Chapter Thirteen · She Began to Doubt Her Own Hatred
1146 Words
Suyan sat in her room with the document until dawn.
She didn’t light a lamp. She simply read those lines again and again in the gradually whitening light from the window —
“Su Lan’s signature was obtained under duress.”
“Three days after signing, Su Lan and his entire clan were executed.”
“This is top secret. Known only to the twelve signatories of this order.”
Her ancestor — the Thirteenth Island’s clan chief, Su Lan — was not a traitor. He had been coerced. He signed that name to protect his people, but they were executed anyway.
What did this mean?
It meant the story she’d been told her whole life — “the Thirteenth Island was destroyed because they tried to use tidal power to control the entire archipelago” — was a lie.
It meant her enemy was not “the evil Thirteenth Island,” but “the coalition of twelve islands that fabricated lies to justify a massacre.”
But this raised another question —
If her ancestor was coerced, why had the twelve islands forced him to sign?
Why not simply destroy the Thirteenth Island without his involvement?
Suyan thought for a long time and finally found a possible answer.
Because — they needed a “legitimate” reason.
If one island acted alone to destroy the Thirteenth Island, the others might question it. But if the twelve-island coalition acted together, and the Thirteenth Island’s own chief signed the order, the whole affair would appear as “a collective decision of the twelve islands,” and the chief would be seen as “someone who agreed to sacrifice his own island.”
They needed his signature.
Not for execution — for legitimacy.
They turned his signature into a banner — a banner to cover the blood.
After dawn, Suyan made a decision.
She would show the document to Omid.
She didn’t know how he would react. She didn’t know if he would believe it. She didn’t even know if he might destroy it to protect his family’s name.
But she felt she had to.
Because —
If she didn’t show him, she would be hiding something from him.
And she didn’t want to hide things from him.
She didn’t know where this feeling came from, but she knew that a strange bond had formed between her and Omid — not trust, not understanding, but something deeper, something like we’re both groping through the same dark tunnel.
She needed him.
She was unwilling to admit it, but she needed him.
When Suyan found Omid, he was in his study handling official business.
She knocked and entered. He looked more exhausted than usual — dark circles under his eyes, pale complexion, as if he hadn’t slept well in a long time.
“What is it?” Omid raised his head, saw her, and his brow furrowed slightly. “You look —”
“I have something to show you.” Suyan cut him off.
She walked to his desk and placed the document before him.
Omid looked down, and his expression changed instantly — something Suyan couldn’t interpret. Surprise? Pain? Or perhaps he had expected this all along.
He picked up the document and read it from beginning to end.
Then he set it down, closed his eyes, and said nothing for a long time.
Suyan stood there, watching him, waiting.
After about five minutes — or longer, she wasn’t sure — Omid finally opened his eyes.
“Where did you find this?”
“The underground area.” Suyan said. “Zhongli let me in.”
Omid’s expression shifted.
“Zhongli — he knew this document existed?”
“He said he’s always known.”
Omid fell silent.
His fingers tapped the desk, as if thinking. Suyan noticed his hand was trembling slightly — not from fear, but from something deeper, as if a great weight had settled on him.
“This document —” Omid finally spoke, his voice low, almost talking to himself, “I’ve been searching for it for a long time.”
“Twenty years.”
“I thought it had been destroyed.”
“I thought — I would never know the truth.”
Suyan watched him, not knowing what to say.
“My great-grandfather,” Omid said, raising his head to meet her eyes, “his signature was first on this document.”
“He initiated this murder.”
“He organized the operation. He coerced Su Lan into signing. He ordered the execution of Su Lan and his entire clan.”
“He is — the root of all your suffering.”
Suyan’s breath caught.
“Do you hate me?”
Omid’s voice was calm, but underneath Suyan heard something deeper — something like I am ready to accept any answer.
She looked at him, looked into his eyes — those eyes that were usually cold and unreadable, now clear, as if something had been stripped away to reveal the truest part underneath.
She should hate him.
Her reason told her she should hate him.
His family destroyed hers. His ancestors killed hers. The blood in his veins was incompatible with hers.
But —
She found she couldn’t.
She thought of the yuan lan flower he placed in the sea on the last night of every month.
She thought of the way he looked at her — that I see myself in you expression.
She thought of what he’d said in the moonlight — “I don’t know if I’m protecting a piece, or losing my own heart.”
She thought of all the things he’d done that seemed cold but were actually protecting her.
She should hate him.
But she couldn’t.
“I don’t know.” She finally said, her voice soft, almost talking to herself. “I should hate you.”
“But I can’t.”
Omid looked at her for a long time.
Then he smiled — a bitter smile, as if mocking himself, or perhaps mocking fate.
“When I was twenty,” he said, “I discovered some letters my great-grandfather left behind. Those letters mentioned a ‘wiped-out island’ — an island that didn’t exist in any official record.”
“I began investigating. It took me ten years to find traces. I found my great-grandfather’s diary, found some files backed up before destruction, found —”
He paused.
“Found the truth.”
“I knew the Thirteenth Island had been destroyed by us. I knew my family were sinners. I spent twenty years trying to find evidence that could prove it, evidence that could overturn the lie.”
“But this document —” he looked at the paper on his desk, “I could never find it.”
"I thought it was destroyed. I thought the truth would never be uncovered
…(truncated)…
- Writer
