"Qizhao"

My name is Shen Yuan, and I guard a medicine hall in the south of the city that is about to be overrun by Western hospitals. On a rainy night when I was sixteen, I picked up a half-dead man from an alley that looked like a mass grave. His name is Jiang Yu, and he is the young master of the Jiang family who "drowned" in a shipwreck a few days ago. He burned it for seven days and seven nights, and I used seven ancestral recipes. The moment he opened his eyes, the tide outside the window began to calm down. I thought I had saved my life, but later I realized that it was a calamity that had been plaguing me for half my life. He had nowhere to go, so he stayed in the medicine hall to study pharmacology. For three years, I was in the front hall asking for diagnosis and feeling the pulse, while he was drying medicine and pounding the pestle in the vagina. People in the city said that the daughter of the Shen family and the husband of the Jiang family were a rare bit of tenderness in troubled times. Only I know that deep in those seemingly calm eyes, there is always an extinct volcano about to erupt. The remnants of the Jiang family's old men were found, and a cargo ship that could help him take revenge and seize power was moored at the dock. That night he knelt in front of me, put a silver ring engraved with the word "" on my finger, and said, "I will come back to marry you after I finish cleaning up the mess over there." I believed it. But fate did not give us this opportunity. Some of my newly developed medicines are being targeted by powerful people. What they want is not the prescriptions, but the source of the medicines in the entire south of the city. If I don't obey, it will be a small thing if the Shen family medicine hall collapses, but a big thing will be that the livelihood of hundreds of medicine farmers will be affected. And it just so happened that Jiang Yu was like a fish in water after returning to Beicheng. He needed a marriage with Miss Lu to completely secure his position. Miss Lu is a noble person in his career, gentle and intelligent, and she is the most suitable light in the world for him. I am a woman who grew up in a medicine hall and know best about choices. When the heat is up, the medicine should be boiled. If it is too hot, it will burn. I took off my silver ring and asked someone to bring it to him, along with a letter: The old illness has healed, so don't miss it. I hope you will take good care of me and have a bright future ahead. He didn't come back. It's just that the port of Beicheng has an unnamed lighthouse overnight. It is said that the cost is huge, and the light of the lighthouse is not the ordinary yellow and white, but a rare blue, which stays on all night, as if someone is waiting for a ship that will never return. Several years later, the war spread to the south of the city. I evacuated all the medicinal farmers and guarded the last batch of stocked medicinal materials alone. When the sky was red with artillery fire, I received an old wooden box delivered from Beicheng. Inside was the silver ring and a yellowed letter with the word "Suicide Note" written on it. The date on the letter was the night before he left by boat. He said: "Yuan'er, if you don't come back here, I hope you will marry someone else. If you come back, I will live up to my expectations for the rest of my life." Only then did I realize that the silver ring that I had returned had already been embedded in the observation deck at the top of the lighthouse. He built that tower not to guide ships, but just so that he could wear the ring at the highest place and look south of the city every day. As for the farewell letter I sent back then, he did not dare to open it until his death. Holding the letter in hand, I burst into tears for the first and last time amid the beacon fires burning simultaneously in North City and South City. He thought he had made me safe. I thought I had fulfilled his future. It wasn't until the ashes settled that we discovered that this so-called "fulfillment" only pushed the other party into a deeper abyss. Love is colder than death, and we all live in what we think is "for your own good". Purpose: To explore how two souls use "perfection" as the blade to cut each other until their flesh and blood are blurred under the impermanence of fate and the crushing of the times. Title: "I personally pushed him to a tomorrow without me, but I didn't know that he had already carved my name into his 'yesterday'." Explore the arrogance behind sacrifice, and how forgetting can become the most prudent and silent punishment.