The room was flooded with sunlight. Jihua stood before the mirror, her hands trembling, her heart beating so fast it seemed ready to burst from her chest.
Her assistant, who had become a close friend, watched the young woman intently, helping with the dress, adjusting the veil. She knew Jihua was anxious; she knew she was thinking of the man she was supposed to wait for, the one who could have changed this day.
"Breathe more steadily, My Lady," the girl said quietly. "Everything will be fine."
But Jihua only nodded, unable to answer. Every glance in the mirror showed her the reflection of the bride she was supposed to be, yet she felt like a prisoner of another's will. She felt herself on the edge: fear, anticipation, and inevitability intertwined into a painful knot inside.
"I… I cannot," she exhaled quietly, almost in a whisper. "How will I be able to smile?"
The assistant gently took her hand, squeezing it in her own palm, as if she could transmit at least a little calm to Jihua through this touch.
"I know, My Lady," she whispered. "But you are strong. You will manage. I am with you."
Silence hung in the room. The dress fit perfectly, the veil fell upon her shoulders, but inside Jihua, a storm still raged.
She knew this day would change her life forever. And while the assistant helped her adjust the final details of her attire, Jihua prayed and hoped that a miracle would happen.
Yunsheng rode into the courtyard of the residence. Servants scurried about, musicians tuned their instruments, guests were arriving. Everything spoke of only one thing.
The wedding had begun.
Yunsheng was stunned; his heart faltered for a moment from the realization, and a void seemed to form in his chest.
He leaped from the horse while it was still moving, tossing the reins to the nearest servant, and took a step forward—and at that moment, he saw Houwei.
He stood by a pillar, his face pale, his gaze heavy.
Their eyes met. A dense and viscous silence hung between them, full of what could not be said aloud.
Yunsheng ran up to his comrade.
"It is you," he finally said, poking a finger into his comrade's chest.
"What are you talking about?"
"You told me the wedding was in five days, but it is today!"
"I did not lie," Houwei began. "It was supposed to be in five days, not now."
"I was sent away. The wedding started early. A coincidence?"
"It wasn't me," Houwei replied.
"Don't," Yunsheng chuckled bitterly.
"Yunsheng, I swear…"
"Oaths are worth nothing," he interrupted. "Only actions matter."
Houwei stepped toward him.
"I spoke not a word to the General."
For some reason, Yunsheng did not believe him. Houwei had seen them, and his strange behavior... Jealousy. He nodded slowly, as if finally convinced of what he had already decided.
"So that is how it is…" he said quietly. "You chose a side."
"I chose you!" Houwei stepped toward him.
Silence hung between them again. But now it was different—heavy and final.
"Do not go in there," Houwei almost whispered. "You will change nothing. You will only destroy everything."
"If I do not go…" he said slowly, "I will destroy myself."
He took a step to the side, intending to pass.
Houwei instinctively grabbed his sleeve.
"Yunsheng!"
In the next second, Yunsheng spun around sharply and struck him in the chest, pushing him back. The blow was not furious, but rather desperate.
Houwei stumbled back a few steps, barely keeping his balance.
"Forgive me…" whispered Yunsheng. "But I will allow no one else to decide for me."
He turned and walked away without looking back.
Houwei watched him go, clenching his fists until they hurt.
"You are mistaken…" he whispered. "But I will still… be for you."
Yunsheng no longer heard this.
Ahead of him awaited Jihua and a destiny he was ready to challenge. And Houwei's heart at that moment already knew how it would all end.
Jihua was already being led to the ceremony hall.
Two handmaidens walked on either side, carefully supporting the hem of the wedding dress. The corridor was decorated with ribbons and lanterns; the air was filled with echoes of music and the muffled voices of guests. She was barely breathing.
And at that moment, Houwei ran out from a side passage.
He stopped right in front of her, breathing heavily. The handmaidens exchanged frightened glances.
"My Lady…" he exhaled. "If you could… leave right now… Would you leave?"
The question sounded too bold and desperate.
Jihua did not even hesitate; she looked him in the eyes and answered confidently:
"Yes."
Houwei pursed his lips; this was exactly the answer he had expected.
"Yunsheng is looking for you," he said. "He has just arrived. Let us go."
The handmaidens were bewildered.
"What are you…" one began.
Houwei turned sharply to them:
"Return to the hall immediately and say that the bride felt faint."
His voice was such that they dared not object. The girls exchanged glances and hurriedly ran off.
The corridor emptied; they looked into each other's eyes, saw determination, and ran.
The fabric of the dress rustled, breath came in gasps, footsteps echoed down the corridor. They turned toward the garden exit when shouts rang out from behind:
"Stop! There!"
"Seize them!"
Houwei turned sharply:
"Faster!"
They ran out into the garden. The bright midday sun reflected off the white stone of the paths, blinding the eyes, highlighting every movement, every step. No shade, no protection, only the greenery of neatly trimmed bushes and tall trees under which one could not hide.
Jihua ran, gasping for air. The wedding dress was too heavy for flight—layers of fabric pulled her down, tangled in her legs, but she did not let go of the hem, did not allow herself to stop. Blood pounded in her ears; the world narrowed to the alley ahead.
Houwei ran beside her, teeth gritted. He did not look back; they knew they were being pursued.
"Faster," he said hollowly. "Just a little more."
Voices rang out from behind, very close; they were catching up.
Sunlight glinted on the blades of swords.
Houwei abruptly turned off the path and pulled the girl with him, toward the thick bushes. They stopped when it became clear that running further together was impossible.
He turned to her.
"Listen to me carefully," he said quickly but calmly. "From here, you go alone. Straight along this path, to the stone arch. There is a horse there. I will delay them."
"No," she clung to his sleeve. "You cannot stay here."
"If I do not stay," he gently but firmly removed her hand, "they will catch us both."
He drew his sword. Under the sun, the steel was blindingly bright.
"Yunsheng will find you," he said quietly.
Her eyes filled with tears. She looked at the young man before her, whom she did not know at all, yet he was risking his life to give her a chance at a happy life. And in this gaze, she tried to memorize him, as a sign of gratitude. If before she had caught his displeased, even contemptuous glances, now he looked at her quite differently. And most of all, she remembered the pain. Not the kind that foresees imminent death, but the kind one carries for years deep in the soul.
"You will perish…" her voice sounded hoarse and quiet.
Houwei chuckled—briefly, joylessly.
"Perhaps. But at least not in vain. I want happiness for my friend."
He took a step forward, assuming a defensive stance, preparing to protect the girl—and at that moment, Jihua saw Yunsheng.
He ran out from around the corner of the alley—disheveled, breathless, sword in hand. His gaze darted about and suddenly stopped.
The world seemed to freeze.
Houwei stood preparing to defend against the advancing guards. And behind him—Jihua.
"Houwei…" Yunsheng exhaled, unable to believe his eyes.
Houwei turned around. Their eyes met—and in that instant, there remained no anger, no grievances, no words they hadn't had time to say.
"Get her out of here," shouted Houwei. "Run!"
The guards moved forward; the air around became as if denser and heavier. He positioned himself to completely block the path the girl had taken. He would not let them pass, would not let them hinder Yunsheng.
Yunsheng ran through the garden, holding Jihua's hand. His heart hammered; adrenaline scorched his entire body. Their path lay toward the side gate, where the horse was tethered. Every moment the road seemed endless, and the sound of the guards' footsteps grew louder behind them.
"Just a little more!" he whispered to her, feeling her hand tremble in his palm.
"Yes!" she answered, almost inaudibly, but enough for him to understand she trusted him completely.
But then a group of guards sprang out. Yunsheng immediately stepped between them and Jihua, drawing his sword. One of the guards swung, another tried to grab her arm—Yunsheng knocked one back with a blow, parried the other from the side.
"Stay away from her!" he screamed, trying to keep them at a distance. "Not a step closer!"
Yunsheng immediately assumed a defensive position. He was focused, cold, and resolute. He felt Jihua nearby—she stood behind his back, her breathing rapid, her heart beating in unison with his own.
One of the guards took a step closer, extending a hand to graze his shoulder. Yunsheng jerked sharply to the side, dodging. In the fight, his movements were fluid. The first strike of the sword reflected the lunge of one guard, the second parried the attack of another, the third—deftly knocked an opponent off his feet, causing metal armor to clang against stone.
The guards quickly recovered; Yunsheng gritted his teeth: protecting Jihua was all that mattered now.
He made a sharp lunge, striking the nearest one, but the man leaped back, twisting away, and lunged again. Yunsheng deftly parried the blow, feeling the other sword bounce off his. Sparks flashed in the sun.
At that moment, a guard on the other side tried to grab Jihua, but Yunsheng cast a glance at her, and in that same moment, his reaction was lightning fast: he jumped forward, blocking the path, knocked the enemy back with his elbow, while another struck from above—Yunsheng ducked, and the blow grazed his shoulder.
The man fought with all his might; he felt that the slightest mistake could turn into a tragedy for both of them. The fear that sat deep inside began begging to break out. He remembered it as if it were yesterday. He could not let it happen again. But there were too many opponents. Now the task was not just to escape, but to defend.
His body already burned with fatigue, but his blood boiled with anger and despair. And suddenly, over the noise of the battle, a calm, cold, imperious voice rang out:
"Enough."
The Governor General stepped onto the path.
He walked unhurriedly, as if the proceedings amused him. His face was motionless, but lights played in his eyes.
Yunsheng was seized immediately by several guards; they held him by his shoulders and arms. His heart clenched, and an endless stream of panic and despair rose within him—he was not strong enough against a crowd of guards.
Meanwhile, other guards, giving Jihua no chance to break free, led her to the General. She tried desperately to fight, to pull away, but hands held her firmly from all sides. Her heart beat so hard it seemed everyone around would hear, but no one could help her—Yunsheng was too far from controlling the situation.
The General stood motionless, with a vile smile on his face. He watched attentively as the girl was brought to him. His gaze was cold-blooded and commanding; it expressed enjoyment of the situation.
"On your knees," the General ordered. One of the guards approached and kicked his legs out from under him; the others holding him helped, and Yunsheng fell to his knees, though every cell of his body resisted.
Jihua looked at Yunsheng, her eyes full of hatred for the General and fear for Yunsheng.
"So you returned after all, Commander. Quick, however," said the General with a smirk, looking them both over.
Yunsheng was silent, not taking his eyes off the girl.
"Tell me," continued the General, leaning closer, "did you really intend to stop this wedding? Did you think you could ruin everything just by showing up?"
Jihua tried to break free, but the guards held her by both arms. She looked at Yunsheng.
Yunsheng clenched his teeth, internally cursing himself for everything that had happened, but he could not let the General see weakness. He just looked at him.
"It seems," continued the General, "you take too many liberties. Decided to covet what is mine?"
He took a step closer, and the guards dragged Jihua right to him, so she ended up next to him. The General leaned toward her, his cold gaze sweeping her from head to toe:
"And you? Dared to follow him. Do you think I will simply allow this to happen? Your life is worth nothing to me, but this escape..."
Yunsheng tensed.
"You are mistaken, General," said Yunsheng, his voice firm, though everything inside burned with anger and pain. "No one will stop us. Neither you nor your soldiers."
The General merely chuckled, as if enjoying the challenge. His hand gripped a dagger; the guards drew closer, threateningly.
"Hmm… words will not suffice," he said. "But let us see how long your courage lasts, fool."
And then the guards dragged someone in, holding him by the arms. It was Houwei. Yunsheng jerked forward, toward him, but a rough yank back did not allow him to approach his friend. The man was wounded, exhausted. And then the General approached him and pierced him with the dagger. Houwei wheezed, fell; he looked at Yunsheng and barely audibly uttered:
"Forgive me… I tried to help," he coughed hoarsely with blood. "I did not betray you, believe me."
Yunsheng clenched his fists in rage and stared at Houwei's body lying before him.
The sun shone just as brightly as a minute ago. Leaves rustled. Somewhere deep in the garden, birds chirped. The world had not changed, but Yunsheng had changed.
"Get up…" escaped him hoarsely. "Get up. Houwei!" he tried to break free again, but a guard shoved him roughly backward. Yunsheng did not even feel the blow; he felt only the emptiness spreading inside. He suddenly remembered everything clearly at once.
He remembered how he struck him. How he looked at him with hatred. How he didn't believe him. How he suspected him of betrayal.
His throat tightened so that it became impossible to breathe. Houwei lay still; there was no breath left.
Yunsheng suddenly felt clearly that he was left alone. Not just without a friend—without the one who always stood nearby, who could always watch his back. He had lost not just a friend, but a cherished person.
His gaze darted to Jihua.
She stood pale, motionless, and in her eyes was the reflection of everything that had happened.
Houwei had led her out. He gave them a chance. He knew for certain he would perish, but he went through with it anyway. For the sake of a friend. And in that moment, he realized one more thing: if he survived, if there was another life, he would live with this. With the memory of a friend who gave the most valuable thing for him—his life. And with the guilt that could never be washed away. Yunsheng closed his eyes. And in that short moment, something broke inside him.
"Well? Still feeling brave?" a vile smirk shone on the General's face.
Yunsheng burned him with his gaze.
Jihua looked at Yunsheng; their eyes met. Without words, they understood everything: the forces were unequal. The girl's heart pounded, but fear mixed with resolve. She clenched her fists, trying to remain calm, but her breathing was ragged.
"So here you are," the General said coldly, addressing the girl now and stepping toward her. "Do you think you can change your destiny by running away?"
"I am not running from destiny," Jihua replied. "You cannot dispose of my life!"
The General chuckled, leaning a little closer. "And yet you are here, under my control. Everything that was your choice now belongs to me."
Yunsheng clenched his fists. His gaze constantly switched between the General and Jihua—he couldn't look at her without pain, but couldn't move either.
"Why are you so stubborn, girl?" continued the General.
"I…" Jihua froze, then exhaled and said firmly: "Because I know what is right. You may hold my body, but not my soul."
The General frowned, and malice flashed in his eyes.
"You are too presumptuous to understand the price of freedom. And he…" the General glanced at Yunsheng, "he is here. You are both here in my power; what freedom do you both speak of?"
Yunsheng felt the blood freeze in his veins. Every word of the General cut him from the inside. His heart was tearing apart—he could neither strike, nor protect her, nor tear her from the hands of the guard.
"I…" Jihua tensed, but still held on, "I am not afraid. I would rather die than live a life not my own."
The General approached her, and Yunsheng sensed a sinister darkness in his eyes.
"We shall see," the General said quietly, leaning almost right into her face, "how long you can stand your ground."
Yunsheng gritted his teeth, his eyes filled with fury, but he could not act. He saw Jihua tense up, how she held her head high despite the fear, and this gave him strength. Words, gestures, glances—everything became a weapon with which they fought together, despite physical powerlessness.
"You will not break me," Jihua said barely audibly, and Yunsheng felt fire run through his veins at these words.
The General smirked, but froze for a moment. He saw their mutual connection—silent, unshakable, despite the hopelessness of the situation. And this finally enraged him.
The General approached the girl; his cold gaze pierced through. He leaned toward her, whispered something Yunsheng did not catch, and suddenly, without giving a second for realization, struck a blow. Yunsheng saw it without time to react.
"No!" burst from the young man's chest, but it was nothing in the merciless palace courtyard.
Jihua fell to her knees. Yunsheng tried to break free from the guards' hands; every muscle burned. But the arms clenched around him held tight, allowing no movement.
The General repeated the blow without the slightest pity, and Yunsheng saw the life leave her. Her body slowly descended, and her face was still turned to him. At that moment, something unimaginable seemed to explode inside Yunsheng: fear, guilt, powerlessness, rage—everything mixed into a wild storm of emotions.
He tried to scream, tried to thrash, tearing at the guards' arms, but understood the terrible truth: he had failed to protect her. Again. His heart clenched as if he himself had been torn open and twisted into a knot.
"Jihua… Athit…" he whispered, barely discernibly.
Yunsheng felt his entire being tearing apart inside, everything he had built collapsing: hope, the desire to protect. He saw her smile in the last moment, that trusting, quiet joy, and it became a blow.
He saw her body fall to the ground. And Yunsheng's world stopped instantly. Everything around became gray, sound vanished, only the frantic, deafening beating of his heart filled his head. He realized he had lost everything that was real, important, alive to him.
And in this horror and emptiness, he felt simultaneously despair, rage, and a vow born in his heart: never again would anyone take what he loves, even if the world is against him.
Yunsheng remained on his knees, trembling. The General looked down at him, satisfied with his victory.
Yunsheng's heart beat so hard it seemed it would burst from his chest, and his mind refused to accept reality. Houwei was dead, and Yunsheng had seen it with his own eyes, saw how he tried to hold on to the last for both of them. He saw how his friend led Jihua out, how he protected her, and understood: everything Houwei did was for him, for his sake. And all of it—in vain.
Memories of his past life, of Athit's death, flashed in Yunsheng's head again and again. Every detail, every pain and loss flared up with doubled force: to see the beloved person dying before his eyes again, to feel powerlessness again, to lose the one who was dear to his heart again. His heart clenched in pain, guilt constricted his throat, eyes filled with bitter tears he could not shed.
He felt a mixture of anger, helplessness, and despair. Anger—at the General, at the whole world that disposed of lives so cruelly, at fate, which seemed to be playing a cruel joke on him. Helplessness—for he could not protect Houwei, could not stop the General, could not save Jihua. And despair—because again the feeling of loss pierced him through like a knife: again the death of a close person, now two, again the betrayal of fate, another tragedy he could not prevent.
And this pain, this grief, this fear—all became fuel for him, a source of strength, however contradictory it sounded. Yunsheng raised his head, clenching his teeth, clenching his fists, and knew: he would break out of this hell and ensure their sacrifices were not in vain.
He did not know where so much strength suddenly appeared in him or why it hadn't appeared minutes earlier. Yunsheng broke free from the firm grip; he did not feel the pain of his wounds; he saw only the target. Time began to flow slowly. He snatched a sword from one of the guards holding him and in a fraction of a second was beside the General. The sword entered smoothly, deep, into the very heart. None of those around had time to react, as if a second flew by for everyone, but for him alone, this second stretched into minutes.
In the next instant, Yunsheng's body went limp. He felt the cold earth touch his cheek, sharp pain pierced his body in several places, and incredible weariness took possession of him. His whole body became so heavy he could not move. The last thing he saw before his eyelids turned to lead was Jihua's face.
The man relaxed. There was no one left to resist, and no one to resist for.
Jihua was dead.
Houwei—too.
The world had not just collapsed; it had emptied.
He heard no voices around, saw no faces. Everything merged into a dull ringing, as if he were underwater. Before his eyes, the same image rose again and again: Jihua, still alive, still looking at him. Somewhere nearby, he saw Houwei.
Again. He was late again. Again he did not protect.
It did not hurt in his chest—there was simply nothing left there. No rage, no fear. Only fatigue, so deep, as if he had lived not a second life, but dozens.
He suddenly realized he no longer wanted to fight this world. And no longer wanted to remain in it.
The last thing he sensed was neither cold nor darkness,
but a feeling as if he were letting go of what he had held onto for too long.
And silence finally accepted him.