The General’s Last Regret

The day the general returned to the capital, I breathed my last.

He rode through the city gates with the beloved princess cradled in his arms, passing my coffin without a second glance.

He ordered everything I had left behind to be burned.

One by one—the embroidered sachet I had sewn with my own hands, the socks and shoes I had stitched for him, the sutras I had copied in my own blood…

Later, he would clutch my worn-out embroidered shoe and weep as though his heart were being torn apart.

He finally understood that the person he had sworn to protect with his life was me.

Damian Warrington, I told you long ago.

But back then, you were willing to risk everything to rescue the princess from the enemy camp.

You had no time for me.

1.

When Damian’s horse passed my coffin, he suddenly yanked the reins, a flicker of shock crossing his face.

The princess, her face veiled, leaned against his chest like a lazy cat.

“Evelyn.”

She read the small characters carved into the coffin wood, her tone sharp with displeasure.

“Sounds like a woman. Do you know her?”

Damian kissed the top of her head tenderly—a gentleness I had never seen in him before.

A faint smile curved his lips as he said carelessly, “No one important.”

I thought I had misheard. I slapped my ears hard.

For the past three years, I was the only woman by Damian’s side.

We had shared everything—the moonlit nights, the tangled embraces, the things we should and shouldn’t have done.

Every spring night of passion, he was drenched in sweat with me.

Every breathless whisper, he murmured my name in my ear.

Before he left for war, he had clearly said that when he returned, he would marry me.

I had my eyes closed then. Damian probably thought I was asleep.

But I heard him. And I had been waiting for that moment ever since.

Even as I lay dying, I blamed myself for being so weak.

Why couldn’t I hold on until he came back? To see him one last time, to kiss him once more?

But he said I was no one important.

“Damian, explain yourself… Damian!”

I screamed until my voice gave out, tears streaming down my face, my heart twisting in agony.

I reached out to grab his sleeve, but I could no longer touch him.

I clenched my fists and pounded my chest, feeling as though it would burst from the pressure.

Damian didn’t look back.

I chased after him, desperate, stirring a breeze that lifted the princess’s veil.

…She had a face almost identical to mine.

It felt like a slap across my face. A burning pain seared through my chest, and I stood frozen for a long time.

2.

I followed Damian like a lost soul.

The king welcomed him back with the entire court. He sat close to a few old friends, laughing and chatting animatedly.

Damian, I’m already dead.

How can you still laugh so freely?

A jagged scar ran across Damian’s neck. I heard he got it when he charged into the enemy camp alone to reclaim the princess.

“It was October eighteenth last year. I’ll always remember the day we were reunited.”

The princess raised her glass, her eyes full of affection.

Damian replied, “It was worth it.”

He gazed at her with tender focus, then suddenly seemed dazed.

Someone teased him: “The mighty General Warrington, always so sharp, but you go dumb around the princess.”

“October eighteenth…” Damian repeated softly, then laughed along with the others. “I just feel like I’m forgetting something.”

Damian, I wrote to you. How could you forget?

On October eighteenth last year, you were at the border, charging into the enemy camp for the princess, and you won her heart.

That same day, I gave birth to your child.

Damian, the wound you suffered then must have hurt terribly.

But you don’t know—a woman’s pain in childbirth is a thousand times worse than that.

You always said I was as thin as a bamboo pole, but you never knew how much blood my body could lose.

That day, I bled out until there was almost nothing left.

The midwife asked me: save the mother or the child?

I was terrified she might mishear me, so I screamed through my tears: “The child! Save the child!”

Because he was my child, and he was yours, too.

But back then, you were busy bleeding and fighting for another woman.

You never really read my letters afterward, did you?

3.

In the dead of night, Damian stumbled home drunk to the Warrington estate.

A small bed stood against the wall in his room.

He collapsed onto it heavily.

“Evelyn, my head hurts. Massage it for me.”

Once, he and I had spent every night on that bed in wild passion, the creaking filling the room.

But afterward, Damian always returned to his own bed, sleeping separately.

He said he had nightmares from years of war and was afraid he might hurt me in his sleep.

How foolish I was. I believed everything he said.

I lived in the Warrington estate for three years, and I didn’t even have a proper courtyard.

Damian treated me like a cheap courtesan, keeping me confined to that bed, at his beck and call, always available.

But this time, Damian got no response.

He called again, stubbornly: “Evelyn? I want some of your calming tea…”

I stood by the bed, biting my lip so hard it hurt, my eyes burning with tears.

Damian, why are you calling me? Why are you calling a substitute?

Your true love is back. If you’re hurting, go to her!

Oh, right. The princess is too precious. You wouldn’t dare let her wait on you hand and foot.

Why didn’t you tell me from the start that you only needed a tool to vent your desires?

Why did you pretend to love me and steal my heart?

You might as well have died out there and never come back!

The old butler answered from the doorway, his voice calm.

“General, Evelyn is gone.”

Damian didn’t speak. His eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze cold and clear.

He muttered to himself: “Gone… really gone, then…”

He pushed himself up, hung his head, and let out a laugh.

“Mm. I see.”

“Burn everything she left behind.”

4.

The entire kingdom buzzed with the tale of Damian’s heroic rescue of the princess.

I thought he would soon petition the king for permission to marry her.

But two months passed, and he never mentioned it.

Some friends invited him for drinks. Deep into the evening, Colin, the second son of the imperial censor, asked him: “You risked your life for the princess. Now that you’ve got her back, why aren’t you rushing to marry her?”

The princess sat behind a screen, clutching her handkerchief, blushing and nervous as she waited for Damian’s answer.

Damian swirled his cup and said nothing.

Colin slung an arm around his shoulder and grinned: “Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about that woman in your house?”

The princess’s eyes flickered, and her face darkened.

She and I—one alive, one dead—both waited for Damian’s reply.

“Impossible,” Damian said, tossing back a drink.

Right. Impossible.

I laughed bitterly at myself.

Colin, drunk, leaned on Damian’s shoulder and crowed: “I knew it. A filthy worm from the brothels—how could you ever fancy her?”

“She only got by on the princess’s coattails. Thought she was a phoenix. I just touched her once, and she dared to kick me into Moon Lake…”

Damian’s head snapped up, and he glared at Colin with murderous intent.

That winter, Colin had harassed me, and I kicked him into the lake.

He couldn’t take it, so he lied, claiming I had seduced him and then pushed him in.

I tried to explain, but no one believed me.

Damian made me kneel publicly and apologize to Colin.

I grew up in a nunnery, used to kneeling. It wasn’t a big deal.

But that time, when my knees hit the ground, I felt I would never hold my head up again.

Colin was terrified by Damian’s expression. Before anyone could react, Damian punched him in the face.

He went berserk, beating Colin with fists and feet. Several men couldn’t pull him off.

He stomped on Colin’s wrist, his face eerily calm despite his rage.

“She was my woman. How dare you touch her.”

I watched the spectacle quietly, finding it bitterly amusing.

I didn’t get protection when I was alive. I didn’t want it now that I was dead.

Someone pleaded for Colin: “Brother Warrington, calm down. Colin was foolish. How about we invite Lady Evelyn out another day, and Colin can apologize to her in person…”

Damian shoved the man away. For the first time in a long while, I saw his eyes redden.

“She’s dead! She’s dead! Who can apologize to her now…”

His roar was cut short by the crash of the screen falling.

The princess stared at Damian in silence, her shoulders shaking as she wept heartbreakingly.

5.

Damian froze, then whispered, “Anya…”

He reached out to wipe her tears, but the princess flew into a rage. “Don’t touch me!”

She turned to run, but Damian caught her in two strides, hoisted her onto his shoulder, and ignored her kicking and screaming as he tossed her into the Warrington carriage.

“Liar! You liar! You said she wasn’t important! You love her—you love someone else!”

Damian held her close. “I kept her by my side only because she looked like you. That’s all! Otherwise, without you for three years, how was I supposed to endure?”

“So she was just a toy to pass the time?”

The princess sniffled, her nose red as she looked at Damian. His eyes darkened, and after a long pause, he nodded. “Yes.”

“And you’re not refusing to marry me because of her?”

“Of course not. I just thought you might want to stay by His Majesty’s side a little longer, since you’ve only just returned…”

The princess shook her head violently. “No! I don’t want to wait! Go to Father right now and tell him you want to marry me. Go! Go!”

Her flushed face was adorable. Damian liked women like that.

Once, when I threw a tantrum, he would always silence me with a kiss.

Now, his gaze lingered on her face.

Then he gave her a long, burning kiss—passionate enough to melt every barrier between them.

6.

Damian drafted his petition for the princess’s hand in record time.

From then on, he spent every day with her—playing music, painting, traveling the hills and rivers.

As if to make up for the tears she had shed that day.

He took her to the Four Joys Teahouse, to the seat I always used, overlooking the little bridge and flowing water.

The princess complained.

“It’s filthy.”

“Let’s invite people to the summer palace. If anyone finds out I came to such a shabby place, they’d laugh at me.”

She loved crowds and excitement.

But Damian didn’t.

He had entered the court young, surrounded by scheming from the moment he opened his eyes.

In his free time, he just wanted a quiet place to drink tea and chat with his beloved, lazing the days away.

The Four Joys Teahouse was his favorite spot.

Every day he was away, I came here.

I carved words into the railing beside me, over and over, a devout prayer of longing for him.

The princess noticed and read aloud with a sneer: “Evelyn waits, Damian returns.”

Damian, do you know? After you left, I never had a single peaceful night’s sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw you covered in blood. I was terrified it was yours… I was so scared…

I copied the Peace Sutra in my own blood, word by word.

I thought, if only you were safe, I would trade my life for yours.

Now my wish has come true, but I regret it.

Damian took a sip of tea, his expression unreadable.

The princess grew annoyed at his composure and started again.

“You brought me to a place she came to? What does that mean? I’d be afraid to dirty my clothes sitting where she sat!”

Damian coaxed her patiently: “I never brought her here. If she wanted to come, I couldn’t stop her.”

“Anya, stop fussing over her. She was just a passerby.”

Not just a passerby—a dead woman.

Only women understand women’s hearts. We both know the living can never compete with the dead.

Anya wouldn’t let it go. “She must have been desperate for a man. Clearly not a decent girl—shameless and disgraceful.”

“And you just let her ruin your reputation?”

7.

The princess grabbed something and smashed it against the railing, trying to break the section where I had carved my words.

Damian’s voice turned cold—rare for him.

“Anya, you used to be so graceful. After three years apart, have you become so petty? Look at yourself—do you still seem like a princess?”

Anya froze, her eyes reddening as she choked out: “Damian, are you blaming me for her now?”

Her tears fell one by one onto the table. She was genuinely hurt.

“You say I’ve changed, but have you ever thought about what I went through in those three years? Have you forgotten what you saw the night you rescued me?”

“Father married me off to a beast! A beast! What was a princess of this kingdom worth in enemy lands? Damian, while you were carousing with other women, I was tortured for three years!”

“How can you say that to me? You never used to say a harsh word. I see it now—you think I’m tainted, don’t you?”

She swept the tea set off the table, stood up, and pointed at Damian’s nose.

“Let me tell you something. No matter how tainted or un-princess-like I am, that wretch Evelyn doesn’t deserve to be my substitute!”

“Before the wedding, I want every trace of her gone!”

Princess Anya’s beauty had been legendary across the kingdom since childhood.

As the king’s only daughter, she was more favored than any prince—truly a golden blossom.

She was brilliant, dignified, and unmatched by any woman in the world.

But now she had become this hysterical creature…

I heard that the enemy prince Damian had killed with his own hands was a notorious lecher.

People died in his mansion every few days—most of them women in his bed.

…

The princess ran off crying. Damian clenched his fists but didn’t move. This time, he didn’t chase her.

He walked to the railing and touched the carved words.

“Evelyn waits…”

“What were you waiting for me for?”

He sat in my usual seat, looking up to see the city gates.

Damian laughed, his eyes hollow as he muttered to himself.

“See, I always said you were stubborn. You never admitted it.”

“Those two doors—you stared at them every day. Did you think I’d come back faster?”

“Evelyn, you’re a fool. You gave your heart to someone unworthy. A complete fool.”

Well, what could I do? I got caught in the rain as a child, ran a fever, and wasn’t treated in time.

After that, I became slow and stubborn.

But I wasn’t stupid, Damian.

If you hadn’t deceived me, I would never have loved you.

If I were still alive, you’d see—I don’t love you anymore.

8.

After that, Damian didn’t go to the princess for a while.

I snuck into the palace and saw the queen coaxing her daughter for a long time.

She said every woman wanted a man’s true heart. Damian had used me as a substitute—I was already pitiful enough. The princess shouldn’t fight with Damian over a substitute.

The queen was a kind and understanding woman.

After Damian left the capital, she had summoned me a few times.

Someone so high and mighty, yet every time she saw me, she would take my hand and chat with a smile.

She said she liked me very much, that I felt familiar.

Once, she invited me for milk tea. I got morning sickness and soiled my dress. She personally helped me change into clean clothes and even re-did my hair.

I’m not one to cry easily, but that day, I broke down in front of her.

Her hand stroked my hair—so gentle, so warm.

I said something treasonous: “Your Majesty, you smell like my mother.”

She didn’t scold me. She said we were fated, and that she thought of me as a daughter too.

Looking back now, I had a face just like the princess. The queen must have seen me as a substitute for her as well.

About half a month later, the princess finally relented.

She wrote a letter of apology, held it out with both hands, and bowed her head as she presented it to Damian.

Her sincerity was almost endearing.

“Damian, you were right. As long as I am still a princess of this kingdom, even for a day, I shouldn’t lose my composure.”

“I shouldn’t lower myself by arguing with a servant like Evelyn.”

“I was just afraid… afraid you wouldn’t like me anymore, afraid you’d despise me, afraid I’d wake up one day and you’d tell me you didn’t want me…”

She fought back tears, her voice trembling, and won Damian’s sympathy once again.

Damian pulled her into his arms with a sigh.

“I said I’d stay with you forever. That will never change.”

The princess lightly punched his chest and pouted: “No, I don’t remember you ever saying that.”

Damian frowned, his gaze drifting into the distance, a little lost.

“I did say it. You forgot.”

He comforted her half-heartedly: “Last time, I spoke too harshly. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been through so much these three years. Another day, I’ll take you to Clear Spring Temple to pray and calm your mind.”

Clear Spring Temple…

That was where I had placed an eternal lamp for my dead child.

9.

On the way to Clear Spring Temple, a young girl stopped the princess.

“Big sister, it’s been so long since you came.”

“I just saw you smile. You look so pretty when you smile. Don’t cry anymore.”

“My mother said if you lose a child, you can always have another…”

She had mistaken the princess for me.

The princess frowned and shoved her, making the child cry.

“What nonsense are you talking! Where did this wild brat come from, cursing me like that? Careful, or I’ll cut out your tongue!”

Damian stopped her, took out a piece of candy, and gave it to the girl.

He comforted her until she stopped crying. She pouted, glanced at the princess, then clutched the candy and ran off.

The princess pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Damian, disgusted: “Why bother with her! Filthy thing. Wipe your hands. Children are the worst!”

Damian didn’t take the handkerchief. He didn’t respond either.

He loved children. He used to whisper to me, saying he wanted me to give him a dozen little ones.

I laughed and scolded him—did he think I was a sow?

He’d just say, “So what? I can afford it.”

Damian walked into Clear Spring Temple in silence, his head bowed, lost in thought.

The princess tried to engage him: “I remember you like children. We’ll have a dozen of our own…”

I froze, unsure whether to call the princess naive.

Childbirth was a woman’s passage through the gates of hell. Even a princess wasn’t exempt.

Why burden herself with such a heavy yoke?

But I thought Damian would be pleased.

Instead, he said to the princess: “If you’re afraid of pain and don’t want children, you don’t have to force it.”

How he cherished her.

But the princess didn’t appreciate it. “No one else will bear your children but me. They’re not worthy!”

She threw another tantrum, storming ahead on her own, kneeling angrily before the Buddha. This wouldn’t do.

Damian let her be. He stopped in front of the eternal lamps.

My heart skipped a beat. Half a step to the right, and he would see my daughter’s name.

Damian stared intently, as if searching for something.

He glanced to the left, and the princess followed.

I screamed: “No! Don’t!”

But it was too late.

She saw my precious lamp, her face twisted, and she grabbed it, smashing it to the ground and stomping on it.

I threw myself at her, trying to grab her feet, but I couldn’t touch anything.

My child! My child! Without her lamp on the path of reincarnation, she’ll be afraid! She’s so small—what if she loses her way…

Damian stared in shock at the princess’s frenzy, then shoved her hard.

He picked up the broken pieces, stood slowly, and as if gathering courage, approached the lamp stand.

The empty slot read: Daughter of Damian and Evelyn, Lily.

10.

Damian relit Lily’s lamp.

He stood before it until dark, then a tear fell without warning, snapping him back to reality.

He rode back to the Warrington estate like a madman and berated the entire household.

“Evelyn gave birth to my child—why wasn’t I told!”

“My daughter died—why wasn’t I told!”

The old butler knelt at his feet, as calm as ever.

“General, Evelyn sent you a letter.”

“On October eighteenth, Miss Lily was born. Evelyn wrote to you with the news.”

“Two months later, the young miss was too weak to survive the winter. Evelyn said not to trouble you, fearing you’d be distracted on the battlefield. She said she’d tell you when you returned.”

A letter…

October eighteenth…

Damian’s eyes widened as if struck by a memory. He rushed back to his room like a madman, fumbling through his armor.

Then he pulled out a bloodstained letter.

It had long since stuck together, impossible to open.

He clutched it, slamming his fist into the wall again and again, until he finally slumped against it, drained.

He sat there, dazed, as if he didn’t know who he was or what to do.

Like a walking corpse, he pulled out a small chest from under the bed and opened it mechanically…

Inside were a pair of embroidered shoes. They were small, as if meant for a girl of ten or so.

A pair—but one was brand new, while the other was worn, with traces of smoke and fire.

Damian’s eyes slowly focused. He grabbed the old shoe and roared: “Whose shoe is this! Who put it in here? Who touched my chest!”

I had moved the chest. I had put the shoes inside.

The old shoe was mine.

The new shoe was also mine.

Damian, you’ll never know how overjoyed I was when I accidentally found this chest and saw my shoes inside.

That youthful flutter in my heart—it turned out to be the love of my life.

How wonderful that feeling was. I couldn’t wait to share it with you.

I wrote a long letter, from Lily to the shoes, pouring out every bit of my longing and hope.

Back then, I firmly believed our future would be happy.

But Damian, you never read my letter properly.

What were you doing then?

I don’t know. Either way, you had no time for me.

Look at yourself, Damian.

You kept the shoes I gave you so carefully, but why did you trample our love so carelessly?

Damian sobbed loudly, sitting on the floor, clutching my shoes and my letters, holding them tight as if begging me to come back.

I laughed wildly beside him.

Damian, I hate you.

I have plenty of ways to make your life a living hell, to chase you with regret forever.

11.

Damian wanted to call off the engagement. The princess’s angry expression slowly stiffened.

“Damian, she’s dead! You’re breaking off our engagement for a dead woman?”

She rushed off her seat, clawing at Damian, kicking and hitting him.

“How dare you do this to me! You liar! You bastard! You came after me first! You said you’d stay with me forever!”

Damian grabbed her hands, pinning her to one side. He pulled out the new embroidered shoe, his face terrifyingly cold.

“Yes, I came after you first!”

“Because you lied! Because you said this shoe was yours!”

Back then, bandits had attacked the Water Moon Nunnery, killing and burning. Damian was injured and couldn’t move, so I hid him somewhere.

Before leaving, he asked for a token, saying he would find me no matter where I was.

He said I saved him for a day, and he would repay me for a lifetime.

I had nothing to give, so I took off one of my shoes and handed it to him.

The princess shouted: “It’s mine! It is mine! Mother said so!”

The queen slammed the table, her authority unmistakable.

“General Warrington, have you lost your mind! How dare you overstep like this? Do you think this is your backyard?”

Damian ignored her, staring at the princess instead. “I’ll ask you one more time. Was it you who saved me at the Water Moon Nunnery?”

The princess lied without flinching. “I told you before. It was me.”

Damian snapped: “You’re beyond hope!”

The queen panted with rage. “General Warrington, you’re making a scene over a shoe. That shoe is from the palace. I’m telling you, it belongs to Anya. Do you think I would lie to you?”

Damian lowered his head with a hint of arrogance, his tone loaded with meaning. “Your Majesty knows very well whose shoe this really is.”

The queen’s eyes flickered, as if struck where it hurt. She changed the subject and dismissed him.

“Marriage is a matter of mutual consent. Since you have no intention of marrying Anya, I won’t force you. Leave.”

Anya sobbed and grabbed Damian’s hand, her words broken.

“No! No! Don’t go! You said you’d marry me!”

“Damian! Do you love a person or a pair of shoes?”

Damian gave a cold laugh and pushed her away.

“The one I love, the one I want to marry—it’s not you. You’re a lying, selfish, venomous woman! Since you claimed to be the one I was looking for, we’ve met sixteen times. Sixteen times, and not once did I see you! I only ever saw the girl from the Water Moon Nunnery—the one who was honest and lovely, who made my heart race!”

“So who is she? Is she Evelyn? What a coincidence! Damian, you’ve just changed your mind. Why blame everything on me!”

Damian’s hands clenched tightly. He bit his lip, lowering his head to hide his tears.

“Yes, it’s her. It’s Evelyn.”

“What a coincidence indeed. And there’s a fool like me, who fell in love but kept deceiving himself, missing a fateful match, and being toyed with by a lie!”

12.

Damian decided to move my grave into the Warrington family plot.

The princess got wind of it and arrived first, intending to dig up my grave and deny me peace even in death.

By the time Damian arrived, my coffin lid had already been pried open.

The princess sat slumped to one side. When she saw him, she rushed over to block him.

“Don’t look! Don’t you dare look!”

He shoved her aside and stumbled toward my coffin, only to find it completely empty.

“Where is she! What did you do with her!”

He looked fierce enough to snap her neck.

Someone knelt and grabbed his leg, shouting: “General, this coffin was always empty! General!”

A flicker of hope lit Damian’s eyes.

“…So Evelyn isn’t dead?”

The princess shrieked, cutting him off: “She’s dead! She’s dead! She can’t be alive! That wretch…”

Before she could finish, Damian grabbed her chin and growled: “Say one more word, and I’ll make sure you never speak again!”

“Why? Born from the same womb, you had a smooth life, while she suffered so much?”

It seemed Damian had already investigated everything.

I was supposed to be a princess too.

The queen had given birth to me and Anya—twin daughters.

That year, a drought struck. The court astrologer said twins were unlucky, and the king ordered the elimination of all twins in the kingdom.

Fearing for her position, the queen decided to abandon one of the infant girls.

Unfortunately, I was the one chosen.

I was sent to the remote Water Moon Nunnery. The maid who escorted me despised me.

She said if it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t have to suffer in a nunnery.

She often lost her temper, and when she did, she would use the palace’s various punishments on me.

One rainy day, on a whim, she made me lie in the rain and covered my face with yellow paper.

The paper got wet and stuck firmly to my face. She stood under the eaves, watching me struggle for breath like a fish out of water.

I almost died, but the nun saved me.

After that, I fell gravely ill, and the fever damaged my mind. I forgot most of my past.

13.

I forgot I was supposed to be a princess.

Until… until I discovered that the queen had poisoned Lily and me.

After giving birth to Lily, my health never recovered. Lily was the same—more breath going out than coming in, quiet and pitiful, never crying or fussing.

I took her to every famous doctor in the capital, but none could explain it.

Finally, a traveling monk took pity on us and whispered that we had been poisoned with a rare palace toxin, with no cure among the common folk.

It hit me like a thunderbolt. I carried my child to the palace gates and begged to see the queen. The moment I saw her, everything came flooding back.

I called out to her: “Mother… Mother…”

Mother, how could you be so cruel?

She slapped me across the face and scolded me for talking nonsense.

She threw Damian’s letter at my feet.

The letter said he had rescued the princess, driven back the enemy, and would soon return to the capital.

He said he would marry her, make her the most radiant bride, and cherish her forever.

He only asked the king to grant his request.

Damian, I wrote you letters, and you never replied.

You were too busy asking for the princess’s hand.

“Evelyn, don’t hate me. There can only be one princess in this world.”

“I’ve been merciful to let you live this long.”

“Anya is back. The general won’t want you anymore. What’s the point of living?”

“Don’t worry. I personally prepared the poison. Your mother knows you’re afraid of pain. It won’t hurt. You’ll just fall asleep and never wake up… it won’t hurt…”

Lily drank my milk, so naturally, she couldn’t survive either.

Damian, do you know what it feels like to kill your own child?

Watching her, little by little, stop breathing in my arms—I wanted to tear myself apart.

But I couldn’t.

I was afraid that if I died first, no one would perform her funeral rites. I could linger as a vengeful ghost, but my child couldn’t.

To be born into my womb was her misfortune. She hadn’t even had a chance to see the world properly before she had to die with me.

I lit an eternal lamp for her, praying for her peace in the next life—and in every life after.

But my mind really wasn’t what it used to be. By the time I died, I had slowly forgotten all of this.

That’s why I wasted so many tears on you and her.

Looking at the empty coffin, I finally understood.

I was indeed dead. My body had been entrusted to someone I trusted, buried where no one could find it.

And I lingered in this world because I still had important things to witness.

14.

Damian revealed to the king that the queen had given birth to twins.

The queen was guilty of deceiving the sovereign. She was stripped of her title and given a cup of poisoned wine.

Before she died, she held a pair of little tiger-head shoes in her arms and smiled calmly.

She said: “She really is my daughter.”

I spat.

I told you I would make you pay. I wasn’t just talking.

As for the princess, after the sudden upheaval, she went mad.

She was confined to a side palace, likely never to see the light of day again.

Step by step, everything went according to my plan.

I had lived with Damian for over three years. I knew his temperament inside out.

I didn’t need to do anything. Just one embroidered shoe was enough to make him tear himself apart for me.

15.

After seeing my empty coffin, Damian went mad searching for me.

I waited until he was exhausted and on the verge of despair. Then a child delivered a letter to the Warrington estate.

I had written it before I died.

I arranged to meet him at a ruined temple on the outskirts of the city. He rode there at full speed.

Dismounting, he strode into the temple in two steps. Seeing the empty space, he murmured: “Evelyn, is it really you? Come out… stop tormenting me, please…”

A cup of tea sat on the altar, with a letter beneath it.

“Damian, stop looking. I’m already dead.”

“The tea is poisoned. If you want to see me, drink it. I’ll be right here, watching you.”

Damian, do you dare to gamble? Is this a test?

Am I alive or dead? Is the tea really poisoned? If you drink it, will you die?

If you live, will you see me?

If you die, will you see me?

How about it? Isn’t my riddle a headache?

Damian stared at the cup of tea. Unexpectedly, without a second thought, he picked it up and drank every last drop.

“Evelyn, I don’t have the right to think so much.”

“I wronged you. So I’ll do as you say.”

“If you want me to live, I’ll live. If you want me to die, I’ll die…”

Damian, your devotion came too late.

I watched him collapse before me.

Outside, my friend, dressed in my clothes, appeared and lit the oil I had poured earlier.

The flames climbed the walls and engulfed the roof in moments.

Damian woke up, coughing.

Damian, did you really think I’d let you die so easily?

The tea only had a sleeping draught. I just wanted to make sure you couldn’t escape the fire.

The biggest regret of my life was meeting you.

I should have let you die in that fire at the Water Moon Nunnery.

Damian struggled to his feet, but the fire was too fierce. There was no escape.

He strained his eyes to see the figure outside and screamed with a breaking heart: “Evelyn! Evelyn! I’ve finally found you…”

“You’re not dead! Thank God, you’re not dead…”

“I’ll… I’ll stay with you…”

His voice gave out. The smoke had destroyed his throat.

I watched the flames lick at his clothes. He stood still.

He smiled. I smiled too.

My soul grew translucent, and I suddenly felt as light as a feather.

No more burdens. That’s what it meant.

I had settled my earthly affairs. I could finally move on to reincarnation.

Damian, do you know?

A ghost with lingering attachments cannot enter the cycle of rebirth.

You saw “me.” “I” am still alive.

Too bad. You’ll never find me.

I want you to wander this world for ten years, a hundred years, a thousand years—burdened with guilt and regret.

I want you to become a lost soul, never to be reborn for all eternity.

Damian, my life will begin anew.

And you—you will be frozen in this moment forever.