#55: Into His Arms

Shi Luoyi drank the tea A’Xiu had prepared, then went to reinforce the protective formation in the courtyard.

Though this small courtyard appeared ordinary, it held great significance. Shi Luoyi had previously intended to find a safe haven for Bian Lingyu amidst the chaos of the world and had brought treasures from Buye Mountain used to construct barriers. Even if the sect leader were to come, breaking through the courtyard would take considerable effort.

While inspecting the barrier, Shi Luoyi discovered Cangwu hiding furtively.

“Don’t attack, don’t attack—I’m on your side!”

Cangwu hurriedly defended himself. Liu Shu and A’Xiu were startled—how had they not noticed someone like him in the courtyard?

“If you claim to be on our side, then who are you?”

Cangwu hesitated, unsure how to fabricate an identity as a great demon beast. After a moment, he stammered, “I… I am Bian Lingyu’s cousin.”

Shi Luoyi: “….”

She didn’t believe a single word. How could she not know that Bian Lingyu had a cousin? Before, Bian Lingyu only had his sister, Bian Qingxuan. Later, when Bian Qingxuan disowned him, did Bian Lingyu suddenly gain a cousin out of nowhere?

Seeing Shi Luoyi sizing him up with her blade in hand, Cangwu broke into a cold sweat.

“And what’s your name?”

“Cang… Bian Cang.”

Before Shi Luoyi could respond, A’Xiu exclaimed in surprise, “If you’re cousins, why do you share the same surname?”

Cangwu hadn’t expected his lie to backfire. After his master ascended, everyone who encountered him wanted to recruit him, but he chose to avoid mingling with cultivators and instead secluded himself to cultivate. He had naively assumed that all relatives shared the same surname.

Seeing Cangwu at a loss for words, Shi Luoyi sheathed her blade and glanced toward the inner courtyard. Cangwu’s appearance was likely tied to Bian Lingyu’s secret. Since she couldn’t extract anything from Bian Lingyu, perhaps she could start with Cangwu. With a kind smile, she offered him an explanation: “You follow your mother’s surname?”

Cangwu quickly nodded.

Shi Luoyi masked her amusement, her gaze lingering on Cangwu’s blue robe. The color felt strangely familiar. While blue wasn’t uncommon, a radiant, flame-like shade of blue was rare.

Shi Luoyi blinked.

In the evening, Grandma Zhao prepared dinner, and Shi Luoyi went to the backyard to look for Bian Lingyu.

The rain had stopped, and Bian Lingyu remained by the pill furnace, still seated in the same spot. Aside from the darkening sky, he seemed like an unmoving jade statue.

Shi Luoyi deliberately made her footsteps heavy as she approached Bian Lingyu. He kept his eyes lowered, cold and indifferent, refusing to look at her.

She thought to herself, He’s still stubbornly holding on.

Shi Luoyi crouched beside him, her voice soft as she tugged at the hem of his robe. “It’s time to eat, Bian Lingyu.”

“… Why haven’t you left yet?” Bian Lingyu continued staring at the pill furnace, not sparing her a glance.

In the past, Shi Luoyi might have been angry. But now, Bian Lingyu’s current state reminded her of her late mother. When Princess Wanxun learned that the Dao Lord had exhausted his cultivation to save her, she cried bitterly in private but coldly tried to drive him away in person.

Thinking about how Bian Lingyu might also be facing unsolvable problems, alone in the shadows perhaps grieving deeply, her heart softened, tinged with a bittersweet ache.

Shi Luoyi simply couldn’t bring herself to be angry with him; she treated his behavior as mere sulking.

“It’s too late tonight. I’ll leave tomorrow.” Of course, there was no way she’d actually leave—she was just trying to placate him for now. First, she needed to get him to eat properly. Grandma Zhao mentioned that Bian Lingyu often ate very late, letting his meals grow cold, which worried her about his health.

After she spoke these words, Bian Lingyu’s hand paused as he added firewood.

Shi Luoyi asked, “Can we go eat now? If you’re worried about leaving the pill furnace unattended, I can…” She began performing a spell to maintain the fire beneath the purple clay furnace.

Bian Lingyu intercepted her hand.

“What? Can’t it be touched?”

Bian Lingyu gave a faint “Mm,” causing her to laugh. “I never knew you were so stingy!”

Treating a simple purple clay furnace like a precious treasure.

Nevertheless, Bian Lingyu silently followed her to the dining hall. Perhaps her promise to leave tomorrow worked wonders—it was the first time in days that he had eaten on time, even temporarily neglecting his pill furnace.

When Bian Lingyu entered the dining hall and saw Cangwu seated at the table, he realized he had suddenly gained a “cousin”: “….”

Cangwu avoided eye contact, finally realizing his hasty fabrication had caused trouble. His clumsy lie left him too embarrassed to meet Bian Lingyu’s gaze.

But Bian Lingyu wouldn’t expose him either.

Four people sat at the table: Bian Lingyu, Cangwu, Shi Luoyi, and A’Xiu.

Liu Shu and Grandma Zhao were eating in the side hall. When called over, they firmly refused, citing propriety.

A’Xiu felt uncomfortable. Back in her village, her family’s dining table consisted of her unrefined mother and brother, while her father, a doctor, carried some semblance of dignity—but none compared to the heavenly figures gathered here.

To her right sat Shi Luoyi, and across from her was Bian Lingyu. Even Cangwu, with his handsome features, looked striking. This left A’Xiu burying her face in her bowl, too shy to look up.

Initially tense, A’Xiu gradually relaxed as Shi Luoyi engaged her in conversation.

Both girls were lively by nature. Shi Luoyi recounted a few amusing stories from her childhood about exorcising demons with Shi Huan. Captivated by the tales, A’Xiu loosened up and eventually revealed much about herself, even venting about her selfish mother’s plan to marry her off to an old man as a concubine to secure a bride for her brother.

Listening to her story, both Shi Luoyi and Cangwu couldn’t help but feel sympathy and indignation.

Only Bian Lingyu remained impassive, silently gazing at the dim yellow light, wondering how things had turned into this warm scene.

The spring rain had long ceased, and the cool breeze of the evening wafted through the courtyard, gently swaying the hairpin in Shi Luoyi’s hair.

The meal consisted of simple farm dishes. Having taken in Grandma Zhao, she repaid the kindness by preparing these dishes with great care, making them exceptionally appetizing. Knowing Bian Lingyu needed nourishment, she specially brewed a pot of rich chicken soup.

Bian Lingyu, however, had little appetite and didn’t touch the soup.

Shi Luoyi ladled a bowl and pushed it toward him. At some point, she had stopped listening to Cangwu and A’Xiu’s chatter and instead propped her chin on her hand, watching him with a warm smile.

Bian Lingyu hadn’t planned to drink it, nor did he intend to.

But thinking about how this might be his last day to witness such a scene, he ultimately drank the entire bowl of soup.

Let this be, he thought, my final indulgence and act of rebellion.

After dinner, everyone dispersed. A’Xiu went to help Grandma Zhao hang out the laundry, and Bian Lingyu ignored Shi Luoyi, returning to guard his precious pill furnace.

Shi Luoyi practiced her swordsmanship for a while, noticing that Bian Lingyu wasn’t paying attention to her. She then deliberately sought out her “cousin” to talk. She had Liu Shu bring over two jars of strong liquor and asked Grandma Zhao to prepare some marinated meat dishes. Gesturing for Cangwu to join her, she began setting up their little feast.

Cangwu hesitated. “Is this really appropriate?”

“Are you refusing to recognize me as your sister-in-law?” She brought out two vessels—a bowl larger than a face and a delicate wine cup.

Placing the large bowl in front of Cangwu, she said, “Please, dear cousin. My husband says all men of the Bian family are bold and drink like this regularly.”

Cangwu: “….” He was somewhat alarmed, never imagining that someone who appeared as refined as a gentle breeze or a bright moon could drink so heartily. Steeling himself, he picked up the oversized bowl.

“Sister-in-law, please.”

After three rounds of drinks, Shi Luoyi sat beneath a tree, gazing at the spring scenery outside, and casually asked, “How long have you known your cousin?”

Cangwu’s eyes were hazy, a chicken leg in hand. After some mental calculation, he instinctively replied, “Almost half a year.”

Shi Luoyi suppressed a laugh. “So do you know what kind of pill he’s refining?”

“I don’t recognize it; I don’t know how to refine pills.”

“What if, after Bian Lingyu passes away, I remarry? Do you think he’d be upset?”

Cangwu recalled those tranquil, indifferent silver eyes and sympathetically replied, “If he knew, he’d probably leap out of his coffin in anguish.”

“So shouldn’t he cherish the time he has now even more? He’s already so badly injured. Cousin, are you alright?”

Cangwu’s gaze was vacant, completely unaware that he was being tricked into revealing information. “I’m fine. I just got hit by Bian Qingxuan, but my wound healed quickly. He went to slay Zhu Yan.”

“Bian Qingxuan, Zhu Yan…” Shi Luoyi softly murmured these words. The tangled mess in her mind finally cleared upon hearing these names.

She recalled the moment she leapt off the cliff, intending to become a blade spirit. She had been resolute in her decision to die but was caught at the last moment.

She remained stunned for a long while, wanting to laugh but feeling more like crying. “So that’s how it is… It’s truly like this…”

Her father once said that if a calamity threatening to destroy the six realms descended, divine beings would appear. They would sacrifice themselves one after another until death.

The colossal beast that helped her through two lifetimes, the cultivation technique that prevented her from falling into demonic possession, the book in Bian Lingyu’s alchemy room labeled with the name Tianji Pill —and now, the purple clay furnace he guarded.

Why had Hui Xiang said that Bian Lingyu had long harbored feelings for her?

It turned out that ten years ago, they had already formed a connection.

Bian Lingyu, despite being covered in wounds, ensured she survived. In her previous life, Shi Luoyi hadn’t done a single good deed for him. She treated him disdainfully, humiliated him, inflicted her worst cruelty upon him, and even chose to die in a dilapidated temple rather than return to check on him.

She covered her eyes, tears seeping through her fingers. Could there really be such foolish divine beings in the world?

In the blood-soaked fields of Wangdu Sea, she thought she had found a surviving divine beast by chance. Knowing they fought for the six realms, she used her meager strength to protect them along the way.

Now she realized that their first meeting had occurred when she saw those calm, icy silver eyes beneath the pile of corpses.

Shi Luoyi stood up. Cangwu still had no idea that he had completely betrayed Bian Lingyu, deeply immersed in his role, convinced he had performed brilliantly. Dazedly, he saw Shi Luoyi preparing to leave. “Sister-in-law, where are you going? Aren’t you drinking anymore?”

“Finish eating and go to sleep, little cousin. I’m going to check on your cousin.”

Only a few buds remained on the apricot branches. Though dark clouds still hung in the sky, the promise of tomorrow’s clear weather was evident. Gradually, Cangwu fell asleep under the tree.

He dreamed a pleasant dream, in which his master returned to see him.

His master asked if he blamed her. His lips curled into a smile, his eyes shining brightly as he rubbed against her affectionately. “No blame, no blame! How could I ever blame you? Everything was my choice!”

Meanwhile, Shi Luoyi leaned against the corner gate, watching Bian Lingyu refine pills for a while. Her tears had not yet dried, and droplets clung to her lashes. When she impulsively ran over, her heart was filled with confusion and sorrow.

But the moment she saw Bian Lingyu, Shi Luoyi’s heart suddenly calmed.

She could guess what was inside the pill furnace—the flesh and blood of a god… the Tianji Pill.

Bian Lingyu seemed to sense something and glanced over.

Without knowing why, Shi Luoyi instinctively hid behind the wall. She vaguely understood why she did this. The budding seedling of affection in her heart had silently grown into a towering tree in that instant.

She had thought no one cherished or loved her throughout her life, yet someone had already paved her path with their bones.

Her tear-filled eyes gazed at the flickering candlelight in the courtyard, feeling somewhat foolish for her actions.

She didn’t disturb Bian Lingyu, allowing him to do what he wished. If Bian Lingyu was indeed a divine being, reaching this point must have left him with no other options. She didn’t want to pressure him further. She wanted both of them to be happy and tried to see if there was any way to save him.

If their time together was truly so short, she had no choice. But at least, she would walk as far as she could with him.

When Bian Lingyu returned, it was already very late.

He likely knew he couldn’t avoid Shi Luoyi tonight and deliberately delayed until the third watch of the night.

During this period, Bian Lingyu was still suffering from the backlash of the Soul-Cleansing Pills but could still move freely.

Seeing Shi Luoyi lying on the bed with her back to him, he silently watched her for a moment before removing his shoes and climbing into bed fully clothed.

A blanket lay between them, but he didn’t pull it over himself, instead staring at the pitch-black window.

Thinking about her departure tomorrow, he eventually turned to look at her after a long while.

That blanket became the clear boundary between them, like the dividing line of a chessboard.

He dared not touch Shi Luoyi again. After a long while, Bian Lingyu closed his eyes calmly.

Surrounded by the scent of the young maiden, he felt he had no regrets, nor did he feel sorrow or pain. For the sake of a Tianji Pill, he hadn’t slept for days.

But the moment he closed his eyes, a soft sound echoed, and a warm body suddenly rolled into his arms.

Bian Lingyu was startled for a moment, frowning as he opened his eyes.

Only then did he realize the person in his arms wasn’t asleep.

Shi Luoyi sighed, speaking with righteous indignation. “I know you’ve set your heart on Miss A’Xiu now. Why are you avoiding me? I’m leaving tomorrow anyway. Miss A’Xiu is indeed adorable. After much thought, I’ve decided to bless your union. But can I at least have a farewell hug? Is that too much to ask?”

As she spoke, she tightened her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead against his chest.

Bian Lingyu’s heartbeat thudded loudly, nearly making Shi Luoyi dizzy, but he ultimately didn’t push her away.

No matter how calm he tried to remain, parting felt like a blade slicing through him, causing a faint ache.

Shi Luoyi lowered her lashes, inwardly marveling at how useful the phrase “I’m leaving tomorrow” truly was.

Bian Lingyu remained still, allowing her to rest against his chest. Shi Luoyi had the vague illusion that, like this, she could make her way into his heart.

Coming back to her senses, she realized she had already been there for a long time.