Chapter 998: I Will Definitely Find You

"Fool..." Yan Xirou said softly, looking at Han Wuxian, who was soundly sleeping with his head resting on her thigh.

Perhaps it was precisely Han Wuxian's honesty, kindness, and refusal to abandon others that made Yan Xirou, for the first time, feel that the world might not be exactly as she had thought—full of profit and calculation, with not a trace of genuine feeling...

To put it bluntly, Yan Xirou also saw that Han Wuxian was probably no ordinary cultivator—either of extraordinary lineage or of astonishing talent. Either way, he was worth her investment and... exploitation...

But now, Yan Xirou has abandoned that line of thought.

She quietly set Han Wuxian down on the ground, glanced at the light outside the cave entrance, then turned back to look at Han Wuxian sleeping on the floor.

"We originally... shouldn't have... we're not of the same path," Yan Xirou said dejectedly, and walked out of the cave dwelling.

Meanwhile, Han Wuxian, still asleep, was unaware of Yan Xirou's decision. She left his side—first to protect him and draw other pursuers' attention; second...

Perhaps the two were never meant to be together.

That is Yan Xirou's true feeling.

The light outside the cave was somewhat glaring; Yan Xirou took one last deep, greedy glance at the sleeping figure. He slept so soundly, his brows relaxed as if a thousand-pound burden had been lifted, entrusting himself to her with complete trust—this trust now felt like a red-hot branding iron, scorching her heart.

She forced herself to look away, turned, and stepped into the light without hesitation. Each step felt like treading on thorns, yet her back remained straight, bearing an almost tragic resolve.

Inside the cave dwelling, silence returned, with only Han Wuxian's steady, long breaths echoing softly against the hollow stone walls.

He remained immersed in a deep dream, unaware of the imminent separation just a breath away, and oblivious that the woman who had just gently let him rest his head on her knee had already drawn a boundary in his heart named "Eternal Farewell".

Time slipped by silently as the angle of the sunlight outside the cave gradually shifted.

After an indeterminate span, Han Wuxian's eyelashes finally twitched, his consciousness rising slowly like a sunken ship. Instinctively, he moved his head, seeking the familiar, faintly cool, soft support, only to meet the cold, hard ground.

"Um... Miss Yan?" he mumbled indistinctly, his eyes lazily opening with the bewilderment of waking.

What met his eyes was the empty cave ceiling and the rough rock walls. No longer was there the delicate yet distant face, nor the eyes that now seemed to hold a multitude of tangled emotions.

Han Wuxian sprang up abruptly, his movements unsteady from haste.

"Miss Yan?" he raised his voice, a barely perceptible panic in it, his gaze scanning the entire cave dwelling anxiously.

No one was there.

The light streaming in through the entrance felt somewhat bleak. Inside, the cave seemed to lose all warmth in an instant, leaving only him alone and a sudden, overwhelming sense of emptiness. Her lingering scent hovered faintly at the tip of his nose, only accentuating the stark, piercing silence before him.

"Miss Yan!" he stood, his voice tinged with genuine anxiety, and hurried to the cave entrance. Outside, only the wind's wail through the valley and the quiet sway of grass and trees under the sun—no trace of Yan Xirou at all.

A cold unease seized him swiftly. He recalled her previously hesitant glances, the occasional vulnerability and struggle that starkly contrasted her usual aloofness. The lowered eyelids and forlorn tone when she said "We are not of the same path" now hammered his heart like a heavy mallet.

She left. Not merely a temporary departure, but with a resolute bearing, vanishing completely from his world.

Why?

Was it to lure away possible pursuers to protect him?

Or... did she ultimately feel she could not understand his world, his struggle, his darkness?

The thought of "utilizing" had once lingered in her mind; she eventually gave it up, yet chose an even more complete separation.

Is this abandonment a release, or a deeper self‑binding?

Han Wuxian stood at the cave entrance, the sunlight falling on him, yet he felt no warmth at all.

He gazed at the barren valley, for the first time feeling with such clarity a dull ache called "Loss". He had thought that having faced life and death together had broken that cold barrier, yet it had never truly vanished—only been temporarily hidden by her. In the end, she chose to return to the solitary path she had deemed her own.

He unconsciously clenched his fist, his nails digging deep into his palm.

A mixture of worry, loss, confusion, and a simmering anger churned in his chest. She left like that, without even a farewell or any explanation?

Was he treated like a fool, "properly" placed while ignorant and unaware, only to be abandoned alone?

"Yan Xirou..." he whispered her name, his voice filled with tangled emotions.

He looked around, trying to find any trace she might have left, even a single inscription on the stone wall would suffice.

Yet there was nothing.

Only a stone at the entrance, warmed slightly by the sun, seemed to retain a faint imprint of where she had sat. Han Wuxian stepped over, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the stone, as if he could still feel a trace of her lingering warmth.

He stood for a long while, until the sunset's afterglow painted the valley orange‑red. The evening wind brushed by, carrying a chill.

He finally moved, his gaze shifting from initial bewilderment and pain to a cold, hard resolve. He could not end things so ambiguously.

Whether she acted out of protection or outright rejection, he must find her. He needs an answer, one spoken by her own mouth.

Not to cling, but for that fleeting existence of "non‑abandonment" that once warmed his heart, and for the bond in his own heart that he cannot easily let go, a bond she severed unilaterally...

Han Wuxian took one last lingering look at the empty cave, the place that had briefly been their haven, now only a cold memory. He inhaled deeply, a lone‑wolf stubbornness in him, turned, and stepped without hesitation into the twilight‑shrouded forest.

His figure was quickly swallowed by the dense canopy, his sole goal: to find the woman who left without a word, Yan Xirou.

"I may not know what you're thinking, but I'm a grown man; I won't give up so easily. I suppose now you'd try every way to lure the Xuanmen pursuers, but as long as I follow them..."

Han Wuxian's expression turned solemn, as if he wasn't at all afraid that the Xuanmen would find him first; his words carried determination.

"I will definitely find you."