Whispers of Fate (Shui Long Yin)

"Ugh... cough... cough, cough..."

Yu Tuan'er brought another basin of hot water, while A Shui sat by the bed supporting Tang Lici, who was vomiting incessantly. Drenched in cold sweat, he had been vomiting ever since he had driven A Shui out earlier—first food and water, then gradually even blood, until there was nothing left to vomit, yet the dry heaving wouldn't stop. Yu Tuan'er had broken in upon realizing something was wrong, but by then, Tang Lici could no longer speak. Aside from retching and coughing, he hadn't uttered a single word. A Shui kept wiping him with a hot towel, yet his clothes were quickly soaked through again by the cold sweat. The winter air was frigid, and his skin felt terrifyingly icy to the touch, as though the person beneath the clothes had no warmth left at all.

"What's... what's wrong with him? He won't die, will he?" Yu Tuan'er asked A Shui in a hushed, fearful voice. A Shui silently continued wiping him down. Wasn't she the one who had been threatened and hurt? Why did this perpetrator of violence and cruelty look more like the victim than she did? He seemed more like... the one on the verge of death. He... he...

What exactly... did he want from her to stop his suffering? Was it because she refused to obey, refused to love him willingly and wholeheartedly, refused to die for him, that he had ended up like this? Her eyes stung with unshed tears. How could anyone be so domineering, so insane, so selfish, so cruel? And yet... he was also so fragile and desperate, impossible to simply walk away from...

Like a child... desperately vying for the attention of someone they adored—so desperate, so delusional, so shy yet so pitifully humble, as though rejection would shatter them completely.

A Shui's tears welled up. You... you're so fragile, but what hurts the most isn't your fragility—it's that the person whose attention you crave isn't me at all.

Right? Whose care do you truly want? Whose love—the kind that would "die for you"—do you long for?

I don't think it's me.

A Shui's tears trailed down her cheeks. I don't dare love you, because you could never love me back. Yet every time you hurt me, why do I still feel heartbroken and disappointed? No matter how clearly I think it through, the disappointment always lingers. I suppose... it's because I see how well you treat others, how you protect them, yet you choose to hurt only me. It feels... unbearably unfair.

Her gaze softened as she looked at Tang Lici, changing the towel in the basin. Whose substitute have you made me? Who wronged you, who failed to cherish and dote on you, leaving you so heartbroken and disillusioned?

She felt... she had brushed against the void in Tang Lici's heart. Only... she couldn't save him.

"A Shui-jie! Feel here—there's something strange about him." Yu Tuan'er was tugging at Tang Lici's clothes to change him into a clean inner robe when she pressed against his abdomen and felt something unusual, slightly harder than normal. A Shui reached out and lightly pressed the spot—a lump about the size of a fist. When she applied more pressure, Tang Lici's brows furrowed, and another wave of cold sweat broke out over his body. Though he remained silent, it must have been excruciating.This was the lump she had glimpsed earlier, the one that didn't seem like a human heart. After pondering for a long while, she asked Yu Tuan'er to leave and closed the door. She undid Tang Lici's clothing—his skin was smooth and delicate, but his exposed flesh bore many scars. There were two relatively fresh wounds and numerous old ones of unknown origin. After removing his garments, she pressed gently; the lump was buried deep within his abdomen. Tang Lici lay with his clothes half undone, his silver-gray hair cascading around him. As a martial artist, his body was lean and muscular, with not an ounce of excess fat. Perhaps exhausted from vomiting, he remained motionless, allowing her to tend to him, his eyelashes occasionally fluttering faintly without opening.

She wiped the cold sweat from his body, changed him into clean undergarments, and sat silently by the bed, watching him for a long while. Countless thoughts swirled through her mind, leaving her indescribably weary and lost. "Young Master Tang," she murmured, "the heart buried in your abdomen... may have undergone some change." Tang Lici lay still with closed eyes, as though he hadn't heard. She continued, "It... might be more terrifying than Brother Shen's knife wound."

Tang Lici remained motionless, but she knew he wasn't unconscious. After waiting a while with no response, she softened her voice and asked, "What's wrong? Are you in great pain?" Mustering her courage, she raised her hand and gently placed it on Tang Lici's head, slowly stroking his gray hair.

Tang Lici's right hand twitched slightly. She paused as she watched his fingers spread and clutch tightly at her sleeve. His eyes remained shut, but his grip was firm, the veins on his pale hand standing out as though he were pouring all his remaining strength into that grasp—as though if he didn't hold onto something, he would die immediately.

She said nothing more, sitting quietly beside him.

The sky gradually darkened. The evening sunlight crept through the window, casting its glow on her pale green embroidered shoes, where the threads shimmered with a soft, aged luster.

Night slowly fell, and the room grew darker until their faces became indistinct in the gloom.

Tang Lici still clung tightly to her sleeve. She listened as his breathing suddenly grew rapid, the erratic gasps persisting for some time. "Why isn't it beating?" he asked.

His words made no sense to her. "What... isn't beating?"

His breathing grew more frantic and agitated. "Why isn't it beating...?" A Shui stared at him blankly, unsure what he meant. His grip tightened further. "So strange... so strange..."

He repeated "so strange" over and over. She didn't understand what he found strange, but slowly, she raised her hand again and gently rested it on his head. As she stroked his hair a second time, she felt even more afraid than before. Yet if she didn't do something... perhaps... he would break completely.How strange... Why do things that never seemed like they would change always end up changing? The things I believed in were already so few, yet they always... always... turn bad or disappear... Tang Lici clutched A Shui's sleeve tightly with his right hand and raised his left to press against his eyes. Why didn’t they love him? He was their own flesh and blood... yet they always wished he had never existed... Why was Fu Zhumei better? He never thought so, still doesn’t... Why did A-Yan have to turn bad... Why did Fang Zhou have to die... Why did Chi Yun have to die...

How strange... Why did even Fang Zhou’s heart stop beating?

He had tried so desperately, done everything he could... Why hadn’t he been able to hold onto anything?

A warm hand rested on his forehead, and he didn’t pull away.

“I... think... I’ll never truly understand what’s on your mind, will I?” A Shui murmured softly. “In fact, I often feel like I’m just one step away from understanding you, but that step always remains so very, very far. You say it’s strange—what exactly are you finding strange?” Her hand slowly withdrew from his long hair. “I often wonder too—what does it mean to have innate charm, and how does it attract people? Why do men I don’t even know always seem to like me... I’ve never wanted it, never at all, and it frightens me, but no one has ever cared to know what I think. Many say they love me, yet they can’t even explain what it is they find good about me. Some have gone bankrupt for me, abandoned their wives and children, even died for me... yet they still treated me as nothing more than a slave. If all they wanted was a slave, what difference would it make whether it was me or someone else?” She sighed faintly. “It all feels so hollow. Everything that’s happened over the years has left me exhausted, but no matter how many people I meet, no matter how kind some of them are to me... still, no one has ever wanted to know how I truly feel inside.” As she spoke, she unconsciously ran her fingers lightly through Tang Lici’s hair again. “Is it because I appear too composed? I feel like I shouldn’t complain—perhaps the ones who suffer most are the men bewitched by this face of mine. They’ve given their all for me, even their lives. I owe them, so I can’t voice my grievances. I should try my best to be good to them, to keep them from feeling angry or disappointed...” Her voice trailed off, and after a long pause, she continued slowly, “I keep taking care of people—whoever I meet, I look after them... But in the eyes of men, I was first a servant, and then I became a whore.”