Chapter 87: Drinking Poison to Quench Thirst

Drinking poison to quench thirst

The girl supported her face with one hand, eyelashes slightly lowered, rosy lips lightly pursed; her fair profile, in the dim light swirling with faint glimmers, was covered with a hazy glow.

The silver-haired Sentinel eased his breath, as if afraid to disturb anything, and slowly walked to the guide's side.

The tall figure knelt on one knee beside the girl; he was so tall that this kneeling posture let him look straight at the girl resting on the boulder.

His clothing was slit in several places, revealing healed skin underneath, though the fabric still bore some bloody stains.

His hands hung at his sides, his gaze fixed on the girl, seeming somewhat dazed.

Not far off, a sound of breaking water came.

Xiguang slowly turned his head, looking at the Sentinel returning heavy with killing intent.

The merperson emerged from the water, lightly swaying his tail, his blue eyes staring straight at him; his expression still held the sharpness after battle.

Seeing this, he pulled back the corner of his mouth, revealing sharp teeth from his blood-red lips—a threat, a sign of displeasure.

Xiguang's pale gold eyes also sank a fraction, returning his gaze without yielding.

A cool hand brushed his forehead, touching it lightly.

Xiguang swiftly withdrew his gaze, looking at the resting girl; his eyes held a possessiveness he did not know.

Before him, long lashes fluttered, revealing pale blue eyes that gazed at him gently and calmly, then lifted to the merperson approaching over the water.

"Finished?" the girl's voice, no longer the initial coldness, soft from lack of rest and lowered guard.

As if his heart, free from the pain of tightened threads at all times, was soaked in a pool of gentle spring water.

Warmth spread from his limbs upward, gentle and soft, leaving him unable to refuse, like a frog soaked in warm water, watching himself drown in the warm water named 'Fu Guang'.

With Lan'an's emotions fluctuating, the originally fine threads tightened ever more around his heart, digging deep into his flesh, making it impossible for him to breathe; each breath brought pain.

"Fu Guang." He ground the name out between his teeth; the name was etched into his flesh, an unending pain.

The girl tilted her head, one hand pointing at her guardian Sentinel; her gaze toward him was calm and cold, unaware that his heart pounded for her.

Lan'an was somewhat annoyed, as if from the moment he first moved against her, the scales had already tipped to the other side; he had already lost on an unknown board, utterly defeated.

The pain in his heart grew denser, yet Lan'an slowly smiled, a glint appearing in his blue eyes—how could she not know his feelings?

She knew.

The threads will convey his feelings to her, right?

As a guide and a king, how could she not know his feelings at this moment?

But as a Sentinel, a subordinate, and even a puppet wholly belonging to his master, what right did he have to speak his feelings? He hesitated.

Fu Guang looked at the merperson in the deep sea, the sole source that could freely emit light there; its fish‑tail scales, in the gloomy depths, radiated their own light unrestrained.

"Go rest." Fu Guang lowered his eyes, gently closing them.

The merperson's emotions surged violently and chaotically, tangled in spiritual fluctuations, leaving her unable to discern them; she also truly lacked the energy to answer his confusion.

She was unsure whether this was a subordinate's submission or something else.

In her eyes, emotion was merely a fleeting impulse—gone in ten years, a hundred years, not even the face necessarily remembered, let alone the affection of that moment.

"Your thoughts are in disarray; calm down." The girl said this with a calm gaze; Lan'an momentarily envisioned her as a traveler who had seen the vicissitudes of the world, his feelings seeming trivial before her.

All of Lan'an's lingering feelings vanished in an instant; he simply looked earnestly at the girl and then said with a laugh, "Good."

But he did not leave; instead, he tidied his nest, then lay on the other side of the boulder, not far behind Fu Guang, already having the girl fully within his sight.

The silver‑haired man half‑kneeling on the ground had his pale gold eyes flicker for a moment, but his thoughts were unclear, his attention drawn to the soft hand on his forehead, presenting a dazed appearance.

Fu Guang sat upright, one hand releasing the little spirit from the mental vision.

Like after drinking fake liquor, the little spirit dazedly turned in a circle, then drowsily slumped onto Xiguang's silver‑long hair.

Golden eyes blinked, unfocused and dazed, a state of exhaustion bordering on confusion.

Fu Guang yawned lazily, intending to release "Rainfall" on the Sentinel to ease his condition.

But at that moment, a fish coiled behind her, pressing down on the hand she meant to use to unleash the skill.

Fu Guang glanced at the ever‑changing thoughts of the Sentinel; she was somewhat tired and really didn't want to speak, but her eyes made clear: "What are you doing?"

Lan'an reached out, half‑embracing the girl in his arms; behind her, where Fu Guang couldn't see, he somewhat addictively inhaled her aura.

Fu Guang...... she was just tired, didn't want to move, and wasn't deaf or blind; her spiritual power was unusable.

She used her spiritual power to push Lan'an, who was not like a mere fish, by pressing against his forehead.

"A Sentinel by the Guide's side is the best healing; the more skin contact, the better, without needing to expend extra energy."

Lan'an knew Fu Guang's temper was not good; if not for drowsiness prevailing and lack of danger, he would surely have been told to get lost.

If he gave no explanation, he would be punished, just as before.

The threads tightened again, the familiar pain sweeping over him, tingling and numb, to the point he grew somewhat accustomed to it.

"Fu Guang"—to him, that name carried blood and pain.

Drawing near her, his shoulder felt as if it would split, being wildly jerked by "that guy," driving him away.

It was the poisoned wine of drinking poison to quench thirst, the flame of a moth flying into fire—he relished it.

Fu Guang casually stroked the smooth silver hair, opened her mouth, and softly called "Xiguang."

"Here." Xiguang instantly responded from his dazed state, answering the guide's call.

"I'm tired." Xiguang lifted his eyes to the girl whose face was full of fatigue; for a moment he did nothing, while behind the guide the merperson glared at him twice, mouthed something, and embraced her.

Xiguang saw it, but did not move.

Lan'an thought about the future, working with such an inflexible Sentinel; he felt somewhat relieved, yet also had a headache.

Fu Guang's consciousness sank into darkness, then cleared for a moment.

His eyes remained closed, his lips opening and closing: "Give me wings."

This time Xiguang seemed to finally react, plucking the little spirit from atop his head; just as he was about to withdraw the mental vision, he saw the guide open her hand, he hesitated a moment, then tentatively placed the little spirit into the girl's hand.

Fu Guang tightened her grip, holding the warm, wonderfully‑to‑the‑touch hand‑warmer doll.

She felt her body shift slightly; familiar wings swept over from behind her, a warm touch came from the side of her face, and her vision went dark.

Finally she could sleep.

She finally thought.