Snow Bodhi

The day I died was my fiancé’s wedding day.

In a dilapidated temple on the outskirts of the city, I bled from all my seven orifices, slumped over a prayer mat, weeping before a dust-covered Guanyin statue.

I have done no wrong against heaven or earth. So why… why have I ended up abandoned by all?

Guanyin remained silent, gazing at me with sorrowful compassion.

Outside, an urgent sound of galloping hooves broke through the stillness. Someone, cloaked in a frigid aura, approached me.

My eyes had already lost their sight, yet I futilely turned toward his direction, my voice hoarse as I pleaded:

“Whoever you are, please… ensure my body is taken care of. In the next life, I will surely repay you.”

He trembled as he held me in his arms. A single scorching tear fell upon my brow.

It was the night of the first snowfall, the weather was bitterly cold.

The cherished granddaughter of Marquis Zhongyong died in the wilderness at the age of sixteen.