The Woman He Loved, The Child He Lost

The door of Aishlyn room was wide open and all the things inside were emptied. I was looking around. In the yard, I found Linda throwing Aishlyn's photos and some hair into the fire.

"Tristan, can this really help Xena's leukemia get better? Do you think that Aishlyn would blame us to use her body part?" Linda said with sobs, as her face was full of guilt.

Ironically, she still added other pieces of Aishlyn’s hair into the fire.

Tristan looked at her gently, "This is something you have worked so hard. Xena will definitely get better after it is done. Aishlyn’s spirit can be Xena's patron saint. It is a blessing she has cultivated for several lifetimes."

He then continued to explain, "I personally arranged several rituals for her and I will definitely bless her to have a good rebirth."

It turned out that they had arranged to kill Aishlyn all this time. They even didn't let her go in a peace!

I was so angry that my eyes turned black. I rushed into the fire regardless of the burns and picked up my daughter's photos and hair.

"What are you doing?!"

As soon as the question fell, Linda picked up a wooden stick and smashed it hard on my head. My ears were buzzing and warm liquid kept flowing down on my nose.

Linda held the wooden stick and her eyes were fierce. She shouted angrily, "You dare to interrupt my daughter's ritual, I want you to die!" She smashed the stick again to me fiercely.

I groaned in pain and went blurred. It seemed that the third blow was about to come.

Tristan raised his hand to hold the wooden stick. He hugged Linda in his arms and comforted her. The man turned around and yelled at me. "It's just a photograph and some pieces of hair. What were you thinking? We’re only cleaning Aishlyn’s room. You’re really vicious. You don’t want to make Linda happy, do you?

"She has severe postpartum depression! "

Linda had had several nannies to take care of her since she became pregnant. She received both recovery and psychological counselling after giving birth.

At that time, she was leaning on Tristan's arms and looking at me with provocative eyes, without any signs of depression at all.

My face was as gloomy as water. I madly said to him, "Aishlyn is your biological daughter!"

Tristan frowned, "I know. Then what's the problem? Xena is also my daughter. Aishlyn is dead after all, then what's wrong with her protecting her alive sister? Aishlyn is obedient and sensible. If she were still alive, she would definitely agree with me to do this."

My daughter had been well-behaved and sensible since she was young. She had always wanted to be recognized by Tristan, but Tristan stayed in his secret room all year round and never said a word to her.

On the night of her punishment, Tristan took a plane in the next morning to take care of Linda's baby delivery. My daughter could have called for help, but she was afraid of making him unhappy, so she insisted on staying.

When she was dying, Aishlyn’s curled body was frozen. There was a family portrait of three that she had drawn herself in her hand.

My daughter was gone. I didn't ask Tristan to care about her, but I didn't expect him to use my daughter's sincere love to seek benefits for another irrelevant child.

I was screaming out of control and said, “What did it have to do with me that Linda's child had leukemia? Why did you want to use my daughter as a cure?!”

I just couldn’t make sense of it. I promise myself to wish that I will not see them again. I called my secretary and asked him to wait for me in the underground garage.

Before I left, Linda grabbed my hair fiercely. She slapped me hard and then tried to grab Aishlyn’s picture and some leftover hair.

"This is also Tristan's child. Why do you take it away just like that?! The ritual has already begun. Give me back those things!" Linda pressed my head against the wall like a madwoman.

The dull sound penetrated my heart and my eyes went dark. I couldn't hold on any longer and fell to the ground.

I woke up in the hospital again.

There was a stabbing pain on my head, I subconsciously raised my hand and touched the thick gauze.