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When Song Mo finds out he's been poisoned, he freezes. When he hears that he has a year to live at best if the imperial doctors can't find a cure for the poison, he doesn't know what to do. His insides burn, his heart sinks, and his thoughts wander. There are so many things he has to do. So many duties he has to fulfill. So many oaths he has to fulfill.
Then all his thoughts stop, almost as if they hit a wall he can't avoid or jump over. His wife. His newly brought home, young, beautiful, and intelligent wife. The one he's sworn the most oaths to. The one he's failed so many times.
He can't tell her. He can't hurt her like this. He can't leave her like this.
When the doctor shoves a bowl of stinking medicine under his nose, Song Mo frowns. He clenches his fists. He reaches for the bowl and empties it without a word. The taste of the medicine sits on his tongue like mud, burns in his throat like swallowed coal. But nothing feels like the boulder that rests in his stomach. He can feel its weight. He can feel it pulling him down, giving him no hope.
- Don't tell my wife about this.
He begs. He pleads. He threatens. He's willing to do anything to keep it away from her. He can't hurt her like this. He can't tell her. He has to find a way...
He wants to spend this time with her, he wants to be happy. He wants to be able to take care of her like he promised her. He can feel almost malice in the poison they've given him.
"When my hair turns white..."
He says, just as he swore earlier.
"When your hair turns white, I'll still be here, and my hair will turn white too."
Dou Zhao replies, laughing happily. Song Mo would like that so much. He so wishes that his beloved could be with him until the end of time, so wishes that he had enough time so that they could grow old together. He wishes that he had time to start a family with her. He wishes that he had a chance to raise his children and enjoy his grandchildren. He wishes to bring peace and ensure the stability of the empire. He wishes to obtain justice for his uncle. He wishes to find out who was behind this whole conspiracy…
Now, all he can do is risk losing even this short time, maybe risk losing even this year, to ensure her safety after his death.
He is willing to risk everything. For her, he is willing to do anything.
So Song Mo clenches his fists as he drinks yet another of the most disgusting concoctions the medics create for him. He narrows his eyes, forcing his heart to beat calmly as his body twists in pain. He forces himself to breathe slowly when he is unable to sleep at night. All this to protect her from knowledge that could hurt her. All this so that she does not discover the truth. So every morning she puts kohl on her hair, hiding its changing color. All this to pretend that nothing is changing…
His act had become so ingrained in him that he had almost stopped flinching when Dou Zhao asked about his health. He had almost stopped making excuses when she asked how his day at work had been. He had almost stopped noticing how his men had looked away when he lied.
He knew that time was the only thing he didn't have in abundance. So he had stopped talking too much. He simply enjoyed her presence.
He knew that he didn't have much time left, the amount of dye he put in his hair was making his eyes water unpleasantly irritated by the substances it was made of. That day, he had no intention of doing anything but accompanying his wife. Even if she made him sweep the yard or run errands. He would be happy to do that for her. He would be happy to do anything for her.
They went for a walk. Song Mo was so lost in thought and planning that he didn't pay any attention to the light rain that began to fall from the sky as they walked between one of his wife's shops and the next one she wanted to visit. The rain was gentle, almost soothing. Song Mo wouldn't have paid any attention to it at all. He didn't even think about seeking shelter. However, his wife's hand tightened on his arm. He turned to her with a smile. He always smiled at her, after the events of that night, he was ready to do anything to make her remember him with a smile on his lips, and not as a brute who almost murdered his father. So he smiled at her gently, a joyful smile that had become an inseparable part of his daily preparation to face the world.
- Furen?
He asked, looking at her. He loved looking at her. She was the greatest joy in his life.
- Yan Tang... Your hair...
She said. Her hand slipped out of his grip and went to the mountain. She touched his hair, after a moment she withdrew her hand, the ends of her fingers were black. Song Mo flinched, looking away from his wife.
- It's nothing...
He said quietly. He didn't look at her. So he wasn't able to notice the mixture of emotions that quickly colored her face. Her hand tightened on his wrist, pulling him in an unknown direction. He gave in to her. He always gave in to her. He saw no point in opposing her, she always did what she wanted in the end anyway. She was a force of nature that had to be reckoned with. No one could defeat her or limit her, Song Mo never even thought about limiting her. He didn't want to see her like most aristocrats' wives - like a beautiful bird, locked in a golden cage. His beloved was as free as a wild hawk. Uncontrollable. Unstoppable.
But he knew. He knew that his hawk took care of those who were important to her. He knew that she loved more than others. He knew what sacrifices she was willing to make and what she would do to get what she wanted.
So he submitted to her. Like a little rabbit in the claws of his hawk.
He laughed at the image. It definitely reflected how he felt right now, but apparently the rabbit was very stupid because he trusted the hawk not to tear him apart. He trusted that he would put him safely back on the ground once he was done playing with him.