Chapter 5 — I Will No Longer Be Your Star

Mother Manh pulled me toward her with an affectionate grip. She brought out several lengths of fabric she had just selected, insisting on tailoring a few sets of fine garments for me, and began to hold them against my frame to gauge the fit.

"Mother Manh, I still have wine to brew. Wearing such delicate things would be quite impractical."

"What is impractical about it? You are in the prime of your youth; you should dress elegantly and enjoy your beauty."

She smiled as she spoke, but her expression suddenly shifted, a trace of hesitation clouding her eyes. I realized she had something on her mind. Indeed, a moment later, Mother Manh took a deep breath, her gaze resting upon me with profound sentimentality.

"Linh, thanks to you, these past few years have been easier to bear. In my heart, I have long since considered you one of our own."

I lowered my eyes, listening as she continued.

"If you do not mind... would you be willing to become my adopted daughter? From this day forward, you and I shall be mother and daughter, and I shall treat you exactly as if you were my own flesh and blood."

Mother and daughter... I instantly understood the implication and observed her silently. The smile in her eyes seemed masked, fluttering between a sense of guilt and fragility. Yet, it was clear that a hidden motive drove her. She bit her lip and pressed on.

"Linh, I will not hide it from you. I have had a recurring dream. I dreamt that Truong Trach was stripped of his rank, that we were torn apart, and that we never saw one another again before the end." It was just like the previous life. Mother Manh sighed with melancholy. Manh Truong Trach was a different man now, yet the imperial court remained a treacherous place, filled with deep schemes and cold traps. If he were to have a powerful patron, he would always have someone to speak on his behalf should disaster strike. The arrival of Tham Minh Chau had given Mother Manh hope. Compared to a noblewoman who could secure her son’s future, the scales of her heart were tipping. I wondered, in that dream of hers, did she see my own fate?

I had already endured such things in my previous life, so when Mother Manh spoke these words, my heart remained undisturbed. If anything, I felt a sense of relief. Seeing my prolonged silence, Mother Manh grew more flustered, unable to look me in the eye.

"I... I was just speaking nonsense, surely..."

"Very well."

Facing her bewildered expression, I offered a gentle smile. "Mother Manh, had you not taken me in all those years ago, I do not know where I would be suffering today." We had leaned on one another for so long, our bond deep and heavy with meaning. We were already closer than actual mother and daughter; there was no need for the formal rite of adoption. My understanding moved her deeply. Her eyes grew moist, and she squeezed my hands tightly, promising that she would eventually find me a good home to settle in, ensuring that my years of sacrifice would not be in vain.

Leaving Mother Manh’s courtyard, I crossed paths with Manh Truong Trach as he returned home. He walked with hurried strides, and we met beneath the sheltered corridor. Both of us stopped instinctively. His gaze pierced through the shadows of the hall toward me before he stepped forward.

"My Lord."

"Has Tham Minh Chau been here?"

"Yes."

"Did she give you any trouble?"

Manh Truong Trach’s brows furrowed slightly, his stoic demeanor betraying a glimmer of genuine concern. I paused for a moment, suddenly recalling my past life—the time when Manh Truong Trach finally learned of all I had done for him. Because of Mother Manh’s death, a chasm had grown between us. After a year of living apart within the manor, he had returned from court one day and unexpectedly entered my quarters. The maidservant cleaning the room panicked, and even I was stunned.

"My Lord..."

Manh Truong Trach waved for everyone to leave. Under my bewildered gaze, he suddenly reached out and took my hand.

"Linh, you never told me... that you could no longer brew wine because of what Tham Minh Chau did to you."

I understood then, attempting to pull my hand away, but he held it firmly. I caught the faint, shimmering redness in his eyes. After we had entered the capital in that previous life, I had become renowned among the nobility for my brewing. When Manh Truong Trach was banished to Linh Nam for the second time, I followed him. The climate there was humid and hot, so I used local fruits to craft wine; the drink was sweet, refreshing, and fragrant, quickly becoming a favorite. Later, I even taught the method to the poor for free, passing on the skill so they could earn a living. Because of this, the local officials had submitted memorials praising my virtues, which had, in turn, burnished Manh Truong Trach’s own reputation.

When he was banished a third time, I remained in the capital. For three years, I served as a slave to Tham Minh Chau, who had heard of my skill. She forced me to break through ice in the dead of winter to gather snow for brewing, claiming that only then would the wine be truly refined. The winters in the capital were frozen, and my hands were covered in raw, cracked skin. They would heal only to split open again. Eventually, it left me with a lasting affliction—a tremor that would seize me at the slightest cold. I could barely hold anything, let alone handle the delicate craft of brewing. Manh Truong Trach had once asked me why I stopped, but at that time, his mentor had not yet retired, and Tham Minh Chau had married into a powerful family. Even if he had known the truth, what could he have done? I did not wish to stir up the past and only told him, "Everything is in the past now."

I had moved past it, yet Manh Truong Trach seemed unable to forget. Two years later, the Grand Secretary retired, leaving the position vacant. Manh Truong Trach was appointed as the new Grand Secretary. Not long after, Tham Minh Chau’s husband’s household was exposed for massive corruption, and the entire family was exiled to the frontier. Tham Minh Chau came to the Manh estate to beg, hoping Manh Truong Trach would speak to the Emperor on her behalf. At that moment, the grand gates were thrown open. Manh Truong Trach stood tall, his hands clasped behind his back, looking down from the heights at the haggard, withered face of Tham Minh Chau.

"The day you humiliated my wife, did you ever imagine that this day would come?"

Tham Minh Chau lifted her head, her eyes filled with absolute terror.