Chapter 176: The New Life of the Happy Prince |
The little girl grasped a match in her trembling hands and gently struck it against the wall. A soft “chi chi” echoed as the match ignited, its faint flame illuminating her small, cold surroundings.
“I wonder what kind of delicious food people are enjoying in that beautiful big house over there?” she whispered, sniffing the aroma that drifted on the cool breeze. Her imagination, stirred by hunger, painted vivid images in the flickering light.
In the firelight, she seemed to see a large dining table laden with plates of colorful fruits—apples, peaches, grapes—and large bowls of fragrant roast duck, roast chicken, and roast goose.
The plump roast duck seemed to leap from the bowl, knife and fork stuck in its back, waddling across the tablecloth and leaving behind greasy footprints.
The little girl pounced—and she *did*.
Warmth and texture greeted her. The roast duck had become real.
Before her truly stood a dining table piled with food. Snowflakes, pure and soft like goose feathers, fell upon the roast duck and fruits. Every detail was vivid and tangible.
“Is this real food?” she asked in disbelief. “Just like the stove yesterday?”
She eagerly pulled the knife and fork from the roast duck’s back and began to cut, eating greedily. After finishing the duck, she devoured the goose, grapes, juice, and everything else until she could eat no more.
Only then did she pause to wonder why such a feast had appeared.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the burnt matchstick lying on the ground.
“It was the same yesterday. When I lit a match, my fantasies became real,” she murmured.
“Could these matches be magical?”
“Was that kind sister from yesterday a magician?”
Thinking this, she felt a pang of guilt. “It’s a pity I can’t find that sister anymore… I can’t return the magic matches to her.”
“Well, I’ll just use a few more… and apologize when I see her again. I’ll return the rest.”
“If possible, I’d do anything to get more matches…”
Determined, she reached out her now-rosy hand and took another match. Its surface glowed faintly with sparks.
She struck it.
High above in the sky, Aurora, transformed into a bird, quietly watched, curious what the girl's next wish would be.
“I want to see Grandma,” the girl whispered to the flame. “I want her to come back from Heaven and see me.”
She thought of her grandmother, the kindest person in the world. But one day, Grandma vanished. Everyone said she had gone to Heaven. The little girl longed for her return.
She stared at the flame, waiting. But it flickered and went out in the cold wind—without a miracle.
Aurora and Rhine, still in bird form, watched silently, a faint sadness in their hearts.
They both knew: no magic could bring the dead back.
Certain forbidden necromancy could allow a sorcerer’s essence to be reborn elsewhere at death’s edge, and some magics could bind lingering souls into gems or bottles, preventing reincarnation—but these were shadows of life, not resurrection.
Even the greatest of sorcerers could not summon back a soul that had already been reborn.
“Heaven must be very far away,” the little girl murmured. “Even magic matches can’t reach it.”
She lowered her head in sorrow, unsure of what to wish for next.
Then, an idea came to her.
“Even if I can’t see Grandma… maybe I can see the swallow who gave me the sapphire!”
She lit another match and prayed to the flame:
“Please take me to the swallow who gave me the sapphire.”
The flame warmed and grew, surrounding her.
She found herself in the central square of town—the highest point of the city.
There stood a tall, tattered statue of a young man atop a column.
She remembered being here as a child with her grandmother on a warm spring day. Back then, the statue shone with gold, its sword inlaid with rubies, its eyes a brilliant sapphire.
“Who is that man?” she had asked her grandmother.
“He was a prince, long ago,” Grandma had said. “He lived in the palace, sheltered from suffering. People called him the Happy Prince. When he died, they built a statue to honor him.”
“Why so high up?” the girl had wondered. “Won’t he see all the suffering in the town? How can he stay happy?”
Now, the statue looked nothing like she remembered. His eyes were hollow, the jewels stripped, the gold long gone.
Then she realized: the sapphire the swallow had given her was one of the Happy Prince’s eyes.
The girl approached the pillar. She longed to return the gem, but her father had already taken it.
Just then, the swallow flew down and landed at the Prince’s feet.
“Swallow,” she said, “thank you for the sapphire. But it looks like it belonged to him… I shouldn’t have accepted it. I wanted to give it back, but my father took it…”
The swallow gently shook her head. “No, the Prince told me to give it to you.”
She explained that on her journey south, the Prince had persuaded her to stay.
On the first night, she took the ruby from his sword to a sick mother.
The second night, one sapphire eye to a starving playwright.
The third night, the other sapphire—to the shoeless little match girl.
And now, the Prince had asked her to peel off his remaining gold to feed the poor, the beggars outside mansions, and the freezing children beneath bridges.
Now nothing remained of the Happy Prince but dull gray lead.
In the distance, voices echoed.
“When did that statue become so ugly?”
“Let’s tear it down and melt it. Maybe make a statue of the mayor instead!”
The girl burst into tears.
She threw herself before the pillar, sobbing. She didn’t want the Happy Prince to be destroyed—he was like her grandmother, kind and selfless.
“I still have matches!” she cried suddenly.
She pulled out her matchbox and struck one.
The ruby returned to the hilt of the Prince’s sword, shining even brighter than before.
But his eyes were still hollow, and his body dull.
“One’s not enough.”
She struck all the matches, one after another, and burned them.
New sapphires grew in the Happy Prince’s sockets, dazzling and pure. His golden exterior returned, even more radiant than before.
He looked even more beautiful than she remembered.
Now, she had only one match left.
She used her final wish for the swallow: “Let her survive the cold winter.”
The swallow shimmered with warmth and flew to the girl’s hand, kissing her cheek.
The Happy Prince smiled and thanked her.
The little girl waved goodbye to them both and left the square.
Then she remembered—she hadn’t sold a single match. The magical ones were all gone.
Snow began to fall again, blanketing her hair and shoulders. Though she had eaten well, she was cold once more.
“What do I do now? I’ve run out of magic matches…”
She knew her father would beat her.
But she wasn’t afraid.
She had eaten her fill. She had helped the Happy Prince. She had no regrets.
“If only I had more magic matches,” she sighed.
She wanted to help the beggars, the children under bridges, the hungry writers… just like the Happy Prince.
Finally, she reached her run-down home, bracing herself.
“Little girl, your father’s dead!” a neighbor called out.
“The creditors beat him for not paying his gambling debt!” said another.
She stood frozen in shock.
At last, she opened the door.
Inside, the house was quiet… and on the table were dozens of matchboxes.
Each glowed faintly.
Beneath each one lay a letter.
Though she was illiterate, she found herself able to read.
> “My name is Aurora. I’m the magician who bought a box of matches from you that night. You’ve shown your kindness. These are my gifts to you. Please accept them…”
Tears welled in her eyes.
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After harvesting the power of wishes, Aurora followed Rhine back to the Rose Kingdom’s palace.
“Teacher, I’ve been thinking,” she said, gazing at the drifting clouds.
“Magic is so powerful… it can create food, warmth, shelter… everything people need.
“In theory, if magic was powerful enough, could hunger and cold be eradicated forever?”
Rhine nodded solemnly.
“Your Majesty, future Queen, you are right. On this continent, magic is indeed the most powerful force of production.”
Then his voice turned heavier.
“But helping one or two people is sim
ple. To help thousands… that is far more difficult. You’ll face challenges that can’t be solved by the same methods.”
“What kind of challenges?” Aurora asked, listening intently.
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(End of Chapter)