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墨書 Inktalez
The fabric on Shen Yan's back was charred in the fire, revealing the crisscrossed scars of a whip. As he rushed out of the flames with the Second Mistress, I clearly saw the blood seeping from the junction of his severed limb and prosthetic, trailing across the blue brick ground like a curse.
"Mother!" He knelt down, laying the Second Mistress flat on the ground, her wet hair revealing a scar from a knife. The moonlight illuminated the loosened collar of her qipao, where a mark identical to Shen Yan's burned into her collarbone.
"Beast! Is this where you should touch?" The master's jade ring cut into Shen Yan's eye corner, blood splattering onto the Second Mistress's pale chest. I noticed a half-bloomed peony tattooed on his mouth, with the character "Yun" hidden within its petals.
Shen Yan was fully immersed in mud, his prosthetic knee pressed against his opponent's abdomen. "Eighteen years ago, when you strangled my mother, you were in this very position when you struck down."
As I rushed to support the master, I heard Shen Yan tearing open the Second Mistress's clothing. In that moment as he leaned down, I clearly saw him roll a silver whistle with his tongue—identical to the one tied around the Second Mistress's neck by a red cord.
"Sister..." The Second Mistress murmured between breaths during artificial respiration, her crimson-painted nails clawing at Shen Yan's back. "A Yun hurts so much..."
Suddenly, Shen Yan yanked that red cord. When the silver whistle hit the ground, it shattered into two pieces, revealing a curled fetus inside. The torrential rain washed over the master's distorted face as he roared for the servants to cut off everyone's tongues, yet no one dared approach the burning ancestral hall.
Amidst the sound of tablets exploding in the fire, I picked up a charred piece of wood. With the remnants of gold paint, I discerned the characters " The Qin Clan of the Shen Sect," marking the day three years ago when I was sold into Shen Mansion.
As midnight struck, I found myself beneath the ginkgo tree in front of the ancestral hall. Shen Yan knelt in the rain curtain, blood seeping from his bandages staining the ground with paper money. The lips that had bitten my earlobe last night were now pressed into a sharp line; those burns that made me shudder glimmered with a deathly pallor in the rain.
"You'll catch a cold," I draped an outer garment over his shoulders. The soaked bellyband suddenly snapped, its embroidered pattern perfectly aligning with the bite marks on his severed limb.
Shen Yan's Adam's apple bobbed violently. His remaining left leg suddenly wrapped around my ankle, locking my joint at its root. "Stepmother, is this body good enough for Father?"
The torrential rain washed away the metallic scent of charred wood from the ancestral hall as his fingertips traced over my burn—the one inflicted by the master with an oil lamp last night. When his lips touched that scar, I realized his tongue was covered in tiny barbs.
"Young Master..." I struggled to reach for the hairpin, but he bound my wrists with a red string. The rope still carried the scent of Second Mistress's rouge, digging into the bruises he had left on me last night.
"Do you know why Father chose you?" he suddenly tore open my shirt, rainwater trickling down the contours of my muscles and pooling in my navel. "When you breathe heavily... you remind me so much of that child bride I accidentally suffocated."
In the moment when thunder split the night sky, I saw my reflection in his pupils—soaked to the bone like a newborn, taking on a lotus shape. This scene was disturbingly familiar, as if it had played out in some erased cycle before.
From the ruins of Shen Yan's ancestral hall came the sudden wail of an infant, shaking my entire being. Blood dripped from the torn remnants of his limbs onto my lower abdomen, scorching a birth date identical to that of the the Qin's memorial tablet.
"So it was you." He laughed maniacally, tearing open my collar to reveal a mole on my skin. "You should have been dealt with back then, along with that bastard..."
I grasped the damp charred wooden tablet and smashed it against his temple. As darkness consumed my consciousness, the last thing I saw was his bloodied lips moving silently, uttering the same words he had spoken on the night three years ago when my mother was pushed into the well.
"You must live to bite back, Ying Niang."
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