Chapter 47

The physician responsible for taking care of Han Nu only came for three days before refusing to return to the mountain. In his eyes, Han Nu was as good as dead, barely clinging to life with her last breath.

What could he possibly do to save her?

Even feeding her ginseng every day would only prolong her suffering—it would be better for her to die sooner and find relief.

Inside the dilapidated wooden hut, Han Nu lay on the bed, struggling in her final moments, her blood soaking through the bedding.

The sight was so brutal that Tanyin could no longer bear to watch.

She drifted out of the hut and stayed outside for a long, long time.

The sunlight outside was bright, and the sky was clear and blue. The heavy rain on the day of the execution had come and gone swiftly, as if it had fallen solely to extinguish the flames that were burning Han Nu.

After that event, although people still feared the “witch,” no one dared to openly curse her anymore, and the subject was avoided altogether in daily conversation.

Tanyin suddenly remembered that the Lake Princess had once said that becoming a god involved three tribulations: heaven, earth, and human. All of the gods and goddesses had gone through the tribulations of heaven and earth. For Tanyin, the heavenly tribulation was the destruction of the Ji family, while the earthly tribulation was her inability to find peace after death, wandering in the mortal realm for hundreds of years.

The human tribulation was the hardest of all—the trial of becoming a primordial god. Many gods had perished in the human tribulation, their souls scattered, and to this day, there were no primordial gods left in the divine realm—an undeniable decline.

Han Nu’s heavenly tribulation was her extraordinary powers from birth, which led to a life of drifting and suffering, never once showing a smile. Her earthly tribulation was this cruel execution by fire, leaving her unable to live or die, enduring unbearable pain in her final days as a mortal.

But why was ‘she’ Han Nu’s human tribulation? Han Nu had already fallen into demonic paths.

Even if she overcame her human tribulation, could she really transform into a primordial goddess?

No one could answer her questions.

It was only five days later that Ah Chu finally returned to the mountain to visit her sister. Tanyin had long seen her nervously making her way up the hill.

She was wearing a new silk dress, with a small white flower pinned to her hair—so different from her usual ragged and timid appearance.

The expression on her face was strange: a mix of fear, worry, terror, and confusion.

She stood at the broken window, seemingly too afraid to go inside, peeking cautiously through a crack.

Whatever she saw inside must not have been pleasant, as she let out a sharp scream and stumbled backward, knocking over the bucket by the window, making a loud noise.

Ah Chu covered her mouth and turned to flee, but a hoarse, rough voice suddenly called from inside the hut, “Ah Chu… Is that you, Ah Chu?”

Ah Chu hesitated for a long time before finally biting her lip and pushing open the wooden door, walking in slowly.

Lying on the bed was a terrifying figure, blackened and red from burns, with a stench of decay and blood that was nauseating.

Ah Chu hovered at the doorway, whispering, “Sister…”

Because of her burns, Han Nu’s voice had changed completely.

Her breaths were weak and short, but she seemed to be smiling, a relieved smile. “Where… did you go? Are you home now?”

Ah Chu’s expression changed slightly, and her eyes reddened with sudden tears.

After a moment, she choked out, “I—I’m back… Sister, I was wrong… I was wrong… How are you? Does it hurt?”

Han Nu softly replied, “Don’t be afraid, it doesn’t hurt at all. Ah Chu, come closer. Let me look at you.”

Very slowly, Ah Chu approached the terrifying bed.

Han Nu’s clouded eyes stared at her for a while before she said gently, “My eyes aren’t working well. I can’t see clearly. Come a bit closer.”

Ah Chu hesitated, unwilling to come any closer.

Han Nu seemed to realize something and smile.

“I must look scary, don’t I? Did I frighten you? Ah Chu, where have you been these past few days?”

Suddenly, tears gushed from Ah Chu’s eyes, and she began to sob uncontrollably.

She rushed to the bedside, ignoring the bloodstained and filthy bedding, and cried bitterly, “Sister! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault!”

Han Nu gently consoled her, but then Ah Chu said, “I… I’ve been staying with Brother Anping these days. Sister… I’m sorry, I married him…”

Han Nu let out a faint sigh, as if she had long expected this outcome.

In a low voice, she said, “As long as he treats you well, it’s all right. Ah Chu, bring me the needle and thread.”

Ah Chu wiped her tears, confused.

“You’re like this… You shouldn’t move. Just rest…”

“It’s all right. Bring it to me.”

Ah Chu had no choice but to bring over the sewing box and place it by her sister’s side.

Han Nu’s blackened, charred hand struggled to pick up an embroidery needle, but she couldn’t thread it.

Ah Chu had to help her.

“I don’t think I’ll live much longer,” Han Nu said softly.

“Don’t cry. Our family is poor. I can’t give you a proper dowry. I’ll embroider you something beautiful, something you can keep at the bottom of your chest. Maybe in a few years, you can sell it for some silver…”

Ah Chu sobbed so hard she couldn’t speak.

“I’ll embroider you a beautiful house… If only that house could become real,” Han Nu smiled faintly.

As she made her first stitch, several drops of blood fell onto the white silk.

She never managed to finish that final embroidery.

The day after Ah Chu returned, Han Nu succumbed to the last painful moments of her life, passing away unwillingly.

Her spirit was summoned to the divine realm, where she was granted the title of goddess after her death.

That unfinished embroidery became her final regret as a mortal.

Now, she could create anything with a stitch—gold, jewels, houses—anything of wealth and luxury from the mortal world, all would appear under her needle.

But she would never see Ah Chu again.

“This is so beautiful, did you embroider this?”

Tanyin suddenly heard her own voice.

She turned around and saw herself from over five thousand years ago, in her form as a goddess, wearing white with black hair, her face youthful yet her gaze cold.

There was a faint resemblance to Ah Chu in her mannerisms and speech.

This was a memory within Han Nu’s embroidery illusion, as well as Han Nu’s own recollection.

So, in her memory, Tanyin had appeared this way.

This was Han Nu’s residence in the divine realm.

At that time, she had just ascended and didn’t know anyone.

Tanyin had been passing by her palace to gather materials when she happened to notice a massive embroidery hanging in the hall, and she paused to admire it—this was how she came to know Han Nu.

The embroidery was enormous, depicting pavilions, terraces, flowering trees, and mountains, all scenes of mortal wealth and grandeur.

If one stared at it long enough, they would notice that everything inside seemed alive, as if it were a small world, entirely different from the intricacies of magical treasures like the Exquisite House or the Qiankun Bag.

Tanyin’s heart suddenly stirred.

Could this be the very embroidery that was now trapping both her and Taihe inside?

Looking back now, from the first time Han Nu met her, she had always been incredibly warm toward her.

Tanyin, not well-versed in human nature, never questioned why Han Nu treated her so kindly without any reason.

When others were kind to her, she would naturally respond with kindness, and so, inexplicably, they became close.

Even Taihe had found it strange.

Now, she finally understood.

Han Nu’s feelings for Ah Chu had led her to see Tanyin as a reflection of Ah Chu, which was why she had treated her so warmly, unlike the way she interacted with others.

Tanyin also recalled that after Han Nu became a goddess, she hadn’t been very happy. Unlike many of the gods and goddesses who had achieved great enlightenment, Han Nu remained deeply attached to the mortal world.

As Taihe once said, Han Nu’s ties to the mortal realm had not yet been severed.

The laws of the divine realm had become stricter over time, and after becoming a god, it was forbidden to have any contact with the mortal world.

Han Nu had never found an opportunity to return and resolve her worldly attachments, and because of this, she had always been somewhat melancholy.

One day, the three of them were chatting by the Milky Way. Han Nu had mentioned the mortal world but then fell into silence.

No matter how much Tanyin asked, Han Nu simply smiled and shook her head, refusing to share any details about her time in the mortal realm.

Han Nu was exceptionally good at keeping secrets—if she didn’t want to say something, no one could make her.

If they hadn’t been trapped inside the embroidery, Tanyin might never have known this part of Han Nu’s past.

“No matter what it is, you no longer belong to the mortal world, and you shouldn’t let mortal attachments entrap you,” Taihe had said slowly as he sat on a stone that day.

“The laws are rigid, but we are not. If you keep going like this, you’ll invite disaster upon yourself. If you have unfinished business in the mortal world, why not just forget the laws and sneak down to settle it? Don’t worry, we’ll cover for you.”

Han Nu gave him a grateful glance and then looked at Tanyin.

The Tanyin in her memory, who bore a faint resemblance to Ah Chu, also nodded and smiled, saying, “Go ahead, we won’t tell anyone.”

Han Nu took the embroidery with her—the one she had promised to give Ah Chu as a dowry.

Now that she was a goddess, creating mansions and treasures of gold was as easy as a flick of the hand.

By this time, Ah Chu must have been in her thirties. How was she doing? Was Anping treating her well?

Han Nu descended to the mortal realm in secret, concealing her divine light, and first returned to the dilapidated hut on the mountain where she had lived.

Since her death, no one had lived there, and it seemed Ah Chu hadn’t taken care of it either. In the years since, the hut had long fallen into disrepair, with moss and vines covering the ruins.

Han Nu felt a twinge of disappointment.

She had thought that after her death, Ah Chu might have tended to the hut, given that they had lived there together for six years and she had even died in that hut.

But then again, it didn’t matter.

As long as Ah Chu was living a happy life, that was what mattered.

The dead were gone, but the living had to carry on. Ah Chu couldn’t be trapped there forever.

Han Nu concealed herself and made her way down to the nearby town. Despite the passing of many years, not much had changed in the small, remote town.

The little restaurant where Ah Chu had once worked was still there.

It was late in the day, and the owner was about to close up.

He was now a fat man with a large belly, unrecognizable from the handsome youth he had once been.

Han Nu had to spend some time staring at him to recognize that he was Anping.

Inside the restaurant, a woman said something, and Anping impatiently turned around and yelled, “I know, stop nagging!”

Han Nu quietly drifted into the room, disappointed to see that the woman who had spoken wasn’t Ah Chu but a long-faced woman she didn’t recognize, with a harsh appearance.

Where was Ah Chu? Wasn’t she supposed to be with Anping? Had this scoundrel abandoned her after all?

Suddenly, there was the sound of a child crying outside, followed by a loud banging on the door.

Then, the voice that had haunted Han Nu for so many years screamed from outside, “Anping, you heartless dog! You abandoned me and our daughter to be with that vixen, and you even stole my shop! Everyone, come see! Judge for yourselves! Look at this heartless scoundrel!”

Han Nu trembled all over and rushed outside, forgetting everything else.

There she saw Ah Chu pounding on the closed door with her fists and feet.

Ah Chu was no longer the delicate girl she had once been.

Her hair was disheveled, her face sallow, and she looked like a worn-out farmwife.

Tears and snot streamed down her face as she kicked at the door, completely falling apart.

The neighbors gathered to watch the spectacle, pointing and laughing.

“That shrew’s at it again, haha.”

“She comes here every day to make a scene and gets beaten every time. What’s the point?”

“This shop was left to her by the old owner, but now it’s been stolen by this scoundrel. He kicked her out because she had a daughter, gave her divorce papers, and threw her out. Poor thing…”

Han Nu’s hands trembled.

This was the same little Ah Chu she had once cherished! After her death, Ah Chu had been reduced to this! By her side was an eight- or nine-year-old girl—her daughter, no doubt—crying loudly.

But Ah Chu didn’t even look at her, entirely focused on pounding on the door, making a complete mess of the scene.

Han Nu took a step forward, ready to take Ah Chu away, but just then, the door opened, and a basin of water was thrown out, drenching Ah Chu.

The long-faced woman inside gave her a scornful look, then glared at Anping before walking away, saying, “You deal with this yourself!”

Anping, full of rage, stormed out and slapped Ah Chu, sending her tumbling back several steps.

“You wretch! If I don’t break your legs, you’ll never learn your place!”

He began kicking and punching her, while Ah Chu clung to his leg, crying, “Anping! You heartless man! What did you promise me back then? If you don’t want me around, fine! Give me the ten taels of gold the government awarded you that year, and I’ll leave with the child!”

Anping kicked her away and roared, “You wretch! I knew you had no heart! You even betrayed your own sister! I must’ve been blind to marry you! Ten taels of gold? All these years with me, haven’t you lived a life of luxury? You’ve long squandered all that money!”

He pointed at Ah Chu, who couldn’t get up, and addressed the neighbors watching the scene as if pleading, “Look at her! It’s not that I’m heartless! This woman, back then, for the reward of ten taels of gold from the authorities, urged me to report her own sister and have her burned to death! You all remember that fire, don’t you? Who would dare want such a venomous woman?”

The crowd buzzed. Many elders recalled the incident years ago when the “witch” was burned, only to have a sudden rainstorm extinguish the flames.

Shocked, they looked at Ah Chu, now realizing the sisters’ connection.

The thought that the younger one betrayed her sister for gold stirred feelings of disgust and contempt.

Ah Chu wailed, “Wasn’t it for you?! Didn’t you say you couldn’t marry me because we had no money? I quarreled with my sister that day and told you about it out of anger! Everything I did was for you! And now you treat me like this! How can you live with yourself?”

Anping sneered coldly, “That’s right. Can you live with yourself?”

Everything that followed—the shouting, the chaos—Han Nu couldn’t bear to watch anymore. She turned and slowly walked away from this nightmarish town.

As scenes from the past flashed before her eyes, a deep chill settled into her bones.

Who was she?

Why was she standing here?

Why had she brought the embroidered picture down to the mortal realm?

A dowry?

The searing pain of being burned alive?

Had she really experienced all that?

What kind of world was this?

Every human face was twisted with viciousness, ready to devour each other.

It was either you die or I live.

Han Nu looked down and gently stroked the embroidered picture in her hands. Bloodstains from that time still marked it.

Back then, with her frail, dying body, she had poured all her heart into stitching that dowry for Ah Chu.

Kill her.

Kill her!

A savage red light flickered in Han Nu’s eyes as she turned around, panting.

Murderous rage surged through her body, just like when she had been tied to the fire, her skin and hair consumed by the roaring flames.

It hurt!

It hurt so much she could hardly breathe!

She collapsed to the ground.

Her pale skin, now covered in grotesque black and red burn scars, began to split open, and blood gushed from the cracks, staining the embroidered picture.

Kill her!

Tears of blood streamed from Han Nu’s eyes.

After what felt like an eternity, her wounds slowly healed, and she shakily rose to her feet.

She turned back toward the town.

The shop’s door was already shut, and Ah Chu sat outside with her daughter, softly crying.

Han Nu silently watched her.

She had once wanted to give Ah Chu everything, to protect her with all her soul, so that she would never shed a single tear.

But now, Ah Chu was crying, drenched in blood.

Should she kill her?

Should she not?

A god’s voice from the heavens echoed in her mind like a divine bell: “Once you’ve become a goddess, you must sever all ties with the mortal realm. You must not kill humans without cause, or you will fall from divinity and be destroyed.”

She was a goddess.

Why had she become one?

If she killed Ah Chu, she wouldn’t survive either.

She would be destroyed, her soul scattered…

Why?

Why had she become a goddess?

Ah Chu… Ah Chu… Han Nu stared at her, this woman, battered and sobbing, and in her mind, she suddenly saw the image of Ah Chu as a sixteen-year-old girl, smiling sweetly, linking arms with her playfully.

She had once given everything for her.

Could she really bring herself to kill her?

After what seemed like an eternity, Han Nu slowly rolled up the embroidered picture and tucked it back into her sleeve.

Once again, she turned around.

Ah Chu’s sobbing faded away, and darkness shifted into soft, white light as Han Nu returned to the divine realm.

Ahead, Tanyin approached, dressed in white, with dark hair and a smile on her face.

In an instant, she transformed into a young Ah Chu, just as she had been in her youth, grinning as she took Han Nu’s hand and asked, “So, did you resolve it?”

Han Nu gave her a strange smile, both sweet and full of despair.

“Mm, it’s resolved.”

And then all the light returned to darkness.