The day he left, I was awakened by the sound of war drums, and only then did I realize that he was leaving that day.
I haven't seen him for three months; I wonder what he looks like now.
I slipped on my shoes, but my legs wouldn't obey me, and I knelt down with a thud. The maid who was looking out the door saw me, rushed over, and helped me up. After several attempts, I finally stood up. By the time I went outside, the army had already marched out of the capital.
The girl said I cried. I rubbed my cheeks, my fingertips were cold, my touch was cold, but I didn't notice anything.
Seeing the anxiety in her eyes, I could only sigh. He always seemed to find someone who wasn't afraid of me, as if such people were everywhere in the world. But back then, during the sixteen years my father was alive, the only person I found who wasn't afraid of me was Ji Mo Dongli.
But now, he alone is about to lose everything.
He took a few shaky steps after them, but he could never see the departing footsteps. The army's majestic shouts, which should have resounded throughout the capital, were now utterly silent.
"Miss, the city wall is higher, perhaps you can see it then?" the little maid asked tentatively, tilting her head. I looked up slightly. It was still early, but even if I could see, it would probably be blurry and indistinct. Looking at the dark mass of armor, how could I possibly distinguish which one was him?
He shook his head. No, this life—the life he had been so certain of, and even his previous life—was all just like this. I dared not look into the distance; the vast emptiness I saw was even more disheartening. So, it would be better to cry and find some peace somewhere where no one knew me. Back at the Liao residence, we each found our own quiet.
I've never been one to take a step forward; in my life, the thing I'm most used to doing is giving up. It's just that now, some things I once thought I could easily give up are now hard to let go of.
It's ironic that Ji Mo, whom I once despised, is now deeply worried about his shameful past. With the rebellion rising in the south, who knows how much of the old story will be spread again?
But ultimately, such things have nothing to do with me anymore. After he left, we would never cross paths again.
He promised to let me return to the Liao residence.
Someone like me is destined to grow old alone.
With the army gone, the palace fell silent. His palace was so close, the sounds of servants bustling about were so near, yet now, all was quiet. Mao Tui'er, having received his reward, had once broken the rules by coming to see me, lingering for a while, rambling on about whatever came to mind. Now, however, he was on the southern campaign with the army. He had never taken any concubines, and with his departure, the palace suddenly felt terribly empty.
I dared not linger, and after packing a few clothes, I prepared to leave. It seemed he had already given all the instructions; along the way, even the maidservant did not stop me. Once outside the palace gates, a carriage was waiting. Without waiting for my command, he whipped his whip and headed towards the Liao residence.
His men were all capable, and even their departure was so swift, as if I myself had no lingering attachment or hesitation. Did I? I lifted the carriage curtain, and the morning market was already bustling with activity. The peaceful and prosperous world he had created was a picture of harmony and well-being for everyone, but I remained the same.
The gates of the Liao residence drew nearer, their vermilion doors standing as grand as ever, just as they had been in the Liao family's heyday. Back then, there was my father, my mother, Mi Lan, and perhaps even the Prince of Jin—but I wasn't there. Now, all those people were gone, leaving only me. Where were Mi Lan and the Prince of Jin now? Were they doing well? We hadn't even properly met, hadn't exchanged a single word, yet three years later, I inexplicably felt a pang of longing. Was it blood ties, or had I finally reverted to a semblance of "humanity"?
The Prince of Jin is such a high-ranking and powerful man; he should be doing quite well in Fuqi, I suppose. That's all I can think now. I wonder what the situation will be like on Jimo's southern expedition. Mi Lan, after all, is my own sister.
Everything was exactly as it had been back then. Many of the maids from that time had been summoned by him. When they saw me, they smiled slightly, but there was already a hint of bitterness in their eyes. With the outbreak of war, these people were all poor, and their lives must have been difficult.
"Master." A maidservant approached and held up a large, jet-black umbrella.
I looked up, and the edge of the umbrella and the eaves cut the sky into strange shapes, just like my sky three years ago. Only then, no one remembered to hold up such an umbrella for me.
I still remember how I stumbled and staggered back from the ancestral graves. Everyone saw it, but they just followed at a distance. I was like a plague; no one dared to approach me. Everyone looked at me with fear and a sense of schadenfreude, those cold eyes filled with dread and resentment, more frightening than the midday sun. Fortunately, he appeared that day and brought me back into the darkness.
"Master?" The little maid turned her head and came into my view. "Where will Master stay? Everything is ready."
I shook my head. Where should I live? I didn't know. Should I move into the main hall where my father and mother used to live? After all, I'm now practically the head of the Liao family. But how could someone like me disturb the rest of two departed souls? Should I go back to that dungeon-like room? The books and flute he gave me when I was seven are still there. Back then, when the Guifang attacked the capital, my nanny and I left in a hurry, thinking we'd never see these things again. Now, I'm the master of this place again. My nanny forbade me to take these things; escaping was the priority, these idle things would only take up space. I listened and said goodbye to them, as if burying something heavy. Now, how can I go down to that dark and cold place and say, "I'm back"? Perhaps the pages of that book are too to hold anymore. What should I do then?
"Master?" The maid was still waiting for my reply, but I had no strength to speak. I simply took the umbrella from her hand and waved for her to leave. I continued forward, letting this path take me wherever it led. From the moment I was born, my life had been nothing but a dead end. I didn't know how much longer I could go on like this, and I didn't want to burden anyone else.
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