My master always said that ailments of the heart are the hardest to cure, for they run long and deep. You didn't believe it. You found someone you thought could cure you: Princess Taiping. Her daughter.
The Princess said, "You and Master Wuliang are just like me and the Empress." You caught the faintest glimpse of her mother in her, and threw yourself right in.
Yuzhen, you've always been smarter than me, a better swordswoman, stronger of heart. So why were you content to go from wielder of swords to a sword wielded by another?
That snowy winter night, when the world was a void of white, you staggered out of the Princess's manor, drenched in blood. I put so much medicine on your wounds, threw so many words at you. Words of pain, words of anger. Words meant to hurt. Words of no avail.
But you just hung your head in silence.
I knew then I couldn't cure you. So when the snow stopped, I left.
The winter sun burns like fire, shining on all the lovers and grievances in the world. But, Yuzhen, it no longer shines on me.
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