Savior In A Wok Chinese Drama

Merida stared as the coffin was lowered slowly into the hollow, muddy earth. It was finally the end, for him and for her.

Merida had hoped the sun would shine the brightest on his funeral, that her eyes would be dry and her lips would crack in a smile, but it was not. The showers of the rain trickled with the saltiness of her tears and her lips were clamped shut in a tight line.

She had no reason to cry even though it was her father's death but she could not stop the tears flowing down her face as sand was poured into the pit. When he was alive, she had cursed him all the time. She had wished he'd died in a freak accident, drank himself to his death, and fallen from the top of a building to a bed of nails and glass. She had wished his sins caught up with him and that it tore his heart out of his chest but none of that happened. Now that he was actually gone, after his breath had stopped from a mere heart disease, she wasn't sure if her tears were for him or for her.

People say your life flashes before your eyes on your last breaths. She was sure her father had felt every pain, heard every word and seen every tear he'd made her shed, but his last words were still mean. Some people just never learn and her father was one of them

The silence in the field amplified the sound of the raindrops on the ground and she tried to distract herself with the sounds but all she could hear was the beat of her heart and her father's last words.

"I've always hated you. You, your mother and your sister. You made living miserable."

He'd spat out the words in a shaky voice even though she was the only one sitting by his death bed, even though she was the one who had lived with him, even after all the things he had put her through.

Merida realized her tears were for him and for herself. For the times he had pushed her to the edge of nothingness, for the times he had dragged her by the hair to misery, because she was free of it. But she also cried because he was her father and even though he was the worst, he did not abandon her. Now, life was like it was years ago and she was lonely. She had thought with age, one would get less lonelier but the silence that enveloped her reminded her of what her reality was. She was a twenty-three-year-old woman who had no dreams, no peace, no love, a woman who had lost in all ways.

After the hole had been filled up, Merida sighed and trudged off the field to a bench underneath a shade, watching as the rain pelted down on the stone placed above his grave. He might have been the worst person, but he at least knew to plan his funeral before his death. Merida was grateful she didn't have to pay for all this from her pocket.

She was still brooding when she felt a presence behind her. Her gaze immediately left the scene before her to the men who stood behind her. There were three of them but only one had sadness drawn on his face as hers.

"The rest of us send our condolences Miss Merida." The biggest one amongst them, Mr John, said. She recognized him more than the rest. He was one of her father's closest drinking friends, the same man who would bring her dead-drunk father to the door and ring the bell.

"Thank you," She bowed her head slowly before glancing at the other men. "He just got laid, you can go to pay your last respects," She stuttered.

"We came here for you actually," The bigger man answered, offering her a seat on the bench.

"M-me? Why?" She asked, slowly settling into the bench.

"I'll spare you the shenanigans and cut straight to the chase. Your father owed our boss money," He stared at her intently, raising his brows slightly to emphasize the money, "A lot of money actually."

"My-"

"And we've been asked to retrieve it. Since he is dead and cannot pay, the debt falls on you, his next of kin."

"You're here for money?" She blurted out the question. "Go to him then, dig out his body and do whatever you wish with it. Why do I have to fear that burden?" Her voice raised in anger.

He looked at her softly before speaking again. Her lips and hands were trembling and he was being a big jerk doing this at her father's funeral but what needed to be done must be done.

"Listen dear, I could forget the money if it was mine, but it's not. It is for my boss and that man is wicked. I'm sorry to do this to you now but I must carry out whatever order he gives." He answered her

Merida looked at the man speechlessly, a stray tear slipping down her eyes. She hated how vulnerable she was at this moment but that was all she ever was, vulnerable, weak and timid.

"How much d-did he owe?" She asked,

"Over a hundred thousand dollars." He whispered knowing what her reaction would be. Almost immediately, her eyes shot open, twice wider than it was as her mouth began incomprehensible words.

"W-why? What did he use the money for? Gamble?"

She saw the small nod of his head before he kept it down. Anger coursed through her body like light zaps starting from her head to her fingertips.

You mess with me even from the grave, she thought to herself, her body trembling from the cold and hatred seeping through her body.

"Take it all," She cried out, crumpling to her knees, "Take his clothes, his shoes, you can sell his body to get the money. Take everything that he has and leave me alone." Her tears came rushing down like...

"We'll come back, let's leave you here for now."

"Don't come back, j-just take it all. The house, take it away." She cried and sobs raked through her.

John faced the men standing studiously behind him, waving at them to give him a minute alone with the girl. Turned away in obedience and John faced her once more.