Transmigration; Married to My Ex-Fiancé's Uncle-Chapter 389; Lin mansion

The tragedy of Lin Yueling had only just begun. The breakdown in her hospital room had been the first wave of grief crashing over her. But there would be more waves coming, each one potentially more devastating than the last, as the full scope of her losses became undeniable.

And there was no one left to catch her when she finally drowned in them.

— — — — —

Meanwhile, across the city in the transformed Lin mansion, Shuyin walked through bright, sunlit corridors toward the kitchen, the soft hum of household activity surrounding her like a comforting blanket. The atmosphere had changed so completely since morning that it felt like a different house entirely. Light poured through windows that had been opened to afternoon air. Servants moved with purposeful energy rather than fearful efficiency. The oppressive weight that had always hung over this estate had lifted, replaced by something approaching actual life. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

She paused at the kitchen doorway, taking in the scene before her with quiet contentment. Lu Yuze stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, patiently guiding the children through vegetable preparation. Laughter and gentle conversation blended with the rhythmic sounds of chopping and the sizzle of oil in a pan. It was so perfectly domestic, so completely normal, that Shuyin felt her chest tighten with unexpected emotion.

A soft smile spread across her face as she stepped inside. The warmth of the kitchen wrapped around her, and the comforting smell of fresh vegetables being prepared grounded her in the present moment. She settled onto a countertop stool, reaching out to ruffle Chen Xiao’s hair gently.

"You’re learning really fast," she praised, watching his small hands manage the knife with improving confidence. The progress was incremental, but meaningful in ways that went beyond simple cooking skills. Considering the life Chen Xiao had endured over his five years, neglect, probable abuse, the trauma of whatever situation he’d escaped from, this was a remarkable milestone. Holding a knife with proper technique, chopping vegetables without fear or hesitation, these simple tasks represented belonging and care in ways words couldn’t fully capture.

Chen Xiao grinned shyly, his small hands still trembling slightly despite his growing competence. "I’m just trying," he said with determination bright in his eyes. "Yuyan is much better than me."

It was true that compared to Yuyan, he was inexperienced. But his eagerness mattered more than his current skill level. He was learning that care and responsibility came in many forms, that domestic work wasn’t beneath anyone’s dignity, that contributing to family life was something to take pride in rather than avoid.

Shuyin’s eyes softened as she watched him, seeing not just the boy but the effort behind every careful cut, every attentive glance toward Lu Yuze for guidance. He was only five years old, yet his willingness to try spoke of resilience and hope that trauma hadn’t entirely crushed.

Yuyan, at twelve, worked with the quiet confidence of someone who’d been doing these tasks for years. Her hands moved with precision as she prepared vegetables for steaming, a soft hum of concentration on her lips. She’d recovered so completely from her six-month coma that watching her now, no one would ever suspect she’d been at death’s door just weeks ago.

"Are you feeling better, Mama?" Yuyan asked, glancing up with concern that seemed too mature for her age.

"Feeling good," Shuyin replied, stretching slightly and letting out a contented sigh. The warm bath earlier had soothed lingering aches from the morning’s chaos of garden destruction and mud fights. For the first time all day, she felt genuine peace settling over her like a comfortable blanket.

Yuyan reached for a bowl of chilled peach slices she’d prepared earlier and placed them in front of Shuyin. The fruit glistened under afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, droplets of condensation sliding down smooth, pink skin. "Try this! Cold peaches are the best on hot days, so crunchy and sweet!"

Shuyin picked up a slice, biting into it slowly. Juice burst in her mouth, refreshing and crisp, carrying delicate sweetness that reminded her of summer afternoons from a childhood that felt like it belonged to someone else. She let herself savor the simple pleasure, watching her children’s eager expressions, feeling the rhythm of ordinary life that had finally begun to establish itself around her.

For this moment, the outside world with its chaos and pressures and dangers seemed impossibly distant. Here, in this sun-filled kitchen, there existed only warmth and laughter and the tender reality of family. Every chopped vegetable, every careful instruction, every small smile was a reminder that even in a world often cruel, peace could be cultivated and shared.

And as she looked at her children, at her husband patiently guiding them with infinite patience, Shuyin realized these small, ordinary moments held more value than any victory or revenge. Here, they were building something stronger than power or wealth. They were building home.

The peaceful moment was interrupted by hurried footsteps in the corridor. A flustered maid appeared in the doorway, her hands wringing a corner of her apron nervously. "Miss, Young Miss," she called, clearly uncertain which title to use.

Shuyin turned, her contentment shifting to alert attention. "What is it?"

"We are unable to open two rooms at the far end of the west corridor," the maid reported, words tumbling out quickly. "Everything else has been opened and cleaned. The staff you hired has been working all afternoon. But these two rooms, we can’t access them at all."

Shuyin raised an eyebrow, genuine surprise crossing her features. With the regular household staff supplemented by additional workers Ting Fei had hired, the massive estate had been systematically catalogued and cleaned. Nearly a hundred rooms in total, most now functional and organized. Yet two rooms resisted all attempts at access.

"You don’t have keys?" Shuyin asked, standing from her stool and moving toward the maid. "Surely there’s a master key system for the household."

The maid shook her head vigorously. "No, Miss. We’ve tried every key in the household inventory. Nothing works. Those doors won’t open, and they’re solid, too solid to force without damaging the frames."

Shuyin’s mind immediately went to dark possibilities. Locked rooms in a house that had been used for imprisonment and trafficking. Her expression hardened. "Then break the doors down. If no keys exist and the rooms need to be inventoried, use whatever force is necessary."

The maid hesitated, glancing nervously at Lu Yuze and the children before returning her attention to Shuyin. "Miss, the workers won’t act without your direct permission. They’re afraid of damaging property without explicit authorization. You would need to come and give the order personally."

Shuyin exhaled sharply, annoyance mingled with understanding. In a household that had operated under Lin Feng’s authoritarian control, staff had learned to never take initiative for fear of punishment. "Fine. I’ll handle it myself."

She moved with purpose toward the corridor, Lu Yuze falling into step silently behind her. Chen Xiao’s small feet shuffled beside them, attempting to mimic his father’s steady stride. Yuyan followed with curiosity evident in every step, peeking into unlocked rooms they passed.

The west corridor stretched before them, longer than Shuyin remembered from childhood, lined with doors that now represented more mystery than simple domestic spaces. Late afternoon sunlight angled through tall windows, creating patterns on polished floorboards that gleamed from recent cleaning.

As they approached the two locked doors near the corridor’s far end, Shuyin paused, placing her hand against the first door’s solid wood. The lock was old, elaborate, clearly designed to resist casual tampering. A faint draft whispered through the crack at the bottom, carrying scents of dust and long disuse, a room untouched for months, possibly longer.

How could the keys to these rooms simply be missing? The question nagged at her, bringing up memories of the secret chamber where her mother had been imprisoned for fifteen years. Nothing in this house was ever simple or innocent. Locked rooms meant secrets, and secrets in the Lin household usually meant cruelty.

She didn’t need to break the door down. Activating her jade eyes, that gift of her mermaid heritage that allowed her to see and manipulate things ordinary humans couldn’t, Shuyin focused on the lock mechanism. Her magic flowed through the ancient metal, understanding its structure, convincing tumblers to shift and release. The lock clicked softly, surrendering to power it had never been designed to resist.