Chapter 973: Penelope Bennet, what do you think?

Zoren’s wife, Penelope Bennet, was someone he had never met while she was alive. How could his grandmother have met her? Even so, given Old Mrs. Pierson’s condition, his fabricated marriage was the only thing that brought her happiness, no matter how many times he repeated the story.

"Tell me more about her!" Old Mrs. Pierson urged. "Or are you tired of repeating yourself?"

"No." Zoren moved his chair closer to the bed, holding her wrinkled hand between his own. "Penelope... she’s brilliant. She has several Ph.D.s and was part of a research team working on miracle drugs."

"Oh!" Old Mrs. Pierson’s eyes lit up. "Renren, she’s a genius! I knew it! My granddaughter-in-law is amazing! What else?"

"She’s from a good family, and despite her tight schedule, she always made time for her loved ones."

"What a filial daughter," she said with pride.

"She is."

"Not only is she beautiful and smart, but she’s also kind."

"How I wish she weren’t... perhaps she’d be a lot happier," he murmured, though his grandmother’s weak hearing didn’t catch it. "She’s also fierce."

He had learned this while keeping tabs on her in prison. She often started fights, landing herself in isolation. Yet, her spirit never seemed to break, not surprising as her soul had long been shattered outside those prison walls. Her defiance had always clashed with his efforts to shield her from such harsh treatment. As a death row inmate, she was deemed a threat and denied the freedoms other prisoners had. Through his connections and at great expense, Zoren ensured she wasn’t entirely isolated. It was his way of showing her there was still hope—that even within those walls, she could imagine freedom.

"Hehehe." Old Mrs. Pierson giggled, picturing such a remarkable woman with her grandson. "You’ve hit the jackpot, Renren!" But as her gaze returned to him, she caught the look on his face. Concerned, she held his hand tightly.

"Renren, what’s wrong, my child?" she asked gently. "You can always tell Grandma your troubles. I’ll always listen, like always."

A faint smile crossed his lips. "I know you would."

"And the best part is," she added with a chuckle, "I’ll forget whatever it is afterward!"

Her joke lightened the moment, but Zoren’s heart remained heavy. He hesitated before finally speaking, his voice low. "Is there anything I’m truly good at, Grandma? Because everything I really want to do—everyone I want to save—always seems to slip through my fingers."

The bitterness in his words reflected his failures: his inability to save Penelope Bennet and his grandmother. Despite his wealth and influence, nothing seemed to change. Nothing seemed to help.

"I failed my wife..." he whispered, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "... and I’ll fail you too."

"Renren, how can you say that?" Old Mrs. Pierson sighed, patting his hand to draw his gaze to hers. "You didn’t fail me, and you certainly didn’t fail your wife."

"She’s dead," he wanted to say, but couldn’t.

"Renren, I’m not your wife’s representative," she continued softly. "But taking care of me and protecting me doesn’t mean you’ve failed. Even if my health continues to decline, that’s not your fault. It never was."

She exhaled a shallow breath, her voice tender but firm. "I’ve lived a life with equal parts of sorrow and joy. This is the cycle of life. We live, and then we reach the end. If you’re lucky, you get to live again. It’s just how it is, and there’s nothing we can do to change it."

"But I don’t want you to leave me," he confessed, his voice trembling.

She chuckled, squeezing his hand. "I’ll never leave you, my dear. I’ll always be here."

Her frail hand moved to touch his chest. "I’ll always be here, even if my physical body isn’t. I’m not saying it will happen today, but you must accept the inevitable." She smiled, her eyes warm with love. "I’m not afraid, so why are you?"

"You have a beautiful, smart, and kind wife, Renren. She’s not a replacement but someone to walk beside you and build a good life with. When I’m gone, she’ll console you, just as you must console her."

She tapped his hand, her voice gentle. "Everything’s going to be fine, Renren. One day, you’ll understand. But for now, know this: I’m grateful. You’ve made this difficult life bearable, and I’m proud to have raised such a loving grandson. You’ve always been a blessed child. If you wish for it, I’m sure it’ll come true."

Zoren forced a smile, his chest tightening with emotion. "Grandma..."

"Yes, my child?"

"Do you have any regrets?"

Her smile softened. "I do. I have one."

"What are they?"

She didn’t answer immediately, her gaze drifting to the family portrait on the wall—a picture of just the two of them, grandmother and grandson.

Finally, she broke the silence. "Renren... your wife is smart, beautiful, and kind. But beyond those things, why did you marry her?"

The question caught him off guard. He hesitated, prompting her to sigh lightly.

"Do you love her?" she asked.

He thought for a moment. He married Penelope because no one else would claim her body or give her a proper funeral. He had been involved in her case and, after failing to save her, he wanted to at least grant her dignity in death.

It wasn’t love.

"I think..." he began hesitantly, meeting her eyes. "... I could have loved her. If I had known her, if we’d had a chance... maybe we wouldn’t have been so sad. Maybe I could save her... and she could save me."

Old Mrs. Pierson tilted her head. "Renren, you’re here?"

"I am, Grandma."

"You brat! How come you only visit me when it’s convenient for you?!"

And so, the cycle repeated. Zoren smiled bitterly as he patiently told her once again about his marriage, about his wife, and about the life she had imagined for him.

Yet as time passed, Zoren found himself reflecting more on Penelope. He wondered what she had truly been like. While busy wondering about it, he didn’t realize he was still walking on the same path — a path of destruction. Though, in all honesty, Zoren was just too tired... too tired to even walk.

In his final moments, lying near Penelope’s grave, he traced the engraved letters of her name with his bloodied fingers.

"Penelope Bennet..." he whispered, his voice weak. "... what... do you think?"

If they met... would everything change? Would they be as sad as they were? And would they still search for something else other than destruction? Because at this point, death sounded so sweet and tempting. The mere thought of it ironically brought this unsettling peace in his heart.

If they met, would they eventually like each other?

Or would they just end up as two lonely strangers drifting in this world?

Perhaps he would never get his answers unless he lived in a world completely different from the one he had.

As Zoren slowly succumbed to the darkness he was so familiar with, he whispered. "If I get to live again... I’ll find you and get my answer."

*

*

*

And just as he wished, he found himself staring at a baby mobile that was hanging and spinning over the crib. When he reached out, all he saw was a child’s hand over him.

"..."