Like years ago, when An Jiu witnessed her father forcing drugs on her mother but could only pretend not to know. Later, after her mother’s death, she faced the culprit daily, calling him father with a forced smile. She could only secretly dream of making him pay dearly for her mother’s death, living in constant fear of becoming his next test subject. That hatred, brewing for so long, turned into a murderous intent. Finally, one day, she could no longer endure…

The suppressed ferocity within Gu Jinghong was even more terrifying than hers back then.

If not exploding in silence, one perishes in silence. Such extremes leave no other path.

This was one reason she had always been reluctant to approach him.

Gu Jinghong noticed her, paused and looked down at her. Suddenly, he smiled, “I expected you’d come sooner or later.”

His clear, mellow voice wasn’t loud, but it carried through the howling wind.

Gu Jinghong raised his hand, and a long rope whipped out, pulling An Jiu onto the roof.

Standing high, the wind was even more biting. Even through her veil, An Jiu felt the knife-like wind cutting her face.

“Want a drink?” Gu Jinghong offered her the wine jar.

An Jiu took it but didn’t drink. “I came to ask about my mother. What will it take for you to tell me?”

Gu Jinghong took back the jar and drank. “She’s in the Longwu Guard, secretly rebuilt with the Emperor’s permission. Most people don’t know about it. I was responsible for recruiting her. She passed the secret trials and is now nominally in the Shence Army.”

He lifted his hand to remove the demon mask, his eyes smiling. “If you have time, why not drink with me?”

The wind blew his hair messily against his face. An Jiu saw that beneath the demon mask, he wore no other covering! His skin, rarely exposed to sunlight, was as white as a night-blooming cereus. His facial features were soft yet carried an indescribable air of authority. This face wasn’t as stunningly handsome as she had imagined, but it was incredibly captivating. One glance into those clear yet profound eyes could make one lose themselves.

Gu Jinghong said, “Try some?”

“I don’t drink,” An Jiu stared at him steadily. “Are you… planning to kill someone important?”

Gu Jinghong paused, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling,” An Jiu replied.

Someone like Gu Jinghong, who killed as easily as breathing, shouldn’t be emotionally affected unless the target was someone he greatly valued.

“Yes, someone important,” Gu Jinghong sat down dejectedly.

They remained like that, one sitting, one standing, until nightfall. Gu Jinghong finally spoke, his voice muffled, “You’ve got your answer. Why haven’t you left?”

“You took off your mask. Were you trying to seduce me into drinking with you? If I left, wouldn’t you feel rejected?” An Jiu asked seriously.

Gu Jinghong looked up at her, strands of black hair falling across his face, his narrow eyes half-hidden. A smile gradually appeared on his lips. “You’re quite interesting. But you’ve always been wary of me. Why suddenly care about my feelings? Did my seduction work?”

Gu Jinghong could read minds, but with An Jiu, he didn’t need to discern the truth in her words.

An Jiu was silent for a moment, then said, “You still haven’t told me how to find my mother.”

“Why should I tell you?” Gu Jinghong said coolly.

“If you won’t tell me, then forget it.” An Jiu turned to jump off the eaves.

Halfway down, she felt a tug around her waist. Looking down, An Jiu saw Gu Jinghong’s rope wrapped around her again. She drew her dagger and slashed hard.

The seemingly ordinary rope wasn’t cut. An Jiu rubbed it forcefully several times before finally seeing it fray halfway.

Gu Jinghong approached the edge, holding the wine jar and looking down at her. “You’d better look below.”

An Jiu paused, glancing down. Cold sweat broke out on her back as she saw a bottomless abyss below! But in a blink, An Jiu spotted the illusion. The mirage gradually dissipated, revealing thick snow beneath.

An Jiu swiftly cut through the remaining rope, landing steadily on the snow. She looked up at him.

Through the fierce wind and snow, Gu Jinghong laughed more freely. His tall figure stood like a sturdy pine in the gale, his handsome face bearing a smile tinged with desolation, like a banished immortal or a demon.

An Jiu wanted to leave, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot. If back then, when she was on the verge of a breakdown, someone had listened to her pour out her secrets, if someone had pointed her in the right direction, would she have avoided that path of no return?

“What’s troubling you?” she asked.

“Don’t ask why. Just share a drink with me, and consider it…” Even in the next life, I, Gu Jinghong, will remember this kindness.

“Alright.” An Jiu reached out her hand.

Gu Jinghong lowered the rope.

An Jiu grabbed it and leaped back onto the eaves.

They sat down, and Gu Jinghong picked up a large cloak from the roof ridge, draping it over An Jiu’s head.

Her vision was obscured, she pulled it down slightly to uncover her face. She hesitantly took the wine jar, but only sipped a small amount.

Gu Jinghong took it back and drank deeply.

They drank in silence, and soon the jar was nearly empty.

A flush appeared on Gu Jinghong’s fair cheeks, his gaze unfocused. An Jiu felt that when he looked at her with that smile, even the night seemed to brighten.

“Gu Jinghong, you must return alive,” An Jiu awkwardly comforted him. “Even if you feel hopeless now, as long as you’re alive, you’ll find life interesting again someday.”

“I won’t survive,” Gu Jinghong smiled bitterly.

Wine glistened on his lips, his eyes half-lidded, his expression full of confusion and suppressed emotion. “I was born because someone needed me. My birth was to fulfill someone’s needs. From the moment I was born, I was a crucible.”

An Jiu’s eyes widened, “Even men are used by the Emperor for…”

“Ha!” Gu Jinghong laughed. “If that were the case, do you think the current Emperor would still be alive today? These hands of mine have never failed to take a life.”

If he spoke, she would listen, but she wouldn’t pry. An Jiu had her principles about this: the more you know of others’ secrets, the more dangerous it becomes.

“Not all crucibles need to sacrifice themselves in that way,” Gu Jinghong drained the last drop of wine. “They want my life…”

An Jiu frowned, “Why not resist?”

“Of course, I’ll resist,” Gu Jinghong raised his hand, and for an instant, the surrounding wind and snow seemed to freeze. “If they want to take what’s mine, they’ll pay the price! They can take my life, but…”

Gu Jinghong smiled coldly, “I must destroy what they value most.”

“You… is there no other way?” An Jiu asked.

Gu Jinghong remained silent. He had been searching for alternatives all these years, but they all led to dead ends. “I always thought that by making myself useful, I could survive. All these years, I’ve completed countless tasks for them, but this is still the outcome.”