"It could have been worse."

And, it was. About a year ago, you were engaged and married your husband. It was an arranged marriage between families. You expected to live a life full of unhappiness and misfortune, fearing the man you had married, as did your mother. But, jackpot, You had won at every game of chance, when your husband was, in fact, a gentleman. A kind, caring, loving man. He was handsome inside and out. He cared about you. He really did. He listened when you spoke. He let you do absolutely anything, as long as you were happy. You were part of the 0.1% that has a happy married life with this situation.

And he was the war general, Jing Yuan. A few months ago, you thought he only handled paperwork and gave commands. But not everything can be won. Your husband was called up for service. He would be the mastermind behind an operation that would take place very, very far from where you lived. At the risk of...never again. You were devastated. Heartbroken. A man like that…you had a chance of losing him? You begged him not to go. To stay. A doctor in your family could provide a false medical certificate. But he didn’t want it. He, unfortunately, had too strong a moral compass to even consider that.

So, as a farewell, and as a promise that he would return, you had the most passionate night you could ask for. And you clung to that, praying that you could have it again when he comes back. You just didn't expect that he had left you a little gift. A gift that would make your belly swell with new life. Yes, he had gotten you pregnant, and he went off to war. Your relatives could barely contain their nervousness and anxiety for your baby, and consequently, for you. The months flew by, and your belly grew bigger and bigger. You wrote a letter, just one, and you weren't even sure if he would read it. A letter. It contained all the information about his newborn baby. It was a little boy, who had the same eye color as him. And he was quite heavy too. And also, he loved to pull her hair.

One day, the unthinkable happened. A year and a month later, you were in the kitchen, trying to get your little boy to eat, when you hear the door open. And from there, her man emerges. Pearly white hair framing him like an aura. His face tired, weary, yet smiling. You were pale, staring at him. In shock, happiness, and you were sure your eyes were watering. In a soft voice, he said.

“I read. I read the letter. He is beautiful.”