Chapter 10 — Forget Them All, We'll Live Better Again

The corners of my eyes are a little wet. A Dan pretended not to see. She just quietly wrapped a thin cloak around my shoulders.

"The wind is strong, young lady, don't let it get cold."

Winter of second year. Luc Minh Chu arrived in Nam Chau. It doesn't come in directly. Just sat at the tea shop opposite the pharmacy for 3 days. A Dan soon discovered it. She asked me:

“Have you seen each other?”

Through the window, I saw that young man, who had grown much taller. It wears a blue long dress, its back is straight. But when he bowed his head to drink tea, his appearance was still the same as that of a child who was afraid of the dark.

“No see.”

A Dan nodded. On the 4th day, Luc Minh Chu left. Before leaving, he asked the tea shop owner to bring him a small wooden box. In the box is a piece of peace jade. On Thursday he turned 5 years old, I prayed for him myself. Next to it there is also an envelope. I don't open it. Bao A Dan burned it. When the flame just licked the surface of the paper. Suddenly I spoke up:

“What does it say?”

“Don't you want to read, young lady?”

“I was just asking.”

She was silent for a moment.

"Miss...that letter said: 'Mother, Minh Chu does not dare to ask for forgiveness. I only hope that you will live a hundred years and be peaceful every year.'"

I look at the coal pot. The paper quickly burned to ashes. Luc Minh Chu is smarter than Luc Hoai Nghien. It knows there are mistakes. Tears and prayers cannot be used to make up for it. It also knows. Quietly retreat far away. It's the last bit of dignity left. By the third year, Luc Hoai Nghien was about to die. Trung Ba brought news. He said. The Prince Regent no longer recognized many people. But the strange thing is. He forgot about court affairs. Forget Tong Dao. Forget all the confidants next to you. But I always remember one name. Every day after waking up. The first thing he asked was:

“Is Tri Vi back yet?”

No one dared to answer. So he stood up himself. I groped my way under the apple tree in the back yard. It is an apple tree that was moved from the old monastery. The tree is still alive. It's just that each year bears fruit. The apples are both small and tart. Trung asked me:

“Miss, do you want to come back and take a look?”

A Dan immediately said:

“Not coming back.”

But we remained silent. That night. I dreamed a dream. Dreaming of an old mansion on the outskirts of the capital. Snow covered the whole yard. Luc Hoai Nghien of his younger years stood in the hallway. In hand holding an umbrella. He lost patience and said:

“Tham Tri Vi, please go faster.”

I bowed my head and looked at myself. In his hand he was holding a basket of newly dug radishes. We still don't know. It will hurt so much later. After waking up. We sit for a long time. Come morning. I told A Dan:

“Back on a trip.”

A Dan panicked.

“Miss!”

I patted her hand gently.

“Not for forgiveness.”

“It's to look back at the years I've buried with my own hands.”

The day we return to the capital. There was a little snow in the sky. A new sign has been replaced in front of the Royal Palace gate. The old person is also more than half destroyed. Luc Minh Chu personally came to welcome me. Three years no see. It has matured and become much more mature. When you see me. Its eye sockets were red. But did not step forward. Just speak softly:

“Miss Shen.”

I smiled.

“Your Highness has truly grown up.”

His eyelashes trembled slightly. Bowing his head, he replied: It led me there backyard. Under the apple tree. Luc Hoai Nghien is sitting in a wheelchair. He was so skinny that his appearance almost completely changed. Her hair is more than half gray. His body was also covered with a thick fox fur coat. Heard footsteps. He slowly raised his head. I stood a few steps away from him. He looked at me for a long time. Suddenly smiled. The voice was very quiet. As if afraid of waking up a dream. I don't step closer. In his eyes. Little by little a layer of tears rose.

“She's back.”

“Let's go back and take a look.”

He nodded.

“Go back and see... that's good.”

The wind blows through the apple tree. Dry branches collided with each other, making rustling sounds. Luc Hoai Nghien tried his best to raise his hand. In his palm he placed several wrinkled apples.

"It's this year's apples."

“Not sweet.”

It seemed he was a little guilty.

“I originally wanted to pick the best fruits for you.”

“But the tree is old.”

I look at those apples. Suddenly remembered many years ago.