Chapter 3 — Judge's Debt Book

That man, the man I call "father", that year watched my mother being beaten to death, one body, two lives, yet he never even said a harsh word to the murderer. He allowed his concubine to kill his wife, allowing his wife to live in the palace as a superfluous person. He tolerated Aunt Lieu and pushed her sister into the fire pit, but treated me as if I didn't exist. In his eyes, there was only Concubine Lieu. There are only gentle places and his happy days. That kind of man is not worthy of being a father, and even less worthy of living. Father's body was already not good. My father is Tham Ba Dung, in the eyes of outsiders, he is elegant and well-maintained. But he loved alcohol and cold food, and in order to satisfy the fox-like charm of Concubine Lieu, he secretly used some strong drugs to help him get excited. Alcohol had long since wiped out his body's vitality. The doctor once came to examine him, said that his liver was hot and his kidneys were dry, prescribed some warm medicine, and told him to be careful in nursing. Of course he refused to abstain. Wine is still drunk, meat is still eaten, Aunt Lieu only needs to be a spoiled person and he will obey everything. This just suits me. I did not use strong medicine like when dealing with foreign minister Tong. With my father, my methods are even more discreet and "thoughtful". I researched a type of "sedative and calming tea" with several precious medicinal herbs added inside, which can make you feel comfortable after drinking alcohol and quickly restore energy after fatigue. I gave this prescription of tea to Lieu Nhu Mi. "Your Highness, this is a royal secret recipe I found in an ancient book, it has the effect of nourishing the dragon's body. Father has a hard time every day, and Your Highness serving beside me is even more tiring. This tea may be able to help father and aunt relax both physically and mentally." Lieu Nhu Mi took it and looked for someone to check. Of course, all are premium supplements, without any toxicity. She was overjoyed, feeling that her step-daughter like me finally understood and knew how to please her. Even my father said: "It is difficult for you to have this kind of filial piety." From then on, this "sedative and calming tea" became the tea that my father had to drink every day. This tea is truly a tonic, and is also a great tonic. But it has a characteristic. If used with alcohol and some drugs in the bedroom, it will greatly increase the burden on the heart, silently draining a person's vitality. Warm water slowly boils the frog to death. My father's body gradually deteriorated under the "nutrition" day after day. He began to often feel his heart beating fast, tired, and dizzy. The doctor came to examine him and only said he had worked too hard and needed to rest. Only I know that his internal organs are like a giant tree hollowed out by termites. The outside still looks intact, but just one gentle push will cause it to completely collapse. Half a year later, my father was finally bedridden, unable to get up. Doctors come and go, go and come again. After each examination, he shook his head, prescribed innocuous remedies, and said polite things like "rest well". No one saw the problem. Everyone just assumed that it was a disease the prince left behind from when he was young. Now that he's old, of course he can't stand it anymore. Concubine Lieu kept watch over the hospital bed day and night, preparing and giving medicine herself, crying until her eyes were filled with tears and runny nose. She was truly heartbroken. After all, this man is her sky, the only support for her to act fiercely in the palace. If you fall, she will be nothing anymore. She cried so sincerely that even I almost thought she had some genuine feelings. But it's just that

“almost”. I know what she's afraid of. What she was afraid of was not losing him, but how she would live after losing him. Anyway, she has no children. But in this palace, there is me. His father passed away in early spring. That day it was cold again, outside there were small snowflakes flying down, hitting the window paper, making rustling sounds. In a coal burning room, the heat makes people sleepy. I guarded my father's bedside, holding his thin, dry hand like firewood. He opened his eyes blearily, no longer able to recognize the person. His lips moved several times, emitting vague and unclear sounds. I leaned closer to listen, only to reluctantly recognize a few words: "...Go... call your aunt..." In the last moment, the person he called was Aunt Lieu. It's not my mother's name, nor my name or my sister's name. The woman who killed his wife. I put his hand back in the blanket and stood up, expressionless. Concubine Lieu staggered in, fell down in front of the bed, crying until her heart was torn to pieces: "Master! Master, look at me! Don't go! You're gone, how am I supposed to live!"