Chapter 96: Heartache

"You came, are you going to agree to follow me back?" Wei Lingfeng stared at the dark, glittering lake surface, not turning back, yet suddenly spoke.

I gazed at his black long hair, the moon-white hair ribbon, fluttering in the clear breeze, sweeping bit by bit across this starry night. Is this person really grieving? How can someone hide their pain so deeply, without a trace?

Seeing my silence, Wei Lingfeng slowly turned around, his deep eyes meeting mine, and my whole body trembled slightly.

He stepped forward two steps, raised his hand to touch my slightly cool face, a wave of warmth, "Bingyi, will you come back with me?"

I hurriedly stepped back, feeling embarrassed, having clearly promised Chengyou to come persuade him, yet I didn't know what to say.

Wei Lingfeng's free hand paused slightly, a bitter smile flitted across his face, his voice soft, "I really just want to drag you back like this. Even if you hate me, even if Qiran hunts me down, I wouldn't hesitate."

"I... I'll go back." I suddenly stepped back again, truly I shouldn't have agreed to let Chengyou bring me here. What can I do for him? Besides refusing again, what else can I do?

My wrist tightened, my escape halted midway, my whole body suddenly felt a willow-fluff-like warm softness, and I breathed in a faint sandalwood scent mixed with dragon saliva.

Though I'm not one to easily remember others' scents, I finally... still remembered the scent of this man before me.

I sighed, pushed my hand against his chest, about to push him away, when my whole body suddenly shuddered violently.

That soft yet crystal-clear voice trickled into my ear, conveying from my heart: "Just a little while longer will do."

The arms holding me tightened further, so tight it seemed not to want to fuse me into his body, but to hide himself inside me, so he would never have to face any sorrow again.

His face was buried deep in my neck, the pressed strands of hair sticking to the skin on my collarbone, burning with numb pain. His arms locked tightly around my waist, the force almost enough to snap me in half.

I couldn't move an inch, neither body nor heart. For the first time, seeing such fragility, stark and unguarded, in Wei Lingfeng—the emperor who always stood above all—how could I push him away, indifferent and uncaring?

Beneath the lake's rippling glow, our two silhouettes flickered in and out, inseparable.

But I know, I must push him away.

"Don't move!" Wei Lingfeng suddenly lifted his head, yet pressed my face gently against his chest, the hand around my waist turning soft yet still firm, "Bingyi, didn't you say people always have moments of weakness?"

I blinked, lifted my head to look at his handsome face, where a quiet stream of deep sorrow flowed.

My heart suddenly softened to an aching tenderness, I whispered tremulously, "Wei Lingfeng, does your mother's death pain you greatly?"

Wei Lingfeng suddenly tightened his hold, pulling me close into his embrace, his mournful voice like winter snowflakes gently sweeping past my ear: "Winter wanderings, like watery clouds and snow filling the head, whose youth knows no sorrow? Even heartless, falling into dust and mire, gazing at each other... laughter never ceases..."

Scalding liquid trailed down my hair, I never lifted my head, never had the courage to see the face of this emperor who seemingly shouldn't be weak, weeping. People... always have moments of weakness, tears not lightly shed, merely not yet reached the point of heartbreak.

Wei Lingfeng, perhaps even more anguished than Qiran. Because he holds beautiful memories of childhood spent with Leng Zhuoxi, feelings buried deepest in his heart, the purest longing. Thus he would stop at nothing to take Leng Zhuoxi away and care for her well.

His warm body pressed against me, trembling slightly. His voice was neither hoarse nor choked, but soundless syllables: "Bingyi, even if I grow stronger again, what good is it if I can't even protect my mother..."

I slowly extended my trembling hands, and still embraced that strong yet fragile, trembling body. I couldn't answer you, nor could I comfort you; I only hoped to give you at least some warmth.

The moonlight remained tranquil.

"Wei Lingfeng." I sat cross-legged by the lake, weighed the small pebble in my hand, then lightly tossed it, sending up a spray of water.

He likewise sat by the lake, shoulder to shoulder with me, glanced over lightly, his face no longer showing the earlier distressed sorrow.

I looked at him, eyes focused and sincere, then spoke firmly: "I truly like Qiran. I will absolutely not leave him. Because without him, I couldn't survive in this world."

Wei Lingfeng's expression paused slightly, then he smiled leisurely: "Do you mean to tell me that you originally don't belong to this world?"

I blinked, then vexedly flung another stone aside, helplessly saying: "Please, just listen to the point, why cling so tightly to subtext?"

I brushed the grass off my hands, adopted a solemn expression facing him, tone as calm as I could manage: "Let me put it this way! Wei Lingfeng, I am indeed not of this world; I came here because a space-time tunnel happened to twist anomalously, pulling me from my... hometown to the Heaven Harmony Continent."

A hint of bewilderment flickered in Wei Lingfeng's eyes; I couldn't help a quiet laugh, you also have times you don't understand? After composing myself, the real point follows, I continued: "In our world, there are no emperors, no privileges, everyone enjoys equal rights. Cough... those aren't the point. In our homeland, men and women are equal, we advocate free love, law stipulates a husband may have only one wife, and vice versa. If the couple disagrees, either party can file for divorce..."

I paused, looking at his expressionless face, somewhat nervous and also headachy, "Um, Wei Lingfeng, did you understand my meaning? You're an emperor, destined for three palaces, six courts, seventy-two concubines, yet I absolutely cannot accept sharing a husband with another woman. Leaving other matters aside, just on this point, we two are impossible."

Wei Lingfeng stared blankly for a moment, brows furrowed, about to speak, but I abruptly cut him off: "Don't talk about dismissing the harem or abdicating in favor of the worthy. You know that's impossible. Being an emperor, one who can let the realm's people live in peace and prosperity, is your lifelong dream. You couldn't abandon it for anyone. Yet you should also know that to become an emperor, you must lose many things ordinary people possess—like love, like familial bliss. An emperor may be affectionate, but cannot be exclusive. Because the imperial harem is not merely a symbol of the wife; it is also a place for power struggles and balance. If you discard those consorts, you also lose the support of those officials. Then, could your lifelong hegemony truly still be realized? Imperial exclusivity is calamity. Whether toward the one you love or the one you neglect, it is utterly unfair."

At some point Wei Lingfeng unfurrowed his handsome brows, merely watching me speak in silence. Only the luster in his eyes remained undimmed, not lessened in the slightest.

"Finished?" He calmly regarded my startled expression, the corner of his mouth lifting in a gentle smile, he raised a hand to lightly tug at my disheveled hair, then tucked it behind my ear, "I truly have no idea what goes on in that little head of yours each day. Having spoken, it's now my turn to speak. Bingyi, all you've said are matters I must handle, unrelated to you in the slightest. You need only answer me: are you willing or not to stay by my side..."

The corner of my mouth twitched; it seemed my words were all for naught. I let out a long sigh, stopped looking at him, and slumped: "Sorry, I'm not willing."

My arm suddenly tightened, I sideways fell into Wei Lingfeng's embrace, lying ambiguously on his thigh, facing his deep, smiling countenance, his voice languid: "My words aren't finished yet; regardless of whether you're willing or not, I won't let you go. One day..."

"Don't say another word!" I snapped, struggling to rise, but he held me down with a single hand. My expression panicked, yet I suddenly lay still before him, voice trembling: "Wei Lingfeng, I won't utter that foolish 'just friends' talk again; let us become strangers if need be..."

"Too late..." Wei Lingfeng's expression softened yet resolute, his eyes deeply locked onto mine, then he lowered his head and pressed a deep kiss upon my lips.

Lips parted, he lifted his head to look at my repressed fury, his fair cheeks in the moonlight seeming to gleam, "Bingyi, I can't let you go. It's not that I haven't thought of releasing you; I simply can't."

I closed my eyes, suddenly wanting to weep for this damned tangle of feelings, then opened them—my eyes were now resolute.

Wei Lingfeng blinked, a fleeting hint of sorrow flickering in his eyes, then he nonchalantly released his hold.

I shot upright, said nothing more, and retreated the way I came. The sound rode on the cool breeze, making me shiver involuntarily.

"Bingyi, remember this. My not taking you with me this time isn't because I'm wary of Qiran, nor because I'm willing to let go, but because I want to give you one last chance at freedom, to indulge you unconditionally one final time. There will be no next time."

I staggered past Chengyou, whose expression was odd, without pausing to wonder why he looked that way, and fled.

Anxiously, I returned to the palace, simply rinsed in the outer bathhouse. A clean white gauze nightgown hung on the rack, prepared daily by the palace maids. I slipped it on lightly; the silk felt smooth, cool and comforting against my skin in a way words can't capture.

I alone lit a lamp, pushed the door open and entered the bedroom. Though the palace actually keeps ether gauze lamps lit all night, walking alone through this vast hall, a sense of loneliness is inevitable.

Back when I was in the Cangxue Kingdom, Qiran accompanied me to sleep every day. When I was in Luoying Gong that day, at least there was also Xinhui and... Wuye keeping me company.

I sighed long, shut the door, turned and lit the candles on the stand. The dim room instantly grew considerably brighter.

A faint chill seeped in, goosebumps rose all over my body, I couldn't help shivering, turned toward the soft bed, thinking: These days I'm indeed exhausted. Fortunately the chest pain hasn't flared up again, Qiran's method...

"Ah—" I lifted my head and suddenly met a pair of deep blue eyes, a tall, slender figure hidden in the darkness, now visible, now dim. Intense shock and tension struck, my heart felt as if emptied of breath; after calming, the oppressive pressure in my chest noticeably eased.

I patted my chest, looked at the arrival, and snapped irritably, "Qiran, don't you know scaring people can scare them to death?"

Qiran stepped closer, half-leaning against me, his icy-blue eyes flickering: "So late, where did you go?"

My heart clenched, I couldn't help but give a dry chuckle, fully aware my expression now betrayed guilt proportionate to my nervousness: "Just went out for a walk... ah—"

Qiran thrust out a big hand, shoving me hard against the window, pressing his body close. His blue eyes blazed with fire, his face a mask of ice, devoid of any warmth or pity: "Since you can't let go of your elder brother, why not just go with him?!"

"Qiran, you're crazy, it hurts!" A "crack-crack" sound of joints grinding came from my arm, my hands wrenched behind my back, immobile, the freshly scabbed skin feeling as if it were about to be torn apart.

Qiran clamped one hand around my struggling body and hands, the other pressed a flame-like heat against my cheek, then suddenly lowered his head and crushed his lips onto mine, gnashing and tearing, devoid of any hint of affection, only blazing fury.

My arm ached and numbed, my lips burned, yet that was nothing compared to the dread welling up inside. Qiran has gone mad—what on earth is happening? What should I do? If this continues... if this continues, he'll destroy both of us.

Resolute in my heart, I suddenly threw caution to the wind, bent my left leg, and slammed it hard into his knee.

He cried out in pain, his grip loosened slightly, I then used all my strength to push him away, fleeing desperately toward the outside of the door.

I'm so scared! Really so scared! In those eyes, there was not a hint of warmth; though they reflected me, they seemed empty. That person, so familiar, rooted in my heart day after day, yet so alien as to make me tremble, he…

The door handle was right before my eyes, yet the fear in my heart only grew, never lessened.

Sure enough, my body suddenly lifted into the air, thrown heavily onto the bed, my form sinking at once into the soft velvet. Seeing Qiran about to press down on me, I panicked and shouted, "Qiran, don't do this!" I summoned all my strength to roll over, heedless of how disheveled I looked, crawling toward the edge of the bed.

Suddenly a scorch on my ankle, then I was violently yanked back, falling again into the velvet. My body sank, Qiran's body pressed tightly against mine, the high-quality bed shook violently, the black dragon‑patterned canopy swaying before my eyes.

"Qiran, what on earth is wrong with you?!"

"Hiss—Pop—" The white gauze I had just put on seemed made for him to easily remove. But Qiran didn't take it off either; his five fingers grabbed my collar and tore hard, turning my sleepwear into ragged white strips, the skin on my chest faintly visible in the candlelight.

Qiran lowered his body and buried his face in my chest; a tingling heat surged from my breast outward through my body, accompanied by a hoarse, tear‑tinged moan that burst from his throat, and I couldn't help trembling all over.

"Qiran! Don't joke!" At that moment I finally realized Qiran was serious. The fear in my heart, like fine sand in a broken funnel, suddenly began to trickle down, turning into a swirling storm.

I shoved and hit him like a madwoman, my voice hoarse and unpleasant.

No joke—even if it were Qiran, even if it were you, I wouldn't want to have relations under these circumstances! Otherwise, what would I do after waking? If you say a word, I'll take responsibility; or if I curse you, I'll hate you?

Qiran suddenly grabbed my struggling hands and pressed them to the two sides of the soft bed.

Qiran looked down at me from above, his eyes blazing, desire burning wildly, his face icy to the bone: "You and him—is it more than just a contract marriage?"

I jerked awake from panic, the alarm in my eyes slowly turning to surprise: "You know?" Actually it's not strange—the contract is on the Step Killer, so Qiran could naturally have seen it.

A cold smile curled Qiran's lips as he suddenly lowered his head, his tongue tip slowly tracing from my lips over my collarbone, chest, and abdomen, continuing downward…

"Qiran——" I cried out, my voice suddenly choking with fear and hoarseness: "Don't do this, please, please don't… what… what exactly happened? What's wrong?"

Hearing my plea, Qiran's expression didn't change in the slightest; the cold smile at his lips widened, while the fire of desire in his eyes blazed like a prairie fire: "Just a one‑night husband and wife, and you can't forget me?!"

I widened my eyes in shock, my hands pinned at the sides, my clenched fists slowly loosening. Qiran—what was he saying?

Qiran had been staring at me unblinkingly; seeing my expression, for some reason the cold smile at his lips faded, his handsome face clearly showing extreme pain and extreme hatred.

He suddenly yanked my both hands up above my head, one hand pinning them, the other mercilessly tearing away every remaining piece of my clothing; moments later I shuddered, discovering I was left completely naked.

"So these past days you've been avoiding me, yet running off to tryst with him?!" He lunged forward, savagely biting my neck; I painfully trembled all over, a strange surge of emotion flared up, and I couldn't help moaning through tears.

"So you ignore me, yet wear a tender expression in his arms?!" Qiran gripped me with one hand, then suddenly lifted my waist; his hoarse voice, choked with an unstoppable sob, seemed not my own as it burst forth again.

"No……" I struggled, twisting my body, but that only made the weight on me hotter; through tear‑blurred vision I saw Qiran's face, his eyes filled with desire.

It wasn't a glance or a fleeting look—I truly gazed into them. My heart jolted violently, as if something had shattered in an instant, and everything became crystal clear.

This person is Qiran! The Qiran who would rather die than let me come to any harm! The Qiran I love deeply!

He has repeatedly tolerated me, cared for me, even forgiven me; and I…… what have I ever done for him?

I suddenly stopped struggling; my hands, free for some time now, remained dumbly raised above my head. Tears slid down the corners of my eyes, and I silently cursed in my heart: "Idiot," not knowing whether I was damning him or myself.

I lifted my sore, numb arm, traced a small arc in the air, and clung tightly, tightly to him.

Qiran's movement paused slightly, the room fell silent at once, leaving only my soft sobs and his heavy breathing.

"Sorry, sorry, Qiran!" I clung tightly to him, our naked bodies pressed together, my face buried deep in his chest, voice trembling with tears: "I didn't intentionally avoid you, nor did I refuse to comfort you. I simply didn't know how to help you. I know you're in pain, yet I can't truly feel it; I know I should be by your side now, but I…… I even forgot the pain of my mother's death—how could I comfort you? I'm only afraid my coldness will disappoint you…"

I tightened my hold on him, my heart soft yet aching: "I never imagined that would actually make you suffer more. Sorry…… if…… if, doing this, if our intimacy could ease your pain even a little, then please, go on……"

"Big brother……" Qiran's full weight pressed onto me, his voice so low I couldn't tell whose it was: "Why that expression while holding him?"

I blinked, recalling Chengyou's strange expression; suddenly everything became clear—originally, Qiran had been nearby then, no wonder he went berserk tonight.

"I didn't go out of my way to comfort him; I just happened to run into him……" I unconsciously smoothed Qiran's somewhat messy hair, my voice still hoarse but unusually gentle and soft: "Qiran, I might truly have special feelings for Wei Lingfeng— I myself can't sort them out. Yet I really love only you, wanting only to be with you. Please believe me on this."

Qiran tightened the hand pinned beneath me, his body pressed tightly against mine, the burning heat and painful anger slowly fading.

(End of chapter)