His wedding day was the day she died.
Just as Wen Dai was brazenly plotting to breathe stale air into Xiu Ya's ashes, the woman who had been hiding for a long time finally emerged from the wall.
First to step out was a slender, fair leg, the hem of her plain cheongsam swaying in the breeze. The iron chains on her wrists followed her out, rattling loudly. Xiuya walked into the space unhurriedly, a round fan appearing in her hand from somewhere. The fan half-covered the lower half of her face, and her beautiful eyes, which were visible, gently turned towards Lai Yuan.
The moment their eyes met, Lai Yuan seemed to freeze in place, his pupils dilated, standing there dumbfounded.
Perhaps it was because of their blood ties, but Lai Wenyi subconsciously turned her head to look at Lai Yuan, only to find that her father seemed to have lost his soul. She immediately reached out and grabbed Lai Yuan's arm, shaking him, "Dad, Dad! Dad, what's wrong with you!?"
A soft, husky voice drifted out: "Don't worry, he's fine; it's just that I broke the seal on him." The culprit was holding a round fan, tapping the tip of the fan against his nose intermittently, his eyes turning to Wen Dai with a half-smile.
She suppressed her smile and stared at Wen Dai, who was looking back at her. "Little, pitiful—would you like me to break your seal for you?" She raised her hand, which was shackled with handcuffs, and the "heart" of Wen Dai's soul, which she had forcibly dug out, emerged. The beating organ stimulated her nerves.
“I sensed your heart. You are as interesting as I thought, but... equally pathetic.” Xiuya’s tone gradually lowered. She lowered her eyelids, and with a clench of her outstretched palm, the “heart” vanished again.
Wen Dai turned around to face her, reaching back with one hand to grab the urn on the altar. Holding the urn, she stared directly at Xiuya, "Aren't you going to return it? My piece of soul."
Despite having her ashes held by someone else, Xiuya seemed completely unconcerned. She continued to chuckle behind her fan, her almond-shaped eyes revealing a deep, dark depth. "Are you threatening me? Do you think a dead person would care about their ashes? Even if you dismantle this box in front of me and scatter the ashes inside, it won't affect me in the slightest."
Wen Dai tugged at the red thread on the urn, but the iron lock on Xiuya's wrist didn't budge. She shrank back, "This is... a spell that strengthens over time?"
"This is the work of a disciple of a branch of Tantric Buddhism; it's called 'Extermination Spell.' It binds the target's soul with talismans, accumulating karmic chains over time, which cannot be broken without a specific ritual." Chen Sizhe, standing behind her, took two steps forward. He glanced at the urn held in Wen Dai's hands, his hand rubbing his fingers at his side. "The caster's skill is quite profound; the binding is almost a dead knot."
"A dead knot? Does that mean that as long as it exists, one will be bound forever? I wonder what faction this branch belongs to; it's really extreme." The cruelty was astonishing. Wen Dai's thumb, which was resting on the urn, pulled off the red thread wrapped around it, as if she still harbored a sliver of hope. She glanced at Xiu Ya, who was watching their discussion from not far away, looking perfectly composed.
Caught by the person in question, Xiuya lightly glanced at the urn and casually said, "Stop looking. The young man next to you is right; the string tied to the box has long since become just decoration."
She shook her wrist, and the chain attached to it rattled. Without the fan to conceal it, the faint smile on her face was clear, and the light in her eyes seemed to contain mockery. "The real lock has long been bound to my soul."
Completely baffled, Wen Dai frowned and stared at Xiu Ya, asking, "Since you were able to kill them back then, why didn't you break this formation for yourself?"
The smile that had been floating on Xiuya's skin faded, her mocking eyes opened up with a thoughtful expression, and her hand holding the fan handle froze. She quietly gazed at a certain point in the air, and after a long while, she finally spoke: "Why are there so many whys? In the end, it's nothing more than some obsession in one's own heart."
"Today, your obsession can be put to rest." Chen Sizhe glanced at Lai Yuan, who had recovered his senses. The man was still being held by Lai Wenyi's arm, but his first thought was no longer about his daughter. Instead, he looked up at Xiuya.
Lai Yuan patted Lai Wenyi's hand, and after brushing her hand away, he walked towards Xiuya step by step, each step heavy, until he stopped in front of Xiuya.
Looking at the face that was exactly the same as the one in his memory, and recalling the illusion he had just seen, Laiyuan's tears came out of his body before he could speak. He raised his hand to touch Xiuya's face, but the fact that he had passed through the illusion reminded him once again that they were already from two different worlds, both then and now.
Xiuya looked back at him silently. In their eyes, one was filled with tears, while the other was devoid of light.
He is the reincarnation of him, and she is the reincarnation of her from the previous century.
"Xiuya." Lai Yuan's voice was rough as his throat, which had been closed, was pulled open with difficulty. He stared intently into her eyes, and guilt and heartache, which surged up with memories of his past life, swept over him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Each word trembled as it came out of his lips. His brows were furrowed, and tears blurred the face in his vision.
He murmured, "Back then, I should have forced you to elope; I should have gone directly to your home to propose marriage..."
“There’s no ‘should’,” the woman interrupted him calmly, her chin slightly tilted back as she gazed at him. Her eyelids drooped slightly, and her voice was as soft as a dandelion: “If you elope with me, will we definitely have a good outcome? Can we really elope? If you go directly to their door to propose, will they agree to marry me to you? They want tangible benefits. Can you provide those at that time?”
Even if they could do it all over again, the chances of their ending being better would be extremely slim.
Xiuya lowered her chin, raised her round fan, and rested her chin on the top of the fan. Her eyes, which she avoided even glancing at Lai Yuan, darted away. "Before I died, I heard the news of your marriage. It's such a pity I couldn't attend your wedding. When I first married Wang Kun, I couldn't help but think that I had to endure it, to wait until you got married—you definitely would get married, your family insisted that you get married; I only thought about meeting your bride, and even further into the future, I wanted to see your children. Was that too greedy? Perhaps even Heaven thought I was too greedy, so I have no future."
His wedding day was the day she died.
Those fragments of memory flooded Lai Yuan's mind once more, and he was transported back a hundred years in a daze.
The suit he wore constricted his body, his arm linked with that of his bride in her wedding dress. Neither of them smiled; the smiles belonged to the wedding guests and their parents. Every step toward the priest was arduous, like heading to his execution. As he walked that path, he kept fantasizing that only if the person beside him was Xiuya could he say "I do" to the priest.
Three months before the wedding was set, his mother, in front of him, tore a white silk ribbon and threw it onto the roof beam. The woman, tears streaming down her face, stood on a high stool, clutching the white silk. She turned and glared at him with eyes full of disappointment and sorrow, crying out mournfully, "I've given birth to a wicked son! I've given birth to a wicked son! For a woman who is already married to another man, you actually want to remain unmarried for life, causing our Li family to die out! I have no face to face the ancestors of the Li family, I have no face to live any longer!"
This farce would be staged every two days. He was exhausted, but he still knelt down in front of the high stool and kowtowed, wanting to reiterate his refusal to accept the arranged marriage. However, before he could speak, the servants brought news that his grandmother was about to die.
As if struck by lightning, he scrambled to his feet and stumbled to his grandmother's bedroom. Glancing at his grandmother lying on the bed, breathing slowly and heavily, he shuffled closer.
His father's slap snapped him out of his daze. "You beast! Look at your grandmother! How could you let her die without ever seeing her grandson get married? A grown man like you is going to let the family bloodline end here for a woman! Do you have any conscience?!" The sound of the slap made Li Yuan's head spin.
With his face burning with pain, he lay prone on the bed, tightly holding his grandmother's hand, and pressed his ear close to hers to hear her weak voice: "Find a good girl...get married, have a child, keep her company, that's good. Be happy. Xiuya is a good girl."
Since falling ill, his grandmother's memory has been deteriorating. In the past, he often told his grandmother about his relationship with Xiuya, and his parents' willingness to let him marry Xiuya was also due to his grandmother's encouragement; now, Xiuya has married someone else, but his grandmother's memory remains stuck in the past.
Tears fell one by one onto the sheets. He held his grandmother's withered hand, his fingertips tracing her dry, flabby skin. He choked back tears as he promised, "Okay, grandson will get married and have a child to keep Grandma company. Grandma will be happy. Grandma will wait for your great-grandson." The heart that had sworn to remain faithful was shattered by his own hands.
His wife was arranged by his parents. He went on several dates with the young lady according to his elders' expectations. During their conversations, he learned that the young lady also had someone she loved, but that person had already died in the chaos of the time.
That soft female voice seemed to drift into the scene of memory as background noise: "In this world, how many people can truly control their own destiny?"
They got married, and the day after their wedding, he learned of Xiuya's death—it was reported in the newspapers. The Wang family's explanation was that Xiuya was promiscuous and died of syphilis. Everyone condemned her for disgracing the family, calling her a slut, and deserving of no regrets.
He only knew that his world was in ruins, and that Xiuya was never that kind of person; he knew there were other secrets behind her death, but he was powerless to help her.
How could someone who gives away all their remaining money during wartime be evil? The most outrageous thing he did for her was hold her hand. He knew there were hidden reasons behind her death, but he was powerless to intervene.
His close friend patted him on the shoulder, intending to comfort him, saying, "It's a good thing you didn't end up with her, otherwise you would have been wearing a green hat so many times."
He lost control and flung his friend's hand away, yelling at the top of his lungs in the restaurant, "She's not that kind of person! The rumors are all nonsense! She was forced!" Everyone else thought he'd gone mad, even his friend looked at him with pity; they thought he couldn't accept the truth. He knew there were other reasons behind her death, but he was powerless to help.
He was powerless to clear her name.
As everyone expected, he and his wife had a child the following year.
The child's gender was as everyone had hoped—a boy. He and his wife were relieved that they didn't have to have any more children, and didn't have to force themselves to be intimate. The great-grandson was brought to his bedridden grandmother, and the old woman, having achieved her wish, closed her eyes and passed away on the spot. He knew that he had nothing left, and from then on, he no longer belonged to himself.
Not knowing where Xiuya's grave was, he stood under the moonlight in the darkness, looking up at the desolate night sky, and murmured, "I will come to find you, just wait a little longer... I will come to see you."
He died for love, which was an easy death, but his wife would certainly not have a good ending. At least the children could live a not-too-bad life because of his status, but if his wife became a widow, she would definitely be harassed by her relatives from the collateral branches. If he died, his mother would probably cry, make a scene, and even threaten to hang herself, saying that his wife was a jinx—his mother was capable of doing such a thing.
So he can't die, he can't die yet.
Their respectful relationship earned them praise from others. As his wife opened the nuts for him, she smiled and said, "Everyone says I married a good husband. He doesn't go out to indulge in debauchery or take concubines. He devotes himself to his work." That slight smile disappeared after she finished speaking, turning into a sigh.
The room was silent. It was the wife who spoke again, stroking the shell of the nut in her hand. "You are indeed a good person. If you could stay with your lover forever... never mind. Sometimes I think, if my lover hadn't died, would we be better off? I've thought about it, and it's hard. Maybe he would have done what most men do, things that cause pain to the women in the family. Maybe we wouldn't be as wealthy, and life would be much harder. But I still want to be with him."
He held the book, unmoving, thinking to himself, he was the same—but it was impossible. The entire Li family needed him to support them; his ailing grandmother—he couldn't let her pass away with regrets. Too many burdens had brought them to where they were today.
His son grew up day by day, and under his and his wife's guidance, he had become quite successful; his achievements were featured in the newspapers. He thought it was time for him to leave.
My father passed away last year, and my mother has also tempered her temper due to old age.
He left a suicide note and committed suicide in the same way his mother had initially threatened him to marry—a white silk ribbon was thrown from the rafters, and he hung himself from it.
His wife told their son about his affair with Xiuya. The suicide note he left behind was only a few lines long. First, he told his son not to forget his roots. Second, he told his son to take good care of his wife. Third, he leniently wished his son freedom and encouraged him to enjoy life to the fullest. Fourth, it concerned himself.
[…I burned her to ashes and scattered them in the Liu River. I made her wait for so many years; I don't know where she is in the world. I have to go find her.]
He didn't know where her soul had gone. Since the Wang family hadn't erected a grave for her back then, he guessed she hadn't been buried, so he simply decided not to "bury" her himself either. The flowing water would lead him to her, no matter where she was.
Fortunately, the son fulfilled his last wish, even though he was branded as unfilial—burning his father to ashes and scattering his ashes into the river.
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