Doll

As our goblets filled with peach-pink poison clinked together, I suddenly felt a secret spark of anticipation rise within me. It seemed so happy, the thought of dying with her. The peach-pink liquid tasted sweet and astringent. I lifted my empty goblet and asked her, "Now, can you tell me how to save the doll's life?"

"Your doll is fine. Give Shenlan to her, and she'll know what to do." I saw her still smiling, but then her body suddenly slumped sideways.

"Ziyang, what's wrong?"

"I... You should be worried about yourself." Even as I gathered her into my arms, she refused to give in.

"You wouldn't hurt me." I didn't know why I was suddenly so certain. Perhaps it wasn't sudden at all. I had always trusted her completely.

She smiled. "I can't bear to kill you with my own hands, but I don't want to die in the arms of my father's murderer, either." Her gaze drifted to Shenlan on the ground. "Or you could die with me. We could forget everything and start over."

"All right." At last I remembered: the day I first saw the doll was also the day I killed Xue Lang. At last I remembered Ziyang's vacant stare, Ziyang's soft, fluffy short hair, and Ziyang's trembling hands gripping the sword that had killed more than a dozen members of the Xue family. That sword eventually fell to the ground, but it left an invisible hole in my heart. I heard sorrow rushing past and knew that in this life, I could never love her again.

So I deceived myself into believing that the happiness I couldn't give her, the doll she had made with her own hands, would be willing to accept on her behalf.

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