No one knew who the woman in black, with her hair tied high and a ribbon in her hand was, and no one knew the connection between her and the prophecy of doom. But she could wait, until the day someone could give her an answer.
She firmly believed that as long as she stayed in that place, she would be able to wait until the day when that woman appeared.
She came to Prince Shuo's mansion alone, buried the family secret deep in her heart, and hoped that one day, the person in the prophecy would show up early, so that she could escape from this endless curse and take off the empty responsibility of saving the world.
Perhaps it was heaven's pity on her circumstances, or perhaps it was her destiny that destined her to be blessed. Ah Zhu never imagined that her time at the general's mansion would be the happiest of her life. Her brothers treated her like a sister, and the old general and his wife treated her like their own daughter. They cared for her like an ordinary woman, teaching her piano, calligraphy, painting, horseback riding, and archery. They traveled thousands of miles to find her a suitable match, eventually sewing her an embroidered wedding dress and sending her to a sedan chair destined for a bright future.
Gradually, everything from her childhood faded away like the receding tide. Bathed in the sunlight, she often forgot her tumultuous past and her family feuds, dreaming she had been born in this warm and peaceful courtyard, with loving parents, a kind brother, and endless years to live. But when moonlight streamed through the window, she would recall the clansmen's cries in the darkness, her aunt's final, tearful words, and the shabby existence she had earned by hiding her identity.
Her heart was torn apart for a long time, and she could only convince herself over and over again: Perhaps the days with the general's family were her real life, and those lingering dark memories were just a long-standing nightmare.
But she hadn't anticipated that the Shen family wouldn't let her go, nor would they have forgotten their prophecy. The nightmare of the past returned, until Yu An dragged her once again into a dream from which it was difficult to awaken. In her dream, she stood alone in an empty courtyard, a vision of a pale, thin girl entering the yard and timidly offering her a pear. She watched the girl grow older, her face becoming familiar. But she couldn't tell whether this familiarity stemmed from the years they'd spent together, or from a previous encounter in another, distant dream.
Now, when she woke up from the dream, the white mist that had enveloped her eyes finally dissipated. She finally understood: the woman in the prophecy had already appeared and had even lived with her under the same roof for so many years.
The tragedy, lamentation, and absurdity of fate lies in the fact that one cannot see the whole picture while living in it. When sick, one does not know wealth and honor; when happy, one does not know worry and sorrow.
When she left home, she was only a girl of sixteen or seventeen. She was worried about her aunt's instructions and thought she would be back in a month or so. Even her goodbyes were so hasty.
Now she has finally returned here again, but she is already a weathered woman over forty years old. She has suffered torture in a chaotic hell that ordinary people can't imagine, and her heart is filled with pain and hatred.
Fu Yin Fu Yin, groaning repeatedly.
This was how Heaven had written her fate, forcing her to suffer the pain of separation from her own flesh and blood twice. She had thought she had escaped her fate, but in the end, she had only stepped on it without realizing it.
A light was coming from a stone house not far away, and the alert swordsman and sword master woke up as if they had noticed something.
Her former brother's swollen and haggard face was just ten steps away from her. There was joy, confusion, and a kind of cowardice in his eyes that disgusted her.
"Azhu..."
He called out her old name, but could not utter anything else. He really had no right to speak, not even to call out her name.
Xiao Dai looked at Luo He and slowly raised her left hand.
******************
The tiny flame flickered, and the last oil lamp in the ancient pagoda went out. A long, thin line of green smoke hung in the air, twisting and tangling in the misty air.
Su Wei put away the booklet and rubbed his eyebrows gently.
Xiao Nanhui leaned over and looked at the other person eagerly.
"Well? Did you figure it out?"
The man opened his eyes and met her gaze with an ambiguous expression.
"Am I no more worthless than an old booklet or a torn ribbon in your eyes?"
She was stunned, with a look of panic and embarrassment on her face that she had no time to dodge, which was a pleasure to watch.
"I, that's not what I meant. I've seen you study for a long time, and it's almost dawn..."
He seemed not to want her to continue speaking, and suddenly raised his left hand to brush the strands of hair at her temples.
As expected, she stopped talking, but the hand did not stop. After gathering the loose hair behind her ear, it moved to her face and gently stroked it.
There was no expression on his face, but his hands were extremely affectionate. The hand that had just been resting on the stone platform was a little cold, but it seemed to be on fire the moment it brushed against her cheek.
"What's wrong? Suddenly..."
Horizontal and vertical strokes don't make a song; gentle plucking and twisting are the most expressive. It turns out the softer and more careful the movements, the more captivating they are. Faced with such intimacy, she seemed even more uneasy.
This is her shortcoming. She is always afraid of and feels uneasy about anything that is too intimate and beautiful.
He withdrew his hand, but did not withdraw his gaze. His expression was calm and his voice was gentle.
"Nothing. Just wanted to check on you."
Although it was already daylight outside, it was still dark inside the tower due to the continuous rain. Xiao Nanhui didn't even know whether the person in front of her could see her face clearly.
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