Churan was enjoying her meal before setting out to continue her research when Nano's voice suddenly cut through, sounding troubled.
"Miss, Miss, you should read this," Nano said, clutching a letter in her hand.
Churan sighed, "Ugh, can't I enjoy my meal in peace? I'm sure it's not that urgent and can wait, right?"
"No, it can't wait. You MUST read this first, then you can eat all you want," Nano insisted, handing Churan the letter.
Churan took the letter, reluctant but intrigued. "I'm so tired, dammit," she muttered. "Just read this thing while I'm eating, alright?"
Nano nodded and started reading the letter aloud.
"This is an invitation from the royal palace to the princess' birthday party tomorrow. You must go, miss," Nano announced.
Churan sat stunned, then swallowed a mouthful of spicy food and started to choke.
"Water, water, please!" she sputtered between coughs.
The servants panicked, shouting, "Get a doctor! The lady is dying!"
Meanwhile, Eugene arrived to visit his sister and almost died from laughter. "Sister," he chortled, "I can't believe you nearly choked on spicy food."
Churan, still catching her breath, shot him a stern look. "The royal palace knows I've recovered, yet you, my own brother, who lives under the same roof, have wrong information...
So, Can I use my near-death experience to evade this party?"
Eugene snickered before responding. "Are you really going to claim you nearly choked yourself on purpose just to skip the party? Your name is written in bold, clear letters on that invitation. The princess is unpopular due to her troublemaking ways. Everyone in the capital is curious about you. That's likely why they invited you, thinking you'd make the celebration interesting."
Churan crossed her arms and sighed. "I don't enjoy crowded places, and I don't excel at forming relationships either," she admitted. "I prefer solitude. Why is it so hard for people to understand that?"
Eugene listened intently as Churan spoke about her preference for solitude. "Why do you like being alone?" he asked.
Churan responded, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness, "I love being alone because I'll always be alone, and I'll get used to it. But why should I love someone who's already gone and far from me?"
Eugene moved closer to her and sat down by her side, remaining silent for a moment before speaking.
"I understand your words," he said gently. "I truly do. However, in the end, you will still leave and love and befriend different people. Even if they are gone intentionally or unintentionally, you'll hold onto those memories, smiling or letting them go with the wind. If you're left alone, you'll never grow up, regardless of how much you think you know."
Eugene paused for a moment; his voice soft yet firm. "When you love and travel, you'll realize you spent your years at the same point. Then, you become a forgotten painting, just like you said. There's no need to hold onto someone who's gone. If you're on your way and can't find someone to accompany you, you will learn."
As Churan listened, she felt a pang of both realization and sorrow. Her brother's words struck a nerve, making her ponder the truth in his statements.
Eugene placed a gentle hand on her shoulder before continuing, "Let the past go away, be happy, and grow slowly."
Churan's gaze drifted to the floor, her mind whirling in contemplation of her brother's wisdom. The weight of his words settled upon her like an uncomfortable yet necessary cloak. Although she had always taken refuge in solitude, his words hinted at the idea that such isolation could also hold her captive, never allowing her to truly mature.
She understood the point he was making, recognizing the truth in his concern. Yet, the thought of stepping outside her comfort zone, of opening herself up to the uncertainty of human relationships, sent a shiver of anxiety down her spine.
But as she looked up at her brother's earnest face, his eyes filled with caring and understanding, she realized that perhaps it was time to face her fears and embrace the reality of change. If she wanted to grow, to move forward in life, she couldn't remain a forgotten painting frozen in time, "Brother, it will be difficult and unbearable, but I will work really hard and grow up to be a kind person, no matter what others say."
Churan found herself lost in thought, her gaze locked with her brother's. A pang of sadness washed over her as she pondered whether he would accept the true, complex version of herself. The knowledge that she was holding back parts of her character made every moment spent in his presence feel like a deception.
She silently wondered if there would ever be a time when she could reveal her genuine self to her brother, without the fear of judgment or disappointment. Deep down, she yearned for authenticity, for him to know the person behind the masks she wore. She wanted him to call her by her name, not "Churan"
Eugene lightly tousled Churan's hair, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, that's my adorable little sister," he teased affectionally.
"Alright, I'll go now you to get a hanfu for the party," Churan said, standing up.
"Do you want me to accompany you?"
Churan shook her head, a touch of determination in her eyes. "No, it's fine. I wanted to go on my own anyway."
She seized the opportunity to escape, using it as a pretext to flee from the emotionally overwhelming moment
….
Churan walked away, feeling relieved that her family's wealth could justify the purchase of a new hanfu even though she already possessed a plethora of clothing. As she strolled, her gaze fell upon a criminal billboard. It warned of a murderer roaming the streets, indiscriminately taking lives.
With a resigned sigh, Churan thought to herself, "As expected, the people here are so cruel and frightening. Peace seems to be in short supply. I wish I could return home."
Chuan continued on her way back home. While making her way through town, she noticed some individuals wearing black masks that masked their faces.
Despite their outwardly average appearance, the black masks left Churan intrigued. Her curiosity piqued; she followed them discreetly in hopes of discovering more about their identity. The path led deep into a dark, thick forest.
As Churan ventured further into the forest, shadows danced eerily around her like silent spectres. The men she was following made no sound, their footsteps muffled by the thick undergrowth. A shiver of trepidation danced down her spine, but Churan's curiosity outweighed her fear.
Churan observed the men approaching a man dressed in white and exuding elegance. As they approached, however, they discarded their civilian attire, revealing dark clothing beneath. They brandished weapons and charged forward, closing in on the solitary figure.
Chuan's mind raced with conflicting thoughts. She knew it would be wise to stay out of the situation, yet her conscience compelled her to intervene. She couldn't just stand idly by. As she realized that her involvement could well bring about her own suffering, she muttered to herself, "Oh, what am I getting myself into this time"
Churan acted swiftly, tearing off a piece of her hanfu and wrapping it around her face to makeshift a face covering. She darted into the fray, positioning herself in front of the man to shield him. With a surprising display of swordsmanship, she seemed to materialize from thin air.
"You are better off leaving now if you value your life," she declared, her blade poised at the killer's neck. Telling the man behind her.
The man behind her spoke up. "I cannot leave a woman alone to face danger."
"Do you think me a helpless woman who needs a man to help her?" Churan retorted.
The killer chuckled derisively. "Who are you, girl? It's better you don't interfere so as not to meet a tragic end."
"I am his guard," Chuan asserted firmly. And with that, she engaged the assailants in a swift and precise battle, demonstrating exceptional skill. She aimed to incapacitate rather than kill her opponents, targeting the first to approach the man.
Her movements were a blur of metal and fluid grace as she fought, showcasing a level of expertise that surpassed expectations for a young woman. Her blade danced through the air in a whirlwind of steel, fending off attacks and retaliating with a calm, calculated precision that belied the danger of the situation.
The man behind her watched in surprise and awe as Churan efficiently handled the assailants, her guard skills putting her in a whole different category. He had initially assumed she was a mere damsel in distress, but it was clear she was more than capable of holding her own in a fight.
The man observed Churan's display of combat abilities with a mixture of surprise and confusion. Despite her physically weak appearance, she fought with a precision and skill that left him dumbfounded. He couldn't help but wonder who this young woman was.
After a brief period, it became clear that the attackers could not overcome her. They retreated, and the man grabbed her hand, urging her to flee the forest.
Once they reached safety, he spoke, "Don't you want to know why I entered the forest, or who I am?"
Churan responded somewhat indifferently, "I'm not particularly interested in you. I intervened simply because, well, I don't know why I saved you."
She attempted to leave, only to be pulled back by the man. He held her firmly in front of him and removed the mask from her face.
Churan protested angrily, attempting to conceal her features, "I should have let you perish; you jerk."
The man smiled at her irritation, undaunted by her sharp words. He studied her face carefully, his eyes taking in every detail.
"I find myself rather interested in you," he said, his gaze lingering on hers.
The man chuckled mockingly and pushed her aside, preparing to go his way. However, he stopped and scrutinized her once more, his expression becoming serious as he spoke.
"I wouldn't have died even if you hadn't come," he declared.
His gaze shifted to her hands, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. Before she could react, he moved away, leaving her standing there. As she realized where his gaze had been directed, Churan hastily hid her hands behind her back, as if concealing a secret. "We should avoid meeting each other again," she mumbled softly to herself