Liao Yan, as you say, I am indeed a nightmare for my family.
Sixteen years ago, when the midwife took me out of my mother's womb, she shouted "demon" and ran away.
The first thing my father did when he saw me was to draw the sword from his waist. If my mother hadn't risked her life to stop me, I probably would have been destined to die by my family's sword right after I was born.
I know that I was born to be destined.
My pale skin, my long, pale hair, my bewitching blue eyes, and my eyes that cannot withstand the light—all of this destined me to be considered an outsider from birth.
Back then, the news of the birth of a "demon child" at General Liao's mansion was all over the place. My father only told the public that the child had died. The following year, my mother gave birth to my younger sister. Unfortunately, at that time, I was locked in my so-called boudoir and could not take a single step out.
My room, I've heard, was originally the dungeon of the Liao family mansion. My father was a general his whole life, and there were always disloyal people in the family who would be imprisoned here. Everyone says it's the dwelling place of vengeful spirits. But I can be considered a vengeful spirit myself, so I've never been afraid. On the contrary, everyone in the mansion is afraid of me.
The maid who brought me food every day trembled with fear, and my father, afraid of being discovered, hadn't seen me for sixteen years. My mother, burdened by what happened back then, fell ill and hasn't visited me in recent years either. My younger sister, a year younger than me, turned fifteen last year and married into a noble family in grand style. She knew nothing of my existence. Only one person wasn't afraid of me: a boy, not much older than me, who brought me food, clothing, and necessities for a year when I was seven. He taught me to read and to play the flute. The stack of books and the flute he left by my bedside were the only things that sustained me for sixteen years. However, I've never seen that boy again.
Today marks the first time I've emerged from the ground after being buried underground for sixteen years.
Fuqi was constantly at war with neighboring countries. When my father led his troops to the battlefield, all he brought back was an obituary. They said that today, my father's coffin would be transported back.
I don't remember what he looked like, and I don't feel sad.
In the eyes of the world, I have been dead for sixteen years, and no one has ever grieved for me.
As soon as the door opened, someone held up an umbrella to shield the sun.
I looked up, my vision always blurred with light and shadow, and vaguely saw a woman, draped in white, her appearance desolate. I didn't recognize her, but when she saw me, she wept.
“Yan’er…” Someone came to help her up, but she just kept crying, “Mother has wronged you, giving you such a body…”
Yes, it was my mother. For sixteen years, we lived in the same mansion, yet I had never seen her once.
I didn't say anything, but she reached out her hand, her cold hands grasping my sleeve—I didn't want her to touch my hands; for sixteen years, no one had touched me.
On the day my younger sister came of age and got married, the sound of ceremonial music made my room tremble. However, no one ever thought that I, too, was once fifteen years old, and that I also had biological parents.
"Yan'er..." she looked at me through teary eyes, "Your father is gone, what will become of the Liao family..."
I stared at her, unsure of what the Liao family meant to me, or what my father meant to me. Yet, looking at this aged woman before me, it seemed she had placed all her hopes on me. It was strange; didn't I have such an outstanding and enviable younger sister who had married into a noble family?
"Go quickly and bring me the mourning clothes." She finally looked at the servants around her, the servants who would hide far away when they saw me.
A white robe was handed to me and suddenly draped over my shoulders. She remained silent for a moment, then patted my shoulder, straightened her collar, and said, "Mi Lan will be back soon. You two sisters should recognize each other properly."
My younger sister's original name was Mi Lan.
“The Prince of Jin will also come. The army says that your father wrote a will before he went into battle, saying that he wanted to give you…” She cried and couldn’t finish her sentence, but I could guess what she was going to say next.
To make my existence public.
Yeah?
Could a daughter born with such extraordinary beauty be easily handed over after sixteen years of painstaking concealment? The Liao family, though humble, is still a prominent and wealthy family. How could they tolerate someone like me?
"It's your mother's fault, Yan'er. Don't blame your father, and don't mistreat your sister. Mi Lan is a good child..."
What does Mi Lan's character have to do with me?
“Your father still cares about you and has already entrusted you with many things…” She stopped abruptly halfway through her sentence, her hand trembling slightly as it hovered in the air before finally falling. “Alright, alright, come with me. You should at least see your father.”
I didn't respond, but she took my hand and led me step by step into the front hall.
I heard that when my father was alive, he was a highly respected general, and the last general to save the world before Fuchi's death.
However, he was already dead. That fine sandalwood coffin was a gift from the emperor. All his father had gained with his life was this coffin.
I quietly looked at the person lying inside. Although his temples were gray, he still had a resolute air about him, like a soldier.
My mother raised her hand to gather my hair, which had been hanging down in front of and behind me for sixteen years and was now reaching the ground. Her trembling hands could not manage to gather it up.
This head of pure white hair, without a single blemish, made him appear even older than the person in the coffin.
She finally handed the comb to the servant, and seeing the servant's timid and hesitant manner, I felt indifferent.
A servant outside announced that the Prince of Jin and his wife had arrived. The servant behind him suddenly let go, and the hair that had been coiled at the back of his head flew down, stirring up a few specks of dust.
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