Minister An, who had been suppressing his anger till now, suddenly burst forth and landed a slap on Aunt Rong and she fell heavily to the ground. Her chest violently heaved. Minister An closed his eyes, not wanting to see An Yan.
Seeing An Yan only brought him memories of seeing his wife with all four limbs very relaxed and languid as she lay dead on her bed.
As his hand struck Aunt Rong, An Jin, An Qing, and even An Shuo appeared frightened. Aunt Rong was helped up by her daughter, An Lian Er, the young girl was weeping.
Feng Yuewei went below to help Aunt Rong and inwardly she was furious, 'This An Yan totally ruined my carefully planned and executed birthday event.' Her hatred for An Yan only deepened.
An Jin and An Qing stood beside Minister An. An Shuo also went down, his eyes looking at all of the guests a.s.sembled here. He was thinking, 'What happened just now was a farce and it is a loss of face for the Prime Minister’s mansion. I wonder what sort of rumors will spread from this.'
"Papa. please don't be angry. Anger is not good for one's body. Jin'er is worried for you."
"Pa, Mother , who is now no longer alive, also loves Papa very much and also loves Aunt Rong."
An Qing and An Jin stood on each side of Minister An and tried to calm him down.
"If you are not happy to see me then you can take your anger out on me. Why did you have to strike Aunt Rong for that? If you do not want to recognize me, then I will just leave this manor."
For An Yan, in this lifetime– nay, at least as of this moment— what she didn't want to see was Aunt Rong being bullied. Her own father also wasn't good to her.
Flames of fury erupted in her heart and she rushed from the crowd to come and stand in front of her Aunt Rong. She faced Prime Minister An, her opens wide as she glared at him.
For a moment, as the scene stayed calm and still, An Yan's voice that dripped with a cold and sullenness reverberated clearly around the room.
Minister An felt the words weighing down upon his shoulders, and was speechless for a long time. An Jin and An Qing, standing on either side of him, trembled in fear.
An Yan waited and waited for her father to give an answer. But, as expected,.he felt disinclined to even reply to her. After he seemingly regained control over his vocal cords, he just stated what he had previously uttered, "Get out of here."
An Yan pursed her lips. She felt as if her world had shattered. There was a loud buzzing in her ears and she looked down at the opulent clothes she wore. She tried to see clearly despite her tears. Her heart quivered and she repeatedly clenched and released her hands.
"Yan'er, return to your quarters. This is all Aunt's fault…"
After Aunt Rong had been helped up, she stood beside An Yan and sighed; her sigh contained her guilt and regret..
"That is nothing. Is Aunt hurt?" An Yan turned her head and with a meaningless smile on her face, she asked her aunt. Within this mansion, she was ignored by one and all.
"Aunt is not hurt. Yan'er should first return to your room. I fear the Master will again…"
Aunt Rong's face was fully apologetic and worried.
An Yan, being clever, quickly agreed. "Then Yan'er will leave first.".
Aunt Rong nodded her head. An Yan immediately turned around and left without any formalities. No one dared to stop her and force her to leave after going through some formal curtsies. But this time, when she left, there was no Zi Yan beside her, holding up an umbrella, just the girl leaving alone.
In this time of snow, she went forth. There was snow everywhere and amidst that she gave off a bleak figure.
Looking at An Yan's fading back, An Xi's eyes became red and she soon started crying. She was about to follow behind An Yan, but then she was dragged back by Aunt Lin. An Xi looked up at her mother, and wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks. She could only helplessly watch on as her big sister left her view.
*
Back in her courtyard, An Yan's body sagged. She clutched at her own collar and supported her limp body against the gate of her courtyard. The snowflakes continued to fall around her.
There was a trace of sorrow in her heart — how could this slim and proud figure dare to hold her head up and stand straight after today?