Chapter 7: Friend

Bu Sha strode up to me, grabbed that black stone and smashed it onto the ground, shouting angrily: "What on earth are you thinking? Why is the Black Tortoise Stone still here with me?"

I, already dizzy and light‑headed, now felt as if tens of thousands of horses were galloping past my ears.

I strained to open my eyes, picked up the Black Tortoise Stone and held it in my palm; in the wind, my bare body seemed ready to collapse at any moment. My voice weak but firm: "Qi Ran… are you alright?"

Bu Sha stared, unable to utter a word; his lips trembled slightly, the hand at his side clenched until his knuckles whitened. Yet he finally loosened his grip, his voice carrying self‑reproach, compromise, and anguish: "Don't worry, Qi will be fine."

"Is that so?" I laughed, sincerely.

For a moment, it felt as if some pain in my heart had suddenly vanished, and the last bit of strength supporting me was also drained away. I felt myself sway, my voice sounding far away: "Bu Sha, thank you… turn back…"

My vision went black, and my consciousness drifted away.

"Bing Yi…"

In that final instant, I felt someone rush over like an arrow and embrace me; the shock and anguish in their eyes gradually faded from me, and everything went dark…

To be honest, when my consciousness slowly returned, I actually wished I could stay unconscious, because at least then I wouldn't feel the burning pain on my shoulder.

In my haze I felt a pair of hands gently touching the wound on my shoulder; it was strange that wherever those hands went, I felt an indescribable cool comfort. I gritted my teeth and forced my eyes open.

A head of silky black hair hung silently before my eyes, unbound and unadorned; in the sunlight streaming through the window it glowed with a faint gold, yet grew ever more dazzling. Delicate, slender fingers carefully tended my wound, their movements so gentle they seemed to be protecting a most cherished treasure.

My heart felt warm and moist, and I softly said: "Qi Ran."

Qi Ran's motion paused for a moment; he smiled warmly and lifted his gaze to me, his peerless face appearing before my eyes without any guard.

His face was very pale—I couldn't tell if it was from his recent serious wound healing—and even his lips lacked any color. Yet this in no way diminished his gentle, spring‑like warmth and his clear, water‑like handsome appearance.

His deep icy‑blue pupils quietly reflected my dazed self; the tenderness, pity, and heartache in his eyes almost completely melted me.

I tried awkwardly to turn my face away, not realizing it would tug at the wound on my face, causing me to grimace in pain.

Qi Ran hastily held my face, urging in a low voice: "Don't move, your wound hasn't healed yet!"

While he helped straighten the collar of my clothing, the icy touch of his fingers sent a shiver of tingling through me, and my face flushed crimson in an instant.

I let out a foolish hehe laugh and said: "It's rare to see Qi Ran's true face! Compared with my own face, now bearing a new scar, it makes a striking contrast."

I had been joking, trying to ease the atmosphere, but Qi Ran didn't get it at all; he simply lowered his head and stared fixedly at my eyes, unblinking. Unexpectedly, Bu Sha's signature expression—cold and ruthless—also appeared on Qi Ran's face.

His thin lips were pressed tight, his blue eyes darkened, suddenly losing all luster, and beneath his lightly furrowed brows they became even more profound. My heart inexplicably raced a few beats faster.

"Qi Ran…" I swallowed hard, his exquisite visage fixed on me in this ambiguous pose—really, should I say I'm lucky or unlucky?

"Um… how is your wound?"

"Why did you deceive Bu Sha?" Qi Ran stared at me. Sigh, when did his voice become so icy? "Why did you stay behind alone?"

I recalled Bu Sha carrying him as he gradually drifted away from me; for some reason I unconsciously avoided his piercing gaze and said lightly, "Nothing, I just don't want to owe anyone a favor." Where does this tearing pain inside come from?

Qi Ran grabbed my chin in one swift motion, forcing me to face him; his cool fingers applied little force, yet were gentle and resolute. His face drew closer, the anguish in his eyes instantly shattering my feeble pretense. Strands of his dark hair brushed my cheek as he said: "I want you to look at me and speak."

I blinked, trying to dispel the misty moisture, but scorching tears still slid down the corners of my eyes, burning the fingertips of his hand that held my chin.

"Qi Ran…" I choked out, "You… were injured because you saved me. How can I just watch you suffer and die?"

Qi Ran stared blankly, then released his hold, his gaze sorrowful as he looked at me for a long time. Suddenly he bent over and pulled me into a tight embrace, so tight he forgot the still‑crimson wound on my shoulder, so tight it seemed he wanted to embed me within himself.

"Bing Yi, do you know?" His voice trembled, revealing boundless helplessness and fear: "When I woke and couldn't find you, when I saw Bu Sha holding you, drenched in blood, I was truly terrified…"

I inhaled the faint valley‑like fragrance on his body, and my heart suddenly became as clear and tranquil as an undisturbed pool of water.

Bearing the pain in my shoulder, I raised my arm and returned his embrace, my voice still trembling with tears as I shook the tears from my eyes: "Qi Ran, I'm actually scared too."

I buried my face in his chest and wept freely. I don't want to admit it, but when Qi Ran fell before me, when Bu Sha looked at me with hatred, when Qin Ye tore my clothes, I was truly terrified.

At one moment I even felt as if I were about to fall back into that bloody, dark life.

Fortunately… I said with a hoarse, crying voice: "Thank goodness Bu Sha has come back… we're still friends, right?"

Qi Ran said nothing, just held me tighter and tighter.

Though the pain made me grit my teeth, I couldn't help laughing in Qi Ran's arms, as if I'd seen the image of happiness—winged, like an angel circling above my head.

Yet faintly, a sense of unease was slowly growing. A voice from somewhere far away said to me: "Shui Bingyi, you will one day have to return."

My wound only began to truly improve on the third day; although the scabbed area started to itch, it was still far better than the original tearing pain.

Qi Ran told me what had happened that day. It turned out that before I lost consciousness, Qin Ye's right arm had already been cut off by Bu Sha; all that blood and those anguished cries came from him.

After I passed out, Bu Sha simply held me, gripping his blood‑dripping sword, and walked out of Meng Kuo's entourage; no one dared to step forward to stop him. Ah, I imagine the sight must have been magnificent—what a pity I missed it.

I also didn't see Bu Sha again until the third day after I woke up.

He seemed to have traveled a dusty road; his face looked somewhat weary.

Seeing him, I disregarded Qi Ran's attempt to stop me, sat up excitedly, and called out: "Bu Sha, you're back?"

He glanced at me, said nothing, walked straight to Qi Ran and handed him a pill.

Qi Ran glanced at that black, fingernail‑sized pill, his expression turning harsh; he suddenly grabbed Bu Sha's collar and roared like a madman: "You're going back again? How can you dare to return?"

"Take it, or else your original internal strength will be completely drained." Bu Sha said coldly.

"What use is internal strength to me now…"

Bu Sha suddenly tapped Qi Ran's acupoint, shoved the pill into his mouth, and then smoothed his breath with a pat.

I was startled, jumped up to question him, but saw Bu Sha instantly release Qi Ran's acupoint again.

Qi Ran broke into a dry cough, as if trying to vomit the pill he'd swallowed; his jade‑like complexion flushed crimson, I felt a pang of sorrow, rushed to his side to help him regulate his breath, and when I looked up at Bu Sha I couldn't help feeling a twinge of anger.

"What exactly did you make him take? He doesn't like it, why force him? Do you…"

"A medicine to save his life."

"Even if it's life‑saving…" I blinked, "You said… life‑saving?"

All along I've felt that after waking I seemed to have forgotten something important. Was it… Qi Ran's injury? That day I took his pulse; the pulse pattern, now that I recall it, also gave me a chill.

But after waking, he had attentively cared for me, appearing perfectly healthy, so I didn't press further. Now, however, the more I think about it, the more alarming it becomes.

Qi Ran stopped coughing, his face icy cold as he looked at Bu Sha and asked: "This time, what does Cold Jade want you to do again?"

Bu Sha turned his head, lowered his eyes, and gave no answer.

"Answer me!" Qi Ran shouted. I had never seen him so agitated.

His strikingly beautiful face was flushed crimson like blood; suddenly, another cough, and bright red blood spurted from his mouth.

"Qiran——" I didn't mind being drenched in his blood, and in a panic I grabbed him and shouted.

Bu Sha's expression changed drastically; his icy eyes could no longer hide his panic as he shouted, "Don't circulate your qi, gather your breath!"

"Speak!" Qiran's hand, which was supporting my body, was crystal clear and slender, stained with specks of blood, trembling incessantly.

Bu Sha clenched his fist, then relaxed it, finally turned his head away, and said calmly, "I helped him kill the Prime Minister of Qi State, Ye Chengyu."

Qiran stared blankly for a moment, then burst into a bloody laugh that sounded especially sorrowful, his heart aching: "Good! Good, Cold Jade! More merciful than I expected… cough, cough… it's just killing a person."

"Qiran!" I turned and clung tightly to him, desperately trying to warm his constantly trembling, cold body, "Qiran! Please don't be like this—Bu Sha knows exactly what he's doing!"

"Does he know?" Qiran shoved me away, spat another mouthful of blood, and gave a grim smile: "Just because he knows, does that mean he can go kill people? He knows, yet he still returns to his old life?"

"Qiran." I suddenly released my grip on his collar, feeling only anguish and endless pity, and quietly looked at him: "The one who doesn't understand is you."

I stared unblinking at Qiran's absolutely beautiful face, my voice calm and indifferent: "You say Bu Sha is no longer the Bu Sha of before. But you don't realize— the Bu Sha of the past lived for slaughter, while the Bu Sha of now lives for you."

"To him, this world has no distinction between past and present; he has never even considered whether killing is right or wrong. He cares only for you. If you don't want him to kill, he won't. If you want him to leave his old life behind, he'll do so without looking back. But remember this: all of this rests on the foundation of your being alive. Without you in his world, what difference would past and present make? Qiran, do you truly understand that obsession and resolve?"

Qiran stared at me blankly, his blue eyes bewildered and shocked, as if he had never understood what I was saying.

I stopped speaking, waiting for him to slowly digest these words. This kind of baseless faith and obsession— someone as kind-hearted as Qiran would find it hard to understand, right?

I once lived like that myself, so although those days are now past, I still understand this feeling to the core.

"I used to be the top assassin of the Cold Moon Sect…" I never expected that the first voice to sound would be Bu Sha's icy tone.

"No!" Qiran suddenly snapped out of his shock, wanting to stop him, but seeing his expression, then glancing at me, he finally sat down quietly.

"Cold Moon Sect?" What kind of sect is that? I couldn't help but wonder.

"Assassins of the Cold Moon Sect are forced, upon swearing allegiance, to have a Blood Parasite implanted in their bodies."

"A Blood Parasite?"

Bu Sha ignored me and continued: "Once the Parasite Poison enters the body, there is no cure; if the antidote isn't taken monthly, the pain becomes unbearable. After three days, the poison begins to devour the body, and within seven days the host turns into a zombie‑like puppet."

I stared, mouth agape, unable to move for a moment, then whispered hoarsely: "So what about you now…?"

"The Blood Parasite has been removed by Qiran."

Thank goodness! I secretly breathed a sigh of relief, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off— Qiran's inner energy was so chaotic, could it be because…

(End of chapter)