My brother entrusted his child to me, and I livestreamed raising the baby, making the Empress cry wi

She originally thought that Ye Fan was just a somewhat capable orphan.

Even if Lin Ye later appeared with inhuman methods, Ye Fan would at most be Lin Ye's close friend, this "demon".

But now...

The light from the bracelet almost blinded her!

The revelation of Ye Fan's background made her feel a deep sense of regret.

What kind of family can casually adorn an infant with such "divine" jewelry?

With the support of such a family, what is Da Yan? She could even—

Dominate the world!

but now……

An unprecedented, scalding, viscous sense of regret, mixed with a bone-chilling cold, shot up from the very bottom of my spine and instantly spread throughout my limbs and bones.

At the same time, she also experienced intense abdominal cramps, as if someone had reached into her abdominal cavity, kneading, knotting, and then pulling her intestines inch by inch.

A fine layer of cold sweat instantly beaded on her forehead, and her fingertips dug deeply into her palms, leaving crescent-shaped, whitish marks that slowly bled.

For the first time, she realized that "regret to the point of being in a knot" was not a metaphor, but a real, excruciating pain that made one almost want to curl up in agony.

……

After Lü Hongmei wiped away her tears and left, Lin Ye took several long, narrow wooden boxes carefully wrapped in dark silk from his assistant and stepped forward.

When the lid was gently lifted, even across vast distances of time and space, Shu Jingwei could feel the serene and gentle radiance that flowed out in that instant.

Those are paperweights, pen rests, and seals carved from the finest jadeite and mutton-fat white jade. The jade is pure and flawless, and the carving is exquisite. With just a few strokes, the artistic conception of landscapes and the charm of ancient beasts come to life.

Any one of them could probably be worth more than all the jade treasures in the Great Yan Kingdom's treasury combined.

No, perhaps that's not enough!

……

Lin Ye gently placed the wooden box on the other side of Ye Fan's coffin, next to the blood jade bracelet.

His fingers traced the box, his fingertips trembling slightly, and his voice was somewhat hoarse.

"Old Ye, do you remember? When you were a kid, you were peering longingly at the cheapest piece of jade paperweight in the window of the antique shop at the street corner. You came back and made a fuss with the director for three days, insisting on buying it."

He tried to force a smile, but failed.

"Back then... we often didn't even have enough to eat, so where would we get the money to buy that? The dean could only grind one for you using pebbles from the riverbank, and you treasured it like a precious gem."

Lin Ye paused for a moment, then continued speaking, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.

"Now... brother, I can buy you the finest calligraphy in the world. But what about you? Where are you?"

He sniffed sharply, blinked hard at his reddened eyes, raised his voice, and spoke each word with unwavering resolve.

"Take this with you! You need the best over there too!"

Then Lin Ye turned his head and looked at Xiao Douzi, whose face was red from crying and who was being led by Dean Lü. His gaze softened instantly.

He leaned down and whispered in Ye Fan's ear. His voice wasn't loud enough for the people in the mourning hall to hear clearly, but it could clearly penetrate time and space so that everyone on the other end of the live broadcast could hear it clearly.

"Little Douzi, Old Ye, don't worry. She's my own daughter, Lin Ye's daughter!"

He turned his head, glanced at the void, his eyes sharp as a drawn sword, and slashed fiercely at everyone in the Great Flame Kingdom who were watching the sky.

"Anyone who dares to lay a finger on her will have to ask if my fists will allow it! And those who bullied her or even harmed you, I will make them pay the price!"

Everyone in the Great Flame Kingdom, especially Shu Jingwei and Yao Jingyuan, listened to these resounding and powerful words.

A chill ran through me.

Thinking back to the time Lin Ye visited not long ago, which left them severely injured, they trembled with fear.

But it was quickly suppressed.

Anyway, they're separated by the sky now, so Lin Ye can't do anything to them. There's no need to be paranoid.

……

After Lin Ye finished speaking, he straightened up, closed his eyes briefly to suppress the tears that were about to well up, and stepped back.

Then there are those friends or family members who, due to time constraints, did not have time to prepare Ye Fan's beloved items.

With red eyes, they handed one after another, incredibly thick white envelopes to Dean Lü at the front.

The envelope was stuffed so full it was almost bursting, and the edges were slightly softened by the sweat in my palms.

Shu Jingwei stared intently at the white bags, her eyelids twitching uncontrollably.

That thickness... how could those people who looked ordinary, even somewhat shabby, possibly... how could they possibly produce so much?!

And those family members who had traveled from all over the country, dressed simply, also began to step forward silently.

Their steps were light, carrying the weariness of a long journey and a touch of sadness at the prospect of returning home.

A pretty woman wearing a faded white dress walked out, her eyes red and swollen.

She took out an old picture book with badly worn edges, carefully taped back together with transparent tape, from her cloth bag.

She turned to one of the pages, where a childlike but charming crayon drawing was on it: a crooked sun, two stick figures holding hands, and a small house.

"This is..." Her fingers lightly touched the picture book, her voice choked with emotion.

"It was the first painting he drew when the college first started offering art classes... He said it was our home. I... I secretly hid it. I hid it for many years."

Tears dripped onto the yellowed pages with a "plop," and she hurriedly tried to wipe them away, but the more she wiped, the wetter they became.

A dark-skinned boy with rough hands stepped forward, holding an old harmonica that was polished to a shine but could not hide the marks of time.

He brought the harmonica to his lips, tested the sound, and blew out a few broken, trembling notes.

It was the tune of a lullaby that had become popular among the people after Ye Fan arrived in Da Yan. He put down his harmonica, his voice terribly hoarse.

"When I was little, I was afraid of the dark and I would always cry at night. Brother Ye would play this for me... and I would stop being afraid as soon as he played it. I still remember that tune."

He gripped the harmonica tightly for a moment, then released it, and following the delicate woman's gesture of putting away the picture book, he placed the harmonica inside as well.

……

The last trace of color drained from Shu Jingwei's face.

She looked at the priceless jade bracelet and calligraphy, then at the tattered picture books and harmonica...

She only felt proud of the royal procession she had previously enjoyed, and the rare treasures she had valued.

Here, before Ye Fan's spirit, it appears so empty, so ridiculous, so...cheap.

Moreover, the people here are his family and close friends who will truly grieve for his passing.

The burial goods here include priceless treasures that could buy several countries, as well as items that carry shared memories and are imbued with sincere emotions.

Those so-called "old things" that she never had...

Shu Jingwei slumped onto the dragon throne, her back hitting the cold backrest. The touch that once symbolized supreme authority now only made her feel boundless coldness and emptiness.

She opened her mouth, but found that her throat felt as if it were being tightly choked by that rough silver bracelet, and she couldn't make a sound.

Only those eyes, once filled with arrogance and malice, now reflect the priceless treasures in the sky.

And beside the treasure, there was a light called "loyalty" that she couldn't understand but found incredibly dazzling.

……

On the sky, the burial objects, some priceless and others imbued with invaluable sentiment, were like ice water thrown into boiling oil, instantly igniting the barrage of comments in the lower right corner.