WNST - 113

The crimson sun leapt out of the river, painting the horizon with rays of golden light. The shimmering brilliance illuminated their bodies, making everything feel almost sacred. It didn’t seem like they were on Earth anymore—it felt more like a celestial palace. 

Xie Queshan had the illusion that this wasn’t merely a fleeting glimpse of nature’s beauty; it was as if the gods had staged a grand performance specifically for him, piercing through the darkness. 

As the sun rose higher, the light softened, spreading evenly over the mountains and rivers. The swelling illusion finally settled gently and steadily back to earth. 

The young woman basked in the sunlight, her crescent-shaped eyes squinting slightly as she looked at him with a hint of pride. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something glistening in his eyes. Her smile slowly froze, disbelief creeping in. 

“Xie Queshan, you’re crying.” 

Xie Queshan felt as though the sunlight was about to scatter him, melt him away. He snapped back to reality and instinctively denied it. 

“No.” 

Stubbornly, he turned to head back into the room. 

“Ah ah ah—” 

Suddenly, Nan Yi lost her balance and leaned backward, her arms flailing wildly as if she were about to fall into the river. 

“Nan Yi!” 

Panicked, Xie Queshan rushed to grab her, but the iron chain clinked sharply, stopping him short. His hand reached out but only grasped at empty air. 

For a split second, his mind went blank. 

But then Nan Yi calmly jumped down from the railing, seizing the opportunity to grab his hand. A mischievous smile spread across her face. “I tricked you.” 

The rush of blood that had surged to his head now receded, leaving Xie Queshan momentarily stunned. In that instant, he had truly believed he wouldn’t be able to catch her. 

And before he could recover, she leaned close to him, staring intently into his eyes. “You really did cry.” 

He immediately denied it. “It was just the sunlight being too bright.” 

How could he admit to shedding tears in front of her? Xie Queshan stubbornly turned and headed back into the room. 

“You’re lying.” 

Nan Yi trailed after him, bending over to peek at his face. He turned his head away, refusing to let her see. 

“—Did you really think I was going to fall?” 

“—I was just joking. Are you mad?” 

“—Why won’t you talk to me?” 

“—Hey, so what if you cried? There’s nothing wrong with admitting it.” 

“I told you, I didn’t cry!” His voice grew increasingly agitated, revealing a rare loss of composure. 

“Fine, then I’ll cry.” 

Xie Queshan: ? 

He turned around to see her standing stubbornly in place, glaring at him with anger. True to her word, tears welled up in her eyes, spilling out like pearls, one after another. 

How dare she turn the tables on him! 

“Hey… you, stop acting.” 

At first, Nan Yi had been somewhat pretending, but when he called her out, she suddenly became genuinely emotional. All the (grievance) she had bottled up came rushing out. 

How dare he accuse her of acting! Hadn’t she been worried sick about him? 

Now, his words only made her cry harder. She plopped down on the ground and burst into loud sobs. Her tear-streaked face crumpled, her expression exaggerated and forceful, as if putting on a show for him. Yet, upon closer inspection, it seemed she was genuinely heartbroken. 

Xie Queshan didn’t know how to handle a crying Nan Yi. He even realized this might be one of her little tricks—but it was a trick meant for him, and it still tugged painfully at his heart. In his past, the only girl who used to cry often was his younger sister, Xie Xiaoliu. But that felt different. Back then, they’d always had clear arguments, and Xiaoliu would wail uncontrollably. But why was Nan Yi crying now? He felt helpless; he had no experience comforting girls. 

He moved in front of her, crouching down beside her, and cautiously touched her. 

“Please stop crying, okay?” 

But Nan Yi wasn’t having any of it. She swatted his hand away. 

“No.”

“Why?” 

“You wouldn’t even talk to me…” Her lips quivered, and as she thought about how Xie Queshan had ignored her these past two days while she had been eagerly trying to reach out to him, she suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of injustice. After uttering just a few words, she burst into loud sobs again. “You heartless man! I even showed you the sunrise… and you were so mean to me…” 

“I didn’t mean to be.” Xie Queshan felt utterly wronged. 

“Yes, you did!” 

At this moment, no matter what she said, he knew better than to argue back. Xie Queshan dropped his stubbornness and quickly apologized with a sincere tone. 

“I’m sorry for being harsh with you. It was my fault.” 

“Then you have to talk to me from now on!” 

“Alright, I’ll talk to you every day.” 

Mission accomplished! 

With this promise secured, Nan Yi felt a flicker of happiness bubbling up inside her. This small joy quickly overshadowed her earlier grievances, even tugging at the corners of her mouth into a barely suppressed smile. But realizing she shouldn’t look too pleased with herself—lest it seem contrived—she quickly reined it in. 

Still, this subtle shift didn’t escape Xie Queshan’s notice. With a helpless sigh, he gently pinched her cheek. 

Though Nan Yi’s anger had subsided, she wasn’t about to lose her momentum. How could she reconcile so easily? She immediately swatted his hand away. 

For some inexplicable reason, a playful competitive streak sparked in Xie Queshan. Unwilling to let go, he cupped her face and began kneading it, marveling at how soft and smooth her skin felt, like dough under his fingers. Unable to overpower him, Nan Yi retaliated by grabbing his face and giving it a good squeeze. 

The two stared at each other’s comically distorted expressions and burst into laughter simultaneously. 

Their gazes softened gradually, carrying a hint of lingering intimacy, like a breath of relief after surviving a storm. 

Suddenly, Xie Queshan lowered his hands, and the fleeting moment of closeness vanished as quickly as it had come, returning them to their usual state. 

Nan Yi looked at Xie Queshan earnestly, her eyes clouded with confusion. 

“Why do you never… never…” 

Her voice started off assertive but trailed off into a whisper, her cheeks inexplicably flushing red. 

Xie Queshan braced himself for whatever judgment she might pass, listening apprehensively. 

“… want to be close to me.” 

The last few words were barely audible, but Xie Queshan heard them clearly. 

His face flushed crimson. He hadn’t expected the conversation to take such an embarrassing turn. 

Flustered, he glanced up at her. Her tear-streaked face was pale, but a faint blush spread across her cheeks. Beneath the shyness lay genuine bewilderment. 

Between them, there had never been any grand declarations of love, yet she trusted the instincts of her heart. Thoughts, words, and expressions could all be feigned, but instinct couldn’t. Through every intimate moment they shared, she sensed that he loved her too. 

But why, then, was he so distant now? Was it an act, or was it real? 

She had been too shy to voice her feelings before, but in the heat of her emotional breakdown, her yearning and confusion grew stronger. She craved the warmth of a lover’s embrace and kiss. Humans were animals first; they had to be honest with their bodies. 

Hadn’t he ever felt that same desire? 

Did he have no attachment to this world—or to her? If not, what were they to each other? Fleeting lovers? 

She understood his struggles, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt. 

Xie Queshan opened his mouth to explain, but his jumbled thoughts lodged in his throat. 

He had always believed he was the one enduring silently, fighting against himself and the outside world. Only now did he realize, belatedly, how much courage it must have taken for her relentless chatter and fearless persistence—and how much (grievance) she had suppressed within herself. 

In truth, she was braver than he was. 

Leaning forward, he kissed her almost reverently. 

It was a kiss born of longing, like admiring fish from the edge of a precipice. 

Silent tears streamed down Nan Yi’s face. He hadn’t said a word, but somehow, she began to understand. 

---

After that, Xie Queshan slowly emerged from his despondent silence. Perhaps Nan Yi’s relentless efforts had worn him down, or perhaps the lack of news from Jinling signaled that things were improving. Whatever the reason, this slight softening gave Nan Yi hope. 

She was someone who clung to even the smallest glimmer of progress. Now that Xie Queshan was cooperating, she resolved to seize the opportunity and find a way to escape this place together with him. 

The immediate priority was to unlock the shackles on Xie Queshan’s wrists. 

A few days earlier, she had examined them closely. They were made of black iron, unbreakable by force, so her only option was to work on the lock itself. 

She did possess some rudimentary lock-picking skills—simple locks posed no challenge—but this was Zhang Yuehui’s lock. If he intended to keep someone imprisoned, he wouldn’t make it easy for them to escape. 

The lock’s mechanism was incredibly intricate. Nan Yi spent hours fiddling with a piece of wire, but to no avail. 

Frustrated, she began to entertain desperate ideas: forcing Zhang Yuehui to release Xie Queshan, or even threatening to harm herself right in front of him. But she knew Zhang Yuehui’s position wasn’t easy either, and he had already helped her as much as he could. 

Two grown adults couldn’t possibly be trapped by a single lock! 

Undeterred, Nan Yi pressed on with renewed determination. She spent entire days studying the lock on Xie Queshan’s wrist, which rendered him practically immobile. 

Now, whenever he tried to speak, she would furrow her brow and shush him, insisting she needed absolute silence to listen for the subtle clicks of the lock’s internal mechanisms. 

Xie Queshan patiently endured her antics, sitting still and barely breathing, occupying himself with reading a scroll. 

After a long while, she remained silent, her ear pressed close to the lock, holding his hand steadily. Puzzled, Xie Queshan cautiously turned his head and discovered that she had fallen asleep, her head resting on his lap. 

She still clutched the wire in her hand, her delicate brows slightly furrowed, her sleeping expression serious yet endearing. 

Unable to suppress a smile, Xie Queshan gently smoothed her brow with his hand. 

He gazed at her face, recalling how gaunt and sallow it had been when they first met. Over time, it had grown fuller and fairer, like a tree coming into bloom, its branches bursting with flowers. Without realizing it, she had blossomed fully, radiating vitality. Perhaps he had provided her with sunlight and rain, but she had grown freely in her own way.

The vibrant vitality was truly beautiful. 

He wanted to remain forever in this springtime. 

But gradually, his gaze turned melancholic once more. 

At that moment, Nan Yi suddenly woke with a start, looking around in confusion. It was already nighttime. Seeing Xie Queshan gazing at her with his head tilted slightly, she felt a bit embarrassed and quickly wiped the corner of her mouth—thankfully, no drool. 

“I wasn’t sleeping, just closing my eyes to think,” she said defensively. 

Xie Queshan nodded in agreement, not bothering to call her bluff. 

She pretended to be busy, fanning herself with her hand. “Oh dear, it’s getting hotter and stuffier by the minute. My brain feels like it’s shutting down. I’ll go open a window.” 

Nan Yi hurried to the window, pushing it open and letting the river breeze rush in. Her mind instantly cleared. 

But the anxiety in her heart surged again. She still couldn’t figure out how to unlock those shackles. 

This wasn’t a game or a joke—it was a matter of life and death for Xie Queshan. The pressure she put on herself was immense. 

Suddenly, she grew quiet. Xie Queshan felt puzzled. 

He glanced up and saw her leaning against the windowsill, clad only in a loose spring robe. The faint yellow glow of the lantern illuminated the fabric, making it semi-transparent, outlining her slender figure in soft, casual curves. The wind tugged at her robe, pressing it against her skin, creating an ethereal, hazy silhouette. 

Food and desire are human nature. 

Xie Queshan sighed. He didn’t know why he had been pretending to be some kind of saint. 

He walked over to the window and wrapped his arms around her from behind. 

The warmth of his embrace enveloped her. Surprised, Nan Yi turned her face to look at him, feeling that something about him seemed unusual—but then decided she was overthinking it. A happy smile spread across her face. 

She tried to turn around, but he stubbornly held her in place, resting his chin on her shoulder and pressing his cheek against her dark hair. 

“Don’t move.” 

After a while, curiosity got the better of Nan Yi. “What are you looking at?” 

“The view.” 

It was pitch black outside. 

“What view?” 

“It’s all here,” he replied cryptically. 

The river breeze—and her. 

Lost in thought, Xie Queshan stared into the distance, sharing this tranquil moment with her. 

They witnessed the heavens and earth, the sun and moon, the rivers and mountains—but they were merely fleeting mayflies in the grand scheme of things. To have one peaceful moment together made life feel worthwhile. 

---

Jinling.

In a room sealed off from prying eyes, Wanyan Pu unfolded a piece of paper. 

“Confirmed: Codename ‘Goose’ is Xie Queshan.” 

A confident smile curled the corners of Wanyan Pu’s lips. 

The game within the game changed in the blink of an eye. Who could say whose game it really was?