Even if An Jiu had always been a normal person, she and Lou Xiaowu could never have become soulmates. They were two different types of people.
Some people may not always understand what you’re thinking, but they stand by you through life’s joys and sorrows. These are your true friends and family.
“I’m not sick anymore, and maybe I’ll never be sick again,” An Jiu said, patting Lou Xiaowu’s head. Her voice was drowned out by Lou Xiaowu’s sobs.
During last night’s close-quarters battle, An Jiu’s consciousness might have been consumed by bloodlust in the past. However, although she felt the excitement in her soul and blood, she remained clear-headed throughout—something that had never happened before.
Sui Yunzhu observed An Jiu’s behavior and gradually relaxed. She sat down and poured a cup of water. “I wonder what’s happening outside.”
“What do you mean?” Ling Ziyue turned to look at her.
Sui Yunzhu took a sip of water and smiled. “General Ling, don’t play dumb. If the Emperor were still well, the Konghe Army wouldn’t have suddenly fallen into such chaos. Since they dare to spread rumors about the Emperor’s impending death, it’s likely true. Can the Crown Prince and the Second Prince still sit idly by?”
“Last night in Bianjing… Ah!” Ling Ziyue could imagine what the capital had endured in such a short time. He felt both worried and excited. “Change is always good.”
On the path to decline and death, a sudden variable had appeared. Its impact was unpredictable—it could either accelerate the demise or lead to a phoenix-like rebirth.
At this moment, the oppressive feeling in Ling Ziyue’s chest suddenly dissipated.
Listening to Lou Xiaowu’s clear cries outside, Sui Yunzhu lowered her eyes to stare at her reflection in the cup. Uncharacteristically gossipy, she said, “Xiaowu relies heavily on you, General. If you could be with her…”
“There’s no general anymore,” Ling Ziyue said flatly. “I’m a few years older than you. If you don’t mind, just call me big brother.”
“Brother Ling,” Sui Yunzhu complied readily.
Ling Ziyue grunted in acknowledgment, then fell silent for a moment. “Xiaowu… deserves better. I’m old enough to be her father. Let’s not speak of this again.”
Ling Ziyue had already failed his wife. Even if a woman of equal standing were before him, he wouldn’t entertain the thought. “In this life, I’ll only have one wife.”
Sui Yunzhu looked up at him with a smile, her long, clear eyes seeming to see into the depths of his heart.
Ling Ziyue turned his head, avoiding her gaze.
Sui Yunzhu understood. If Ling Ziyue truly meant what he said, he wouldn’t have spoken so calmly. He would have shown anger. His composure likely stemmed from guilt. He might even feel that harboring such feelings for Lou Xiaowu was utterly despicable.
Sui Yunzhu gazed at the tall figure before her. When she first met Ling Ziyue, he wore armor and stood at the border like an indomitable mountain. Now, he had lost weight. His brow showed traces of world-weariness and gloom, making him almost unrecognizable.
Sometimes, Sui Yunzhu wondered if they should have saved Ling Ziyue. For him, perhaps dying under the corrupt government would have been better than living in disgrace.
For Ling Ziyue, living requires more courage than dying. He was undoubtedly a strong man. Even trapped in the abyss of regret and hatred, he never considered taking his own life. His sole purpose for living now was to wait for the day he could return to the frontlines and lead an army into the capital!
“Food’s here!” Li Qingzhi’s booming voice pulled everyone out of their thoughts.
Li Qingzhi and the medicine boy entered the room wearing straw capes, and carrying food boxes covered with a thin layer of steam.
An Jiu and Lou Xiaowu also returned.
Li Qingzhi, oblivious to the atmosphere, removed his cape and rubbed his hands together as he opened the food boxes. “Today, I, Old Li, cooked personally. Come and taste it! While staying on the island, my martial arts may not have improved, but my culinary skills have soared!”
An Jiu picked up a strip of meat and popped it into her mouth. She smacked her lips. “Congratulations.”
Li Qingzhi grinned foolishly.
“With two more years of effort, you might be able to make something edible,” An Jiu said, patting his shoulder encouragingly.
Seeing her reach for a bowl, Li Qingzhi snatched it away. “Hey! With my temper, how dare you complain when your cooking skills are no better! If you can’t eat it, don’t eat!”
“Your temper has certainly improved,” An Jiu said, reaching for another bowl. “Who said I wanted to eat the dishes? You didn’t cook the rice, did you?”
The rice was cooked by Sui Yunzhu, so Li Qingzhi couldn’t argue. He grudgingly picked up a few strips of meat and tasted them. “The flavor is good!”
“Fourteen’s palate has been spoiled by Lord Chu. Don’t take offense, Brother Li,” Lou Xiaowu said diplomatically. Then, she innocently held up one finger. “Fourteen exaggerates. It won’t take two years. I think Brother Li can make edible food in just one year!”
“Pfft!” Sui Yunzhu sprayed rice grains across the table. Noticing Li Qingzhi’s murderous glare, she quietly turned away with her bowl.
“Honest words cut like a knife; innocence kills without a trace,” Ling Ziyue commented, eating his rice in large mouthfuls.
Li Qingzhi felt wrong, but seeing Lou Xiaowu’s still-swollen eyes and her sincere “I believe in you” expression, he wondered if losing his temper would be too much.
Everyone except the medicine boy and Li Qingzhi was eating plain rice.
Li Qingzhi, rarely encountering someone who appreciated his cooking, suddenly found the medicine boy very likable. He kept adding food to the boy’s bowl. “Little Medicine, you’re still growing. Eat more!”
The medicine boy mumbled a response, shoveling food into his mouth, making Li Qingzhi beam with pride and satisfaction.
Seeing this, Sui Yunzhu felt slightly worried. Li Qingzhi was a genius in the realm of dark cuisine; his dishes could rival poison. The first few times Li Qingzhi cooked, they hadn’t taken it seriously, thinking it would just taste bad. But after eating, they either vomited had diarrhea, or felt weak all over. In short, everything felt awful.
“Little Medicine, are you okay eating so vigorously?” Sui Yunzhu asked.
Li Qingzhi glared at her. “What do you mean?!”
“You’re worrying unnecessarily. Usually, when Mo Sigui feeds him poison, he eats with the same resignation to fate,” An Jiu said, picking at her rice grains.
“Mei Shisi!” Li Qingzhi fumed, on the verge of exploding. “Little Medicine, tell them! Is it delicious or not?”
The medicine boy finished eating, put down his bowl, and wiped his mouth. “It’s quite good! Before Master left, he specifically instructed me to seize every opportunity to learn on my own while he was away. Don’t worry, I’ll concoct an antidote for Brother Li’s dish within three days!”
The medicine boy promised earnestly.
Li Qingzhi stood up abruptly and stormed out.
At the door, he turned back with a dark face to retrieve his unfinished bowl of rice.
“Hmm,” An Jiu said slowly. “It feels like we’re missing something…”
“Changyong and Dajiu!” Sui Yunzhu exclaimed. “Quick, let’s go find them!”
Everyone hurried out to search for the person and tiger they had forgotten for a day and a night.
In a small town on the Liao-Song border, thick black clouds seemed within reach. A bolt of lightning snaked through the cloud layers, pausing for a moment before a deafening thunderclap exploded.
The few pedestrians on the street began to run.
Raindrops fell on the stone slabs, blooming into small flowers.
“Quickly, take down the lanterns!” the innkeeper shouted at his waiter.
On the second floor, a window in one of the guest rooms was pushed open a crack. The sound of rain hitting the window frame was chaotic, yet it brought an inexplicable sense of peace.
Inside the room, smoke curled up from an ornate incense burner, and an amber light flickered in the wind.
On the bed, gauze curtains hung down, with a woman lying inside. Outside the curtains crouched a massive tiger.
A thin man leaned against the window, holding a pipe. The pipe bowl glowed faintly as he exhaled rings of smoke, obscuring his lustrous, peach-blossom eyes in a haze.
Half a month ago, he had arrived at the border and found Lou Mingyue barely clinging to life in a hidden cave.
At that moment, he had only one thought—even if Lou Mingyue’s name had been crossed off the book of life and death, he would write it back in, stroke by stroke!
Mo Sigui had never doubted his abilities, but he had been afraid then, and even now, his heart still trembled.
He turned back, looking through the thin gauze curtains, clearly sensing Lou Mingyue’s steady breathing. Only then did his heart find some peace.