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An endless dark mist spread across the heavens and earth. Men and women with pale faces walked forward in a daze, their spirits hollowed out. With each step, their consciousness faded further, as if they were being pulled back into the edge of infinite chaos.
The blue-faced ghost officials held thin booklets, weaving silently through the procession.
“Three hundred eleven, three hundred twelve, three hundred...” A newly appointed young ghost counted heads. “Three hundred twenty-six.”
“How many?” The scribe called out.
The young ghost repeated, “Three hundred twenty-six.”
The scribe paused, lowering his gaze to check again.
“Never expected my first day on the job to involve such a large-scale soul-guiding operation,” the young ghost muttered, watching the passing souls. “Looks like it was a massacre. What do you think, Lord Wudao?”
The scribe suddenly raised his head, his already terrifying face now even more grim, causing the young ghost to instinctively step back.
“One extra person,” Wudao's voice was cold.
“Huh?” The young ghost hastily steadied himself and recounted carefully, “...three hundred twenty-four, three hundred twenty-five...” He paused, his voice dropping sorrowfully, “three hundred twenty-six.”
“Check. Those not listed must be sent back quickly before they cross the Ghost Gate—it'll be too late then.” Wudao waved his arm, and the officials instantly transformed into flameless ghostly fires, diving into the crowd of souls.
In the distance, a soft, melancholic song seemed to bewitch the minds of those around. Men and women stood with vacant eyes, being led forward. She blinked, feeling her consciousness slowly returning.
Where was she?
Her memory of what had happened earlier was fuzzy. She only vaguely recalled the sound of wind and water rushing past her ears before she closed her eyes, along with fragmented images. Raising her slender white hand, she glanced at the unfamiliar woman beside her who only reached her chin. Taking a deep breath, she realized she had lived for more than just six years.
As she sighed, her eyes scanned ahead, and she froze in place.
“Chen Guo'er?” A blue-faced ghost official stood before a woman, flipping through the Book of Life and Death to verify: “Born on the seventh day of the first month in the fifth year of Tianzhong, died on the twenty-first day of the fourth month in the twenty-fourth year of Tianzhong, at the hour of Xu?”
“Died?”
That one word illuminated her entire mind.
“Died!”
She looked around, taking in the bleak path ahead and the dark road behind. The faint stench of decay lingered in the air, like rotting flesh after rain. Layers of gloom stretched from near to far, exuding sorrow.
This was the Road to the Underworld. Her expression hardened.
“Yan Lu?”
Those two words struck her like thunder. She stared wide-eyed. Not far ahead, a familiar figure mingled among the wandering souls.
The new ghost official was asking questions when suddenly a white shadow tore through the night like lightning, appearing before them in an instant.
“A Lu!” The newcomer grabbed the male ghost beside him. The young ghost focused and saw that this female ghost had clear eyes and distinct features, unlike the others' vacant expressions. Confused, he watched as the female ghost raised her arm and slapped the male ghost hard across the face.
“You... you... you...” The young ghost stuttered, pointing at her. How could this happen? On his first day, he encountered a vengeful spirit!
“Yan Lu!” The “vengeful spirit” raised her hand again, the force making even him wince.
“Settle grievances from life while alive; do not disturb the peace on the Yellow Springs Road,” the young ghost trembled as he recited, “When we reach Lifu, Lord Yama will judge. You must not act rashly.”
As he spoke, the female “vengeful spirit” glared at him, her eyes filled with murderous intent, causing his ghostly fire to extinguish in fear.
“Uh...” The abused soul let out a groan, his scattered gaze gradually clearing like clouds parting over a mountain.
The procession continued moving forward, but they remained frozen in place.
After a moment, the male ghost blinked and suddenly shouted, “Why are you here, woman?”
“That’s my line.”
Hearing this, the young ghost retreated another step. Indeed, she was a vengeful spirit—her fierce expression sent chills down his spine, even though he was already accustomed to the Asura Path.
“I?” The male ghost glanced at the souls passing by, then at himself, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I am naturally dead.” His weary smile blended perfectly with the surrounding sorrow. Sighing, he suddenly turned solemn. “This is no place for you. Go back quickly!”
Hey, hey, whether or not she should go back wasn’t up to him. Just as the young ghost was about to speak, the female ghost coldly said, “If I go, we both go.”
How arrogant! Truly insufferable arrogance! The young ghost stared at the two ghosts, unable to calm his anger.
“Go back? What can I do if I return?” Yan Lu chuckled lightly. “Besides, I’ve already received the princess’s promise. The only thing I cared about has been resolved.”
Seeing his completely lifeless ghostly appearance, Yue Xia couldn’t suppress her anger. She simply grabbed his sleeve and flew back.
“What audacity!” The young ghost didn’t chase them but cursed from where he stood. “Lord Yama decreed your death at the third watch—you cannot stay until the fifth watch. Do you think this is the mortal world, where you can come and go as you please?”
Sure enough, the two ghosts collided with something invisible and were flung back.
The young ghost smirked triumphantly, ready to grab the soul cords hanging from their chests when a flicker of ghostly fire passed before him.
“Ghosts cannot retrace their steps,” Lord Wudao said calmly, glancing back at the young ghost.
Understanding, the young ghost flipped open the ledger for him to inspect closely. “The man’s name is Yan Lu. His birth and death dates are recorded. But the woman...” The young ghost glanced quickly at Yue Xia, muttering, “We haven’t identified her yet.”
Wudao lifted his blue face, his ghostly blue eyes scanning the jade pendant around Yue Xia’s neck. Suddenly, his expression changed drastically. “You... you are!”
“What is it?” Following his gaze, the young ghost scrutinized the scene. There was indeed something peculiar about the jade worn by the ghost.
“It’s the Soul-Stabilizing Jade of the Illusory Sea,” Lord Wudao murmured.
“The Illusory Sea?” The young ghost’s eyes bulged, his green face looking even more grotesque.
“The Dragon King of the Illusory Sea left this jade in the mortal world to protect his beloved daughter.”
So? The young ghost still didn’t quite understand.
“A’chou,” Wudao called softly.
“Hmm?” The young ghost responded.
“If you don’t want to be skewered and roasted by the Dragon King’s golden spear, I suggest you treat this young lady kindly.”
Huh? The young ghost’s bewildered expression was comical.
The Dragon King of the Illusory Sea? Yue Xia gripped the birthday gift she had received at age six, frowning. Her father had said it came from beyond the sea—how could it be a divine object?
Seeing the situation easing slightly, Yan Lu hurried forward. “Please, esteemed officials, investigate thoroughly. This woman absolutely should not have died early.”
The young ghost shook his head and sighed, about to explain, when his superior spoke evenly: “Mm, once we reach Lifu, we will ensure she returns to the mortal realm.”
Never would he have expected the iron-fisted Lord Wudao to comfort a ghost like this—it almost brought tears to his eyes. A’chou sniffled involuntarily.
“I will not turn back alone,” the female voice rang out, clear and resolute, as if trying to dispel the haunting bell sounds.
How ungrateful! If not for Lord Wudao’s warning, he would have used the Soul-Sealing Lock to bind her.
“Once someone dies, they cannot return to life. Don’t act rashly,” Wudao’s face grew stern.
“The one who should die isn’t him.” Unfazed by the ghostly visage, Yue Xia stared intently into those eerie blue eyes. “You’ve guided the wrong soul.”
“Xianyue Jun, think carefully,” Wudao said softly.
Xianyue? She blinked, puzzled.
“If you insist on seizing a soul, don’t blame me for doing my duty,” Wudao opened his right palm, revealing a black lotus blossoming within it. “If forced, we will lock you away in Lifu, and since your lifespan isn’t complete, you’ll be sentenced to the Sixth Hall’s City of Wrongful Deaths.” The lotus petals swayed, casting ominous shadows. “Take a look yourself at the tortures awaiting you.”
The varying shades of ink, the scent of cold fragrance, and the drifting petals formed a dark image of the underworld.
On the winding, blood-red River of Forgetfulness encircling the city, prayer lanterns floated sparsely, repeating prayers from a thousand years ago…
…
Though not music, the water carried its own sound. A tributary of the Red River flowed through cracks in the rocks, emitting a mournful cry. Along the riverbank stumbled a staggering figure.
Old Li, returning late from drinking, swayed his empty gourd and frowned. Empty? He awkwardly hung the gourd back on his waist.
Under the moonless night, the mist-shrouded landscape revealed itself along the banks of Wangchuan. Cool moisture filled the summer night, dampening the southern breeze. Humming a tune, Old Li walked leisurely. In the distance, a few dim lights flickered in humble cottages. Feeling content, the old man squinted happily.
His wife was waiting for him at home—how rare.
“Fish never leave water, flowers never leave the sun; the clever girl of Wangchuan fell for the fisherman,” Old Li pushed open the half-closed door and sang in a deep tone, switching to a folk melody. “Fish love fish, shrimp love shrimp, the Dragon King won’t marry a turtle. Old or wicked, her heart burns hottest. Wife, I’m home!”
He stood in the courtyard, waiting for his wife to storm out, pull his ear, and serve him a warm bowl of bean sprout soup.
Ah, here she comes!
“Old man!”
Hmm? Something was off. Old Li stole a glance.
“Hurry and fetch Doctor Liu!” Granny Li splashed a basin of water into the yard, the droplets tinged with a hint of blood.
Without the bean sprout soup, the alcohol haze cleared instantly. Old Li anxiously grabbed his wife. “What’s wrong, old woman?”
“Oh, it’s not me!” Granny Li pushed the old man out of the gate, waving her hand urgently. “Hurry, hurry! Even if you have to drag him, bring Doctor Liu here!”
If it’s not her, then who? A fire ignited in Old Li’s chest as he hunched over and ran like the wind toward the distance…
The mountains stood still, the water whispered softly, and the night breeze lazily brushed against the reeds by the riverbank.
“Let go, let go.” Outside the small house, a short-bearded man shook his sleeves, disdainfully prying Old Li’s tight grip from his arm. “Li Hulu, let me tell you, nighttime consultations aren’t cheap. If you can’t pay at least one or two taels, I won’t set foot inside.”
“Doctor Liu, please show some mercy,” Old Li pleaded, his face sagging. “First, come in and take a look. I’ll repay you later—I swear. Lives are at stake; you can’t ignore this.”
“Hmph! You dare call me out without money!” Doctor Liu snapped coldly and turned to leave.
At that moment, a silver flash pierced through the paper window, striking Doctor Liu’s right arm.
“Ow!” He cried out in pain, his medical box falling from his shoulder.
“Leave your things,” a chilling male voice echoed from behind the curtain, freezing Old Li in place.
Doctor Liu turned to argue but noticed a jade button rolling by his feet. Its lustrous green hue marked it as a fine piece. Forgetting the pain, he grinned and bent to pick it up, only to hear the low voice again: “Leave.”
The calm tone carried an undercurrent of menace, stretching endlessly into the dark night. Trembling, Doctor Liu clutched the jade button and fled like he’d seen a ghost.
Old Li picked up the fallen medical box, suspicion mounting as he cautiously lifted the cloth curtain.
Inside, several candles burned, their dripping wax making Old Li wince. That stingy old woman—she wouldn’t even let him light one candle normally, yet she was so generous with strangers.
He slammed the medical box down, ready to explode, when he noticed a figure in moon-white sitting at the edge of the bed, strands of black hair peeking out from behind. The beautiful hair color caught his eye, momentarily distracting him from his anger. Leaning closer, he saw the figure shift, revealing a face of celestial beauty.
Clear, phoenix-like eyes shimmered like flowing water carrying fallen petals, swirling with pain.
The scolding words on the tip of his tongue vanished instantly. Staring into those eyes, Old Li felt an inexplicable ache in his heart.
“Why are you standing there like an idiot?” Granny Li shot him a glare, rushing forward to snatch the medical box. “Young man, here.”
The man pressed one hand behind him, as if exerting force. Though pale, his face showed no sign of fatigue. “Thank you.”
“Old woman, this...” Old Li pointed at the busy man, about to ask, but his wife dragged him out of the room.
“Keep your voice down,” Granny Li gently closed the curtain.
“Who are they?”
“Come here, I’ll tell you slowly.” Granny Li led her husband to the lit kitchen, pulling out a lukewarm bowl of bean sprout soup. “You had just gone to buy wine at the village entrance when someone knocked on our door…”
“Knock, knock, knock.” The urgent knocking startled Granny Li, who angrily threw aside the half-finished shoe sole she was working on. “That damned old man must have forgotten the wine money! I don’t have any!”
“Knock, knock, knock.” Whoever was outside didn’t retreat but knocked even harder.
“Knock all you want! See if I care!” Granny Li grabbed a ladle and yanked open the gate. “Knock till you—” The ladle fell from her hand. “You… you…”
In the darkness, a pair of cold, handsome eyes loomed over her. The tall figure radiated a faint smell of blood.
“Ghost!” Granny Li’s heart raced, and she quickly tried to shut the gate.
But the shadow pressed against the wooden door. One arm cradled something, while dark drops of water slid from his hair and clothes—he looked like a drowned spirit.
Granny Li pushed harder but couldn’t overpower him.
“We’re not ghosts,” he said coolly, emphasizing the word “we.”
“Not ghosts?” Granny Li blinked.
“My wife is gravely injured. Please, kind elder, take us in.”
His voice was raspy and dry, clearly unused to pleading, which softened her heart. “Wife?” Peering through the crack in the door, she saw a figure curled in his arms, black hair cascading like seaweed, obscuring the face. Regaining her composure, she realized the man could have easily broken in but instead waited politely outside.
Slowly, Granny Li opened the gate, carefully examining the man in the candlelight. Dressed in a moon-white robe, tall and elegant, he exuded a quiet, solitary grace.
“Elder,” his cool voice carried a subtle plea, instantly melting Granny Li’s heart.
“Hurry! Come in!” Opening the gate, she welcomed the soaking pair inside, her reputation for kindness well-known in the area.
“Just… just like that?” Old Li crouched by the stove, itching to smash his foolish wife’s head to see if it contained nothing but straw.
Letting strangers in so easily—did she not want to live anymore?!
“Just now, you didn’t see the look in that young man’s eyes.” Granny Li gazed at the boiling water on the stove, her aged eyes soft with warmth. “It was like the widowed white crane by the riverbank—so full of sorrow that it made these old eyes of mine well up.”
Yes, he had seen it. It was precisely because he saw it that he hadn’t had the heart to drive them away. Old Li sighed and poured the water from the pot into a wooden basin. “Take it in.”
“Old man?” Granny Li looked surprised.
“They don’t seem like wicked people. If we can help, we should.”
“Ah!”
The gentle breeze whispered through the open window, while the dark mountain mist carried a quiet melancholy. In the distance, the Wangchuan River gently lapped against the shallow embankment, its sound mournful and faint.
Inside the room, under the dim night light, the last silver needle was carefully placed. A long, steady hand moved painstakingly slowly toward the person’s chest.
Her injuries were severe—so severe that even his hands trembled as he inserted the needle. For the first time, Ye Jinglan tasted fear. Fear that overwhelmed him, fear that nearly drove him to cowardice and pleading.
He was afraid. So afraid.
The chest beneath his palm barely rose and fell. He stared unblinkingly at her pale, delicate face.
Death—it bore the visage of death!
A piercing, bone-chilling pain swept through his body, wave after wave coursing through his meridians, as if tearing him apart.
Ignoring his own distress, he pulled her limp, fragile body into his arms, channeling his qi into her again and again.
Impossible. Absolutely impossible. She wouldn’t leave. She couldn’t.
A mouthful of sweet, metallic blood surged up his throat, splattering onto the ground with an air of bitter unwillingness. He shook his head, trying to dispel the mirage before his eyes.
This was what it felt like to lose control—to fall into demonic possession.
He suppressed the surging blood in his chest, his vision clouded with moisture.
Someone as cold and composed as him, experiencing such intense emotions? He would never have believed it possible before. Unbeknownst to him, she had become his demon, deeply, irrevocably rooted in his heart.
He clung to the fraying threads of his sanity, leaning down to whisper softly by her temples.
“Through countless lifetimes, I will never let you go. If you dare...” His voice carried a trace of warning, a trace of longing, and a trace of anguish, shattering the summer night like fragile glass. “I will search for you across the heavens and the underworld, across the heavens and the underworld...”
...
She heard a faint murmur, and her gaze lingered on the illusory reflection of the City of Wrongful Deaths cast by the black lotus. She frowned slightly.
Hmph, scared now, are we? The blue-faced ghost smirked smugly. As he expected, no matter how fierce a ghost might be, the mere mention of hell’s tortures would make them suppress their ferocity and obediently comply.
“Lord Ghost,” she slowly lifted her eyes to meet Wudao's eerie blue ones. “Do those who take their own lives also enter the Sixth Hall?”
“Naturally.”
Her delicate brows furrowed as she sank into deep thought.
“Lord Wudao, we’ve arrived at the Ghost Gate.” Though they hadn’t taken a single step, they already stood outside the city of Lifu.
A massive archway loomed in the cold, pale mist, the biting wind carrying a thick aura of death. The haunting sound of bells mingled with mournful ghostly wails, spreading outward from beyond the gate.
Suddenly, her clear voice rang out, her beautiful lips curving into a faint smile. Like moonlight shrouded in mist or dew-kissed flowers, her presence brought a fleeting touch of spring to the desolate underworld.
The ghosts were momentarily stunned. Then they heard the voice of the woman who seemed to have stepped out of a painting.
“I am not dead.”
At her words, Wudao visibly relaxed. Good, she understands. Earlier, the murderous aura around her had reminded him of a thousand years ago, when he was still a lowly gatekeeper in the underworld. The Dragon King of the Illusory Sea had come with the same expression, cradling his daughter as he sought to reclaim a soul.
Thankfully, she had come to her senses.
“As long as he is alive, I cannot bear to breathe my last.” Han Yuehua murmured, the whispers echoing more clearly in her ears. How could she bear to let him devalue himself and ultimately descend into the City of Wrongful Deaths to endure endless torment?
She couldn’t bear it. Even if she could sacrifice herself, she couldn’t bear to part with the man who had staked his life for her.
She smiled again, her enchanting gaze captivating all who beheld it. In that moment of distraction, she seized Yan Lu and flew toward the other side of the Ghost Gate.
“Xianyue Jun!” Wudao inwardly cursed his carelessness. This father and daughter were truly cut from the same cloth! He flipped his right hand, and a black soul-locking chain shot out from his palm.
Just as the gates of life and death came into view, Yue Xia pushed off the ground, pulling Yan Lu with her to accelerate their escape.
“Return!” A thunderous shout rang out. The black chain seemed to have eyes as it hooked onto the soul cord on Yan Lu’s chest, jerking him back instantly.
“A Lu!” Yue Xia reached out to grab his wide sleeve.
“Let go, My Lady.” A faint smile appeared on his pale face as he pleaded with her. “I’m already dead.”
“Shut up!” Her voice was as fierce and biting as it had been in life.
“Live well.” Yan Lu raised his hand to catch the tear that slid down her cheek. “Live for both of us.”
“A... Lu...” Her clear, watery eyes shimmered with ripples of emotion, her gaze filled with deep reluctance. “Hold on a little longer, just a little longer...”
“My Lady, I am truly dead.”
“No...”
“If you persist, you’ll only harm yourself and those who love you.” He sighed softly as he tore his sleeve free, allowing the black chain to pull him toward the Ghost Gate.
“A Lu!” She clutched the torn fabric in her hand and turned to chase after him.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t catch up to his ghostly figure. It was as though her feet remained rooted in place. Between them, only swirls of purple mist danced, yet the distance grew immeasurably vast. Slowly, his ghostly form disappeared into the darkness, leaving her with tears staining her beautiful face.
“A Lu!” She sobbed like a child, stubbornly running forward.
“Han Yuexia! Live bravely!” Yan Lu’s passionate shout echoed from afar.
“A Lu!” Her cries became incoherent.
“Remember this!” His voice, tinged with a faint sob, resounded outside Lifu. “In my heart, you are the best woman there is!”
“A Lu...” She collapsed to the ground, feeling as though her very soul had been displaced.
Suddenly, nine ghostly flames flickered around her, casting a red glow.
“If you feel guilt toward me, then have more children in my stead!”
“Yes... yes...” She sobbed in response. “Yes...”
“Farewell, Han Yuexia.” His voice rippled like water, slowly fading away. “No regrets in this life... No regrets in loving you...”
“A Lu!” Her anguished cry pierced the heavens and earth.
In the gloom, a towering gate emerged from the mist, and the heavy drum of soul restoration began to beat.
“Soul not yet departed, gates of life and death, one drumbeat to return three souls.
Mother at home, loved one by your side, two drumbeats to restore vitality.
Nine fires burn, protecting the true self, three drumbeats later, pure yang remains.”
Crimson flames enveloped Yuexia, and as the drumbeats faded, she drifted into a peaceful slumber, her serene face still bearing traces of tears.
Across the heavens and the underworld, through countless lifetimes, never to part.
The deep male voice echoed like a spell in her dreams, entwining itself with the threads of her fate...
...
Searching, searching, it felt as though she wandered through a dark corridor, the distant sound of drums fading behind her.
“Past and present lives, a mere flick of the fingers spans nearly a thousand years.” A mournful ghostly wail echoed through the mist. “Five hundred years of emptiness, like the sea swallowed by water, vanished without a trace. Beauty fades, love remains unfulfilled. Where does the crescent moon rest?”
The sorrowful song pressed heavily on her heart, twisting her insides with pain so intense it felt like tearing.
“To sever ties with you through countless lifetimes—whose feelings are severed, whose thoughts are broken? You seek here, I wander through a thousand-year tribulation. The southern wind caresses from afar, may you discern carefully—this leaf, this love, boundless and endless...”
Ahead in the mist, leaves fell endlessly, stirring an impulse within her. She rushed forward blindly. Occasionally, a few paulownia leaves floated before her eyes, obscuring her vision.
Past and present lives, indeed—if she didn’t understand now, she’d be feigning ignorance. She looked around, memories from her dream surfacing like the tartness of unripe plums, leaving her to ponder repeatedly.
Regardless of who was who, who blamed whom, rights and wrongs passed before her eyes. She yearned only for one man now—for him alone. Thinking of him made her heart ache, made her crave life, everything driven by the desire to see him once more.
A leaf landed in her palm, burning hot against her skin.
This leaf, this night—she realized she wanted more than just a glimpse. She wanted...
Before her, the heavy mist was engulfed by golden flames, as if igniting the pages of memory. Scene after scene, page after page, burned away with the falling leaves...
Her long lashes trembled delicately, like an elegant fan.
Had she returned?
She opened her eyes abruptly but was startled by the blinding white light, forcing her to half-close her lids.
The warm sunlight filtered through yellowed window paper, quietly coloring the early summer musings.
Where was she?
She furrowed her brow slightly, cautiously surveying the unfamiliar earthen house. After a moment, her gaze settled on an elderly woman with streaks of gray in her hair, sewing a coarse woman’s garment by the light.
Who was this?
She tried to sit up but found her body unresponsive, even lifting a finger requiring immense effort.
Sighing inwardly, she glanced around and locked eyes with the old woman’s wide, astonished gaze.
The coarse garment slipped from the old woman’s hands, fluttering to the ground like a fallen leaf, startling the tranquil afternoon.
She watched silently as the old woman, disbelief etched on her face, stumbled unsteadily toward the door.
“Miss! Miss has awakened! Doctor Ye, Miss has awakened!”
The sudden sound of human voices startled her, dulled by her prolonged silence. Outside, the clatter of a dropped basin inexplicably quickened her heartbeat. At the door, a shadow lengthened gradually, and she stared unblinkingly. Into view came a deep blue robe—no intricate embroidery, no silken texture, yet it rippled familiarly like flowing clouds.
Tears welled up instantly, her heart racing so fast it tugged at her wounds.
Inch by inch, her gaze slowly traveled upward. Step by step, his tall figure drew closer.
The blue hem of his robe fluttered in the summer sun, mirroring her—and his—emotions. Time flowed excruciatingly slowly, yet it couldn’t calm their agitated hearts.
After a long moment, he stood by the bedside, his chest rising and falling slightly, while she trembled as she met his shimmering phoenix-like eyes.
Tears overflowed instantly. She smiled, her cracked voice floating like fine dust in the air.
“I’m back.”
His face was shadowed, hidden by the backlight.
“I’m back.” Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, “Xiuyuan, I’m back.”
Before her words faded, she was in his arms. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, murmuring softly, “Mm.”
“I...” She choked on her words, gripping his sleeve with all her strength. “I was so afraid...”
His breathing was uneven as he suppressed the torrent of emotions within.
“Mm...” Unable to hold back the bitterness and joy any longer, she burst into sobs. “Xiuyuan... I was so afraid...”
His strong arms rocked her gently, his voice flowing over her heart like a shallow stream.
“I was afraid too.”
“Xiuyuan...”
“I was very afraid.” His voice was firm yet hoarse as he repeated it in her ear.
His long arms encircled her firmly yet tenderly, his tall frame trembling faintly.
“Xiuyuan...” She turned her head, startled, wanting to see his face, but a large hand blocked her view.
“Don’t look.” His voice was steady and low.
This man... She rested her head weakly on his shoulder. “Alright.”
Her heart softened uncontrollably, and the pain in her body seemed less acute. Silent tears fell, carrying the complex emotions of a lifetime, soaking his clothes and pooling in the corners of his eyes.
How could she bear to part with someone like him? How could she?
The silken threads of sunlight stretched endlessly, the passage of time gentle and slow. In the bright afternoon, with pomegranate blossoms glowing in the sunlight, she rested her head on his chest and drifted off to sleep. Then, a large hand gently covered her left breast, devoid of any lust. Her weak but steady heartbeat traveled through his palm straight into his heart.
A long-absent graceful curve formed on his lips, his phoenix-like eyes brimming with affection.
She had returned.
He tenderly kissed her temple.
She had truly returned.
His handsome eyes shimmered, holding a faint smile. For the entire afternoon, he sat there, his gaze never leaving her, his hand always resting over her heart.
Days slipped by like a cat padding softly over roof tiles. During this time, she rarely woke. No matter how resilient or enduring she was, her weakened body often betrayed her will, leaving her perpetually drowsy. In her hazy moments, someone always tenderly fed her water or wiped her body—Granny Li, perhaps. She thought so as she drifted into sweet dreams.
“Boom!” A thunderclap shattered the sky.
“Stop!” Came Granny Li’s furious shout from outside the window. “Liu Changgui, how dare you steal medicine, and you call yourself a doctor!”
Inside the room, she opened her eyes and watched the two figures projected on the window paper. Suddenly, the smaller figure grabbed the man in front.
“Put it down quickly, or this old woman will report you to the authorities!”
“You meddling old hag!” The man raised his hand to strike, but suddenly, a silver needle pierced the yellowed window paper, slicing through the darkness like lightning.
“Ouch!” He clutched his shoulder, hastily dropping what he held.
“Get out! When my old man and Doctor Ye return, you’ll get what’s coming to you!” Granny Li brandished a firewood stick, raining blows upon him. “Tsk! Beast!”
After a while, the commotion outside finally subsided.
“Miss!” The curtain parted, and Granny Li entered, panting heavily. “That needle just now—it was you, wasn’t it?”
“Mm.” She leaned weakly against the bed, her face drenched in cold sweat.
“What's wrong?” Granny Li hurried over, her small feet moving quickly.
“Granny,” she said, her delicate brows furrowed, “could you... help me lie down?”
“Alright, alright.” Granny Li set aside the herbs in her hands and carefully supported her slender waist.
“Granny.” Her voice was soft and gentle, as soothing as water.
“What is it? Are you feeling unwell?” Granny Li looked her over.
“No.” She shook her head gently and slowly took Granny Li’s aged hand in hers. “Thank you.”
Granny Li paused for a moment, then smiled warmly.
“Granny?” She tilted her head slightly, her clear eyes full of endearing innocence.
“No wonder Doctor Ye treasures you so much,” Granny Li said, patting her soft hands. “Just hearing your voice makes this old woman feel like she's had two cups of wine. You helped me earlier, and now you’re thanking me so sweetly. What a thoughtful girl.” As she spoke, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Such beautiful hair.
“Granny,” she said sincerely, “thank you and Grandpa for helping Xiuyuan and me when we were at our hardest.”
“Tsk, tsk,” Granny Li teased, looking at her. “Young miss, you and Doctor Ye must be newlyweds.”
“Huh?” She was startled.
“A married woman shouldn’t call her husband by his name in front of others.”
“Then what should I call him?” Having lost her parents at a young age, she wasn’t familiar with these customs.
“Old ghost, father of my child, stinky man, the one at home,” Granny Li counted off on her fingers to explain.
Her delicate brows furrowed even more, and she looked somewhat awkward as Granny Li spoke animatedly.
“Oh, right!” Granny Li suddenly clapped her hands. “And also, 'husband.'“
“Husband...” she murmured, softly repeating the word. A blush instantly spread across her pale face.
“Seeing this charming face every day must be tough on Doctor Ye,” Granny Li said slyly, winking. Seeing her puzzled expression, she leaned in to whisper some explanations into her ear.
“Granny...” Her ears turned red, like the fruit Granny Li had placed on the bedside earlier. “What is this?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“Oh, this is a miraculous medicine,” Granny Li said indignantly, glaring toward the door. “That Liu Changgui tried to steal it just now.”
“Miraculous medicine?” She curiously examined it.
“Young miss, you owe your quick recovery to this medicine. Doctor Ye has been climbing the mountains every day to gather it.”
“Xiuyuan... I mean...” she whispered, “Husband gathers this?”
She knew he left before dawn every day, saying only that he was gathering herbs. Though they had no money now, they couldn’t freeload. Fortunately, he was skilled in medicine, gathering herbs in the mountains and seeing patients outside to earn some silver. Earlier, that Doctor Liu had come to steal the medicine. She thought it was because Xiuyuan had disrupted his livelihood, but she didn’t expect it was for these herbs.
“My old man heard that ever since Doctor Ye brought back this miraculous medicine, Liu Changgui became even more envious,” Granny Li said, picking up her needlework and sewing as she spoke. “This miraculous medicine grows on the cliffs of the Immortal Peak. Ordinary people can’t reach it.”
“Crack!” Bright purple lightning illuminated the window paper, and thunder rumbled as if the sky would soon rain.
“Cliffs...” She looked at the damp ground outside, her heart as cloudy as the early summer sky.
Afterward, she didn’t hear a word of what Granny Li said. She just stared blankly out the window, watching the torrential rain arrive as expected, the fierce raindrops like steel beads pounding the ground and her heart.
She fell asleep again and felt annoyed. When she opened her eyes and tried to get up, she suddenly felt warmth on her chest.
“Lie still.” The rain continued, and the heavy sky made it impossible to tell the time.
“Xiuyuan?” She looked in surprise at the large hand on her chest, her cheeks burning.
Though not particularly impressive, her chest wasn't flat either. Why was he...
She shyly glanced up, and in the dim light, his phoenix-like eyes shone brilliantly.
“You're back,” she said weakly, making him frown.
“Mm.” He sat by the bed, reaching out to take her pulse. Residual rainwater slid down his long hair, accentuating his alluring masculinity.
Her face flushed as she guiltily lowered her gaze, then froze. Mud stains clung to the hem of his coarse robe, and his shoes were covered in yellow mud. She reached out and pulled his right hand close to examine it.
“Xiuyuan, you're hurt.” She looked at the bloodstains on his palm with concern.
“Move slowly,” he said, ignoring her words. “Be careful not to aggravate your injuries.”
“...” She didn’t speak, her slender shoulders trembling slightly.
“Qingqing?”
She pulled his hand over her eyes, the warmth seeping into his wounds. “I was so worried about you.”
“I know.” His eyes seemed to carry a hint of a smile.
“You’re not allowed to go out on rainy days anymore,” she said, her voice choked and slightly scolding.
“Alright.” He gently wiped away her tears.
“Xiuyuan, I owe you so much.” She sighed in distress. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty for the rest of my life?”
“Yes.” He cupped her face, speaking very seriously. “I want you to owe me more and more, so you’ll feel too guilty to leave.”
“Xiuyuan...” She thought tearfully about how deeply he must have been hurt this time.
“The debt you owe me, repay it with your whole life,” he said, lifting her up.
“Alright.” She extended her uninjured right hand and wrapped it around his lean waist.
After a while, she felt her long hair brushing against her cheek, sticky like the humid air.
“Xiuyuan,” she said, feeling defeated.
“Mm.”
“I want to take a bath.” After fainting for so many days, she felt like she was turning sour.
“Alright.” He responded, placing a kiss on her hair before stepping out into the rain.
“How could he not mind me?” she frowned, touching her long hair. He was such a clean person.
The sky seemed to have sprung a leak, with heavy rain pouring through the clouds.
The room was filled with mist, and the sound of water echoed softly.
“It's ready.” Ye Jinglan tested the water temperature, then turned to remove his clothes.
“Huh?” Yue Xia widened her eyes, confused. “Xiuyuan...”
“Mm?” He removed his wet outer garment, revealing finely toned muscles.
“Are... are you going to bathe too?” Her breathing became uneven, her cheeks puffing up.
His elegant brows lifted slightly, and he calmly replied, “Qingqing, you can’t sit still.”
With the demeanor and tone of a righteous gentleman, she was momentarily speechless.
His phoenix-like eyes shimmered with intoxicating allure. He removed his outer shirt, leaving only his white pants on.
Her heart pounded as she watched him approach. Overcome with heat, she blurted out, “I don’t want to anymore.”
He silently walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Tomorrow, let Granny help me,” she said, turning to cover herself with the blanket.
Suddenly, a pair of large hands slipped in, scooping her up effortlessly.
“Ah!” She let out a surprised cry.
He gazed at her slightly flushed cheeks, his eyes full of amusement.
“In the past, Granny always helped me,” she explained defiantly.
Her eyes shimmered like a lake under a gentle breeze on a sunny day. He slowly lowered his gaze, making her feel uneasy. “In the past, Granny also needed rest,” he hinted subtly.
“Huh?” She widened her eyes, a sense of foreboding rising in her heart.
“Should I say it?” He leisurely undressed her, his voice tinged with nonchalance and restraint. She helplessly watched herself become like a rag doll, at his mercy.
“You can say it,” he said, loosening the long sash of her inner garment and brushing her long hair aside, gazing deeply at her.
“Better not,” she instinctively understood that if he said it, she might never be able to face him again.
His lips curved slightly, and he reached out to untie her belly band. She quickly said, “No need for this.”
His long fingers paused mid-air. After a moment, he reluctantly withdrew his hand and carried her into the bath.
So warm. The rising steam caressed her cheeks, soon flushing them red.
One of his arms encircled her waist, pulling her close against him. Her thin undergarments outlined her feminine beauty, her smooth hair floating in the water like swaying seaweed. Her small belly band, soaked through, revealed subtle features that heightened the visual allure. His handsome face was tense, his body rigid like stone. Torture, he inwardly sighed.
His wandering thoughts almost caused her to slip into the water. Ye Jinglan tightened his grip on her slender waist, pressing her firmly against him. He glanced down at the shocking scar below her left shoulder, recalling the scene from that day and feeling a surge of anger.
Xie Sichen shouldn’t have died so easily.
“Xiuyuan?” Sensing his change in demeanor, she softened and leaned against him.
“Does it still hurt?” he gently stroked the scar.
“Not much anymore.”
“But it hurts me.” He carefully avoided the wound, wetting her long hair.
“You don’t need to blame yourself. No one could have anticipated...” She consoled him, only to hear him respond:
“The information I received indicated an attack at Mirror Gorge. It was my oversight.” He gently stroked her hair, his voice full of frustration.
“Xiuyuan, it’s not your fault.” She wanted to turn and look at him but couldn’t move freely. Without him, she truly couldn’t sit still.
The person behind her didn’t respond, instead tenderly washing her.
“If there’s any fault, it’s mine,” she said, lowering her eyes sadly. “If it weren’t for me, Yan Lu wouldn’t have gotten involved in this mess.”
“Without you, it would have been the same.”
“No.” She tilted her head, the scent of ylang-ylang sliding from her hair. “It’s all because of me... all because of me...”
“Qingqing.” He sighed, turning her around and pulling her into his embrace. “This isn’t your fault.”
She leaned against his bare chest, whimpering softly like a cat.
Each soft sound touched the tender spot in his heart. Ye Jinglan held her without speaking further.
“Xiuyuan.” After a while, she spoke in a low, hoarse voice.
“Mm.” He stroked her back, wetting her beautiful hair.
“I saw Yan Lu down there.”
His phoenix-like eyes abruptly narrowed, and he pulled her tightly against his chest.
“He didn’t want to come back with me.” She raised her uninjured right arm, gripping his neck tightly. “Why... why...” Two streams of hot tears slid down his increasingly cold back.
“Qingqing.” His voice was deep and warm, as if blocking out the sound of the rain outside. “Sometimes, we can’t control others.”
“Huh?” She looked up at him, her eyes full of confusion.
“What you’re determined to do, others might be ready to give up.” He kissed her tear-filled eyes.
“I don’t understand.” She thought earnestly but still found no answer.
“You will.” Seeing her about to slide down again, he wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Huh?” She was still lost in thought, her adorable expression causing him a wave of heat. Suddenly, her left arm hit the wooden tub, causing her to clench her teeth in pain.
Ye Jinglan’s mind slightly retracted, but he still leaned her against himself, his hands trembling slightly.
“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt anymore.” She forced a smile, bearing it as she always did.
He silently washed her, his body still tense.
“It really doesn’t hurt anymore.” The warmth behind her made her feel so secure that her eyelids drooped, and she was about to fall asleep.
“From now on, I’ll bear the pain.” His voice was as soft as water, as gentle as the wind, like a spring stream trickling quietly.
“Ah, Xiuyuan...” She sighed, sighed, and fell asleep with a smile.
...
The soft morning light quietly enveloped the mountain peaks. Scattered sails on the river stretched out their hearts. The southern wind plucked the strings of rippling waves, and a gentle emotional current flowed slowly along the riverbed. The green mountains and clear waters settled the dust of the world, and the rising mist in the distance adorned her wooden window.
“Do you like it?” He embraced her from behind.
“Mm.” She leaned quietly, extending her right hand to trace the clouds in the sky, the boats on the river, and the graceful lotuses in the pond.
“Let’s stay here,” he murmured, kissing her earlobe.
“Xiuyuan?” She turned around, looking up at him.
“Mm.” His eyes carried a faint glow.
“What about Mianzhou?” After nearly two months of recuperation, her complexion had regained its vitality.
“Qingqing.” His voice was like a clear spring, pleasant and warm.
“Mm.”
“And General Han?”
She flinched first, then lowered her eyes.
“In a few more days, we can set off.” He looked at her left shoulder.
Her delicate brows furrowed slightly, her elegant face tinged with a faint orange glow. “I like it here.”
“So do I.” He held her left hand, kneading her fingers gently. Even though she could now get out of bed, her left arm remained weak. “General Han is your closest kin, and Mianzhou is my responsibility.”
“Mm.” She furrowed her brows and nodded.
“I can abandon this responsibility.” His tone was light.
“Huh?” She looked up in surprise.
The gentle warm breeze stirred their unbound long hair. Ye Jinglan’s dark eyes fixed on her. “Without you, Mianzhou would have been my lifelong responsibility.”
“Actually, you could...” She didn’t want to see him break his promise.
“No, I can’t.” His voice was firm. “Hiding you here to recover secretly is the same principle.”
“Mm, I understand.” It was all because of her. If that person knew she was still alive, they would persistently pursue her. Yunzhi... perhaps this was best for everyone.
“Once we’ve met your closest kin and I’ve laid down my responsibilities, let’s return here.” He kissed her brow, his touch sinking into her heart.
“Yes,” she replied with a smile, rising on her toes to press a kiss to his thin lips.
A muffled groan escaped Ye Jinglan’s throat. His slightly disheveled long hair fell onto her turquoise gown as his hands tightened around her slender waist. Step by step, he advanced, gently yet firmly pressing her against the window. Lips met, tongues entwined, and the person before him surrendered to his demands. In moments, their passion intertwined, his soft kisses deepening into something more fervent. Words of love spilled from him, too vast to be contained by mere whispers. His kisses trailed from her earlobe down her pale neck, slipping into the opening of her robe...
“Doctor Ye!” A loud voice rang out near the window. Old Li craned his neck to look. “Huh? Where is everyone?”
In the shadows behind the window, a pair of mandarin ducks bathed in the morning light, their necks intertwined. Yue Xia shyly hid herself in his embrace.
“Doctor Ye?” The window creaked open slightly, startling her into stiffening.
“Ho ho,” he chuckled softly, his voice low and intimate, using a sound-transmission technique while nestled in the crook of her neck.
Dissatisfied, Yue Xia squirmed slightly, suddenly meeting the heat beneath her. Slowly, very slowly, she raised her head to meet his phoenix-like eyes, blazing like the summer sun.
“Huh? Where did they go?” Outside, Grandpa Li scratched his head, puzzled, deciding not to push the window further. “We clearly agreed on this time... Strange.”
The footsteps gradually faded away. Behind the window, the two gazed deeply at each other, the morning light heavy with unspoken intimacy.
She drowned in those spring-like pools, nearly losing herself.
“Did I scare you?” His voice was hoarse, seductive.
Her delicate face flushed with a soft cherry hue, her brows filled with tender affection and bashfulness. The flowing waves in her eyes made his heart race, stirring his desires.
True, during that incident with Moon Lotus, she had been drugged and likely didn’t remember much. Thinking of this, his gaze darkened involuntarily.
“Doctor Ye?” Grandpa Li’s voice echoed through the courtyard.
In the shadows, he quietly watched her, his surging emotions overflowing but quickly restrained within his eyes.
After a moment, he calmly replied, “I’ll be right there.”
Startled, she lifted her eyes and reached out to grasp his sleeve. “Xiuyuan.”
“Wait for me to return.” Those two petal-like lips seemed steeped in Moon Lotus essence, impossible to forget once tasted. One kiss, one sigh—pregnant with complex, powerful thoughts.
Xiuyuan…
Standing by the window, she watched his tall, elegant figure gradually disappear into the distance. Not far away, amidst the drifting water lilies, he turned his head to look back. Their eyes met, and in that instant, she bloomed into a bewitching smile. Facing the morning breeze, she gracefully waved her hand, watching as a gentle curve formed at the edge of his lips. Beyond, the distant mountains stood serene as he, carrying his medicine basket, walked forward like a breeze, step by step entering the scene of a painting.
The faint fragrance of lotus drifted gently, her hair like willow branches brushing against her eyelids. This scent—how could it ever fade from her memory after that night, when it lingered so hauntingly in her dreams?
“Miss, are you awake?” Granny Li called out warmly.
“Yes,” she replied, looking toward the window, her lips curving into a faint smile.
The wooden door swung open, and Granny Li entered, her voice full of energy. “You’re up early today!”
“Mm,” she said, her loose hair falling over her shoulders as she turned and smiled. The moonlit beauty in her eyes left Granny Li momentarily stunned.
“Granny,” she softly called, breaking the old woman’s reverie.
“Mm, what?”
“Today is the sixteenth day of the sixth month, right?” She lowered her head, twirling her long hair that hung over her chest.
“Yes, yes, why do you ask?”
“Could you please style my hair into a proper married woman’s bun?” She turned her back, her jet-black hair flowing like silk.
“Alright.” The sight of such beautiful hair set Granny Li’s fingers tingling with excitement, recalling her days as a hairdresser.
“Granny,” she murmured, lowering her face so her expression remained hidden. “Would it be alright if I prepared today’s meal?”
“You want to cook?” Granny Li looked at her in surprise. “Miss, your left hand still hasn’t healed. Perhaps we should wait...”
“Today is Husband’s birthday,” she said, lifting her head. Her eyes were dark as ink, rippling like flowing water, impossible to refuse.
“Alright, alright.”
“Thank you, Granny.”
That radiant smile left Granny Li momentarily dazed. Why did this girl seem different today, as if hiding some secret thought? The old woman’s fingers wove through Yue Xia’s hair, while the dew-like smile on her cherry lips trembled lightly, then slid off, glistening.
On the river, a small boat rocked with the oars, unable to bear the weight of the setting sun’s brilliance.
Ye Jinglan returned from the mountains, his medicine basket slung over his shoulder. At the village entrance, lotus pods swayed, and the breeze carried the refreshing scent of lotus flowers from the pond, cooling the skin.
“The fragrance of lotus flowers fills the pond; not wishing to be the king of a hundred flowers, but to protect the charming mandarin ducks in the water.” More than ten children jumped squares under the parasol tree, clapping their hands and singing nursery rhymes. “Though peonies are beautiful, they lack fragrance; though wheat flowers are abundant, they are coarse. Lotus leaves, flowers, and roots thrive together; round lotus leaves make fine clothes. Summer dew and autumn songs drip softly—what flower is more fragrant than the lotus?”
Ye Jinglan glanced indifferently at the laughing children, but then his gaze froze.
Among the playful “mudskippers”—children wearing short jackets and braided pigtails—a graceful figure in turquoise stood quietly. In her hand, she held a half-open white lotus, leaning serenely against the parasol tree. Her hair flowed like silk, her eyes shimmered like water, exuding an aura of tranquil elegance.
Seeing her absentmindedly lower her head, he stood several paces away, silently observing her, engraving her peaceful and relaxed demeanor into his heart.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted among the children. A little boy, pushed by his older siblings, stumbled backward. His skyward pigtail, tied with a red string, quivered as he pouted fearfully, glancing behind him.
“Go on! Go!” the older children urged.
The little boy moved forward on his short legs, both nervous and excited, approaching the graceful figure. He tugged at the distracted beauty and beckoned with his tiny index finger.
“Hmm?” Yue Xia teased, bending down to meet the boy who only reached her waist.
Ye Jinglan narrowed his eyes, striding forward like the wind.
Suddenly, the child stood on tiptoe, resolute as if facing death, and pressed his lips toward her.
“Ah?” She widened her eyes, startled by the sudden ambush. She stepped back, only to feel a familiar hand wrap around her waist.
“Xiuyuan?” She blinked her beautiful eyes, meeting his increasingly darkened handsome face.
“Run! Run fast!” the leader of the children shouted, and the “mudskippers” scattered in all directions.
“Waaah!” The little boy who had tried to steal a kiss burst into tears, crying to the wind. “Mother! Help! Mother! Little Fatty doesn’t want to die!”
This child cried so exaggeratedly that Yue Xia sighed, raising her hand to her forehead. Unexpectedly, she caught his glare, brimming with murderous intent.
“Xiuyuan,” she laughed softly.
“Let’s go home.” Standing tall and stern like a pine tree, he pulled her slim waist without room for refusal, walking forward with domineering confidence.
“Is Xiuyuan jealous?” she teased playfully.
“Yes,” he replied, turning his gaze toward her, his eyes filled with the glow of the setting sun.
Her smile faded at his honest confession. In the dim orange afterglow, she obediently nodded, her slender fingers clutching her robe...
Something about her was off. Ye Jinglan sharply caught her stolen glances, gazing deeply into her eyes. Instantly, her clear and elegant face flushed crimson. Yue Xia awkwardly picked at her food, her eyes fixed on the simple dishes on the table.
“Doctor Ye, does today’s meal suit your taste?” Granny Li finally spoke up, unable to bear the silence any longer.
“Mm,” he replied, temporarily releasing his scrutiny of someone and nodding politely.
“Is it better than usual?” Granny Li leaned forward to observe, drawing frequent glances from Grandpa Li.
“Tsk, isn’t it the same as always?” the old man muttered dismissively, only to receive a merciless pinch under the table from his wife.
“Uh, uh...” the old man chewed his food, his brows furrowed in pain.
Ye Jinglan noted the couple’s peculiar behavior and thoughtfully glanced at the person beside him.
After a moment, a faint smile spread across his face. “It’s delicious.”
Her beautiful eyes instantly lit up, spilling over with moonlight-like radiance.
Indeed, he ate elegantly yet quickly, finishing his bowl and refilling it fully, contentedly enjoying the simple dishes.
“Are you finished?” he asked, glancing at the two elders.
“Mm, mm,” the old man replied, though he secretly wanted another bowl. However, hindered by the invisible claw pinching his leg, he reluctantly agreed.
With a warm glance at the expectant beauty beside him, he poured the remaining dishes into his own bowl.
“Is it really that good?” Grandpa Li grumbled, taking a sip of wine. Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, the invisible claw beneath the table struck precisely, leaving him choking on the wine, unable to swallow or spit it out, his old face turning red.
“I’m finished,” he said softly, his deep phoenix-like eyes gazing ambiguously at the person beside him. “It was good.”
“Mm,” she replied, her eyes brimming with joy as she extended her right hand to clear the bowls and chopsticks.
“Let me do it.” Ye Jinglan pressed down her small hand and began stacking the ceramic bowls.
“Go on, both of you, back to the house,” Granny Li shooed them away.
“Granny,” Yue Xia murmured softly.
“Don’t fight over it anymore, or this old woman will get angry,” Granny Li feigned irritation.
“Thank you,” Ye Jinglan said graciously, then took the beauty’s hand, slowly walking toward the back room.
“What a divine couple,” Granny Li remarked, watching the two walk side by side in the twilight. She nudged her still coughing husband. “Old ghost, don’t you think so?”
“Cough! Cough! Cough!”
The southern wind settled quietly on the leaves. Birds grew weary, flowers slept, and the room echoed with the soft sound of water.
She sat by the bed, trimming the candle wick. Her elegant profile was reflected in the window. Her hands trembled involuntarily as she listened to the silent man washing himself with cold water.
“Xiuyuan.”
“Mm.”
“Are there things even Xiuyuan can’t do?” She rested her chin on her hand, staring at the flickering flame, trying to calm her racing heart with idle chatter.
The sound of water gradually diminished. After a moment, a low response came from behind the upright shirt. “Yes.”
“What is it?” she asked curiously, blinking.
“Letting you get hurt.”
She lowered her eyes, the warm lamplight reflecting in them. “Besides that?”
The water sound resumed, and he spoke calmly. “Undoing the fleeting bloom of the Ephemeral Flower .”
“The Ephemeral Flower?”
“A kind of poison,” he explained.
“Is it incurable?” She extended her index finger, letting it dance through the flame.
“Not exactly. There are two antidotes for the Ephemeral Flower: the heart of a phoenix or the liver of a lover. Either one will suffice.”
“So isn’t that essentially incurable?” She furrowed her brows, thinking. “Phoenixes are ancient mythical beasts, appearing only in legends. And the liver of a lover... wouldn’t consuming it leave one heartbroken?” Frustrated, she became distracted and forgot her finger in the flame, burning it.
“Ow.” She winced, and in an instant, her slender finger was enveloped by his mouth.
An unusual tingling sensation shot up her finger, igniting a fire in her heart. Her heartbeat quickened as she looked at the beloved man before her. After a moment, she finally mustered her resolve. “Xiuyuan.”
“Mm.”
“Today is your birthday.” Her chest rose and fell slightly.
“How did you know?” He looked surprised.
“Uncle Song told me.” She slowly withdrew her hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Xiuyuan.”
“Mm.” His gaze lingered on her simple yet beautiful married woman’s bun, the sweetness welling up in his chest slightly easing his earlier dissatisfaction at being left alone to bathe.
“What should I do?” She frowned, her face full of regret. “I can’t sew, so I can’t embroider a sachet for you.”
This girl was trying to please him. His mood brightened, and he softly said, “The meal was delicious.”
“Huh?” Yue Xia looked up, startled, meeting his clear, penetrating gaze.
“Actually...” She nervously tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. “I have another gift.”
His phoenix-like eyes seemed to understand, glancing at her hairstyle.
“It’s not that.” Yue Xia took a step back.
His gaze locked onto her blushing face. Whether in court attire or a woman’s dress, she had never seemed so flustered, her unease carrying a strange undertone.
“This gift is...” Her eyes darted around, as if hesitating over something. Suddenly, she lifted her face, flushed red by the candlelight. “Me.”
His handsome eyes churned with overwhelming emotion. Narrowing his gaze, he stared at her almost hungrily, making her feel as though she might be devoured whole.
Instinctively, she retreated, but she couldn’t escape his intense gaze.
“Qingqing.” After a moment, he reined in his intimidating stare and spoke in a measured tone. “Don’t casually say such things.”
Casually? A spark of anger ignited in her heart, burning away her earlier shyness. “I’m not saying this casually.” As she lifted her eyes, she knew she was lost. Those spring-like, shimmering eyes rippled and swayed, their emotional tide impossible to suppress.
It seemed... she had fallen into his trap. Irritated by her impulsiveness, she turned toward the bed, thinking that if she buried herself under the covers and slept until morning, everything would be fine. Fine, it would be fine.
Before she reached the edge of the bed, her right wrist was firmly seized.
She didn’t turn around, only shyly tugged at her arm. That hand was slightly warm, and as the night breeze blew, a faint herbal scent wafted from behind her.
“Tell me, why?” His tall frame pressed close, his whisper tinged with anticipation.
She lowered her face, the soft yellow candlelight tracing the contours of her exquisite features.
“Why, Qingqing?” Unable to restrain himself, he gently nibbled on her small earlobe, causing her to tremble uncontrollably.
“Because...” She paused, then whispered softly, “Every time I wake up in the middle of the night, your hand is always on my...” She glanced down at her left chest, her earlobes flushed red.
Since her coma, he had developed this habit, never expecting it to be misunderstood. But it was fine—this outcome pleased him immensely.
“I thought you wanted it.” Crimson clouds spread across her neck.
“I do want it,” he murmured. “Very much.”
“Will you think I’m being casual?” She cared deeply about that statement.
He chuckled softly, turning her to face him. His night-darkened pupils gleamed unusually bright. “That was my trick.” He admitted openly, unwilling to mar this night with even the slightest flaw. “I want you, Qingqing.”
He kissed her lips, savoring them as if they were a treasure.
“Xiuyuan...” Her trembling voice was barely coherent. “You’ve become wicked.”
“Ho ho.” At her words, he chuckled deeply.
His tongue burned like fire as it invaded her lips. With a stretch of his long legs, he backed her against the edge of the bed.
“Ah.” She gasped softly, and in an instant, he gently laid her down.
His long hair cascaded like a waterfall, enveloping them both like countless rain threads. She opened her crescent-moon-like beautiful eyes, their innocence tinged with naivety. “Xiuyuan.”
“Mm, I’m here.” He removed his clothing and covered her body.
“Happy birthday.” Her red lips curved into a smile, and the private space filled with blossoming spring flowers.
Gritting his teeth, he restrained the overwhelming tide of desire and reached out to untie her carefully styled bun.
“Ah, it took so long to style this hair.” She glanced at the strands scattered around her neck.
He lowered his handsome face, planting delicate kisses on her hair, her brows. “From now on, Ye Jinglan will only paint your brows and style your hair for you.”
“Mm.” Her heart and body tingled under his feather-light kisses, and mist gathered in her eyes. “Mm,” she repeated, her jade-colored arms wrapping around his neck. “Husband.”
Her passionate murmur nearly drove him over the edge. With his knee, he parted her slender legs, his kisses trailing along her jade-like arm, finally landing softly on the scar on her left shoulder.
He kissed her so tenderly, like spring rain soaking into her heart.
Her eyes grew warm, though her lips curved slightly in a smile. She had fallen into his trap, into his heart.
Her clothing was quietly removed, and she felt his cultivation.
“Mmm...” She suppressed the shameful moans rising in her throat.
“Don’t hold back, Qingqing.” His breath grew uneven, struggling to rein in his impatience.
“Xiu... Yuan...” She bit her lip, half-sobbing.
“I’m here.” He gently stroked her hair, whispering reassurances into her ear. “I’m always here.”
“Mm.” She moaned melodiously, her voice intoxicating his senses like a nocturne.
The humid wateriness swirled in her eyes, her soft murmurs fragile, as if a single breeze might scatter them. Waves of fiery heat swept over her body inch by inch. In her haze, she heard his soft call and smiled, lifting her head to cover his thin lips.
Suddenly, a sharp tearing sensation below. Her delicate brows furrowed into a shallow “川.” She endured it—the pain was nothing compared to the agony of parting, to the sorrow of separation across the realms of the living and the dead. Tears welled in her eyes, not from pain, but from joy.
“Qingqing.” He kissed away the “川” between her brows.
“Xiuyuan.” She caressed his chest. “Husband.”
He relaxed, igniting a fiery assault, scorching their shared brilliance.
“Qingqing.”
“Mm...”
“Let’s have a child.” He was lost in her enchanting gaze, unable to pull himself free.
“Alright...” Her beautiful face radiated a smile as she turned her head, admiring their intertwined black hair and feeling the heat within her.
“Just one,” he murmured into her ear, ideally a daughter.
She tightened her arms around his narrow waist, trembling as she asked, “Why...”
“Qingqing.” His voice was hoarse as he chuckled, kissing her hair. “You talk too much.”
After that, she could no longer ask questions, her crimson lips pouring forth captivating moans.
Inside the dim yellow window, her beautiful body undulated like flowing water. The pure lotus, kissed by the night, quietly bloomed, glistening with dew and exuding a faint, lingering fragrance.
We made an appointment, to paint the western chamber together.
Tonight, who is whose brush, who is whose scroll? What unrestrained feelings do these poetic lines express?
At midnight, the soul dissolves in boundless spring. A bright moon hangs perfectly on the branch.
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