Chapter 8 — In my previous life, I saved my son. In this life, I give in to my younger sister

In the end, he died on the way to exile from a prolonged high fever. When the news came, father was silent for a long time. After that, he only said one word: I don't know if he was talking about Tiet Chi Nhu or Luc Thieu. After Tiet Chi Nhu tragically died, his father was heartbroken and depressed for a long time. Quy Thu Nghieu and I discussed with each other and often returned to Tiet Palace to visit and keep him company. One time, Quy Thu Nghieu stayed and drank a few glasses of wine with her father. He drank to the point of being a little drunk. He held my hand while sitting next to me, his eyes blurred by alcohol:

“Zhi Nghi, father made a dream.”

"In that dream, the person marrying Luc Thieu was not my sister, but me. But in the end, he drowned me in the lake and died in pain."

"My younger sister also didn't have a good time. She was determined to run away from her marriage. In the end, she was still killed by bandits on the way."

Speaking of this, two lines of tears flowed down from his cloudy eyes:

“Luckily it was just a dream.”

“Even though my sister is really dead, fortunately, I have had a good life.”

I tried to suppress the emotions rolling in my heart, smiling slightly:

“Father, don't think too much.”

“Next year, when your great-grandmother is born, you will also have to personally give the baby a nice name.”

(Side story 1-Luc Thieu) The day Luc Thieu was escorted out of the capital, a very cold drizzle fell. Those twenty hits almost took half of his life. His back was torn, the prison uniform stuck to the wound, every time the iron chains dragged on the ground, his body trembled, but the guards behind him did not let him stop. From a Crown Prince of An Duong Marquis who once rode a high horse and a brocade coat blowing in the wind through a long street, he turned into a prisoner exiled three thousand miles away, even having to look at someone else's face to drink a bowl of hot water. At first, Luc Thieu still laughed. He laughed at Tiet Chi Nhu, who in the end still refused to bear the trouble with him. He laughed at how she had spent all her efforts trying to marry into the Marquis Palace, but when the Marquis Palace collapsed, she grabbed her gold and silver and fled into the night. He laughed even more at himself, because in his previous life, because of such a woman, he personally pushed Tiet Chi Nghi into the lake, thinking it was justice, revenge, and repaying the debt she owed Tiet Chi Nhu. But when he smiled at the end, the corners of his mouth trembled. The wound on his back started to have a fever. At night, the escort group rested in an abandoned temple. The cold wind rushed in from the crack in the door, blowing out half the fire in the firewood pile. Luc Thieu lay huddled on the ground, his whole body felt as if it were on fire, but his fingertips were so cold that he was no longer conscious. In his daze, he heard the sound of lake water hitting the side of the boat, sound by sound, as if coming from a previous life. He saw the small boat in the middle of the lake again. That day, Tiet Chi Nghi was three months pregnant. She wore a light blue coat and sat opposite him, with a gentle smile on her face that he once hated. When the boat capsized, she almost didn't hesitate and immediately struggled and swam towards him. The lake water was bone-chillingly cold, she was clearly scared, her face was clearly pale, but in her eyes there was only him. In his previous life, he only felt bored. He thought, if It wasn't her that intervened, the person who saved him that year was Tiet Chi Nhu. If she hadn't taken the position of Crown Princess, Tiet Chi Nhu wouldn't have had to run away, wouldn't have died on the mountain road, and the child in her womb would also have had a dignified status. So when Tiet Chi Nghi's hand was about to touch the side of the boat, he coldly kicked her away. But this time, in the dream, he saw much more clearly. He saw her trembling hand reaching out, her nails turning white from the force. He saw her eyes turn from joy to surprise, then from surprise to unbelievable pain. He saw her holding her stomach, her body gradually sinking to the bottom of the lake, her pale blue shirt being pulled by the water into a withered flower. She did not die alone. In her womb there was his child. This thought was like a blunt knife, bit by bit cutting into Luc Thieu's heart. He once heard a doctor say that a three-month-old child has begun to take root in its mother's womb. Although still small, it is already a real life.