Chapter 2 — The Shadow Doesn't Exist

Of course he knew that the hospital had never had anyone live in it. Besides his father, he is the person who understands best in the family that his sister is gone. But every year he puts fresh fruit in his room, and every month he instructs his servants to clean it thoroughly. He is the most loyal supporting character in this play. "Have you really thought it through?" Finally the elder brother opened his mouth, his voice lowered. Still carrying a calm, caring look for others as usual. "What kind of person Tieu Triet is, I'm not sure you know yet." "His two previous fiancees, one died of illness in the second year after their engagement, the other contracted an epidemic on the way to join the army." "Everyone said he was cruel." I interrupted him: "Brother." "When his first fiancee died, Tieu Triet was there." They went to Luong Chau to suppress the rebellion. The two had not seen each other for three years." "The second person was infected with the epidemic because she insisted on following the army. Tieu Triet tried to stop him three times but couldn't." I raised my eyes: "I didn't act out of anger. I chose you." He looked at me bewildered, as if he didn't expect me to say these words. After a long while, he rubbed his eyebrows with force. "...Since I was little, I have been like that. On the outside, I seem slow and gentle, but in my heart, I understand better than anyone." I bowed my head: "I used to think that as long as I was quiet enough, understanding enough, one day everyone would see me." "But later I discovered, it wasn't that everyone didn't see me, but that everyone chose not to look." The brother raised his hand to rub his face, and it took a while for him to feel sad. Annoyed, I said: “……Ninh Nhi, you've changed.” I smiled slightly and didn't answer. He stood up and walked to the door, suddenly turning his head to look at me. In those eyes there was pain, regret, and an extremely faint bit of panic. It's like it wasn't until this moment that he really saw clearly what kind of person the person standing in front of him was. Over the years, he was only busy helping his mother maintain that lie. Forgetting that lie also trapped a living person. "If he really came to ask for his hand." The brother said in a low voice: "I will help you stop the gossip." He walked out of the hospital gate, his steps stopped, then sadly added another sentence. "Ninh Nhi, all these years... it's our fault you." The night wind rushed in, making the plate of cinnamon rolls on the table cold. I sat there, looking at that plate of cake, suddenly feeling extremely tired. This apology comes too late. Every day Ta Quan went to the Co Palace. He said he was coming to visit his father, but every time he sat in the flower hall for a long time. He did not make a fuss, nor did he lose his temper. Just holding a cup of tea in my hand, waiting for my mother to finish chatting before gently asking me if I'm okay today. In the first few days, he even mentioned the things he brought. Letters, breakfast, hand-copied Buddhist scriptures, saying they prayed for me. I refused one after another, he silently took it back, and the next day brought something else. One time, he finally couldn't bear it anymore and said in a low voice: "The words you said that day, I thought about it for a long time after returning." "If I did anything wrong, just point it out." "You and I have known each other for a while, no matter what, you shouldn't not give me a reason." He said very sincerely, his posture lowered extremely low. I looked at him, remembering the regretful look on his face before I died in my previous life, suddenly feeling panicked. Maybe he really couldn't understand. "Ta Quan, whether I marry you or not, has never been based on whether you are good or bad." Ta Quan was stunned. A few days later, he continued to come. Just talk a lot less, sometimes sit for half a watch

now stood up to say goodbye. One time, his mother was telling him the story of learning the piano when he was a child. He listened for a moment, then suddenly asked unintentionally: "Why doesn't the second young lady in the palace come out and sit here for a while?" His mother's smile paused, then she naturally replied: "He's playful, he's already gone out to ride horses." Ta Quan nodded and didn't ask any more. That afternoon, Chien Vuong sent someone to deliver a book of writing cards, along with a message: "That day, Miss Gu said that in the writing there were high mountains, bright moons, green pines and white snow. This king wanted to see with his own eyes." When my brother gave me the writing cards, a worried look appeared between his eyebrows, and he asked in a low voice: "Tieu Triet is a cold and quiet person, have you really thought it through?" I opened the book of writing cards. Above is a transcribed poem written by Tieu Triet himself, his pen strokes as sharp as a knife. But in the closing strokes are hidden three parts of tenderness. I looked at it for a long time and suddenly remembered that in my previous life, Ta Quan also praised my handwriting as beautiful. But he never personally wrote me a response letter. "I've thought about it carefully." I said. That night, mother came to my hospital. She sat under the lamplight, sewing me a fox fur coat. The needle is tight, each stitch is filled with unspeakable love.