Chapter 98: Extra 1: Jin Xi Chang Regret (Xiao Jin's Perspective)
The winter night wind, swirling with snowflakes, pounded the thatched roof of the hut, as if it were about to tear the dilapidated structure apart. I clutched the plain wooden box in my arms, my fingertips numb from the cold, yet I dared not loosen my grip. Inside was Zhi'er, the one I'd searched for for a year, searching through mountains and rivers for.
The plain dress on the box was her favorite back then. I'd washed it over and over, rubbing the edges until they were fuzzy, but it still held her delicate sweet-scented osmanthus fragrance. I pressed my face against the box, the cool wood rubbing against my cheekbones, yet it only managed to slightly dull the piercing pain in my chest—a pain that hadn't stopped since the day Zhi'er jumped from the palace wall, like countless needles piercing my heart day and night.
"Zhi'er, I went to town today." I whispered to the box, my voice hoarse as if it had been rubbed by sandpaper, and the familiar fishy sweetness rose in my throat again. "That osmanthus cake shop is still open. I asked the store owner to leave you a piece of freshly made cake. It's not moldy. Try it..."
I pulled the oil-paper-wrapped sweet-scented osmanthus cake from my pocket and carefully placed it next to the box. It was still a little warm; the shopkeeper had given it to me out of pity. But I knew Zhi'er wouldn't eat it. She would never again, like she did back then, come to me with a candied haws, smiling and saying, "Your Highness, try some!" She would never again spread a blanket under the osmanthus tree and invite me to read with her. She would never again stay by my bedside, brewing a pot of warm ginger soup when I was sick.
These images, like knives, cut through my mind again and again. Especially the night the abortion pills were administered—I still remember her leaning against the wall, her face pale, blood dripping down her skirt. She looked at me, eyes filled with despair, and asked, "Is this child such an eyesore?" What did I say? I said, "You're not worthy of bearing my child."
"Puff!" I suddenly vomited a mouthful of blood, which splattered onto the snow beside the box, staining a small area red. I hurriedly wiped it with my sleeve, but the more I wiped, the dirtier it became. Tears mixed with blood dripped onto my plain clothes, leaving a dark red mark.
"I'm sorry... Zhi'er, I'm sorry..." I choked with sobs, my fingers trembling as I touched the lines on the box. "I was blind at the time! I was deceived by Shen Qingyue! I shouldn't have believed her words, I shouldn't have been so cruel to you... You hit me, scold me, cut me into pieces, I accept it! But don't hide in the box, don't ignore me, okay?"
I know what I'm saying is nonsense. Zhi'er won't respond to me. She doesn't even want to leave me with hatred anymore. She carved "Xiao Jin, Sui Yue Chen Xin, you and I owe each other nothing" into the broken log—those twelve words, crueler than any torture, crushed my last shred of atonement.
I remembered the day I found her bones. In the mass grave at the foot of the cliff, the wind carried the stench of bones. I frantically dug at the dirt, my nails scratching, blood seeping into the soil, but I felt no pain. Until I touched the tattered jade pendant—a birthday gift I'd given her. She'd always worn it, even when Shen Qingyue broke it, and she'd secretly collected the pieces and hidden them away.
Only then did I dare to admit that I had driven Zhi'er to her death. It was I who had personally destroyed her family, murdered her children, sent her to the Northern Di envoys, and finally forced her to leap from the palace wall, leaving her body to lie in a mass grave, exposed to the elements for a year.
"I'm just an executioner..." I held the box and slowly squatted on the ground. Snowflakes fell on my hair, and soon it turned white. "I'm a bastard, a blind man! I pushed the person who loved me the most into a dead end..."
I thought back to the time when we first met at the Marquis of Loyalty and Bravery's mansion. Sweet osmanthus blossomed that day, filling the courtyard with its fragrance. Zhi'er sat beneath a tree, clutching a copy of the Book of Songs. The sunlight fell on her hair, gilding it. She heard footsteps, looked up at me, her eyes sparkling like stars, and smiled as she asked, "Who are you?" She was so pure, so innocent then. How could I have turned her into what she became?
Later, when she entered the palace, I gave her a pink dress. She was so happy she couldn't sleep all night. The next day, she wore it and walked around the courtyard again and again, asking me, "Does it look good?" I frowned and said, "Women should be dignified," which dampened her joy. Now I know that the pink dress was her monthly allowance, which she had saved for a long time, and she wanted to give it to me as a surprise; she walked around the courtyard to make me look at her more, to like her more.
But what was I doing then? I was accompanying Shen Qingyue to admire the flowers, listening to her say, "Yun Zhi is scheming and wants to steal your affection," and turning a blind eye to Zhi'er's grievances. Even when she was pushed into the pond by Shen Qingyue and had a high fever, I still suspected she was faking it to gain my sympathy.
"Why am I so stupid..." I hit my head with my fist, the pain made my vision black, but I still couldn't stop, "Why didn't I see Shen Qingyue's vicious heart? Why didn't I protect you? Why didn't I listen to your explanation?"
The snow fell heavier, and the temperature in the thatched cottage dropped ever lower. My hands and feet were numb from the cold, and I barely had the strength to hold the box. But I didn't dare sleep, afraid that if I did, I'd dream of Zhi'er leaping from the palace wall—her arms outstretched like a butterfly with broken wings, her last glance at me cold, relieved, and without any lingering feelings.
That glance was more painful than death itself. She didn't even give me a last thought, didn't even want to harbor hatred, and completely severed everything. I'd rather she hated me, I'd rather she wanted revenge on me even after death. At least that way, I still had a place in her heart, even if it was a place of hatred.
But she didn't. She used the excuse of "we owe each other nothing" to completely push me away, into the hell of eternity.
I abandoned the throne, scattered my wealth, and threw away everything I once owned. Some people said I was crazy, that it wasn't worth it for a woman. But they didn't know that Zhi'er wasn't just "a woman," she was my life, my only salvation. I threw those things away not to atone for my sins, but because without her, those things were just a pile of garbage to me, a pile of garbage that made me sick.
In my thatched cottage, I talk to the box day and night, telling of the past, my regrets, and how I long to go back and protect her again. But the withered bones in the box will never respond to me; the wind and snow outside will never bring her voice; the jade pendant in my arms will never be complete again.
I know I'll never be able to atone for my sins in this lifetime. Even if I die now, in the underworld, Zhi'er won't see me, and none of the 173 members of the Yun family will forgive me. I can only guard these withered bones, this jade pendant, in this thatched cottage, day by day, until I die.
The sound of snowflakes hitting the thatch grew louder, and the box in my arms grew colder. I buried my face in my plain clothes, inhaling the faint sweet scent of osmanthus flowers. It seemed as if I saw Zhi'er smiling under the osmanthus tree that year, reaching out to me and saying, "Xiao Jin, how about we look at the osmanthus flowers together?"
"Okay..." I responded softly, tears falling again, "Zhi'er, let's watch the osmanthus flowers together, go to Jiangnan together, and never separate again..."
My consciousness gradually blurred, and the pain in my chest became less and less. I seemed to see Zhi'er in plain clothes, standing under the osmanthus tree, smiling and reaching out to me. The sunlight fell on the tips of her hair, as bright as it was back then.
I used up my last bit of strength, stretched out my hand towards the figure, and murmured, "Zhi'er, wait for me... I'm here to accompany you... I will never leave you again..."
If there is an afterlife, I no longer want to be a prince, nor do I want power and wealth. I just want to be an ordinary person, meet the girl in plain clothes when the sweet osmanthus flowers bloom, protect her well, love her well, never let her suffer any grievances, never let her shed a tear again.
But I know there's no afterlife. What I owe Zhi'er and the Yun family in this life can only be repaid with eternal regret.
This regret will follow me until the end of time, and will never disappear until all love and hate turn to dust.
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