Chapter 7 — Going Back to Modern Day, Le Vuong Goes Crazy

When I got home that night, I surfed the internet and saw a post. 【Exposing famous love-sick men in history.】 Inside there is mention of King Li of Dai Liang. The article said that Le Vuong did not have a main concubine throughout his life, only favoring a single concubine. After his concubine passed away early, Le Vuong was extremely miserable. Even because of her, the entire Tu family was destroyed. In the end, he died in depression, his hand still clutching the relics of the concubine. Below, the comments are all exclamations.

“Wow, so touching!”

“This is beautiful love!”

“If I were that concubine, I would be satisfied with death.”

I looked at those comments and just felt sarcastic. Moving? That love that comes late is lighter than a blade of grass. He destroyed the Tu family just to vent his anger. It was to hide his own helplessness and regret. If only he had known to appreciate it sooner, even for just one day. I won't leave in such a heartless way either. I turned off the phone and buried my face in the soft pillow. Tieu Canh Hanh. You just stay in the history books and make a lovey-dovey joke. And me. Will live his life to the fullest in a place he can never reach.

8

On weekends, the company organizes team building and visits museums. Just won a special exhibition about the Great Liang Dynasty. At first I didn't plan to go. But as the boss, I can't help but show my face. In the exhibition room, many antiques are displayed. Gold and silver items, calligraphy, jade. Each dish carries traces of history. I took a quick look until I stopped in front of an independent glass cabinet. Inside is a notebook. The paper has turned yellow and has burn marks on the edges. The introduction board reads: 【Le Vuong's handwriting (torn copy)】. My heart suddenly tightened. As if someone had commanded me, I moved a little closer. Even though it was a layer of glass apart, I still recognized that handwriting. It's Tieu Canh Hanh's. Hysterical, scribbled, every word seems to be engraved on the heart. 【In the winter of the third year of Vinh An, Niem Niem left. My heart also died.】 【In the spring of the fourth year of Vinh An, the entire Tu family was slaughtered. Blood flowed like a river, still unable to change a single smile from Niem Niem.】 【In the fifth year of Vinh An, the eternal pain that gnawed at my heart became more intense. I'm happy, it's Niem Niem's touch.】 【Nim Niem, I was wrong. I was really wrong.】 【If there is an afterlife, in exchange I will be her substitute, bearing all the pain she has ever endured.】 There is also an object next to it. It's an eyebrow pencil broken in half. It was the pen that year that, when he heard the news of Tu Uyen Doanh's return, he broke it. Unexpectedly... he kept it until the end. Colleagues around me started talking.

“This Le Vuong is truly a crazy, infatuated beauty.”

“Every word is written in despair.”

"Who is that person named Niem Niem? What makes him so crazy?"

I stood in the middle of the crowd, looking at those words. My heart was as quiet as a dead lake. No emotion, no resentment. It's just like watching a stranger's story. Suddenly, I felt a gaze. Turn your head to look. In the corner of the exhibition room, hangs a painting. In the painting is a woman standing on top of Tinh Lau, her clothes red as fire, turning her head and smiling coldly. The eyes in the painting are full of fierceness and liberation, vividly portrayed by the artist down to every stroke. That's... how I looked when I left. Next to the picture is the small text: 【Crime by Tieu Canh Hanh, a masterpiece written with blood and tears.】 It turns out, the last image he saw of me — was like this. Not a gentle and obedient concubine. It was Tham Niem reborn from the sea of fire. I slightly curled the corners of my lips. Look at the painting, gently say:

“Not bad at drawing.”

Then turned around, put on high heels and left without hesitation. Behind him, Tieu Canh Hanh's sigh seemed to echo. Through thousands of years of time. Light as smoke.

9

According to records in history books. Le Vuong Tieu Canh Hanh died in the sixth year of Vinh An. That winter was especially cold. The capital poured down a heavy snowfall that was rare in hundreds of years. Tieu Canh Hanh dismissed all his subordinates. Climb up Tinh Lau alone. He wore thin clothes, holding a weathered robe in his arms. In his hand, he clutched the Ky Unicorn jade pendant. The cold wind was like a knife, cutting into his face. But he didn't feel pain. Because the pain in his heart had paralyzed him for a long time.

“Nim Niem.”

He leaned against the railing, looking at the snow flying into the sky.

“Look, it's snowing.”

“She once said, good snow signals a bountiful year.”

“Unfortunately... I won't be able to see spring next year.”

His body has reached its limit. The pain that gnawed at his heart tormented him for three years. The five internal organs and six organs were soon exhausted. But he still tried hard. Until today.