Jai Mei's Unforeseen Journey to Ancient China

Chapter Forty Seven: Snowed-in Moments

For three days, Jai Yuna remained secluded in her room, untouched by the world outside. The absence of her presence weighed heavily on the house, a silence punctuated by unspoken worries.

Shu Wang broke the stillness, voicing his concern. "Our wife hasn't left her room for three days. She must eat something."

Chun Wei, hesitant, suggested, "Let's give her space. She'll emerge when she's ready."

Liu Feng, aligning with Shu Wang, proposed, "If she doesn't come out by tomorrow, we should check on her. What if she's harmed herself, and we're none the wiser?"

Chun Wei, with a hint of anxiety, added, "She hasn't even cared for Xiao Hei or the pups. That's not like her; she adores them."

Hao Zhang offered a middle ground, "We'll wait until tomorrow. We've been preparing her meals and baths daily; let's continue that. But we need to ensure she's alright."

The consensus was to wait one more day before intervening. If Jai Yuna didn't leave her room by then, they would gently coax her out, ensuring she had food, fresh air, and sunlight.

However, on the fourth day, Jai Yuna emerged. She washed, ate, and cleaned up, moving with a quiet resolve that was hard to ignore. The husbands, busy with their duties, couldn't help but steal glances at her.

Her arm, her weight loss, her sleep-deprived appearance - all stirred a tumult of concern within them.

What could they do? Why did they feel such a deep urge to care? A whirlpool of conflicted emotions churned inside them.

In the backyard, Jai Yuna appeared to meditate, but her expression was far from serene. It shifted from hurt to sadness, then settled into profound anger.

The husbands watched, unease knotting their stomachs. Was she on the brink of reverting to her old ways?

Her sudden request to talk, as she turned towards the house, sounded like a finale. Were they facing a divorce, a punishment, or something else entirely?

When they entered the house, the last thing they expected was her warm embrace and heartfelt confession. They tried to interject, but she was resolute.

Then, in a move that baffled them, she declared the old her to be dead, symbolically laying her past self to rest.

Was this a ruse, a farewell to her former self? What did she truly mean?

The atmosphere in the room was thick with anticipation as they witnessed Jai Yuna's burial ceremony for her old self.

It was a moment suspended in time, leaving them almost out-of-body as they processed the impending transformation.

Jai Yuna's farewell to her past self was a spectacle of raw emotion. Her repulsion for her former actions was real, her confessions of past horrors strikingly honest.

As she declared her freedom and smashed her cup, a surge of lightning and thunder reverberated through the house, a physical manifestation of liberation. It was as if the weather itself was responding to their collective release from suffering, a divine acknowledgment of their pain and newfound relief.

Then came her invitation for them to participate. Initially, their response was hesitant, a uniform echo of "The Old Jai Yuna is dead, the new is here to stay."

But the intensity in her eyes, her encouragement to unburden themselves, ignited a genuine release of pent-up emotions. As if guided by an unseen force, they each let go of their pain, smashing their cups in a cathartic release.

Jai Yuna's next act was one of profound humility. She knelt and bowed - a gesture utterly alien to her past self, who had once viewed others as beneath her.

She bowed deeply, not once but four times, each bow a personal pledge to each husband. She promised to lay before them their dreams, goals, freedom, and proper dowries from an honorable divorce, but only after ensuring they had achieved what they needed in life.

Her final bow was a picture of perfect submission and respect, her forehead to the ground, hands outstretched as if before an emperor.

In this act, she elevated them to a position of supreme honor, her sincerity unmistakable. They could feel the weight of her promises, the depth of her transformation, in that moment of silent, profound respect.

"Wife, please get up," Shu Wang implored, his voice a blend of concern and respect.

Together, all the husbands moved towards her, their emotions a tumultuous sea stirred by the ceremony's gravity.

As they reached out to help her up, the air was thick with unspoken words and raw feelings.

Each husband, touched by the depth of her humility and the sincerity of her actions, found themselves grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

The simple gesture of lifting her from her bow was more than just a physical act. It symbolized their collective journey from the depths of past pain towards a horizon of understanding and mutual respect.

In this moment of helping Jai Yuna rise, they were not just lifting their wife; they were elevating the very essence of their relationship, transformed and renewed.

Jai Yuna's voice resonated with newfound strength and compassion as she addressed her husbands. "The confessions you've shared with both the old and new me, I have taken deeply to heart. I am truly listening. I appreciate the clarity you've provided about your genuine feelings, the hardships you've endured, and the struggles you still face in relation to me. Understand that now, you are truly free."

She paused, her gaze meeting each of theirs in turn. "From this point forward, I want you to shift your focus from me to yourselves. It's time for you to explore your own desires and aspirations. Tell me what you want in life, where you wish to go, and how I can support you in getting there."

A soft, hopeful expression crossed her face. "At the end of this journey, my hope is that we can be friends. But even if that's not possible, I wish for you to find closure. That, in itself, would be enough for me."

Her words hung in the air, a solemn vow of support and a promise of a new beginning, free from the shadows of their shared past.