Wednesday, May 1st, 2019.
Under the gentle morning sunlight, Tehimosin was diligently tending to his familiar garden work. Suddenly, a familiar vibration ran down his spine—the red thread had appeared again.
This time, he did not rush off immediately. Remembering how frightened the little girl had been the last time, Tehimosin stopped what he was doing and went to find Nebelselle. He wanted to make sure she would feel at ease even when he was not home.
“Nebelselle, I have to go out for a while,” Tehimosin said softly, his eyes gentle. “The thread is guiding me again. We’re about to welcome another new member.”
Nebelselle looked up and gave a bright smile: “Please go, Master. Come back to me soon!”
With a nod in place of a promise, Tehimosin dashed away. The vivid red thread slipped through the leaves, leading him deep into a quiet ancient forest. But instead of a human, the endpoint of the thread wrapped tenderly around a tiny sapling stretching upward from the bed of decaying leaves.
Tehimosin stood still for a long moment, an amused surprise rising within him: “This time it’s a tree? So new companions aren’t limited to human forms—any object can be granted life.”
From that day on, Tehimosin spent time in the forest every day to care for the little sprout. He couldn’t help but wonder which treasure from the old chest had transformed into this lush green sapling.
Three months later—Thursday, August 1st, 2019.
The tiny sprout had grown tall, its foliage thick and full of vitality. Feeling the time had come, Tehimosin brought Nebelselle to see it.
“This is the tree I’ve been taking care of these past months,” Tehimosin introduced.
Nebelselle was stunned, her eyes wide in amazement. Its pure beauty seemed to enchant her soul.
“It’s truly beautiful…” she exclaimed in admiration. “Master, you must have put so much dedication into it, right?”
Seeing the result of his effort, Tehimosin smiled with pride: “Thank you, Nebelselle.”
“Do you plan to bring it back to our garden, Master?” Nebelselle asked softly.
Tehimosin looked at the rustling leaves and gently shook his head: “No. It chose to grow here, so it must have some meaning. Let’s leave it in this place.”
As the sunset began to fall, Nebelselle reminded him gently: “It’s getting late. Let’s go home, Master. There are still many things waiting for us.”
Tehimosin nodded, and the two walked away, leaving behind the mysterious living sprout quietly growing in the fading light.
Chapter 2: The Fire Phoenix of the Ancient Forest
Friday, August 10th, 2019.
Not far from where the green sprout was stretching upward lay the territory of the Wikunthari tribe—a community living apart from the modern world, where outdated customs and deep-rooted superstitions clung even more tightly than the roots of the forest.
That day, the sounds of axes and saws echoed across the entire area. Ancient trees fell one after another under the merciless destruction of the Wikunthari people. When the cold steel blades were about to strike the tree that Tehimosin had poured his heart into nurturing, a wave of agonizing telepathy struck straight into his mind.
“Save… save me… Master!”
Tehimosin appeared like a phantom, stepping in front of the raised axe.
“Stop!” he shouted. “This is a tree I planted and cared for every day. Why are you destroying the forest to this extent?”
The sun-darkened men, gripping their weapons tightly, glared at him with hostility. One of them stepped forward and pointed at a young pair—barely thirteen years old—standing nearby: “We’re cutting trees to build a house for this newlywed couple. That’s the law of our tribe.”
“Married at thirteen? They’re still just children. Why don’t you let them go to school?” Tehimosin was shocked.
The man sneered: “Does school make money? Or does it just waste money on city teachers? Here, we need labor—we need more children to work.”
Tehimosin clenched his fists. He understood that for minds locked in backwardness, words at this moment would blow away like the wind. Without a shred of hesitation, he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around the vibrant tree, and used his own body as a shield.
“If you want to cut it down, step over my dead body first!”
Rage exploded among the men, and they swung their axes and machetes violently at him. But something strange happened. When the steel blades struck his skin, they only made a dry metallic clang before rebounding. Thanks to his ability to become “immune” to weapons that had once injured him, his body had become harder than diamond before the cold steel.
Seeing that they could do nothing to this “monster,” the Wikunthari tribe grudgingly walked away. The chief turned back, eyes filled with malice: “Fine. We won’t cut it.”
But their selfish nature—if we can’t have it, no one else should—led them to a crueler act. That night, under the cover of darkness, the leaders of the tribe secretly drenched the green foliage in Eucalyptus oil and set it ablaze.
The flames roared wildly, devouring every hope. From afar, Tehimosin collapsed in agony as a heartbreaking cry echoed within his mind: “It’s too hot… save me… Master!”
When he arrived, the tree had become a towering torch. Without thinking of his own safety, he plunged into the nearby river.
“Great Flood Dragon!”
A colossal pillar of water shaped like a sacred dragon erupted from the river and crashed onto the blazing flames. The fire died, but the precious Agarwood tree was now reduced to a charred black trunk, releasing a scent so beautiful it ached the heart—the fragrance of sacrifice.
Suddenly, the trunk split open. From within the charred “cocoon,” a girl appeared, her breaths faint amid the drifting gray smoke.
“Thank you… Master… for these past days…” she whispered, her voice fragile like smoke. “Being cared for by you… was the greatest blessing of my life. Before I die… please take me somewhere beautiful… I don’t want to stand in one place anymore…”
Tehimosin lifted her still-warm body and ran toward his flower field—where hundreds of blossoms were blooming under the rising dawn.
“Look, this is my field of flowers.”
The girl smiled, her eyes closing as the first sunlight touched her face. But just as her breath faded, a miracle occurred. Thousands of flowers around them seemed to sense something, stretching out their petals to wrap around her body, pouring into her a powerful stream of life.
The girl opened her eyes—this time no longer as a tree, but reborn in the form of a radiant flower.
Master: Congratulations on your new life. The flowers that wrapped around your body are known as the Princess of Flowers. From now on, I will call you Flower Princess.
Master: HuaZessin—that shall be your name. Hua means “flower” in Chinese, and Prinzessin means “princess” in German.
He gently took her hand and led her toward the small house where Nebelselle was waiting: “Let’s go home. There’s an older sister waiting for you there. She’s very shy, and she spends all her time sewing just to help me…”
Under the radiant rising sun, Tehimosin walked on while telling HuaZessin the story of how he met and protected Nebelselle—beginning a new chapter for their extraordinary family.
Chapter 3: Harmonized Hearts
When Tehimosin led HuaZessin through the doorway, an awkward air filled the room. Nebelselle stood there, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her clothes, her eyes revealing clear uneasiness before the newcomer.
However, in contrast to the older sister’s shyness, HuaZessin stepped forward with an explosive burst of energy. She grabbed Nebelselle’s hand, her bright eyes staring straight into hers.
“Do you want to go out on a little ‘date’ with me?”
“Huh…?” Nebelselle blinked in confusion, unable to react before the newly arrived little sister pulled her straight out into the yard.
Tehimosin watched them go, smiling faintly. He did not interfere but quietly returned to tending the garden, letting the two hearts find their own connection.
Under the cool shade of the trees, HuaZessin began shedding her lively exterior. She told Nebelselle about the brutality of the Wikunthari tribe, about the deep hatred she carried toward humans.
“You know,” HuaZessin began, “the age of us trees is measured by our rings. One ring is one year. For a tree, three months of age is just like an infant taking its very first steps while trying to get used to the world…”
Her voice trembled with resentment. “Yet those people… they wanted to cut me down, even burn a newborn child alive, all because of their selfishness.”
Nebelselle’s heart twisted painfully as she listened. She exclaimed, “That’s so cruel… how could they do that to a ‘baby’?”
Moved by the shared pain, Nebelselle opened her own heart as well: “I’m the same. When I was just born, humans saw me as a monster. The disasters caused by their own actions—they blamed all of them on me. They threw anything they could find at me… knives, hammers, stones… anything that could hurt.”
The two girls sat together for the entire day, and their stories of suffering tightened the bond between them. They realized they shared two profound things: a mutual hatred of humanity’s cruelty, and a deep, wholehearted love for the master who had saved their lives.
In the afternoon, when Tehimosin returned from the garden, Nebelselle gently approached him: “Master, the fabric for sewing is all used up. Could you go buy more for me?”
Seeing the two girls already inseparable, Tehimosin felt immense joy. He invited HuaZessin to join him on the shopping trip. Along the forest path leading to town, he spoke softly:
“HuaZessin, thank you so much.”
"Why are you thanking me?" the Flower Princess asked in surprise.
“I’m truly happy to see the two of you becoming close so quickly.”
HuaZessin pouted playfully: “We’re sisters, Master!”
“Yes, sisters,” Tehimosin nodded, though a trace of sorrow flickered in his eyes. “You know… Nebelselle always says she’s fine, but her tears won’t stop. She hides to cry alone. Whenever she feels lonely, the horrifying memories of her past come flooding back and choke her.”
He paused for a moment, gazing into the distance. “I know crying helps release stress, but she cries too much. Every time I come home, her eyes are swollen red. She avoids looking at me, and her voice becomes so faint…”
“That’s why I changed my daily routine. A day has 24 hours, and instead of working eight hours like before, I now work only four. I spend twelve hours a day with her, so she knows she’ll never be alone again.”
Tehimosin turned to HuaZessin, admiration in his voice: “But you’re really amazing. Nebelselle is terrified of strangers, yet how did you get so close to her so quickly?”
HuaZessin smiled—a smile full of understanding. “That’s because the two of us love the same person, and hate the same thing. That alone is enough to make us family, Master.”
Chapter 4: The Nightmare Called “Human”
The road leading into the bustling city gradually came into view. But instead of the initial excitement, HuaZessin’s steps grew heavier with each passing moment. As the number of people walking by increased, her face suddenly turned pale.
Her heart pounded as if it wanted to burst out of her chest, her breathing became fragmented. A wave of nausea and chills ran down her spine, making her unable to stand. She collapsed to the ground, her trembling hands clutching her head.
“Are you alright?” Tehimosin knelt down in alarm. “If you’re feeling unwell, you should go home right away. Just follow this straight road and you’ll reach a safe place.”
HuaZessin nodded weakly and staggered back, fleeing from the crowd as if escaping from a horde of monsters. Tehimosin watched her small figure disappear with a sigh before continuing into the city to fulfill Nebelselle’s request.
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After choosing the finest fabrics he could find, Tehimosin hurried home. On the quiet road leading back to the house, he was surprised to see a familiar figure waiting.
“HuaZessin? Have you been waiting for me all this time?”
The girl lowered her head, her voice choked: “I’m sorry, Master… I’m useless. I couldn’t go with you…”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Tehimosin placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes full of warmth. “On the contrary, I should be the one thanking you.”
HuaZessin looked up in astonishment. “Why are you thanking me?”
“Thank you for coming into my life at just the right time,” he smiled. “Actually, I have an important request. Would you be willing to take care of the flower garden and the woodland for me?”
HuaZessin’s eyes lit up instantly. “Of course! I’m really happy that I can help you.”
“That’s wonderful. When you finish your work in the garden, go home and spend time with Nebelselle. She must be missing you already.”
“Yes!” HuaZessin replied softly, then hesitated before asking, “But Master… what happened to me earlier? That feeling was terrifying.”
Tehimosin thought for a moment and then replied gently, “That’s Anthropophobia—fear of humans. It’s exactly what Nebelselle has been struggling with. With everything you two have gone through, being afraid of humans is completely natural. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
From that day on, the rhythm of life in the small house gradually settled into a balanced routine.
Nebelselle, the talented fashion designer, spent most of her time at home. Her skillful hands not only made clothes for the group but also created exquisite outfits to sell and earn money for their daily needs.
Meanwhile, the burden on Tehimosin’s shoulders eased significantly thanks to HuaZessin’s help. Having lived a wandering life, he possessed extensive experience in forestry and cultivation. He took charge of tending to the aromatic precious woods and the long-lived fruit trees.
As for HuaZessin, with the instincts of a flower spirit, she was responsible for caring for the vibrant flower garden along with the short-term crops, vegetables, and grains. The fresh, clean produce nurtured by their hands not only provided food but also became their primary source of income—allowing them to live a peaceful, self-sufficient life in a land that people once called a “death zone.”
A strange yet harmonious family, where each person carried scars from the past, but together, they were nurturing a future blossoming with hope.
Chapter 5: An Ethical Dilemma with No Answer
Sunday, August 25, 2019.
When Tehimosin heard that the Wikunthari tribe was attacked, HuaZessin felt very happy because she thought it was their retribution.
But when she heard that the Master wanted her to go there to save those people, she showed dissatisfaction.
However, she still went there with the Master.
When they arrived, they witnessed the scene of monsters eating people.
The Master ordered HuaZessin to stop them immediately.
Master: HuaZessin, use the "King of Wood Binding" move.
HuaZessin summoned giant vines from the ground, binding the enemies and making them unable to move.
The Master had taught HuaZessin several special moves such as: King of Wood Binding, Plant Control, and Transforming into Plants: flowers, leaves, trees, etc.
At this moment, an old scientist appeared and said: You are not from the Wikunthari Tribe, why do you need to protect them?
Old Scientist: Release them immediately.
The old scientist threatened: If you dare to destroy them, I will die right in front of you. Choose between my life and the lives of the villagers in the Wikunthari Tribe.
Old Scientist: Kill an old man to save a villager or protect an old man and let the whole village be destroyed, which one do you choose?
The Master looked at HuaZessin, she understood and immediately released the carnivorous plants. Then they ran everywhere.
The Master wanted to stay and talk to the old scientist, then send HuaZessin to stop the carnivorous plants.
But the old scientist stopped them: No one is going anywhere.
Master: What exactly happened between you and the Wikunthari Tribe?
Master: Why do you hate the Wikunthari Tribe so much that you want to kill all the people in the Wikunthari Tribe?
Old Scientist: This story begins when my son was still alive.
Chapter 6: The Roots of Hatred
The past of the old scientist specializing in botany:
Old Scientist: My son was an adventurer. During his exploration of new places, he visited a village of the Wikunthari Tribe.
Tophomannii: Then he discovered that there were still backward customs here, such as wife kidnapping and "sleep visiting."
Tehimosin: What is "sleep visiting"?
Old Scientist: Families with young daughters who haven't found a husband by nightfall have to leave their doors open for men to come in and have relations with their daughters. If they like them, they will marry them, but the men in the village only do it to satisfy their desires without any intention of love or marriage.
Tophomannii: The boys in the village only see the girls as whores, sleeping with one girl tonight and another tomorrow, making the village girls pregnant without knowing who the father of the baby is.
Old Scientist: My son was a good person. He saw a pregnant girl who intended to commit suicide, so he stopped her and she told him everything.
Tophomannii: With his kindness, my son helped, took the pregnant girls home, and found them jobs.
Old Scientist: The people in the village looked down on girls, seeing them only as tools for childbirth. Therefore, even though many girls have been lost, the elders do not care.
Old Scientist: My son was a good person who wanted to eliminate backward customs and superstitions.
Tophomannii: The manifestation of this evil is believing in unnatural things in a vague and blind way, to the point where they can't distinguish between truth and mere speculation.
Thestraworit told everyone in the Wikunthari Tribe: What you need is knowledge, a modern science and technology foundation.
Old Scientist: The people here were too old-fashioned, backward, and unwilling to change, so they expelled him from the village.
After that, my son returned home and told me everything, saying: He would soon return and change the people of the Wikunthari Tribe.
Thestraworit returned to the village once more. Some of the outdated customs of the village include:
Tophomannii: If twins are born, one is killed, children are sacrificed to the gods, …
Tophomannii: If someone in the village is sick, they go to the shaman for a ritual to cure the illness, but of course, the person does not get better and dies from the illness.
Tophomannii: If someone dies in the house, and soon after someone else in the house falls ill, the sick person will be cremated.
For example: The one who died was the older brother, and the sick one was the younger brother.
People believed that the older brother wanted the younger brother to follow him, so they decided to burn the younger brother alive.
But fortunately, the younger brother was cured by Thestraworit.
People said he was a witch and had to be killed. While escaping, Thestraworit fell off a mountain.
Thestraworit called his father and told him everything: Apologizing for being unfilial, not being able to repay his parents before dying.
Finally, the father found his son's body thanks to the GPS device on his phone. He was determined to seek revenge.
The backward Wikunthari Tribe indirectly caused the death of the Scientist's son.
Chapter 7: The Final Verdict of Time
The scientist spent 40 years of his life creating carnivorous monsters to avenge his son.
When the old scientist finished telling his story, the carnivorous plants suddenly gathered together.
Old Scientist: So, you have killed all the people in the village.
Master: What? How many people were in this village that you could wipe them out so quickly?
Old Scientist: The population of the Wikunthari Tribe in 1979 was 12,511,718.
Old Scientist: Now, only 400 people remain. It was the backward customs that killed the people in the village.
After speaking, the old scientist took out a spray bottle and sprayed the carnivorous monsters, turning them back into ordinary carnivorous plants.
- Pitcher plant (Nepenthes).
- Venus flytrap.
- Trumpet pitcher plant (Sarracenia).
- Butterwort.
- Drosera burmannii Vahl.
- Heliamphora, also known as Marsh Pitcher Plant or Sun Pitcher.
- Darlingtonia, also known as Cobra Lily.
Everything ended, the old scientist, due to his old age and weakness, collapsed to the ground and passed away.
The master and HuaZessin buried him, surrounded by his carnivorous plants.
Master: Poor him, a great father, even though he was old and weak, he still wanted to avenge his son. The old father exhausted himself for his son and died.
HuaZessin: At this age, he should be resting, playing with his grandchildren, not avenging his son.
Master: Let's go home.
HuaZessin took the spray bottle as a keepsake.
HuaZessin: What about the village, Master?
Master: Even though the village and the Wikunthari Tribe have disappeared from the world, history has recorded their existence.
Chapter 8: Living with the Responsibility of One’s Choices
Sunday, August 25, 2019.
Night fell very slowly—so slowly that it felt as if the darkness itself were thickening, clinging to every crevice between the leaves in the garden.
HuaZessin sat alone on a wooden bench faded by time. The scent of agarwood from the ancient trees still lingered in the air, yet strangely, it no longer brought her comfort as it once had. Instead, it felt like a reminder of all that had been lost. She looked down at her hands, then at the flowerbeds surrounding her.
In the past, whenever she passed by, the flowers would instinctively lean toward her. Soft vines would curl around the hem of her dress, lightly brushing her wrist like children pleading for attention. But tonight, everything stood still. They were still alive, still radiant beneath the pale moonlight, yet an invisible wall seemed to have formed between them and her. Were they frightened—or was she the one distancing herself from this pure, untainted world?
“Is it humanity that is wrong… or was this world already flawed from the very beginning?” she whispered, her voice dissolving into silence.
She recalled the face of the old scientist as he spoke of his son. There was no madness, no frantic outbursts—only a father who had spent half his life trying to prove that his pain was justified.
She wondered: if love could turn a person into a monster, could that love still be called something noble?
The next morning, Monday, August 26, 2019.
The sky was overcast, heavy with the warning of an approaching rainstorm. Tehimosin found HuaZessin still sitting in the same spot, the night dew leaving her hair slightly damp. He did not ask whether she was all right. He already knew the answer.
“Master,” HuaZessin called softly when she noticed his shadow stretching across the grass.
She spoke again, her voice steady and emotionless:
“What do you believe justice truly is?”
Tehimosin thought for a moment before replying.
“Justice is something humans created so they could coexist without destroying one another. It is like a cage, HuaZessin. A cage meant to restrain the wild beasts within every person.”
“And what if people no longer wish to coexist?” she asked, her gaze sharp.“If all they want is to trample over one another to reach their goals, then what meaning does that cage still have?”
“In that case,” Tehimosin said softly, his voice heavy, “justice becomes nothing more than a distorted tool.”
HuaZessin let out a faint smile. It was not a happy one.
“That scientist… he never killed the villagers with his own hands.”
“He wanted the world to understand his pain.”
“So was he truly evil… or just a father doing everything within his power to reclaim what he called ‘justice’ for his son?”
Tehimosin did not deny it.
“I don’t believe he was innocent,” he said, “but I also can’t say he was completely wrong.”
HuaZessin lowered her head.
“Then what about me? I chose to protect people who once tried to kill me. Was that the right choice, or the wrong one?”
Tehimosin looked at her for a long time. The question fell into the air, heavy as lead. He knelt beside her, his hands still marked with traces of soil from tending the garden.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly.
“But I want you to understand this:
Forgiveness is a choice made by the heart—it exists for your own peace.
Not killing is a choice made by reason. You spared them not because they deserved to live, but because you deserve a soul cleaner than theirs.”
Nebelselle appeared soon after and sat beside HuaZessin. She did not look at the spray bottle—only at the garden.
“I once believed,” Nebelselle said, “that if everyone who hated me disappeared, I would finally be happy.”
HuaZessin turned toward her.
“But then I realized,” Nebelselle continued, “even if they were gone… the painful memories they left behind would still remain.”
“Revenge does not erase pain. It simply transfers that pain to someone else.”
At that moment, Tehimosin rose to his feet, gazing toward the distant horizon.
“Hating someone isn’t wrong,” he said. “It’s instinct. But letting that hatred decide who you become… that is dangerous.”
He continued calmly,
“If you use their cruelty to punish them, then in the end, they are the ones who truly win—because they will have turned you into another version of themselves.”
HuaZessin closed her eyes, letting those words sink deep into her being. She felt the turmoil inside her ease, just slightly.
“Then how should I go on living?” she asked.
“Don’t live for someone else’s justice,” Nebelselle said softly, taking HuaZessin’s cold hand,
“and don’t live for your own hatred either. Just live in a way that, when you look into the mirror each morning, you don’t feel like a stranger to yourself.”
That afternoon, the garden began to change in subtle ways. Nebelselle quietly carried bolts of fabric into storage, preparing for new designs—garments meant to clothe wounds left bare by suffering. HuaZessin picked up the watering can and began tending to the flowers once more. This time, her hands no longer trembled. Sensing the lightness returning to her heart, the flowers gently stirred. A few shy vines cautiously curled around her ankle.
She looked toward Tehimosin, who was carefully inspecting each seed.
“Knowledge without ethics becomes a catastrophe, doesn’t it?” she said.
Tehimosin nodded.
“That’s right.”
Before the lights in the room were completely turned off, HuaZessin glanced at the spray bottle resting on the shelf and spoke in a barely audible voice:
“I still hate humans. That hatred may never disappear. But I won’t allow myself to become something I despise.”
That night, HuaZessin fell into a deep sleep.
It was not the sleep of someone who had found every answer—because she understood that some moral dilemmas should never have final solutions.
It was the sleep of someone who had accepted the responsibility of her own choices.The road ahead might still be filled with hostility, but she was no longer afraid.
Because at last, she understood this:
to live in a broken world and still preserve one’s true self—that is the highest form of strength.

