"I'm afraid Yan'er still misses the young master," the mother said with a forced smile. "Now that he's a general..."
His gaze fell on me, but I dared not look up, fearing I would see the sunlight streaming through the courtyard behind him.
He seemed to laugh softly, "Miss Liao has never spoken a word to Ji Mo. I'm afraid she doesn't care about me. Rather, she already has someone else in her heart and doesn't want to be with a rough man like me."
"You already have someone's husband?" How could he say such a thing to me? Even if it was just a childish joke, these careless words sounded sharp and grating. I only glared at him slightly before quickly lowering my head again.
"The child is just a little shy," the mother tried desperately to explain.
I glanced back with slight annoyance—shy? That's understandable, after all, I'm the kind of person who can't even appreciate the nuances of sunlight.
"If that's the case, then it would be an honor for Jimo." He casually rolled up his sleeve. "I have important military matters to attend to, so I must take my leave now. The offerings for General Liao will be sent over by the servants of the mansion."
On his mother's face, a mixture of worry and joy was hard to discern: "National affairs are of utmost importance; we dare not keep the general any longer..."
He turned and left, and my mother didn't urge me to follow—his horse was too fast, and he disappeared in an instant. The gate of the Liao mansion was slowly closed, until even the last crack was no longer visible. My mother looked at my father in the coffin, sighed deeply, and said, "You should go with him."
Should I follow his lead? Ji Mo Dongli, or my father?
Perhaps she only wanted to uphold her father's dying wish, but didn't want to see me again, so she tried every means to push me away. However, using me to marry someone from a poor family was not her original intention.
Even though my father was a military man and a savior, he was criticized throughout his life for being less skilled in martial arts than in literature. The world revered scholars, completely disregarding the fact that at this critical juncture, what was needed was a general who could both attack and defend. Ji Mo seemed too young; how could he shoulder such a great responsibility?
The mother suddenly sighed deeply and said helplessly, "I have to go to the Prince of Jin's residence myself."
The sacrificial ceremony was about to begin, and my sister and the Prince of Jin were both required to attend. However, everything that had been going smoothly was shattered by my appearance.
Originally, I was supposed to be locked up for life, even if it was my father's so-called dying wish.
I'm tired.
I watched my mother's frail figure, my heart numb, utterly exhausted. One last look at the sandalwood coffin, I bowed my head gently. After all, she was the one who gave me life.
Holding an umbrella and sheltering under the eaves, I carefully returned to my cage—the place where I truly belonged. Sunlight is such a luxury; perhaps I committed some sin in my past life, owing someone a debt that I must repay in this one. I understand this fate, yet I cannot fathom its depths.
Perhaps I really am a monster, only able to attract endless trouble and disaster.
I huddled in the darkest corner, gazing at the stack of books on the small table beside my bed. Even then, the books were already tattered at the edges; now, nine years later, they were even more worn and tattered. But they were, after all, my only possessions. I had even torn off three or four pieces of cloth to make what was most common for a girl, but those little "playmates" only stayed with me for half a day before the maid, who came to clean the house for the day, threw them away with a look of disgust. I recognized that expression; they always had the same expression when they saw me.
In the end, it's nothing special.
I looked at the four walls without a single window, at the door I had locked tightly, and at the candlestick on the table that had never been lit in sixteen years, and then I lay down with my knees drawn up to my chest.
In Jimo Dongli, I suddenly thought of him. Why did he come to propose marriage? Was it only because of my father's dying wish? What kind of elegant young master would marry someone like that just because of someone else's words? Fortunately, my father has passed away, and I still have three years of mourning. After three years, no matter what kind of man he is, he will only remember me as a terrifying demon. Besides, he is a man who has to go to the battlefield to fight the enemy. With the war dragging on, how could he have the leisure to look at me?
Her long hair was tangled beneath her. I gently stroked it, but I couldn't untangle the knotted strand.
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