Chapter 8 — General, It's No Time Anymore... My Wife Has Remarried

I used the money that Hoac Dien gave me to buy a small cottage, took two maids and started a life of closing the door and not going out. Every day we copy sutras, draw pictures, play the piano, trying to calm our hearts down. But every time it's quiet late at night, Tham Khoat's face always clearly appears in my mind. His simple smile. His warm hand. The back that once stood in front of me... My heart will still spasm painfully. Hoac Dien said he had married his wife, had children, and that his life had been extremely peaceful and good over the years. We should be happy for him. But why do tears always fall without listening? Time is truly the best medicine. Although the wound in my heart has never healed, it doesn't seem to be as painful as before. We gradually get used to living alone, and gradually accept that we will probably be lonely for the rest of our lives. I started to step out of the hospital and opened a small embroidery shop in town. My embroidery skills, which I learned from the best concubine in the capital, quickly became famous throughout the small town. Business is getting better and better, every day we are busy non-stop, on the contrary, there is not much time left to mourn spring and autumn. It's just that sometimes when we see couples walking side by side on the street, we still can't help but feel a faint trace of bitterness in our hearts. I used to think that my life would continue to pass peacefully like that. Until that day, when a familiar figure appeared in front of my embroidery shop. It's Deputy General Truong. Compared to a few years ago, he looked much more haggard and weathered, with a hint of fatigue and... begging on his face.

“Madam.”

He bowed to me, his voice hoarse.

"His Marquis... is about to fail."

I followed Deputy General Truong back to the capital that had suffocated me for such a long time. The Dinh Bac Marquis Palace still has such a grand sect, but everywhere reveals a sense of decline and coldness. I was taken to Hoac Dien's bedroom. The strong smell of medicine hit me straight in my face, making me almost unable to breathe. On the bed was lying a bone-thin man. If I hadn't still faintly recognized that familiar outline, I would almost not have believed that the person in front of me was the incomparable Dinh Bac Marquis of the past - Huo Dien. His face was as yellow as a candle, his lips were dry and chapped, and his eyes were deeply sunken. Princess Truong Ninh is not here. Deputy General Truong told me that two years ago, during an argument with Princess Truong Ninh, Huo Dien, in a fit of anger, proactively asked to go on an expedition to Bac Cuong again. That battle was extremely brutal. Although he won the battle, he was also seriously injured, leaving behind countless illnesses. After returning to the capital, his body gradually deteriorated. At first, Princess Truong Ninh still took care of her wholeheartedly, but as time passed, she gradually became tired and tired. She stayed in the palace all day and did not want to return to the Marquis Palace anymore. In the end, in such a large Marquis Palace, only he was left alone, his life being eroded day by day by illness.

"His Marquis... even when he was in a coma, he kept calling your name."

Deputy General Truong's voice was a bit muffled.

“Phu Man, I know I shouldn't come looking for you, but... I really can't bear to see the general... just leave like that..."

I walked over to the bed and quietly looked at him. He slept restlessly, his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth muttering something vaguely. I bent down and listened attentively.

“A Ly… don't go…”

“I was wrong…”

"A Ly... my cassia flower extract... try it..."

Tears suddenly fell, without any warning.

I don't know if these tears are for him, or for myself, or for our past - a past that can never come back again. I reached out and gently held his hand, which was so thin that it was just skin and bones.

“Hoo Dien, I'm here.”

My appearance seems to have given Hoac Dien a glimmer of will to live on. His spirit is much better. He can drink half a bowl of porridge, and can also lean on the head of the bed and talk to me a few words. He dismissed all the servants in the room, leaving only me alone.