Finn pinched his own icy earlobe, forcibly torn by someone. It must have been excruciating. Nine years ago, Elisa had fearlessly jumped into the water to save someone. Little did she know that she would be ruined by the person she saved, left in tatters, ultimately confined to a wheelchair as flames engulfed her.
What a foolish girl, afraid of the cold, yet diving into icy waters in the dead of winter to save another.
Fate was cruel, yet she never lost her kindness. She treated others well, yet heaven never returned the favor.
If mistaking someone for another is a sin, then she was not a sinner unto death.
Mr. Dongguo and the wolf, the farmer and the snake-such stories were vividly portrayed in Elisa and Hamish. Hamish did not deserve death; he only deserved to live in pain. To die would only soil Elisa’s cycle of rebirth.
Finn never thought he would torment someone for pleasure in his lifetime, let alone that the first good deed he did would be to kill a woman.
The Elisa of the past yearned to live, but the Elisa of later years lived a life worse than death. She had cut her wrists, jumped from buildings, been in car accidents, and had been a “frequent visitor” at the hospital, receiving life-threatening notices no less than ten times. She had pleaded for him to end her life.
Elisa had endured countless pains, and this final agony was her liberation.
…
Hamish knelt on the ground, his mouth full of blood. He didn’t know when Finn had left. He knelt there, one hand clutching his stomach, the other covering his mouth. His palm was damp and sticky, uncomfortable. He stared blankly at his right hand, now stained red with blood.
The taste of stomach pains was so unbearable, like being entangled in thorns, sharp spikes piercing from within, wrenching his stomach as if it were about to burst.
Elisa, who feared pain, had been tormented like this for three or four years. Why didn’t he believe she had stomach cancer when he saw her spitting blood? She was clearly in so much pain. Why did he think she was faking it?
Hamish clutched his stomach, his body trembling with pain. He had a high tolerance for pain, enduring it without a sound, but now he couldn’t help it and spat again.
His stomach convulsed, and what he spat out was either blood or bile, burning his throat. His eyes reddened, thick and sticky blood forming small red puddles on the ground, accompanied by a strong stench.
Hamish grinned madly, “So stomach pains are this unbearable… spitting blood really feels like losing half of one’s life… Elisa has been enduring this for all these years…”
Hamish felt as if his stomach was being torn apart, each mouthful of blood making his throat unbearably bitter, as if crushed Chinese medicine was stuck in his throat, impossible to swallow or spit out.
“Elisa, who fears bitterness, how did she endure it?”
He suddenly remembered a sentence Elisa had once said to him.
-“Hamish, I’m so afraid of pain, yet I dared to love you. How have you treated me?”
Yes, how had he treated her? Hamish covered his sore, teary eyes, crying until he was breathless.
For all those years, when he drank and socialized late, Elisa worried he would get stomach problems. She would make him sober-up soup and bring him hot milk, warming him from the inside out.
And how had he treated Elisa? When Elisa carefully brought him hot water, asking him to drink it, he would splash it in her face because he didn’t like it.
He knew she was afraid of pain, yet he had hit her, slapped her, made her kneel in a pile of broken glass, her knees oozing blood, and even forced himself on her in bed just to vent his anger.
But Elisa never complained. Afraid of pain, she was also someone accustomed to enduring it, dragging her defeated body but still treating him well the next day.
He missed Elisa, a feeling he had never experienced before. He wanted to go back and find her, to accompany her… he wanted to be good to Elisa from now on.
Hamish staggered to his feet, opened the door, and collided with Atonal. Atonal was startled at his blood-covered appearance.
“Mr. Hamish, what happened to you? I’ll get a doctor for you, just wait…”
Hamish seemed not to hear, leaning against the wall as he moved unsteadily forward. His vision blurred, and at times, he felt the world plunge into darkness, with only a glimmer of light ahead, and Elisa standing at the end, reaching out to him.
He walked over, wanting to grasp the light, but he couldn’t reach it.
“I want Elisa. I want her. I haven’t taken her to see the snow this winter. I want to go back and braid her hair, give her the new scarf I’ve knitted. Do you know where she is?” Hamish’s eyes were bloodshot as he urgently grabbed Atonal’s hand.
“Can you tell me where Elisa is? I want to find her. She doesn’t want me anymore, and I can’t find her…”
Reaping what he sowed, only realizing a person’s worth after losing them. It was well-deserved.
The feeling of stomach pain had slowly numbed, but because he had been in the cold room for the past few days, his body, now subjected to a sudden shock, was dizzy and disoriented, as if in a state of limbo between fire and ice.
He licked his dry lips. Atonal wanted to assist him but was pushed aside. Hamish held his stomach, bent over, and moved forward step by step.
Watching Hamish’s swaying figure from behind, Atonal, with a worried look on his face, hurried to inform Old Burns about Hamish’s condition.
“Old Burns, I’m worried about Mr. Hamish…”
Old Burns said solemnly, “There’s nothing to worry about. A man may go mad, but he won’t die. I’ll have Tobias give him a good jolt; he’ll be fine.”
Atonal sighed inwardly: I hope so, but Hamish didn’t look okay, having coughed up so much blood.
Hamish left without his coat, wearing only a sweater, yet he felt no cold, for inside he was colder than the outside.
Seeing him come out, the driver got out of the car and opened the back door. “Mr. Burns, are you alright?”
“Take me back. I want to go back to see Elisa,” Hamish kept muttering this phrase.
The driver helped him into the car, closed the door gently, and drove back steadily. It was nearly four o’clock when they returned.
Upon seeing the car return, Tobias frowned. It was earlier than he had expected. But it had been several hours; Ivan and the others should have arranged for Elisa’s body by now, right?
Hamish got out of the car, rejecting the driver’s support, and stumbled back into the house.
“Mr. Burns…” Tobias spoke up, but Hamish didn’t even look at him, heading straight towards the cold room, carrying with him a chilling gust of wind.
“Elisa, I’m back…” Hamish suddenly fell silent. He had thought that upon his return, he would see Elisa lying in her crystal coffin as usual. But the vast ice room was empty, devoid of the crystal coffin and, more importantly, Elisa. Fear surged through him, piercing his body, and he leaned against the cold wall.
For a moment, he thought he had entered the wrong room. Otherwise, why would the perfectly fine coffin and the person inside it be missing?
Tobias stood behind him and said, “Mr. Burns, while you were away, the authorities came and took Mrs. Burns away.”
Hamish turned around, grabbed Tobias’ collar, and yelled furiously, “Didn’t I tell you to take good care of her? Why did you let them take her away? Why!”