Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
The Flower of the Other Shore
墨書 Inktalez
Chapter One
I never imagined I would look back on my life in such a way.
In the eerie hall of the underworld, a decaying scent enveloped me. I gazed at the familiar name on the Book of Life and Death—Lin Wan'er, the spoiled young lady, the pitiful soul consumed by love. That person is me.
"Eighteen years of time, a misguided love, and lives taken," the King of Hell's voice echoed through the hall. "Lin Wan'er, do you acknowledge your sins?"
I forced a bitter smile and lowered my head as memories surged like a tide. I recalled the girl clad in fine silk and jewels, standing in the courtyard of a wealthy family, her gaze unconsciously drifting towards the Wang family's direction.
I was sixteen that year, my father the richest man in town, and my mother cherished me like a precious gem. Yet my heart could only hold onto Wang Ziming, the young master of the Wang family.
"Miss, look at this beautiful butterfly!" The voice of my maid, Xiao Cui, interrupted my thoughts. She held up a colorful butterfly fluttering its wings, presenting it to me like a treasure.
But I had no interest in admiring it; my gaze remained fixed on the Wang family’s estate. That high wall separated him from me.
"Xiao Cui, do you think Young Master Wang is doing right now?" I asked softly, a hint of unnoticeable longing in my tone.
Xiao Cui blinked, seemingly hesitant. "Miss, you’re thinking about Young Master Wang again. If the master and mistress find out, they won’t be pleased."
I sighed; indeed, how could my parents allow me to have feelings for him?
The Wang family was also well-off, but in my parents' eyes, our families were always mismatched. Moreover, everyone in town knew about my headstrong and willful nature. It was likely that even matchmakers wouldn’t dare step foot into my home.
Yet I had fallen for Wang Ziming. Perhaps it was his gentle demeanor or those eyes that always sparkled with kindness—or maybe it was simply because he was Wang Ziming.
I often stood secretly by the wall of our courtyard, listening to his voice as he read aloud; it was like a spring breeze gently brushing against my heart. Sometimes he would practice swordplay in his yard; the flashing blade illuminated his handsome face, leaving me entranced.
“Wan'er, what are you daydreaming about again?” My mother’s voice came from behind me, and I hurriedly withdrew my gaze.
“Nothing, Mother.” I feigned calmness as I adjusted my dress, but my heart raced uncontrollably.
My mother walked over to my side and sighed softly. “I know about you and Ziming. But his family has strict rules, and with your temperament…”
I stubbornly interrupted her, “I can change, Mother. I really can.” For him, I would change anything, even the bad temper I had developed over the years.
My mother shook her head helplessly. “Silly child, matters of the heart aren’t so simple. Besides, your father has already found a good match for you…”
“I don’t want it!” I shouted. “I won’t marry anyone; I only like Brother Wang!”
My mother was taken aback by my reaction. She hugged me tightly, trying to soothe my emotions. “Wan'er, calm down! You can’t be so willful about this!”
I broke free from her embrace, tears streaming down my face. “Why? Why do you always try to stop me? I just want to be with him; is that so wrong?”
A flicker of pain crossed my mother’s eyes but was quickly replaced by determination. “Wan'er, you’re still young and don’t understand. When you grow up, you’ll realize your parents’ concerns.”
But it was too late for that. That winter, the Wang family betrothed Ziming to a young lady from the Bureau Chief’s family in the east of the city. I locked myself in my room for three days and nights, crying without eating or drinking, ignoring anyone who tried to persuade me.
Until I heard that Ziming had come to see me.
I bolted upright from my bed, disregarding my appearance, and rushed out with my hair disheveled.
“Wan'er, I’m sorry.” He stood in my family’s garden, his figure looking particularly thin under the moonlight. The moonlight that night was beautiful yet desolate, heartbreakingly lovely. He stood there in that patch of light, his slender silhouette resembling a watercolor painting, but a faint layer of sadness enveloped his brow.
“You don’t need to apologize,” I said through gritted teeth, holding back my tears. “I know this isn’t your choice.”
He remained silent for a long time before finally turning to leave. I watched his retreating figure, my heart aching like a knife. In that moment, I swore to myself that if I could not have him, I would not allow anyone else to be happy.
In an effort to help me emerge from the shadows, my parents arranged for me to marry a gentle husband, young master Zhao. He was frail and sickly, with a mild temperament, always compliant with my wishes. Yet my heart had long since died; I went through each day mechanically, secretly seeking news of the Wang family. young master Zhao treated me exceptionally well, accommodating my every whim without ever opposing me. But deep down, I knew that the more he did so, the more I suffered. I could not forget Wang Ziming, even though he had married someone else and become another's husband.
I began to torment myself further and also tortured young master Zhao. I often spoke coldly to him and even deliberately picked fights. He always endured silently, never retorting.
"Madam, why must you do this?" the steward of the Zhao residence, uncle Li, advised me more than once. "The young master is sincere towards you; can't you..."
"Enough!" I snapped at him sharply. "My affairs are none of your business!"
uncle Li sighed, shook his head, and turned to leave.
Watching his back as he walked away filled me with agitation. I didn’t know what I was doing; all I knew was that I could not allow Wang Ziming to be at peace.
Until that day when I heard that Wang Ziming had a son.
"Young Madam, are you alright?" the maid Xiao Cui asked anxiously as she looked at the shattered teacup on the floor, tea splattered everywhere, shards digging into my palm without me feeling a thing.
I forced a smile. "I'm fine; it was just an accident."
That night, I made a decision. Since I was destined not to have complete love, then he must not have complete happiness either. Restless and unable to sleep, images of Wang Ziming holding his child with a beaming smile flooded my mind. That image pierced my heart like a sharp blade.
I began to plot in secret, exploiting the greed of the Royal Wet Nurse by tampering with the child's medicine. A little bit of slow-acting poison—colorless and tasteless—was enough to gradually weaken a young child. It was a poison difficult to detect and required prolonged use before it would take effect. I bribed the Wang family's nanny to add a small amount to the child's soup daily.
At first, the nanny was reluctant but agreed after I promised her a substantial sum. I knew she had a child around the same age as Wang Family Young Master and needed the money.
"This must remain between us," I said coldly as I handed her a pouch of silver coins. "If word gets out, you know what will happen."
The nanny took the silver, weighed it in her hand, and a greedy smile crept across her face. "Don't worry, young lady. This old woman's lips are sealed tight."
Watching the young master of the Wang family grow increasingly gaunt filled me with both pain and satisfaction. Wang Ziming, this is the price you pay for abandoning me. Every day, I would "stroll" near the Wang residence, a ruse to clear my mind, but in reality, I was there to gather information. Each time I saw Wang Ziming holding his sickly son, his face etched with anxiety and worry, a wave of vindictive pleasure surged within me.
However, on the night when the poison was about to take effect, I dreamt of that child. His innocent eyes jolted me awake, drenched in cold sweat. In my dream, the child looked at me with his clear, innocent eyes and called out, "Auntie, Auntie..." His voice was so tender and naive, like a small hammer tapping rhythmically against my heart.
I sat up abruptly in bed, gasping for air. Outside the window, the night was deep and dark, with only a few cold stars flickering faintly.
Trembling, I got up, desperate to stop everything. But when I reached the Wang residence, all I heard was a chorus of wailing. Without thinking twice, I rushed through the gates like a madwoman. Pushing through the crowd, I saw Wang Ziming kneeling on the ground, tightly clutching a lifeless child in his arms. His face was drenched in tears, his gaze hollow and despairing.
"The young master is gone..."
I stood in a corner watching Ziming weep over his son's body. In that moment, I finally understood that I had not only destroyed an innocent life but also ruined my own. The cries and curses around me intertwined like a massive net that ensnared me completely. I felt suffocated as if something were choking my throat, preventing me from breathing.
From that day forward, nightmares plagued me relentlessly. The child always appeared in my dreams, looking at me with his pure eyes. I frantically sought out doctors for remedies but could never find peace in sleep again. I consulted every physician in town and tried every calming medication available but could not escape that nightmare. Each night as soon as I closed my eyes, the child's figure would materialize before me, gazing at me with those clear eyes as if questioning why I had caused his death.
Until today, I finally realized those nightmares were merely my conscience's condemnation. Now standing before the King of Hell, I could finally confront my sins.
"Take her away and cast her into the Eighteen Layers of Hell," came the King's decree.
I closed my eyes as silent tears streamed down my cheeks. Ziming, forgive me. The obsessions of this life will be repaid with eternal suffering in the next.
Comment 0 Comment Count