Chapter 6 — Broken Pearls Are Hard to Heal

After that incident, the way everyone in the city looked at me changed. The looks of contempt and pity from before had completely disappeared, replaced by a politeness that almost brought with it awe. Everyone knows that behind the widow of the Tham family, there is a King of Hell who lives with cruel tricks. But that living King of Hell never entered my store again. Occasionally, late at night when the door is closed, we still see a rustic carriage parked in a hidden corner at the end of the street. It wasn't until I finished installing the last door panel and locking the store securely that the carriage slowly rolled on the blue stone floor and left with a thud. We know who is in the car. But I don't care. Never even looked back. I originally thought that life would go on peacefully like that. Until one afternoon in early autumn, a lady I knew came to the shop to give me an embroidery sample. Before leaving, she turned pale and gently pulled my sleeve.
"Tong's wife, have you heard the news? Something big happened to her."
I'm bowing my head and adjusting the thread. Hearing that, his hand moved, the long needle stabbed straight into the tip of his finger, immediately a drop of red blood flowed out. I still calmly held the tip of my finger in my mouth.
“What does the affairs of the district governor have to do with ordinary people like us?”
“That's not true!”
Tu Nuong was so impatient that she stomped her feet and lowered her voice.
"This morning, the translation station just delivered the official notice. The district attorney has submitted a petition to the court. He asked himself to have his name removed from the family record, completely breaking with Quy in Duong Chau."
The basket containing thread in my hand fell to the ground. Rolls of five-colored thread were scattered everywhere. I stood frozen in place. There was only ringing in my ears. In this era where family and bloodline are valued more than life, a court official asking to have his name removed from the family record is tantamount to destroying his own future and cutting off his own roots. There is no longer any big family power to back it up. On the official stage, he will be like a rootless duckweed, and at any time he can be torn apart by enemies. What's more... That's the Quy family, where he was born and raised.
"I heard that people from Duong Chau have arrived, causing chaos in the whole area."
Tu Nuong kept sighing.
"The old lady was so angry that she almost fainted. She pointed straight at the lord's face and scolded him for being disobedient. But the lord did not even blink. He gritted his teeth and endured thirty lashes of the Quy family's family law. He was kicked until his flesh and blood were raw, determined to force the patriarch to put a seal on paper and say goodbye. Now that his old illness has relapsed, the doctor said that he is afraid that he will not be able to survive this fall."
The hall was eerily quiet. I looked at the chaos on the ground. A dull pain suddenly rose in my chest, so painful that I almost couldn't breathe. Quy Hanh... He is truly a crazy person. Night falls. Outside, it was drizzling with autumn rain. I don't light a fire. Just sitting alone in the dark accounting room, staring blankly at the rain outside the window. Suddenly, there were several heavy knocks on the door. I walked over to open the door. Standing outside the door is not Quy Hanh. It was Truong Phong, his confidant next to him. The young guard was usually serious, but at this moment his eyes were red. As soon as he saw me, he made a "thud" sound and knelt down on the wet steps.
“Miss Song.”
His voice was hoarse.
"Sir... you're not going to make it."
I stand in the doorway. Hand hidden in the sleeve, tightening until it hurts.
"Sir Truong Phong, I already told you. The Tham family is a clean family and does not keep outsiders overnight."
Truong Phong suddenly raised his head. Tears finally burst.
“Your Majesty, do not allow your subordinates to disturb you, Miss.”
“He said, after death, he will be buried in An Duong district.”
“That way… we'll be a little closer to the lady.”
Truong Phong raised the iron box in his arms and stuffed it into my hand.
“These are all the things you have kept for the past four years.”
“He once told his subordinates to burn everything after he died.”
“But my subordinates can't do it.”
"My subordinates have followed you since you were young, seeing with your own eyes how you endured all sorts of torment to find your lady."
“Miss Song.”
“You are guilty.”
“But in your heart you must know…”
“Your Majesty, this subordinate… what did you do wrong?”
Truong Phong slammed his head on the ground and then decisively rushed into the pouring rain. The door slowly closed again. I tremblingly raised my hand to open the bronze lock on the chest. There was no gold, silver or jewels inside. There are only stacks of letters neatly arranged. I reached out and picked up the top stack of letters. Under the dim light. We can clearly see that the edges of each letter have black burn marks. First letter. Written on the third day after Quy Hanh sailed on a merchant ship that year. My fingertips trembled. Slowly opened the torn letter.
“Ah Am, seeing the letter is like meeting someone face to face.
The boat left the dock three days ago, the wind on the river is very strong, I miss her very much. Today in the cabin, I met a Tay Duong merchant. In his hand, he had a strange item that rang on its own at the right time, extremely delicate. I used jade pendants to exchange for it, intending to wait until the day I return to give it to you. Duong Chau must be in autumn by now. The Buddha hall is deserted, my mother's health is not good, so I have to trouble her to be filial on my behalf. It is said that she is afraid of the cold, so don't be greedy for coolness. When I return, I will definitely watch the unfinished first snow of the season with you..." Below the letter, a large space had been burned by fire. At the bottom of the stack of letters was a deposition sheet with Mother Trieu's signature and fingerprint. Written on it in red letters like blood.
"Every letter sent back from the young master's family, every time the young lady mentioned it, the old lady personally read it, then threw it into a pot of coal and burned it all, not keeping a single word."
Look at that line of text. After four years. My tears finally fell without warning onto the scorched letter. Fingertips gently stroke along the surface of the paper.