Chapter 70: Happiness

The wound didn't show any improvement until the third day, and I could barely walk a few steps without anyone supporting me. The frustrating part was that Qiran said the cold qi in my body hadn't been fully cleared, so I had to tear the wound open again.

However, "tearing the wound" doesn't literally mean cutting it with a knife; it means applying a special medicine to the wound, causing the previously scarred area to bleed again. Naturally, the three days of pain and bed rest are unavoidable.

"Alas!" I let out a long sigh, running my hand through my freshly bathed, flower‑scented damp hair, and wondered whether I should discuss with Qiran just to ignore those cold toxins, since the worst outcome would merely be a less smooth flow of my inner true qi.

"Miss," Xin Hui supported me to the doorway, a mysterious smile on her face, "The Young Master is surely waiting for you in the room again, so I won't disturb you…." She finished, and without waiting for my stunned reply, left with a mischievous grin.

I was speechless, shook my head, pushed the door open and went in.

Three days ago Qiran began sharing a room with me. It was limited to sharing a room, which really isn't something to make a fuss over; back in early spring in the outskirts, or when the inn had no vacant rooms, the three of us sleeping together was commonplace. Moreover, now our beds are still one in the inner chamber and one in the outer chamber.

The door creaked open, and a faint valley fragrance drifted in. I smiled lightly and indeed saw Qiran already seated on the outer chamber's bed, with the sleeping Xiao Yin beside him. His hair was slightly damp, gently clinging to his impeccably handsome face, and he wore only a white sleepwear made of snow‑silk, smiling at me.

The opened door let in a room full of moonlight, pouring over him like liquid mercury, as if a divine child had inadvertently fallen to the mortal world, even the nine nights of worldly dust unjustly wronged him.

It was truly… like a dream. My heart tightened, and I slammed the door shut, cutting off the ethereal moonlight outside.

"Come here." Qiran held a clean towel, lifted the sleeping Xiao Yin and placed him at the foot of the bed, gesturing to the spot beside him; his blue eyes and the corners of his mouth were filled with unmistakable gentle smiles.

He sat cross‑legged behind me, gently wiping my still‑wet hair with a cloth; a warm glow enveloped my whole body, and a few strands that fell and drifted by my ears were surprisingly already half‑dry.

It felt as if a white dove were tucked in my heart—joy, emotion, fear—all the uneasy anxiety of a dream tangled together. It was Qiran, using his inner force to dry my long hair.

"Huh?" I turned to look at Qiran, but caught sight of several items on the low bedside table and couldn't help a gasp: a handgun, a Jue, a backpack, a dagger, and a long‑unseen cellphone…

Qiran gave a faint smile, picked them up and placed them before me while continuing to dry my hair, saying, "These are all yours, right? Take a look to see if anything's missing."

"Qiran—" I turned, staring at him in astonishment, and asked, "What kind of mind do you and Bu Sha have? Don't you find these things shocking?"

Qiran's hand paused mid‑stroke, his lowered eyelids hiding his expression. He suddenly set the cloth aside, pulled me tightly into his arms, his head buried in my half‑dry hair, and after a long while, said gravely, "Don't tell me you don't belong to this world, don't tell me you have no right to love anyone; I don't want to know any of that. This time, no matter what, I will not let you go again."

At that moment I realized his chest had been empty for who knows how long, with nothing hanging there. When did Qiran… start knowing that?

I had overestimated my own reason and longing for my kin. Perhaps from the moment we reunited, certain things, certain people, a certain world were destined to be buried deep in my heart forever. With sorrow and happiness, bitterness and release, I half‑reclined in his arms, slipped my hand around his neck and clutched him tightly, choking out, "Qiran, have I ever told you that I miss you so much?"

Qiran suddenly tightened his grip, pressing so hard it felt as if he would melt me into his body, the pressure sending a numb ache through my wound. I didn't care, staying pressed against his side, gritting my teeth and repeating, "I miss you so much! And I'm sorry."

I inhaled the unique valley fragrance on his body, recalling his silent sobbing in the Xue Li Yuan, feeling like a distant past yet right before my eyes, "Because it's you, no matter how I struggle or deceive myself, I can't forget, I can't let go. Such a simple thing, yet I kept circling around, causing you sorrow and despair for so long before I finally understood. I'm sorry! Truly… I'm sorry!"

I rested comfortably in Qiran's arms, opened the silver‑white phone, and pressed the power button. A "Beep—" alarm sounded, the screen flickered twice displaying "Low Battery," then fell silent again.

"Out of power," I pursed my lips, skillfully opened the phone's back cover, removed the battery, examined it, and breathed a sigh of relief, "Luckily it didn't get damp. Tomorrow I'll put it in the sun to charge; this one can be solar‑charged."

"Solar power?" Qiran gave a helpless wry smile, "I'm actually curious now—what kind of world is yours…?"

I couldn't help but laugh, grabbed the handgun and the Jue, looked up and said, "These two are the truly formidable ones!"

Qiran took the Jue from my hand, exclaiming, "Isn't this just an ordinary bracelet?"

The Jue looks just like an ordinary bracelet, set with eight rice‑grain‑sized rubies. Six of them are simple decorations. The slightly brighter ruby among them is a trigger for the Jue‑silk; when pressed and released, the silk shoots out about three centimeters and won't retract for five seconds. The darker ruby is for firing anesthetic needles; a quick press, then a long press, releases a volley of five needles at once. If you don't look closely, you wouldn't notice.

I smiled faintly, pressed the pad of my index finger against the dark‑red ruby, gave it a light press and pull, and a strand of Jue‑silk, shimmering like gold and silver, trembled in the air.

I grabbed a copper ring from the bed frame, gave the Jue a gentle tug, and the copper ring snapped cleanly in two; I looked up proudly and declared, "Fine as a hair, soft as willow fluff, yet tougher than steel—that's my weapon."

"What a precise mechanism," Qiran's voice of admiration rang above me, his crystal‑clear, slender fingers moving before I could stop them, lightly touching the Jue‑silk.

"Ah!" I shouted, yanking his hand back, panicking, "There's a powerful anesthetic on it; it melts on contact, you can't touch it carelessly!"

"Don't be afraid," Qiran lifted the corner of his mouth in a faint smile, leaned down and gave a light peck at my lips, softly saying, "You've forgotten—my constitution is immune to a hundred poisons."

Right! The corner of my mouth twitched; I almost forgot that this guy can't even be called human.

"What about this one?" Qiran took the handgun, noticed his finger could fit into the trigger cavity, and a curious expression appeared on his face.

His attempt to pull the trigger startled me; even though I knew the gun's safety was on and the barrel pointed at himself, I couldn't help trembling, rushed over, and hastily removed all the bullets inside.

"Only five bullets remain, and they're too powerful to demonstrate, so let's fire an empty gun. Load it first, then…" I leaned against Qiran's chest, assuming a standard gun‑holding stance, "Align your sight through the small holes until it lines up with your target, then pull the trigger."

I looked up at Qiran's faint, gentle smile and said seriously, "Don't underestimate the power of a fired bullet! Since I came here, I've only discharged three bullets, one of which hit Bu Sha."

Qiran was slightly taken aback, frowned, and asked, "Did it hit?"

I nodded, "At that time, he had taken Yin Ziheng's assignment to assassinate me; I didn't recognize him, so I fired. Fortunately, at the moment I pulled the trigger, I recognized the blood‑sucking device in his hand, the bullet veered off, otherwise…"

Thinking of the danger then, I couldn't help a slight shiver; whether he killed me or I killed him, now that I think about it, I'm still a little scared, "Otherwise, the Wuyou Group would never have existed. Bu Sha… why did he collect the Four Sacred Stones? Why did he brazenly assassinate the emperors of the Yin and Yao nations? Who gave him that mission that morning? Qiran, Bu Sha is really strong. But being hunted by so many at once, I'm still worried…"

"I also…" Qiran suddenly tightened the hand that was around my waist, his voice low yet resolute, "Don't worry, he will be fine. He definitely won't be harmed!"

I sat leaning in Qiran's embrace for a long while, a thousand tangled thoughts swirling in my heart, pressing me to the point I could barely breathe.

It's already spring, yet a lingering chill remains; although this room is a warm pavilion, my single thin garment can't stop my limbs from gradually cooling. I'm still rather cold‑sensitive.

I got up, barefoot on the carpeted floor that still felt icy, turned around and said, "I'm going to sleep."

My hand suddenly tightened, a warm‑cool sensation spreading from my wrist through my whole body; I looked up in shock to meet Qiran's blue eyes, which had deepened and darkened, and an odd feeling rose in my heart.

"Qiran," I said, flustered and struggling yet unable to break free from his grasp, frowning, "I'm sleepy."

"Tonight, stay…" Qiran tightened his grip on my hand, pulling me forward a few steps, his flawless face bearing a faint hope and yearning, close enough to see.

A sudden shock struck my heart, and the word "good" almost slipped out, but my mind flashed back to that scar‑filled face and the master's voice saying "Young Mistress."

I knit my brows, strained twice with force but couldn't break free; a fire rose in my heart as I coldly said, "Young Master, you have a wife, concubines, and a pile of fiancées—how can you summon someone to share a bed, and I'm not even considered?"

Qiran kept his grip, tightening, almost pulling me into his chest; his blue eyes glowed with deep fire, and suddenly his mouth curved, his voice deep, "I haven't touched them."

"What?!" I blurted, a sudden, inexplicable surge of ecstatic joy welling up inside me.

Seeing my half‑smile, Qiran's eyes lit up slightly, a faint, radiant smile flashing across them.

My mind couldn't process, and suddenly everything blurred; I felt a whirlwind of scenes spinning 360 degrees. When I came to, I was lying face‑up, back down, gently pressed onto the bed.

Qiran placed one hand on my neck side, pulled the brocade quilt aside with the other, and when I regained consciousness, we were both tightly covered.

"Qiran, I…" I thought I'd just go back to sleep.

Qiran's mouth curled into a gentle smile, his two hands resting on my neck, looking down from above, "Marrying Yin Tianxue was the emperor's wish, and Shui Lianyue was also arranged by him. I was too desperate then, so I cared little about any of it. But I've never attended a wedding, let alone summoned them to share a bed… Bing Yi, I miss you too." Qiran brushed a hand across my face; his previously cool fingertips now seemed to carry a flame, lightly lingering on my cheek.

Delicate, handsome features, lake‑deep blue eyes, a faint valley fragrance. Wow—so… dizzy…

Qiran's face drew nearer, his warm, moist lips gently covering mine, exuding his unique scent, prying open my lips and teeth, then rotating, sucking. His slightly damp black hair fell and tangled with mine, indistinguishable whose it was.

I gently closed my eyes, responding clumsily, feeling with all my heart. My hand hanging at my side had nowhere to go, bewildered, I only clutched the sheets beneath me, until the sweat from my palm slowly dampened them…

This person… is Qiran, the man I love deeply, and have sworn to be together forever.

My swollen, sore lips, Qiran's breath grew scorching and chaotic, the fierce kiss left my lips, traveling from my chin, earlobe, neck, all the way to my slender collarbone.

His kiss seemed magical, spreading bit by bit, igniting my inner passion and desire inch by inch.

"Qi... ran..." I opened my watery, misty eyes and called softly; my voice came out not as a whisper but hoarse with desire and helplessness, echoing between us.

His blue eyes grew deeper, faint crimson fire flickering within. The hand that had been pressing against the back of my head withdrew, with Qiran's usual gentleness, stroking my flushed face, then slowly moving down to my fragile buttons, undoing them one by one...

"Ah—pain!" The wound was somehow pulled, sharp numb pain spreading from chest to whole body, making my originally rosy face turn deathly pale, brows knotted tight.

Qiran's motion suddenly halted, his blue eyes still lingering with desire and deep pity as he gazed at me for a moment, then he gave a helpless, self‑mocking wry smile and turned to lie beside me.

His hand still warm, he quickly pulled over my opened clothes, fastened them, then gently but firmly pressed my head against his chest, his voice still hoarse as he said lowly, "Sleep!"

"Qiran..." I buried my face in his chest, unable to keep from laughing. I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding tight, my heart and eyes filled with an irrepressible joy: "What kind of fortune lets me meet you, meet you, and be held in your palm, cherished and cared for?"

The night was deep and still.

The person in my arms had already fallen asleep, long dense lashes quietly drooping, casting a shadow on her smooth, slender, cream‑white face. Willow‑shaped brows curved, her nose small yet high, her rosy lips still bore the kiss's trace, red and tempting, the corners of her mouth holding an unfading gentle smile.

I never realized before how Bingyi could be so breathtakingly beautiful, so… stirring imagination. Qiran bitterly smiled, silently recited the Clearing Heart Mantra once, barely suppressing the fluttering and restlessness rising in his chest.

"You heartless girl..." Qiran smoothed her slightly messy hair, gave a self‑mocking chuckle, muttered to himself, "If I had known, I wouldn't have thrust that sword; now, is this self‑inflicted?"

I dared not close my eyes, dared not lose consciousness, fearing that upon waking I would find emptiness and silence beside me—another dream.

His eyes, full of tenderness, suddenly held sorrow and fear: "If you knew the me of now, you could never go back to before; if you saw my cruel side, would you still feel fortunate, would you still… be unable to let go?"

His gaze fell on the red string around her neck; Qiran tugged it lightly, and a piece of pure white, warm‑to‑the‑touch snow jade slipped from Bingyi's collar, engraved with eight tiny characters—"Received by Heaven's Mandate, Dragon and Phoenix Bring Auspiciousness"—hidden within the layered filigree, invisible unless examined closely.

Qiran's whole body jolted; he had already guessed what this piece of jade was.

His fingers whitened around the jade, almost crushing it. Whenever he imagined Bingyi lying in another man's arms just like now, his chest ached as if pierced by needles, and he wished to tear that man apart limb from limb.

"Qiran..." the person in his arms seemed to sense the strange killing intent in the air, blinked open her eyes dazedly, and murmured, "It's so late—aren't you going to sleep?"

Qiran felt a pang in his heart, releasing the jade from his grip. Isn't it enough for him just to have Bingyi back by his side? Doesn't he… clearly know what he truly wants and cares about?

Qiran reached out and held her tight, murmuring, "Bingyi, you won't leave me again, will you?"

The one in his arms was clearly not fully awake, eyes unfocused and hazy, yet she suddenly gave a faint smile, took his hand resting at her side, laced their fingers, and mumbled, "Holding like this, holding tight, I can't run away. You can… sleep peacefully…"

Qiran stared blankly at their left hands clasped, her slender, pale fingers, momentarily lost. The person in his arms, as if reassured, lowered her long lashes with a faint smile, and before drifting into deep sleep whispered, "Hold your hand, grow old together."

Qiran's chest jolted as he looked at the girl leaning in his arms, smiling at the lips; for a moment he couldn't tell whether the turmoil in his heart was happiness or an unprecedented, deep longing for the future.

He closed his eyes, tightened their interlaced fingers at his side, and fell asleep peacefully.

(End of chapter)