Hibiscus flowers fall into the sea of ​​people

After three days and three nights of agony, Melissa finally gave birth to a baby boy. Exhausted and utterly spent, she still longed to hear her husband’s praise. She’d shake her head and tell him it hadn’t hurt. But what met her was Tyler’s icy voice. Outside the birthing chamber, he cast a disdainful glance at the infant and ordered his subordinate without hesitation, “Get rid of it. What use is a simpleton’s child? I will not have a fool for a son and heir.” The man hesitated. “Sir, this is your firstborn. The manor needs an heir…” Tyler waved a hand, cutting him off. “Years ago, she became this imbecile to save me. I will honor my pledge to keep her for a lifetime—but my children? She has no right to bear them.” “The heir to this manor must come from an intelligent woman like Barbara. Anything less would only tarnish our family’s name.” Melissa froze. She shook her head violently, but the dam broke, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She hadn’t been born a fool. Her brother once told her she’d been a celebrated beauty and wit in the capital. It was only three years ago, saving her then-fiancé Tyler, that she’d struck her head. When she woke, her mind was that of a child. She’d feared he would abandon her because of it. But he hadn’t. He married her with great fanfare, a story that once charmed the capital. She’d asked him, “Does this embarrass you?” He said no—and she, in her innocence, believed him. She didn’t understand why he’d changed. The man who once loved her so deeply now looked at her with contempt, even rejecting the child she’d borne him. She tried to rise, to stop them from harming her baby, but the maidservants held her down. “I’m not a fool! I’m not! Let me save my child!” “Madam, my lord said you must rest.” Weak from the ordeal, how could she fight them? Darkness swamped her vision, and she fainted. When she woke again, Tyler was stroking her hair gently, his face alight with pleasure. “Barbara has come. She wishes to see you.” The mere arrival of his distant cousin Barbara could make him smile like that. Even in her diminished state, that smile felt like a blade to Melissa’s eyes. She seized his hand. “The baby… where is my child?” Then Barbara entered, cradling a small dog. Her voice was soft, coaxing. “Sister, look. Here is your child.” Melissa stared, bewildered. She was simple, but she knew she’d given birth to a human, not a puppy. “No… no… That’s not my child!” She clutched at Tyler, desperate for him to set things right. His expression stiffened, but he nodded. “Melissa, this is your child.” Hope shattered. She looked from Tyler to the puppy in Barbara’s arms. So they thought her a fool they could deceive at will. She began to thrash, frantic to find her real child. Tyler’s patience snapped. “Melissa, if you keep this up, I’ll have you confined. Until you learn to behave.” Despair tore a sob from her. He wanted to lock her away again. Every time she vexed him, he’d shut her in until she yielded, contrite and compliant. But not this time. Her struggles only grew wilder. Utterly exasperated, Tyler stood and turned to leave with a dismissive wave. “If she refuses to be obedient,” he told the servants, “do not bring her any food.” The moment he left, Barbara dropped her act. “You want to know where your child is, sister? I’ll tell you.” “I mentioned the ginkgo tree in the back garden looked a bit sickly. Brother Tyler ordered it fertilized. They say nothing feeds a tree like fresh blood and bone.” Melissa’s pupils contracted. She understood. They had buried her child beneath that tree. She refused to believe Tyler would do this to her. That night, when all were asleep, she slipped out to the ginkgo tree. She dug and dug, her fingernails splitting, until her hands struck a small, cold form in the earth. Her child. Tyler had truly buried him here. Frantically, she wiped the dirt from the tiny body and pressed her ear to its cold cheek. She remembered the strong, healthy cry at birth. Now, the baby lay motionless, silent. “Please cry. Just once, for your mother. Please?” No response ever came. Desolation finally claimed her. “Aaaah—!” Her wails brought the household running. Tyler took in her disheveled, dirt-streaked state, and his lip curled in disgust. This was no lady of his manor. His frown deepened. Seeing him, Melissa grasped at a final straw of hope. “Husband, I beg you, save our child. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t cry. Please save him. I’ll be good, I promise, just save him…” Tyler crouched down, his tone deceptively gentle. “Be good, Melissa. The child is dead. You shouldn’t have brought him out here in the middle of the night. It disturbs his rest.” She shook her head, voice choked. “No. I didn’t bring him. She said… you buried him here. To feed the tree.” Her finger pointed accusingly at Barbara. Barbara wore an expression of pure innocence. “Sister, what are you saying? How could I say such a thing? I prepared a fine coffin for