The water in the bathtub had grown lukewarm. When Fan Changyu’s warm, delicate fingertips traced along his back, Xie Zheng’s shoulder muscles involuntarily tensed, the bluish veins prominent on his hand that rested on the tub’s edge.
His head still throbbed from the alcohol, but hearing the hoarseness in her voice, he managed to maintain his clarity as he answered, “It doesn’t hurt.”
Fan Changyu’s fingertips traced down the sword scar on his back. Looking at the nearly half-inch wide scar, she said, “It may not hurt now, but what about before it healed?”
Xie Zheng’s phoenix eyes lowered slightly. The candlelight cast a warm glow on his thick black lashes, momentarily softening his features.
Lost in thought, his long lashes cast shadows on his eyelids as he replied, “It didn’t hurt then either.”
Fan Changyu felt as if her chest was stuffed with damp cotton. She tilted her head back, blinking to force back the tears welling in her eyes. Unable to bear the sight of his whip-scarred back any longer, she turned away and whispered hoarsely, “Liar.”
She spoke bitterly, “How could you torture yourself like this? Weren’t you afraid of dying on the battlefield? Didn’t you want revenge against Wei Yan? Is this how you planned to achieve it?”
After a moment of silence, Xie Zheng finally spoke softly, “The pain from these wounds reminds me I’m still alive.”
Fan Changyu froze.
His voice was low and hoarse as he gave a slight laugh. “When you pursued me to Chong Prefecture despite your injuries, when I saw you crying on horseback, I thought: to hell with revenge, I don’t care anymore—just please stop crying. But I’m an Xie. My father was Xie Linshan. Though his face has grown dim in my memory, I still remember his chest and abdomen roughly sewn together after being cut open, the shape of those sixty-seven arrow wounds on his body…”
“If I were dead, perhaps I could be with you without guilt. But as long as I live, I cannot have even the slightest connection with you.”
At the mention of General Xie’s death, Fan Changyu’s heart ached with sorrow as well.
“I never blamed you,” she choked out. “Back then, I never blamed you…”
General Xie’s brutal death grieved even her, an outsider—how much more must it pain his son?
Even Zhu Youchang had once believed her father was a traitor. How much more Xie Zheng, who had never known her father? Without evidence, she had no way to prove her father’s innocence to him.
Even now, remembering those times still filled Fan Changyu with suffocating pain and helplessness.
Xie Zheng reached up to wipe away the crystal tears rolling down her cheeks. Whether drunk or sober, he murmured, “Why are you crying again?”
His thumb caressed her cheek, his dark intoxicated eyes reflecting her face and the flickering candlelight. “You were always crying in my dreams during those days. At first, I thought if I never saw you again in this life, I could eventually let go.”
“But even though I forced myself not to seek any news of you, you still haunted my dreams, giving me no peace.”
“Sometimes one moment I’d be in Lin’an Town, hearing you call my name with a smile, and the next you’d be in wedding attire, marrying another man. He was refined and scholarly-looking. The wedding hall echoed with blessings that pierced my ears. You bowed to heaven and earth with him, your veiled lips curved in joy…”
He couldn’t continue. His alcohol-hazed eyes suddenly turned frighteningly cold. His fingers tightened on her face, his tone fierce yet tinged with hurt: “You always knew how to torment me. What were those wounds compared to the heart-wrenching pain of seeing you marry another in my dreams? I wanted to hack that man to pieces. When I woke to see my bed curtains, the rage was still there, but I was relieved.”
“I realized then that I couldn’t bear to see you marry another. Thankfully, it’s not too late.”
Even through his alcohol-addled state, he stopped himself from completing his last thought.
If she married another, he would destroy their entire clan to take her back! He would chop anyone who dared marry her into pieces and feed them to dogs!
She was his! Only his!
Anyone who dared to desire her deserved death!
That deep-seated darkness and twisted possessiveness were like a final valve in his heart that he constantly guarded against. He despised it himself and couldn’t let her know of it.
If she knew, she would surely avoid him like a plague…
Fan Changyu’s cheeks stung from Xie Zheng’s rough caress, but she didn’t pull away. Hearing about his time in Kang City after their separation filled her heart with pain.
The more she understood this man, the more she realized how difficult that choice had been for him.
She grabbed his hand that was wiping her tears and pressed it firmly against her cheek. Her tear-filled eyes met his steadily in the candlelight as she said hoarsely, “Xie Zheng, let’s stay together from now on, and you must stop hurting yourself.”
When she gazed at him with those bright eyes, the world seemed to lose all other colors, leaving only the warm, gentle light in her eyes, like winter afternoon sunlight melting icicles from the eaves.
Xie Zheng stared back at those eyes in a daze before gently stroking her face. “I wasn’t hurting myself.”
Remembering the crisscrossing scars on his back, Fan Changyu still felt distressed. “Your back is in such a state, how is that not self-harm?”
“The Xie clan rules state that for grave offenses, one hundred and eight lashes will absolve the sin. After taking those lashes, I could rightfully come find you, and properly marry you into the Xie family with all traditional rites.”
Fan Changyu’s eyes trembled. Despite her efforts to control herself, a tear rolled down her cheek and fell into the bath, creating ripples.
No wonder he had told her after the victory feast in Lu City that he no longer cared whether she was a Fan or a Meng—he had already redeemed himself in this way.
She covered her eyes with her hand and tilted her head back, unable to hide the choke in her voice: “What am I to do with you?”
Whether from drunkenness or emotion, Xie Zheng’s eyes held a hint of redness as he asked hoarsely, “I wish to take Lady Meng Changyu as my wife. Will you accept?”
The ache in her chest grew stronger, with no outlet for release.
Fan Changyu felt the bitterness rise to her nose as she stared at the devilishly handsome man before her, his black hair completely wet, and said seriously, “If you marry me, I will wed you.”
Xie Zheng’s dark eyes locked onto hers: “No regrets?”
Fan Changyu met his gaze and challenged, “Are you already taking back what you just said?”
She glared at him, her tone defiant.
Xie Zheng remained silent.
A large hand cupped the back of her head, forcing her to lean down, and then he claimed her breath.
Xie Zheng had drunk heavily. As he parted her lips, the rich taste of alcohol spread between them, and Fan Changyu found it different from when she drank herself.
His kiss was fierce, not releasing her until her lips and tongue were nearly numb with pain.
Fan Changyu half-supported herself on the edge of the tub, left only with the ability to breathe.
Her face was flushed from the restricted breathing, her almond-shaped eyes glistening with moisture.
The front of her clothes had become thoroughly wet, revealing the outline of her bindings.
Xie Zheng’s breath caught, his eyes darkening further.
In the cold air, it was as if a fire had been lit, making his blood surge through his body with a sizzling heat.
He suddenly stood, his long legs stepping out of the tub. He lifted her onto a nearby table, glanced down at her slightly swollen lips from his kisses, then claimed them again, the darkness in his eyes threatening to consume her entirely.
Fan Changyu’s back hit the screen behind the table, barely letting out a muffled sound before her breath was stolen again.
Her eyes showed defiance as she tried to gain the upper hand, but she was firmly restrained. As she grew dizzy, she felt a coolness against her chest as her bindings loosened, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around Xie Zheng’s head.
His wet hair clung to her warm skin, the cold sensation sending shivers through her, making her shoulders unconsciously contract.
He was like a starved wolf on the winter wasteland suddenly given meat, not knowing where to begin his feast.
His movements were far from gentle, almost uncontrollably rough.
Fan Changyu slightly furrowed her brow, drawing in a sharp breath. She lightly patted his firm shoulder, her voice breathless and soft: “Be… gentler.”
The last time he left Ji Prefecture that night, he had left marks, and she hadn’t dared to wear her bindings for several days.
Xie Zheng placed a gentle kiss, finally releasing her. When he raised his head, his eyes were blood-red, a vein standing out on his neck, looking somewhat frightening.
His breath was scorching hot, but his voice remained steady, though extremely hoarse: “Aren’t you afraid?”
Fan Changyu’s eyes reflected the candlelight, soft and warm, with a mistiness like a morning fog in the forest, as if holding the day’s first dawn light, both warm and bright. She asked in return: “What is there to fear?”
Xie Zheng couldn’t help but grip her chin and kiss her again. After a long while, he pressed his forehead against hers, his blood-red eyes showing near self-abandonment as he said, “The man you’ve decided to marry isn’t a good person.”
Fan Changyu reached out to touch his face and said, “I have eyes. I can see clearly what kind of person you are.”
Xie Zheng said harshly, “What if I’m deliberately pretending in front of you?”
Hearing these strange words, Fan Changyu raised her bright eyes and deliberately said, “Then… perhaps I should reconsider?”
The hands on her shoulders suddenly tightened, the force nearly enough to crush her shoulder blades. Xie Zheng spoke with a hint of malice: “It’s too late.”
His eyes carried resolution and a trace of ruthlessness, while beneath his calm expression lay fragments of self-mockery that even he didn’t recognize: “Fan Changyu, you’re bound to this wretch for life now.”
Fan Changyu had only meant to tease him, but hearing him speak of himself this way caused her heart to ache once more.
How could she not know what kind of man he was?
She leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek and said, “Then let’s be bound together. They say good people don’t live long—if you’re a bad person, perhaps that will make me happier.”