Late that night, the lights on the fifth-floor office corridor were reduced to a few faint streaks.
Bach Lan had just finished sending her report and stepped into the hallway, ready to leave, when she suddenly heard the soft echo of footsteps from the nearby auxiliary meeting room.
A low, familiar voice rose. It was Trach Hien, speaking with his personal assistant.
She flinched slightly, stopping instinctively.
"She's starting to suspect." – The assistant whispered. – "I saw her going through all the documents you directed her to handle."
"It's fine." – Trach Hien replied calmly. – "She won't have enough proof to accuse me of anything. Bach Lan is just a loyal pawn."
There was a pause, then the assistant hesitated.
"But if she finds out, the plan to confront Trach Dong will be difficult to continue. And if you've truly started to feel something, it's even more dangerous."
Trach Hien's voice faltered for a moment. He tried to organize the messy emotions swirling inside him. Then, a laugh escaped, soft, almost imperceptible, yet enough to send a chill down the spine of anyone listening.
"Feelings? No. I'm just using her at the right time."
"But your eyes don't say the same." – The assistant murmured cautiously.
At that moment, she no longer heard any words, only the clink of a wine glass against the table, a sound so faint it sent a shiver down her spine.
Bach Lan stood frozen.
She hadn't heard everything, but that alone was enough to make her chest ache as if it had been torn apart.
Every sweet word.
Every hand squeeze.
Every gentle smile beside that afternoon tea.
It had all been just a tool, just a move in a game.
"I trusted him. I gave him my whole heart. Could it all have been lies? Could it be... that all this time, my feelings were just part of his plan?"
Yet why did her heart keep fluttering when she remembered the way he looked at her?
She had thought she had found the right person... but why?
Why did it all have to turn out like this?
Why, even now, could she not deny that what they shared might have been nothing more than a performance?
Still, somewhere in those intimate moments, she believed something had been real.
Bach Lan quietly stepped out of the fifth-floor hallway.
Every sound behind her seemed to vanish, as if the world had drained of noise, leaving only the pounding of a heart ripped apart, heavy, sorrowful, drenched in blood.
She walked without direction, her feet carried instinctively by the cold wind toward the rooftop.
On the rooftop, the wind howled like it was screaming in place of the sobs she dared not let out.
"Just a move."
"Just using her at the right moment."
Those two phrases cut into the softest corners of her memory like sharp, sweet knives.
She had once trusted him, trusted him with her whole heart... She had once felt warmth simply being near him.
She had believed he was the right choice. And yet...
Every memory, every smile, every gaze that had seemed gentle, now revealed itself as a reflection of falsehood.
She did not scream; she did not strike. Bach Lan simply sank onto the cold tile floor, hugging her knees, burying her face into her arms like a child abandoned by the world.
Her heart throbbed in waves, surging with a silent, violent intensity.
From deep within her body, her life force seemed to drain away. A dark current slithered through her veins, stirring old memories, dragging along an indescribable pain.
That current burned quietly inside her, as if it wanted to scorch her entire being, gut and liver aflame, both searing and excruciating.
Hot blood surged up her throat, and she stifled a sob. A streak of red fell onto the white tiles.
The shock tore through the fragile boundary between present and past. A chill swept through her, cracking the seals in her mind.
At that moment, a hand touched her shoulder, warm and familiar.
"Bach Nhi."
It was Thanh Nhi.
Her sister, the one who had always watched quietly from the shadows. She could not appear openly for fear of The Celestial General's pursuit, but this time, she could no longer stay aside.
"You've endured enough." – Thanh Nhi leaned down, wrapping her arms around her cold, trembling sister – "Wake up, Bach Lan."
Moonlight pierced through the clouds, casting a soft glow that swirled around the two sisters.
Thanh Nhi pressed her palm over Bach Lan's heart, sending the purest life force flowing through her, a sacrifice of the memories and energy she had preserved across her lifetime.
"I'm sorry. I should not have let you go so deep. I should have awakened you sooner. But now, you must remember. No matter how much it hurts, you must remember."
A white light flashed. Bach Lan's body trembled. Her memories shattered like glass, then slowly pieced together, fragment by fragment, frame by frame...
***
Many years ago, in a small town at the edge of a forest.
Trach Hien was born into a frail body. From a young age, he was plagued by constant illness, unable to do hard labor, and even ordinary schooling was beyond his reach like it was for other children.
He once dreamed of passing the imperial exams and becoming an official, but each time he picked up a brush, he would cough up blood before finishing a few chapters. The relentless pain and sickness forced him to abandon his studies over and over again.
"A sickly scholar like you, what are you dreaming of in the capital?"
"The doctor already said it... no more than twenty years left."
He never forgot those mocking words.
Born into poverty, he lost his mother in childbirth, and shortly after, his father was swept away by a flood when he was only five. He had to live dependent on an indifferent uncle in a rickety wooden house.
A few years later, that uncle passed away as well. All that remained with him were his pride and an unfulfilled longing that had never been satisfied.
The villagers called him a doomed comet, a short-lived soul, and no one wanted to be near him or entangle themselves in his life.
His stubborn illness tormented him relentlessly. It did not strike continuously every day, but each time he thought he was healthy like everyone else, the pain would return. It was like an invisible demon, offering him a faint glimmer of hope only to crush it mercilessly.
During that time, he often went to the forest's edge to gather herbs, partly for himself, partly to earn a few coins.
And one fine day, he met her.
Bach Lan was dressed in white, her long hair fluttering lightly in the wind. Her eyes sparkled like a quiet autumn lake, yet she was gravely injured, collapsing beside a large tree.
At that moment, he did not know she was a fox spirit. All he knew was that she was beautiful, so beautiful, she seemed not of this world.
He hesitated for a long while, then decided to carry her home. Day and night, he bandaged her wounds, brewed medicines, and hid her from the villagers' eyes.
She said little, only thanking him with gentle, quiet eyes.
Days passed, and Bach Lan gradually recovered. She stayed a while longer to repay his kindness, tending the cold, lonely house and caring for him, the first person to ever need care.
For the first time, he understood the warmth and gentleness of being loved and cared for. He was moved, then enchanted, then longing.
"If only she could stay by my side, how wonderful that would be."
But soon, she said she had to leave.
"Trach Hien, I must return to where I belong. You are a good man. You will find your own happiness."
Good man?
Those two words were the cruelest thing he had ever heard.
What do good people gain? Do they have the right to hold onto happiness? The right to exchange the future for a single act of saving someone?
He smiled faintly, his heart breaking with a silent ache.
"I do not need to be good. I only need you not to leave."
She looked at him, her gaze softening.
"I do not dare demand anything. I only ask... stay a little longer."
The late spring wind brushed past. Bach Lan bowed her head, a strange, unspoken feeling stirring in her heart.
And so, the innocent fox spirit who had never known love fell into her first love with a mortal, simply because she wanted to stay and repay his kindness.
That day, the rain poured down, each heavy drop falling like the last beat of his heart.
He lay there, blood seeping through his thin shirt, mingling with the icy rain. Every breath cut through his chest like a knife. His eyes could barely open. The world was slipping into darkness.
He knew... this time, perhaps it was real.
It was over.
In the haze of his fading consciousness, he heard someone crying, pleading. It was Bach Lan.
"Please... please save him..."
Her voice trembled, echoing from somewhere far away, faint yet enough to make his heart tighten.
She is crying for me?
He had once thought that death would not matter. A weakling like him, abandoned since childhood, unloved... what was there to cling to?
But now, hearing her voice, smelling her familiar scent, feeling her warm hand brush his cheek, for the first time, he feared death.
"I don't want to die. I cannot die while she is here."
A sudden surge of warmth rushed through his body, sweet, warm, full of life.
He opened his eyes.
Her lips were pressed against his, soft and trembling.
It was her spiritual energy.
She was giving him the most precious essence of the fox clan, something that only a fox spirit cultivated for over five hundred years could accumulate.
Her spiritual energy... she was risking everything for me.
Something stirred in his chest, emotion, awe, then greed. He could not control himself. His hand rose, gently gripping the back of her neck, pressing his lips harder against hers.
Just a little more... just a little, and I will live. I will be free of illness, free of weakness. I will have power, and I will have her.
The energy poured endlessly, his body recovering at an astonishing pace, every cell awakening.
I need more.
"Are you crazy?! If you keep transferring like this... you'll die!"
The sharp shout cut through the air as someone lunged forward. It was Dong Ha, just returned from a brutal battle at the border. But now he had to watch her risk herself for a mere mortal, powerless to intervene.
He gritted his teeth, heart aching, helplessly gripping her hand. He could not push her away, because if he did, both she and he might fall into danger.
Trach Hien saw him, yet he ignored it.
He knew that if he let go, she would survive. But he would lose the only thing he had ever truly possessed in his life: his life itself, and a fragment of love he had barely held.
"No... I cannot lose her."
Yet the spiritual energy flowing into him was too strong; his body seemed unable to contain it any longer. In the end, he released his hold.
The energy had fully merged with his body, life surging back. His body trembled as if he had just crossed the boundary between life and death.
"Little Bach... I'm okay now..."
He whispered, looking at her with eyes glistening with tears.
Half of it was gratitude.
Half of it was regret, because he knew from this moment on, he could never let her go again.
But sadly, half of her spiritual energy, the power she had spent hundreds of years accumulating was only just enough to pull him back from the brink of death.
The disease that had eaten into every organ, like a poison tree rooting into each vein, still lingered. When he awoke, his skin was rosier, his steps steadier. But just a few months later, the illness returned, smoldering and fierce.
Trach Hien began coughing up blood each night. Sometimes, he hid it from her, retreating into the deep forest, hunching over as the pain cut to the bone. Yet he knew that if he did nothing, he would die.
He did not want to die.
Not after tasting the gentle sweetness of her care. Not after feeling someone kneel by his side, with no calculations, no obligations, only a pure desire to save.
He began to speak softly:
"Little Bach... if you had not saved me that day, I would not be alive to see the sun today..."
He brushed her hair gently, his voice like spring wind gliding across her neck.
"I know... you have suffered so much because of me."
His eyes shimmered with fragility and yearning at the same time.
"I have thought a lot... if you truly want to stay by my side..." – He hesitated, then exhaled slowly. – "I do not want you to remain lonely in this mortal world, while I rest somewhere far away."
"I want to live... to live long and be with you every day."
He did not mention the forbidden technique.
He did not directly say that he needed her to cultivate again, to transfer her spiritual energy to him once more.
He only spoke of a beautiful future, a small straw-roofed house, a little chrysanthemum garden, a fox spirit waking in his arms every morning.
Yet deep in his eyes lay a shadow.
Because he knew she could not resist a plea from the one she had once tried to save with her very life.
And because he knew that if it happened just one more time, he would no longer be the weak man he had always been.
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