He Forced Me to Kowtow 10,000 Times on the Snowy Mountain Chapter 07

He Forced Me to Kowtow 10,000 Times on the Snowy Mountain Chapter 07

I flipped the diagnosis slip over and over in my hands.

The edges were frayed, the creases worn thin and ready to tear. I had no idea how Rian got it, tucked

between the pages of his ledger, squeezed right in with all his black-market plasma donation dates.

He’d known all along.

He’d known Liora’s leg injury was never my fault. He’d known the guilt I’d carried for three years

was built on nothing but a lie.

Still, he’d never taken this paper to Hale.

It wouldn’t have changed a thing.

He understood better than anyone. Hale would never believe a broke man selling plasma to get by,

nor would he believe me-the sister who’d knelt in the snow in penance for three years.

Soren scanned the diagnosis slip and said nothing. He simply slipped it into a waterproof document

sleeve and sealed it shut.

“Keep this. You might need it someday.”

I shook my head. “I won’t.”

“Rynne.”

“I’m not using this to confront him.”

Soren watched me quietly for a few seconds. “Alright.”

He didn’t push me.

That was always the quiet ease between us. He never made my choices for me, never acted like I needed his permission for anything.

But the truth didn’t stay hidden for long.

On the third day, Hale’s assistant called.

I ignored it. Soren answered instead.

The assistant said Hale had found a duplicate diagnosis slip in Rian’s rental apartment. He’d already taken it to confront Liora.

I turned my phone off and went to light prayer candles for Rian.

Behind the rescue station stood a tiny abandoned chapel, only one single worship hall. The walls, were peeling, the paint flaking off the old crucifix above the empty altar, but the devotional candle

rack was new-Soren had fixed it the year before.

I propped Rian’s photo against the rack and knelt on the stone ground, watching the flame/sway

back and forth in the cross wind.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind me. Then a dull, heavy thud as someone dropped to their knees on

the stone floor.

I didn’t turn around.

“Rynne.”

It was Hale. His voice was rough and broken, nothing like the cold, unyielding man he’d always

been.

“Liora’s leg necrosis came from prolonged frostbite. She hid her symptoms and let her treatment lapse. The diagnosis states everything clearly. I’ve checked the original medical files.”

The rack flame flickered sharply.

“Three years ago, she cut the safety rope around your waist to save herself. You nearly got swept away by the snow current, but you crawled back through the snow to save her.”

His voice trembled.

“The rope you cut was only an auxiliary line wrapped around her leg. If you hadn’t cut it, she

would’ve lost the entire limb. You were saving her.”

I straightened the wick gently.

“She was afraid I’d find out she’d cut your rope first. So she lied first, dumped all the blame on

you.’

“I… back then, I just believed her.”

He trailed off, unable to speak another word.

A long silence fell over the shrine.

Another dull thud echoed on the stone floor.

Once. Twice. Three times.

He was prostrating.

He slammed his forehead hard against the floor. By the third prostration, his skin split open, tiny beads of blood trickling down his brow.

“I’ll finish the rest of your penance prostrations. Every last one.”

I finally looked back.

He knelt before the crucifix, blood seeping from his forehead, his knees pressed hard against the rough stone edges. He looked exactly like me these past three years.

I stared at him, feeling no relief, no satisfaction.

Nothing at all. Just hollow.

“Atonement isn’t about making you suffer. It’s about making you remember what you did wrong.

His body went rigid.

Those were the exact words he’d used on me.

On the circumambulation trail, by the campfire, every single time I knelt down to atone.

For three years, he’d hidden behind that sentence to judge me coldly.

“Then take all the time you need to remember.’

A hoarse breath fell from his lips.

“Rynne…”

“Don’t call my name.”

I stood up and brushed the dust off my knees.

“I called for you countless times before, and you never turned back for me.”

The rack’s flame wavered in the wind, but it never went out.

I tucked Rian’s photo into my pocket and walked out of the abandoned chapel.

Behind me, the sound of his prostrations never stopped.

One, two, three.

On the hundredth full prostration, the noise fell silent all at once.

Soren was waiting for me at the entrance. He peeked inside briefly, then turned back to me.

“He’s passed out.”

“Have someone carry him away.

I zipped my worn shell jacket all the way to the top and stepped into the mountain’s bitter night wind.

The wind was sharp, stinging my cheeks. But the jacket kept me warm.

Rian had picked this one himself, and it fit perfectly.