Bezaubernde Augen

Kapitel 1

witch

I am a witch who has lived for hundreds of years and seen through the vicissitudes of life. Originally, I used witchcraft to preserve my youth and life simply because I was afraid of death. But the longer I live, the more I realize that life is nothing more than a glass of stale water to me, not only bland but also not fresh.

Drifting from one city to another, living a life of concealment, I was initially always worried about being discovered. But I eventually realized that people no longer paid as much attention to those around them as they used to; you could tell just by looking at their indifferent eyes. So I settled down in the city and opened a small flower shop to pass the time. And the flower shop was named "Drugs."

I have no friends, and my identity and life don't allow me to. It's not that I'm not lonely, but what can I do? To gain some things, you must lose others. Just like hundreds of years ago, when I urged my boyfriend to join me in the pursuit of immortality, he firmly refused. I could only watch him grow old and die, life after life, each time ending in a tragic breakup. That's something I can't understand, and all I can do is live on, wait for his next life, and hope that one day I can move him.

It was almost evening, and I had sold most of the flowers. Feeling disheartened, I prepared to close up shop. A woman rushed in, her eyes red and swollen, her voice hoarse: "A bouquet of red roses, thank you."

There were only a few withered roses left in the barrel. I said apologetically, "Look, these roses aren't very fresh. How about we replace them with other flowers? These lilies are quite nice though."

She sighed, but remained stubborn: "I only want red roses."

Although I wouldn't call myself kind, I couldn't possibly sell flowers like that to a customer. Suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind—hadn't I kept some roses for myself? I quickly asked the customer to wait a moment, went inside, and took the roses out of the crystal vase. The flowers were fresh and delicate, half-open, so shy and beautiful.

She gratefully accepted it, paying as she did so, tears streaming down her face: "Thank you, Hancheng will definitely like it."

Seoul? That seems to be a man's name. I casually asked, "Is it for your boyfriend?"

She gave a sorrowful smile, leaving me only with a heavy silhouette. The shop door closed, the doorbell still ringing incessantly. I didn't care; other people's affairs were none of my concern, why bother with curiosity? I just needed to live my own life.

I thought the woman was just a passerby, but to my surprise, she soon became a regular at the flower shop, arriving promptly at 5:30 every day to buy flowers, always red roses, ignoring all other blooms. So, as time went on, I would make a point of saving a bouquet of red roses for her.

One drizzly day in April, business was slow. I was yawning and almost fell asleep at the counter. The doorbell woke me up. It was her again. I hadn't seen her for a day, and she looked haggard with lifeless eyes. She forced a smile: "A bouquet of white roses, thank you."

I was stunned for a moment, wondering if I had misheard: "What?"

"A bouquet of white roses, thank you." She repeated patiently, then turned away to secretly wipe her tears.

She was a special customer, which piqued my curiosity: "Why did you change to white roses today?"

"He's dying..." she said, breaking down in tears.

Oh, I see. Women are always prone to heartbreak, thinking of their former lovers, whom they could not be with in each lifetime, and they cannot help but feel sad and heartbroken.

"I'm willing to pay any price, as long as Han Cheng can live, but..."

Hearing her say that, I was moved and pressed her for more information: "Are you truly sincere? Are you willing to sacrifice yourself as long as the other person lives?"

"Yes, I would rather sacrifice myself if possible." Seeing the determination in her eyes, I felt as if I could see him solemnly saying to me, "No, Xiao Luo, I don't want immortality. Birth, aging, sickness, and death are ordained by God, and I am willing to accept them." A thought flashed through my mind, and suddenly my heart, which had been stagnant for a long time, seemed to start beating again.

In a split second, I made a decision, a decision that went against my initial vow to remain uninvolved. Looking up, I smiled slightly: "I can help you."

"Help me with what?" she asked me, somewhat bewildered.

"Save your lover."

A look of doubt and amusement flashed across her eyes. "Even the doctors and professors at the hospital can't do anything about it, what can you possibly do?"

"Because I am a witch," I said calmly.

She stared wide-eyed in disbelief. I grew impatient: "I'm losing patience. Are you going to save her or not?"

"Are you really a witch?" She looked me up and down.

I closed the door behind me and led her into the inner room. "Come in with me, and you'll see."

The inner room, which no one had entered, was filled with candles and various herbs. She was so astonished that she could hardly speak: "You..."

"Saving people is something I'm very good at, and saving your loved one is not difficult either, but it requires sacrificing yourself. Can you do that?"

Without hesitation, she replied, "Yes."

In the hundreds of years of my life, I have helped two women. One gave her a drug to win back her unfaithful lover, and the other paid a high price for her beauty. But neither of those women met a good end; they both died tragically, while she had to pay the ultimate price to save her lover's life.

I was focused on preparing the potion, and at that moment I felt like the hateful witch in the mermaid story. My movements froze involuntarily. "Your tears."

---Magpie Bridge Fairy

Reply [4]: It went very smoothly, and the crystal tears fell into the bowl, “your blood.”

Without hesitation, she bit her index finger and dripped her blood into the liquid. Wisps of smoke rose from the bowl, gradually enveloping the entire room, and the originally murky, paste-like liquid transformed into a clear, transparent medicinal broth.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, he'll recover after drinking it, but you'll lose your life in three days. Do you want to reconsider?"

"No," she said firmly. I carefully poured the medicine into a glass bottle and handed it to her.

“In return, your soul will belong to me,” I proposed the terms of the exchange.

She smiled faintly, "Making a deal with the devil? But I'm willing."

As I watched her leave, I wondered with great interest how the ending would unfold, and whether it would surprise me.

Three days later, I received her soul as I had wished, a soul that was both sorrowful and content.

She told me she had no regrets, and I smiled calmly, saying nothing. The copper basin in the inner room always held half a basin of water, so I could see what I wanted to see without leaving the room. Since her arrival, the water mirror had become her exclusive possession; she gazed so sadly at the figures reflected in it.

"Han Cheng has been discharged from the hospital," she said.

Han Cheng misses her, she said.

Han Cheng was crying for her, she said.

...

My ears were filled with the phrase "How is Han Cheng?" and "How is Han Cheng?" After hearing it so many times, I couldn't help but get annoyed and scolded, "You'll regret this someday."

Startled, she pursed her lips and remained silent, hiding to the side, still carefully gazing at her lover's image in the water mirror. I couldn't help but sigh.

Gradually, another woman appeared by Han Cheng's side—a gentle and skilled woman. I observed coldly, noticing her pain. She had saved her lover, sacrificing herself, and now he was about to start a new life. How could she not be heartbroken?

She forced a smile at me: "He still has a bright future ahead of him, of course he can't let me be lonely for the rest of his life."

Are you trying to fool me? A witch who's been around for hundreds of years, what can't she see through? I scoffed.

The water mirror truthfully revealed everything she wanted to see. Finally, one day, I heard her crying and shouting, "I regret it! I shouldn't have saved him! I shouldn't have saved him!" The water mirror swayed slightly and chaotically. I glimpsed a lively wedding scene inside, where a newlywed couple was smiling and raising their glasses in a toast.

What I had foreseen finally happened. Love was nothing more than this. She tugged at my sleeve and wept bitterly, "Witch, I regret it, I really regret it."

She yawned lazily, pretending not to hear, and sat down to the side. Out of the corner of my eye, I could clearly see her gritting her teeth. Jealousy could make a woman disregard everything: "I saved you for nothing, Lin Hancheng. You're living a carefree life while I suffer all alone."

"But it was your own choice back then, so how can you blame others?" I reminded her.

"Witch, please, let Han Cheng die, please."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud: "You were the one who wanted him to live, and you were the one who wanted him to die. If you knew that, why did you do it in the first place?"

She was immediately embarrassed, her eyes pleading. I stared at her for a moment, and finally softened. Fine, fine, I'll give in to her. The outcome was exactly what I expected.

Taking Han Cheng's life was a simple matter; a small ceremony was enough to cause his old illness to relapse, leading to his death within half a month. On the day Han Cheng passed away, I released her, saying, "Go well. You have already wasted this life; you must cherish it in the next."

With tears welling up in her eyes and a hint of shame, she asked me if she had done something wrong.

"The beginning was wrong, and the ending was wrong too, but there's no chance to make amends in this lifetime." I looked at her with pity.

She was heartbroken.

"It turns out that defying fate ultimately didn't end well."

With a sigh, she finally left, but I felt as if struck by a heavy blow, suddenly realizing that my actions had gone against the will of Heaven. That's why I live alone in this world, that's why I repeatedly missed my lover—it was all my own doing.

A week later, as I was bending over arranging the flowers, the doorbell rang. As I stood up, I suddenly froze. It was him, my lover from hundreds of years ago, whom I had met again in this life.

"I want a bouquet of lilies." He gave me that familiar smile.

Suppressing my unease, I trembled as I selected a few of the most beautiful lilies, carefully wrapped them up, and gave them to him. He thanked me politely, paid, and turned to leave.

"Wait!" I suddenly exclaimed.

He stopped, looking at me for a moment, and then suddenly asked, "Do we know each other? I feel like I've seen you before."

Yes, in your past life, and the life before that... I answered silently in my heart. But what I said aloud was: "No, we don't know each other."

Watching him walk out of the flower shop without looking back, I slumped into a chair, dejected. In this life, I would no longer be a part of his. The rebellious witch had finally given up her illusions. Let each go their own way. Without me, his life would surely be happier and more fulfilling. As for me, I was just a lonely witch in this world, living day by day until the day I grew impatient with life.

---Magpie Bridge Fairy

Reply [5]: Some missed opportunities keep happening, but because of the ignorance of the parties involved, they are not regrettable. Some tragedies continue from the past life to the future life, while some stories have no ending. The witch is old and her memory is bad, so many things are forgotten, while some are deliberately not remembered.

In a field covered with yellow flowers, two little girls emerged hand in hand from the blossoms, their heads and bodies covered in golden petals, their smiles brighter than the flowers themselves.

"Xiao Luo, we're best friends, we'll never be apart, okay?" Qingyan's dark eyes were filled with joy.

Without hesitation, the little witch extended her pinky finger and made a pinky promise with her. For a moment, the two little girls skipped and laughed along the edge of the field, as if the whole world belonged to them.

Smoke, smoke, I had almost forgotten her. Waking from my dream, I noticed tears in the corners of my eyes. I had almost forgotten that the witch had once been young, and had childhood playmates. After that falling out, I thought I had completely banished her from my memory, but who knew that my dream would bring her back.

My childhood was lonely and desolate. I was an outsider, rejected by everyone. Only my neighbor, Qingyan, was always by my side, regardless of other people's opinions. She was small in stature but bravely scolded the naughty children who threw stones at me. She would always think of saving some of her delicious food for me, and when I cried, she would always comfort me like an adult: "Xiao Luo, be good, don't cry."

I am grateful to Qingyan; in my heart, she has firmly secured her place among family, irreplaceable. While the other women were learning needlework and going out to play, I secretly hid in my room, concocting sleeping potions according to the instructions in the book. I didn't hide it from Qingyan, but she was always horrified when she saw it, advising me to behave like a proper girl and not to dabble in these strange things all day. How could she understand? The little witch's ambitions were far beyond the comprehension of ordinary people. I always ignored her advice, offering a few perfunctory words and letting it go.

At eleven, Qingyan's needlework was renowned in the area. At eleven, the witch He Xiaoluo concocted poison.

At twelve, Qingyan consigned her embroidery to a shop, and demand far exceeded supply. At twelve, the witch longed to fly and practiced spells and concocted potions every night.

At thirteen, Qingyan's parents passed away. At thirteen, the witch began concocting elixirs of immortality.

At fourteen, Qingyan had grown into a graceful and virtuous young woman. Her white jade dress was embroidered with a half-open lotus, and the lotus petals swayed gracefully as she walked. She spoke to people shyly and timidly, causing the matchmakers in the neighborhood to practically break down the threshold. But the witch was engrossed in her potions and had no time to care about such things.

That night, the moonlight was perfect, and the air was filled with the fragrance of osmanthus. Qingyan gave me a pleated skirt and solemnly said to me, "Xiao Luo, you must take good care of yourself from now on."

I looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Qingyan, are you leaving me?"

Qingyan's cheeks were flushed, and she nodded gently: "I'm getting married. I'll marry him next month when he comes to propose."

Like a bolt from the blue, I couldn't believe it. My friend, who had always been by my side and whom I thought would be with me forever, was also leaving me. Once Qingyan is gone, I won't be the only one left in this world.

"Qingyan, you're still young, don't rush into marriage." I tugged at her sleeve and pleaded with her relentlessly.

She couldn't help but chuckle: "Look at you, when will you finally realize this? The Ruyu and Ruhua sisters next door both got married at twelve, and Yunyan from the east street is already a mother." As she spoke, she sighed: "Now that my parents are dead, I'm all alone, so getting married is the only proper thing to do."

I noticed Qingyan's loneliness for the first time. Under the moonlight, her delicate eyebrows were furrowed with a hint of sorrow. She must be reluctant to part with me too.

"Qingyan, become a witch with me. Once I finish concocting the elixir of immortality, you can drink it and escape birth, aging, and death." My eyes shone with excitement.

But my suggestion was just a joke to Qingyan. She laughed so hard she almost fell over, and only managed to hold back her laughter as she pointed her slender finger at my forehead: "Xiao Luo, when will you grow up? How can a person not die? Otherwise, he would be a monster."