The day I died was the day my betrothed celebrated his wedding.
In a ruined temple on the outskirts of the city, blood poured from my eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. I lay collapsed over a prayer mat, weeping before the long-dust-covered statue of Guanyin.
In this life, this humble believer had never wronged Heaven or Earth. So why had I ended up betrayed and abandoned by everyone?
Guanyin did not answer. She only gazed down at me with compassion.
Outside the door came the hurried thunder of hooves. Someone, carrying the chill of the night on his shoulders, was walking toward me.
My eyes could no longer see. I could only turn uselessly in his direction and beg in a hoarse voice,
“Whoever you are, please… give me a proper burial. In my next life, I will repay you.”
Trembling, he gathered me into his arms. A single scalding tear fell onto the center of my brow.
On the night of the first snow, the cold was bitter.
The young granddaughter, cherished like a pearl in the palm of the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor, died in the wilderness at the age of sixteen.
