3 A Hell Flower Reborn

In Yinyue's last conscious moments, a sudden memory of a blood-like sea of red spider lilies swaying on a lonely hillside flashed through her mind.

Years ago, she embarked on a journey to Gaoyang state as a young bride-to-be, passing the same hill.

Maybe those red spider lilies were an omen of her fate.

Unlike her memories of being kept in the bridal carriage, she waded through the wavy cluster of red spider lilies, smelling their faint sweet fragrance.

"Hell flowers," a woman's voice came from behind. "Also known as corpse flowers."

It was her own voice.

Yinyue swung around to see another version of her. A splitting image — a twin doppelgänger, stood there  — the same face and body reflecting her wretched physical form like a mirror.

No one else was around. Instinct told her to stay calm, even though she wanted to scream at the ghostly apparition.

Yinyue recalled her old conversation with the maidservants in the accompanying entourage when she asked about the red spider lilies.

According to the maidservants, the flowers bloomed and died in a cycle, only to be reborn again. The commoners called them corpse flowers or hell flowers because they grew in unmarked mass graves, feeding off the nutrients from dead bodies.

The more magnificent the clusters each season meant more rotting bodies under. Most animals kept away from feasting on those red spider lilies because of their toxin. The poisonous bulbs kept smaller scavengers away.

No one liked a red spider lily, but no one dared to uproot them, for fear of being haunted by the ghosts of those bodies lying below.

The doppelgänger pointed to the red lily flowers.

"Promise me this. Be a red spider lily."

With those words, the doppelgänger vanished, leaving her among the red spider lilies.

"Promise me…," the voice of her doppelgänger echoed.

Yinyue clenched her fists until her knuckles went white. In her next life, she'll fight for control over her life, not to die in misery again.

Screw obedience, screw gentleness and screw trusting anyone.

No point being nice and kind.

"I'll feed on the corpses of my enemies. The more corpses lay below my feet, the more beautiful I'll bloom," she swore.

As though satisfied with her answer, the swaying red spider lilies around Yinyue began transforming into growing waves of warm crimson blood sweeping past her waist.

Her nose sniffed at the overpowering metallic scent of blood.

The stench of blood used to repel her into vomiting. Now she enjoyed the bloody fragrance.

In a blink of an eye, an unseen force teleported her to a hill before the open fortress gates of Huangcheng. The city was burning within. Through the gates, she felt the burning sensation from intense heat.

People fled around her screaming in terror. Children cried. Men carried their belongings in bundles, running past and even through her. Soldiers threw down their weapons and ran.

A great inferno burst from its insides, swallowing up the city and its inhabitants.

And everything turned black.

***

Yinyue woke up screaming in a cold sweat, still covered with a mildew-smelling quilt. Someone stirred beside her to sit up on the hard wooden bed.

She felt her face and gave herself a pinch. The pain told her it wasn't a dream. She is alive.

But didn't she die?

She made out the small body of a child sitting beside her in the dark.

Why was she back in the cold palace? Back in the Central Palace of Huangcheng? Or was it a vivid nightmare?

"What is it?" Asked the child.

The grouchy voice sounded familiar. The sleepy child rubbed his eyes.

She squinted and made out Hushiyi's child-like face against the faint glow of a contained fire in the small metal basin.

Years have gone by and she still remembered him as a child.

Wait. No. She looked at her hands — small and chubby. Then around.

In their dank and dilapidated home, dark with cob webs all around and black mold surrounded them with dusty shelves which held their meagre clothing.

A rotting beam collapsed on another above, holding up the ceiling. The roof of tiles may come crashing on them one day while they slept. During the heavy rain, a waterfall cascaded into their living area.

The chilly draught flowed through the old weathered wooden windows, holes in the wall, and under doors, finding its way onto any uncovered skin. He blew hot air into his hands and grabbed her hands, rubbing them to generate warmth.

Yinyue blinked in disbelief as her eyes fell on Hushiyi again.

He is alive again in flesh and blood, breathing too.

She felt his warm breath again.

Her eyes teared up at the long-lost feeling of family. All the grief of losing him, and the thought of losing him again, cause her chest to tighten.

The torrent of mixed feelings — both elation and grief welled up within, like an overflowing dam overwhelming her. Her body trembled as her hands reached out for her brother's face.

"Stop it!" He said. "Are you that annoying?"

His words were harsh, but he still breathed. Her brother is alive. ALIVE.

Her flood of feelings came rushing out in uncontrollable sobs.

"Oh, why are you such a crybaby?" He groaned.

She sobbed even more.

His hand patted her on the shoulder, not knowing what else to do. "Now, now, stop crying. I'm sorry."

She returned to the time when she was about to be separated from Hushiyi.

Out of spite, the Empress housed them in the cold palace when they returned.

They lived no better than stray dogs. To get food, Hushiyi often stole from the well-fed maids and eunuchs. When they caught him, he would return with bruises and swellings from being bashed.

Only later would their Emperor-father would find out about their living conditions.

Hushiyi tossed another stick on the small fire in the metal basin and wrapped his tattered woollen blanket around her trembling body.

Yinyue looked at the small miserable pile of twigs and branches stacked in neat piles at the side, and then at Hushiyi's callused frostbitten fingers.

"Done crying? Did you have a nightmare?" Hushiyi asked.

She didn't answer. The sobbing and heaving stopped. The tears continued rolling her cheeks while she continued to stare at her brother with choked words.

She returned to their childhood time. A relief washed over her.

"Why do you feel so hot?" Hushiyi asked.

He felt her forehead.

Then he placed the other hand on his forehead. "Shit! You're burning up. I'm going out to get you medicine."

Yinyue pulled his arm when he stood up. "Don't leave me. I don't want to be alone."

"But you're burning up. You can DIE!"

Yinyue sensed the panic and fear in his trembling voice as his eyes teared up. Hushiyi had looked after their dying mother together with maternal grandfather, who taught him a bit of medical skills.

The small glowing fire reflected in his teary eyes and the reflection transformed into the images of red spider lilies, before she died in her first life.

"You must be the red spider lily, the hell flower…you promised," her own voice whispered in her head.

She broke away from Hushiyi's gaze and looked around. No one else around except for Hushiyi.

Could this be her second chance for a new life, to rewrite her past and change her fate?

It must be.

The more dead enemies laid under a red spider lily, the more beautiful this red spider lily will bloom.

She touched his face and looked at him with innocent eyes.

"I can't die. Hell sent me back," she said.

Yes. She will be a bloody red Hell Flower. She must.

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