The sky seemed drenched in thick ink, and all was silent. The embracing pair were so close they could only hear each other’s heartbeats.
Fan Changyu pressed her lips tightly together, suddenly pushing Xie Zheng away forcefully.
After confirming he was unharmed, her worry along the way transformed into lingering fear, along with a sudden surge of anger and a sense of grievance she didn’t quite understand herself.
She questioned him: “I shouldn’t have come. But you came alone. If you had fallen into Wei Yan’s ambush, what about the Xie family? What about the officers under your command?”
Xie Zhong had told her that he had knelt before the Xie clan ancestors’ memorial tablets and received 108 lashes. After the punishment, his entire back was raw flesh, unable to even stand from the pool of blood. The scene seemed vivid before her eyes.
Fan Changyu didn’t know if it was the mountain wind blurring her vision, but a hint of redness was visible in her eyes.
She stared at the man before her, her hands clenched into fists within her sleeves, trembling uncontrollably. Forcing a hard expression on her face, she asked the final question: “What about me?”
These words made Xie Zheng suddenly look up, his pupils quivering imperceptibly as if he couldn’t believe she would say such a thing.
Fan Changyu’s eyes were red-rimmed as she glared at him fiercely, biting her teeth, like a cornered and wounded leopard: “From the day I learned of your identity, I never thought we’d have any more interaction. It was you who kept provoking me!”
“Later, it was you who said we should part ways. I don’t blame you, given the great enmity with General Xie. But after the victory banquet in Lu City, it was also you who said that regardless of whether my surname was Fan or Meng, you just wanted to be with me! Are you trying to deny it now?”
Those emotions that had been compressed in her chest surged up like a tidal wave, nearly overwhelming her reason.
Since she was old enough to understand, Fan Changyu had rarely shown her grievances in front of others. This was the only time she couldn’t control her emotions, shouting hatefully at the man before her: “Xie Zheng, you bastard!”
Why didn’t he bring any guards?
He could have not told her that today was his mother’s death anniversary. After all, there was no concrete evidence that her father was innocent. Bringing the possible daughter of an enemy to pay respects might have made him feel guilty towards his parents.
She didn’t blame him for that.
But why did he put himself in danger?
Ever since learning that he had accepted punishment before coming to find her in Lu City, Fan Changyu understood that Xie Linshan’s death was ultimately a mountain weighing on his heart.
In front of her, he showed no signs, but behind her back, he was using his methods to atone for his parents.
Coming alone tonight, was it also for “atonement”?
Fan Changyu had always been slow in matters of emotions. When she heard from Xie Zhong that today was his mother’s death anniversary, she had only briefly lost focus. It wasn’t until this moment that those feelings of sadness and grievance she had deliberately downplayed broke through their cocoon, rushing to her heart all at once, choking her throat.
Her eyes stung fiercely, but Fan Changyu didn’t want to cry. She stubbornly refused to blink, not letting the tears pool in her eyes. Xie Zheng’s figure a few steps away became blurred in the light of her restrained tears.
Even though she could no longer see clearly, Fan Changyu still stared at him intently, her voice hoarse yet determined: “Without concrete evidence, I can’t prove to you that my father was innocent. Perhaps we’ll never find evidence to uncover the truth, so my father will always potentially be the culprit who helped Wei Yan kill General Xie.”
“Being with me, you’ll always feel guilty, spending the rest of your life in pain and struggle.”
It felt as if her chest had been cut open by the cold wind, painfully icy.
Fan Changyu’s throat was sore and hoarse. The tear she had been holding back in her eye spilled over her eyelid, rolling down like a broken pearl, not even lingering on her face.
She took a deep breath and said: “Rather than this, we should just separate. I don’t want this. Seeing you suffer alone, I don’t feel good at all. Perhaps you shouldn’t have come back to find me in the first place. Sometimes, short pain is better than long pain… Mmph…”
Before she could finish her sentence, someone suddenly gripped her neck, pinning her heavily against the trunk of a bowl-thick cypress tree in front of the tomb.
Her back ached, but Fan Changyu had no time to care about that.
Xie Zheng’s hot breath was right in front of her. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw muscles tight, fierce, and violent, like a beast on the verge of madness.
The hand on her throat, with veins bulging, exerted a force so great it was alarming.
He lowered his head to look at her, seeming to be struggling to control his emotions, not wanting to do anything to hurt her. The remaining rationality was pulling against the roaring black anger in his chest as he spoke with difficulty and determination: “Don’t say such things again…”
For a moment, there was indeed hatred in his eyes.
“You’re right to curse me. I am a bastard. Even if I die, I’ll only drag you into my coffin with me. You’re telling me to separate?”
He laughed softly, his blood-spattered face beautiful yet pale in the moonlight. Suddenly, he lowered his head and bit her shoulder fiercely, his eyes showing a nearly insane love and a desperate determination.
Fan Changyu groaned in pain, wanting to struggle, but was pinned against the tree by him, restrained firmly with all his strength.
When Xie Zheng raised his head again, the wind had messed up his bangs, blood stained his lips, and his face appeared even more alluring, like those demons described in novels that come out at night to feed on human essence.
He murmured in a low voice: “Separate? Fan Changyu, why didn’t I just chew you up and swallow you bit by bit?”
Fan Changyu looked up, staring at him expressionlessly. When he raised a hand to touch her face, she suddenly attacked, her whole body surging up, grabbing his hand and flipping him over forcefully.
Caught off guard, Xie Zheng was thrown to the ground by her brute force, his back hitting the bluestone pavement in front of the tomb with a dull thud.
Before he could get up, Fan Changyu pounced on him like a leopard, one hand locking his throat, her legs pressing down on both sides of his waist to restrain his movement, pinning him down tightly just as he had done to her earlier.
She said hatefully: “Then who was it that came to this cemetery alone, knowing Wei Yan was watching, walking right into the trap?”
“If you’re concerned about my identity and didn’t want to tell me, couldn’t you at least have brought a few guards?”
Towards the end, Fan Changyu’s voice became choked with emotion: “You feel guilty and remorseful towards General Xie and Madam Xie when you’re with me. Do you think I feel any better about that?”
Xie Zheng looked at the fierce and disheveled young woman pinning him down and locking his throat, his expression slightly stunned. He finally understood the reason behind her words. He raised a hand to press on her back, pulling her forcefully towards himself, and said: “It’s not what you think…”
Fan Changyu broke free from his embrace, sat up, and glared at him hatefully: “Then tell me, what is it?”
Xie Zheng’s hand was shaken off by Fan Changyu, but he didn’t get up. He just lay on his back on the bluestone ground in front of the tomb, looking at the pitch-black night sky with dimmed eyes: “I never told you about my mother, did I?”
“She hanged herself not long after my father’s coffin returned to the capital. I was four years old that year. On the day she died, she made osmanthus cakes for me, wore her favorite clothes, and applied her makeup in front of the mirror. In the short time it took me to go out and eat a cake at her urging, I returned to find her body hanging from the beam.”
Fan Changyu was stunned.
“She entrusted me to Wei Yan, and I spent sixteen years living under his roof. When I was young, Wei Yan’s beloved son would put snakes in my bedding in the height of summer, pour cold well water on my bed in the depths of winter, and tear up the homework assigned by the teacher…”
“At those times, I would always think of her and also hate her. I hated her for being weak as the matriarch of a great family, unable to bear the responsibilities of her position. I hated her as a mother for failing in her maternal duties and heartlessly abandoning me. On more nights than I can count, I would see in my nightmares that vivid strip of her beautiful skirt hanging beneath the beam.”
Xie Zheng smiled: “I thought Wei Yan hated me because I was greedy for that plate of osmanthus cakes, leaving my mother alone, allowing her to hang herself. I hated myself too…”
Fan Changyu listened to him speak of his childhood experiences in such a calm tone as if he were talking about someone else’s story. Her hands, resting on her knees, unconsciously clenched.
She had only heard from Zhu Youchang that Madam Xie had died to protect Xie Zheng and the old Xie family members involved in exposing Wei Yan. She didn’t know there were so many misunderstandings between Xie Zheng and his mother.
When her parents died accidentally, if it weren’t for Long Ning, she wouldn’t have been able to pull herself together so quickly.
He had lost both parents at such a young age, it must have felt like the sky was falling. He blamed himself for his mother’s death in his heart and was also bullied in the Wei household.
Fan Changyu remembered how he had wanted to give her a pair of clay figurines when he learned that she had given Song Yan a pair when she was young.
At that time, she had thought him childish in her heart, but now she vaguely understood.
It was precisely because he had never received any warmth or comfort since childhood that he wanted even the pair of clay figurines she had given Song Yan.
The pain in her chest was intense.
Fan Changyu looked at the person lying beside her and reached out to gently stroke his head, saying, “Madam Xie’s death was not your fault.”
Xie Zheng said self-mockingly: “I hated her for a full seventeen years before I learned she died for me.”
“Not telling you today was her death anniversary wasn’t because I minded your identity, but because I hadn’t figured out how to face her myself…”
Fan Changyu felt a mix of emotions and said softly, “I’m sorry.”
She had misunderstood him.
Xie Zheng turned his head to look at her and asked with a smile, “What are you apologizing for? I never told you these things, so, understandably, you misunderstood.”
He sat up, bending his knees, the shape of his shoulder and back muscles visible under his robe: “Was it Xie Zhong who told you I was here?”
Fan Changyu, fearing he would blame the old man with the limp, quickly said, “I didn’t see you after I finished with Uncle Zhu, so I asked him on my initiative.”
Xie Zheng said, “His mouth is getting looser and looser.”
Fan Changyu pressed her lips together and said, “He was just worried about you. In any case, coming alone to pay respects to Madam Xie was too dangerous.”
Xie Zheng lowered his eyes without speaking. The moonlight cut out the profile of his face, revealing a hint of hardness and stubbornness.
Fan Changyu thought he was still upset about Madam Xie’s matter and didn’t say more, only saying, “It’s good that nothing happened.”
Xie Zheng suddenly spoke: “In the past, when coming to pay respects to my mother, he taught me not to bring others.”
Fan Changyu asked in confusion, “Who?”
But Xie Zheng didn’t speak anymore. He stood up, looked at his parents’ tombstone behind him, and knelt to kowtow three times.
Fan Changyu guessed who he meant by the person who taught him, and after much thought, the only possibility seemed to be Wei Yan.
She was secretly shocked, wondering why he still remembered what Wei Yan had said in the past, given that he now knew Wei Yan was the enemy who had killed his parents.
But thinking about how Wei Yan was, after all, his uncle, and for those dozen or so years, Xie Zheng had treated him as his only relative in this world, even becoming Wei Yan’s most handy tool.
No matter how harshly Wei Yan treated Xie Zheng, he never shortchanged him in martial arts or studies.
Even though they were now at odds, Xie Zheng probably still had extraordinary feelings for Wei Yan, right?
Fan Changyu looked at his tall, slender figure from behind, her emotions extremely complex.
After kowtowing, Xie Zheng stood up and suddenly turned to Fan Changyu: “Come and kowtow to my parents.”