Chapter 10 — On the Snowy Night of Bereavement, I Used the Golden Token of Immunity to Overturn the Whole Family

“I want to let your ridiculous deep feelings… turn into a dirty joke, forever unable to raise its head!”

(END OF PART 2) My words became the final blow that defeated Co Canh Minh. It was as if all the bones in his body had been stripped from him, his whole body went limp and he fell to the ground. Those eyes that were once filled with arrogance and stubbornness, now only left a quiet gray-white patch of death. He no longer looked at me, nor did he look at that painting anymore. He just looked at a certain point in the void, his mouth unconsciously repeating the two words over and over again. The sound was so weak that it was like a fading candle swaying in the wind. Pitiful, even sadder. I have lost all interest in tormenting him. A person whose soul is dead, no matter how much he tramples on his body, it no longer has any meaning.

“Let's lock him up.”

I coldly ordered.

“From today onwards, no need to give him food anymore.”

“Live or die, depending on his creation.”

Two soldiers pulled him like a torn bag, dragging him back to the study room that never saw the sun. From then on, that room became his living coffin. I took the scroll and returned to my room. Thanh Hoa lights a candle for us. I placed the scroll on the table and slowly opened it. Under the candlelight, the woman's face in the painting becomes more and more cold and touching. I quietly looked at her. Look at this face, the face that ruined my whole life. If it weren't for her, he wouldn't have forced me to the end because of a ridiculous substitute, pushing our son to death. I hate her. Hating the woman I've never met, but who died a long time ago. But I feel that she is probably also a pitiful person. Being loved by such a stubborn and selfish man, she will not be able to rest in peace until death.

“Thanh Hoa.”

“The slave is here.”

"Go invite me to the capital's best painter to come to the palace."

Thanh Hoa was stunned for a moment, but still respectfully replied "yes", then retreated. The next day, the painter arrived. It was an old man with white hair and beard and an arrogant demeanor. When he saw the painting I presented, a ray of light flashed in his eyes. amazing.

“Good painting, good painting.”

"It's just a pity that the person in the picture has thin fortune and is short-lived."

My heart moved slightly.

“Mr., can you draw another one based on this painting?”

The old painter stroked his beard and nodded.

“Naturally it is possible.”

“I want you to draw exactly the same.”

“No, it must be more beautiful than her, more touching.”

My fingertips gently brushed the eyebrows in the painting.

“I want something more in your eyes.”

“There is one more thing that makes all men crazy about it.”

In the old artist's cloudy eyes, a flash of understanding flashed. He didn't ask further, just nodded.

“Don't worry, ma'am, after three days, I will definitely present the painting.”

The painter left. The days in the palace still passed each day in the silence of death and despair. The Co family's people were completely worn away from every corner. They no longer cried, nor cursed. Only numbness remains, day after day, repeating the hard work without end. Like a bunch of soulless zombies. Their bodies are gradually withering away. Their spirit had already rotted away. That day at noon, I went to the dining room. I saw Co Canh Van and Co Canh Vo, two brothers, getting into a fight over half a moldy dough cake. They tore each other's hair, used their fingernails to scratch each other's faces, drawing blood stains. From his mouth came low roars like those of a wild beast. The people around stood coldly watching. Including their wives and their mothers. In everyone's eyes, only the most primitive desire for food remains. This is exactly what we want to see. This is the outcome they deserve. I withdrew my gaze, turned and left. Phuc Bo followed behind me and said in a low voice:

“Miss, it's been three days.”

“In the study room, there was not a single bit of movement.”

Our steps do not stop.

“Are you dead?”

"Not sure. The guard said, but didn't hear any sound."

“Then let him rot in there.”

My voice doesn't waver at all. When he arrived in front of the moon gate of his courtyard, Phuc Bo spoke again.

“Miss, there is one more thing.”

“The Thai Deputy Palace, has sent someone to bring me to pay my respects.”

My footsteps finally stopped. Thai Pho Palace. Lam Lang's mother's house. What do they mean by sending people at this time? I received that gilded card. The writing on it is delicate yet powerful. The signature part is Mrs. Thai Pho, Lam Thi. She is also Lam Lang's mother and the biological sister of Co Canh Minh's mother. She's my aunt. This name, thinking back now, just feels extremely ironic.

“Did they say what it was for?” I asked Phuc Bo.

Phuc Bo shook his head.

"The person who brought the concubine just said, Mrs. Thai Phu heard that you had a big incident, and was worried and wanted to invite you to the palace for a trip."

Worried in your heart? I laughed coldly.