The memory sealed within Han Nü’s embroidery seemed to be drawing to a close, as the light and sound grew increasingly chaotic and fragmented. From the moment she descended to the mortal realm, she had been shattered, constantly torn between despair and forgiveness.
In her recollection, Tan Yin sometimes appeared as A-Chu, and at other times, transformed into the divine figure of a white-robed goddess, shifting unpredictably.
Suddenly, the light softened, and the world blurred. Unbeknownst to them, Han Nü had descended to the mortal realm once again. Many years had passed, and A-Chu, now frail and elderly, lay in a half-worn bed, her breaths slow and labored.
Outside, it was midsummer. Bright wisteria flowers climbed the railings. The village was an unfamiliar and nameless one, with children laughing and running along the rice paddies. In the small wooden house, A-Chu was alone, gravely ill, and no one attended her bedside. The relentless sound of cicadas filled the scorching air, blending with A-Chu’s heavy, struggling breaths, suffocating the atmosphere.
Han Nü slowly sat by the bed, gazing down at A-Chu, the person she had once devoted all her heart to protect. This person had betrayed her, had condemned her to death, and yet her life had not been smooth afterward. In her final moments, A-Chu was left alone, and it was Han Nü who ended up by her side once more.
“A-Chu,” Han Nü softly called her name. She appeared in her divine form, carefully brushing away A-Chu’s sweaty, graying hair. “A-Chu.”
Half-conscious, A-Chu opened her eyes and saw only a glowing figure enveloped in divine light. Her clouded eyes stared in confusion for a long time until, suddenly, terror spread across her withered face.
“It’s you! It’s you!” she rasped in a hoarse whisper. “Are you here to take me away?! Have you come for revenge?!”
Han Nü showed no emotion, shaking her head slowly.
Perhaps from shock or fear, A-Chu began coughing violently, desperately trying to retreat into the bed. Her voice cracked as she screamed, “Are you here to punish me?! I’m not afraid of you! I’m not afraid!”
Grabbing a fan and hairpin from the bedside, A-Chu threw them at Han Nü with all her might. With a light movement of her sleeve, Han Nü caught the objects in her hand. Seeing this, the terror in A-Chu’s eyes grew even stronger, and her breathing became more labored, as if she were about to choke on her last breath.
Han Nü placed the objects back on the table. After a long pause, she finally spoke softly, “All these years, I’ve wanted to ask you myself... A-Chu, why?”
A-Chu’s voice was weak and intermittent: “You... you hate me... why talk so much… take me away! To the underworld, to the fires of hell… I’m not afraid...”
“Why did you betray me?”
“I’m not afraid...”
“Why?”
A-Chu suddenly stared at her with a twisted smile: “Are you asking me this because you want to be freed from your suffering? Do you think that by getting an answer from me, you’ll be released from your grudge?”
Han Nü remained silent for a moment before nodding slowly. She was fully aware that this twisted fate had bound her, tormenting her for what felt like an eternity. She now sought relief, and only A-Chu could provide it. Whatever her answer might be, it would sever Han Nü’s ties to the mortal realm.
A-Chu’s smile grew more mocking. “Sister, you’re so selfish. You only think about your own release... I’ve lived in your shadow my entire life, never had a day of happiness. You finally died, but then that man abandoned me... You want relief, but what about me? If not for you, my life wouldn’t have been like this…”
“You’ve always been extraordinary, favored by our parents, while no one cared about me... They died because of you, and they deserved it!” A-Chu’s eyes filled with hatred, every resentment she had ever harbored surfacing in her final moments. “So what if you can embroider? It’s karma! Everything you stitched turned into monsters and demons that hurt and killed! If our parents knew, they would regret ever doting on you! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been bullied all my life. Every time I saw your hypocritical face, I wanted to tear it apart! You even tried to stop me from being with An Ping. If you had died sooner, how much better off would I have been? Then I wouldn’t have been cursed and abandoned as a snake-hearted woman! Do you know how I suffered, how the rumors ruined me, forced me to live as a wretched outcast with my daughter?”
Han Nü’s face paled, and she whispered, “You... brought that upon yourself.”
“Yes, I did. I brought it on myself,” A-Chu laughed bitterly. “You always liked to act like the perfect sister, meddling in everything I did, pretending to care. And now, why are you here? To hear the truth and still love me, no matter what I say? You want to be freed? You hate me? Ha! You’re no better than I am!”
The sound of cicadas grew deafening, a chaotic chorus against the unbearable silence. Han Nü stood there, lost, staring at the wrinkled, spiteful smile on A-Chu’s face. Instead of finding release, she felt herself sinking deeper into an abyss. Cold chills and burning heat alternated through her body, tightening and loosening around her chest.
“I don’t care what you are now—a ghost, a wronged spirit, whatever… I’ll never let you be free. I’ll never let you have your way... You want revenge, but I won’t let you succeed…” A-Chu’s voice trailed off, her eyes growing vacant, and with a final, feeble breath, she whispered, “I won’t let you…”
Suddenly, the cicadas’ cries ceased, and an oppressive silence fell over the world.
Han Nü leaped to her feet, feeling as though she was losing her mind. She grabbed A-Chu’s frail body, only to realize in horror that A-Chu had already passed. She was dead. Her soul had drifted away, returning to the cycle of reincarnation. Even though Han Nü was a goddess, she could not interfere. She could only watch as A-Chu’s soul departed, leaving her alone.
She had to stand there and watch A-Chu die peacefully, her long, troubled life coming to an end. And even in death, A-Chu wore a satisfied smile.
Han Nü stared at that faint smile on her lips and suddenly let out a scream. Countless threads spilled from her body, shredding A-Chu’s corpse into a bloody mist. She collapsed to the ground as her pale skin began to char and peel once more. It was as if she were being burned alive on the pyre again—no, she would forever be bound to the pyre, never able to break free, never able to leave.
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