Chapter 8 — The General's Blind Eyes Mistakenly Recognized the Widow's Door

Hoac Truong Uyen knelt on the cushion and looked up at the ancestral tablet. He remembered the time when he became famous as a young man, and remembered the triumph of spring when the army triumphed. Remembering the big wedding night that could make him rise to the top and make his family famous. Just because he was temporarily blinded by lust, just because of a bit of self-righteous arrogance. He destroyed everything himself.

“I was wrong… I was really wrong…”

In the empty street, only the man's sad and unwilling cry echoed. No one cares about his repentance anymore, no one forgives his stupidity anymore. The punishments of the civil servants in the court, the coldness and coldness of the royal power, the disdainful turning away of the generals who had lived and died with him in the past... and the distance between her and him, as deep as the abyss of heaven and earth, stretched endlessly, as if she could never see the end of it for the rest of her life. All of these things finally completely crushed his last shred of will to survive. Hoo Truong Uyen slowly stood up and pulled out the sword from the weapon rack that had accompanied him to battle in the battlefield in the past. The blade was still as sharp as before, reflecting his haggard, distorted face full of tear streaks. He took one last look at this ruined inheritance, remembered the magnificent carriage on the battlefield that day, and then slowly closed his eyes. Wrist rotates slightly. A cold silver light flashed. The sharp blade accidentally cut off his throat. Fresh blood gushed out, splashing onto the ancestral tablet, and also splashing onto that rusty armor. Hoac Truong Uyen's tall but skinny body fell heavily in the cold dust. He died without closing his eyes, his eyes wide open looking at the leaky roof above. In endless regret and the humiliation of being crushed to the end, the youngest major general of Dai Luong every year finally ended his own wild and tragic life. But in the Poinsettia Palace, thousands of miles away, my husband and I are sitting under the apricot tree, cooking snow and making tea. The cold winter is over. What awaits us ahead will be thousands of miles of clear sky and brilliant blooming flowers. (FULL TEXT)