At this moment, Xie Queshan suddenly spoke of a distant past event.

“When I was young, my mother and I fled Lanzhou and wandered as refugees. We encountered a band of mountain bandits. To hide from them, we concealed ourselves in an empty tiger’s den. One bandit discovered us, but he didn’t raise the alarm and let us go. I was originally very grateful to him… until later, I accidentally learned that he had simply made a bet with his companions, wagering whether when the tiger returned to its lair, it would eat the woman first, or eat the boy first.”

Nanyi looked into his eyes.

Ruthless yet sorrowful—how could such contradictory gazes exist in one person’s eyes?

She vaguely understood the implication of his words. Even if he didn’t kill people, in this world there were countless ways to make someone die.

Wolves, tigers, and leopards were everywhere, and now she had no bargaining chips for survival.

She asked tremblingly: “Are you going to treat me this way?”

“I wanted to kill you,” he murmured, “I once thought your being alive was my mercy, something I could take back at any time. But every time, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Nanyi’s mind buzzed, and in an instant she seemed to see silent lightning in the distance, countless fleeting lights passing before her eyes.

With his considerable martial skills, how could her clumsy technique have accurately pierced his chest? Unless he had deliberately shown weakness.

But why would he show weakness?

An answer seemed about to emerge.

“What is more than pity?” He seemed to be asking her, yet also asking himself.

At this moment she was both bewildered and clear-minded, as if touching the boundary of some forbidden zone. Beyond the boundary lay pitch darkness—she dared not cross over, nor dared to gaze beyond, only following his words to ask in a daze: “What is it?”

Their breaths intertwined, their gazes interwoven.

Xie Queshan raised his hand to cup Nanyi’s cheek. For the first time, his palm was cold.

Then his kiss descended.

With a thunderous crash, the belated sound of thunder arrived. All the veils of modesty were torn away, and those monster-like desires surged forth from that crack.

At first it was just a light touch, breathing in and out, merging into the same rhythm, until she came to her senses and struggled violently, hitting his chest wound. Blood flowed out again along the torn wound.

As if the pain had aroused some aggressive desire, his kiss suddenly became fierce, as if he wanted to devour her completely.

His tongue carried traces of blood, and all resistance became entanglement.

The wind pulled at the wooden door with thunderous sounds, black mountains and white waters in the distance, half-open skylight overhead.

She was forced to tilt her head back following his movements, like a marionette in his arms, invaded inch by inch with nowhere to escape. Driven to the limit, she could only rashly and frantically bite his lip.

He released her lips in pain, breathing heavily.

“Xie Queshan! You bastard!”

A brilliant flush rose on her cheeks, seeming like anger, yet also like guilty conscience trying to cover something up. How could she not have briefly indulged in that kiss?

Her heart was in chaos, and she could only bluff and curse.

He was completely unmoved, only looking into her eyes. She could also clearly see his eyes so close at hand. In a trance, she had an illusion—like the afterglow of sunset falling on ocean waves, golden light dancing, breathtakingly beautiful, but in the next instant, night rose, and that sea became an abyss once more.

Xie Queshan said in a low voice: “Nanyi, you must know that human hearts are very evil. A man’s love for a woman is also very cheap.”

He was also trying to convince himself.

The affection between men and women was nothing but selfish desire, coming fiercely and leaving quickly. This was the moon in water, flowers in a mirror—beautiful but useless, and in this chaotic world, it could only be additional burden.

He released his hands and stepped back.

His tone was compassionate, devoid of desire: “When you’re reborn in the next life, be those wild geese, not the tough grass.”

She finally understood. He displayed these secret emotions without reservation because this secret would be buried here forever with her death.

He wouldn’t kill her with his own hands—this stemmed from that tiny bit of his tender feelings—but he also wouldn’t let her live. This was his rationality.

“Xie Queshan, don’t treat me this way.”

She was truly panicked. When a man confessed his love yet still prepared to kill you, this was a decision of certain death.

She couldn’t help but plead weakly again. This was the kind of person she was—in any airtight death trap, as long as she could grasp even a tiny crack, she would desperately squeeze outward.

Even if this crack was only Xie Queshan’s mercy.

“I won’t run anymore, I swear… I’m clever, I can help you with many things. Forgive me one more time… The consequences aren’t very serious right now, are they? We can pretend nothing happened,” she spoke more and more urgently, even beginning to speak without choosing her words, “I can stay by your side, I can be your—”

Be his what? Mistress? Concubine?

But the following words were swallowed back, never to be spoken.

She finally discovered that some principles still had to transcend life and death, such as love, such as the body.

Those copybooks she had written countless times contained the propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame he had taught her, making her speechless at this moment.

He quietly looked at her for several seconds, a flash of anger in his eyes. He hoped she wouldn’t say it out loud—those past moments of genuine soul-touching brilliance would fall into the mire with her words, yet he also had a moment of perverse hope that she would say it.

She fell silent. Her last glimmer of possibility stuck in her throat, unable to form syllables no matter what.

Xie Queshan left without looking back.

The wooden door closed, and the cage finally became a cage.

Once he left, she was abandoned in this unnoticed little hut. While still alive, he had already pronounced her death sentence. She could only watch helplessly and powerlessly as her life force would slowly drain away in the cold winter days until she froze to death.

She tried to shake the bars on the window, but this hunting lodge was built to defend against wolf packs, and its sturdiness far exceeded her imagination.

In an instant, terror of death occupied all her thoughts. Nanyi hysterically shouted toward the window: “Xie Queshan! Don’t leave! Xie Queshan—why! What gives you the right!”

Her cries fell on deaf ears, not even stirring a ripple. The sound of horse hooves grew distant—the person had truly left.

“I hate you!”

Facing the empty hoofprints left on the ground, she shouted desperately, tears and snot streaming down her face.

But the cold wind swept past, and her tiny cries were instantly scattered. The mountains remained towering, heaven and earth still vast, yet there was no room for her, this speck of dust.

She could do nothing.

She had been drawn into these affairs because of him. He had bound her, kissed her, then abandoned her, making her the most ridiculous plaything in this world. She hated him so much—hated his selfishness and tyranny, hated his ruthless cruelty, and even more hated that he had once given her tenderness and hope, only to withdraw it all now.

Beyond redemption?

She finally believed it. He was indeed a monster.

——

On this day, Xu Kouyue again endured Wanyan Jun’s thunderous fury. Things outside weren’t going well, and he brought his anger with him. With the slightest carelessness, she would trigger his wrath.

Wanyan Jun burned the books she had brought right in front of her, saying they were Han books, and her treasuring them like precious things showed she still had divided loyalties.

But these books were clearly ones he had mercifully allowed her to bring before departure. He had been in a good mood then, found her pleasing to look at, spent some effort coaxing her, even saying “The journey will be boring. Don’t you like reading? Then bring a few more boxes to relieve the tedium.”

Xu Kouyue’s heart ached terribly. She would rather he beat her—physical suffering was better than spiritual torment. But he never left obvious wounds on her body. He wanted her body to be pure and flawless, so he was very skilled at tormenting her in other ways. This man had deep thoughts and was adept at finding people’s weak spots to squeeze.

When he wanted to burn books, she dared not stop him. If she showed too much excitement, he would burn them with even more enthusiasm, and then the few books hidden in her room couldn’t be saved either.

She could only watch helplessly. After he left, she hurried to gather those ashes together. She couldn’t just discard them in a corner or let the wind scatter them, so she dug a hole in the back courtyard and buried them.

The back courtyard had a small door that few people used. At this moment, urgent knocking suddenly came from outside. Xu Kouyue suspiciously went to open the door.

Seeing the visitor, Xu Kouyue was startled. It was Xie Queshan, who had been missing for several days and was covered in blood and grime.

He was exhausted, supporting himself against the door frame to barely stand steady: “Tell Wanyan Jun… Yucheng Army’s camp is located at the abandoned Taoist temple in Tiger Kneel Mountain.”

After saying this, he collapsed. Xu Kouyue gasped in alarm and hurried forward to support him, his whole body pressing against her shoulder.

Xu Kouyue was stunned for several seconds. She didn’t know how long this person had been walking in the mountains, but his whole body was cold as a brick. Her hands seemed to have touched something sticky. Looking down, she saw her hands were covered in blood.

Her voice trembling involuntarily, she called out: “Someone come quickly!”

The usually quiet mansion today had female servants and attendants rushing in and out in panic.

Xie Queshan’s wounds had damaged his internal organs. He had lost too much blood and walked in the cold mountains for a long time, suffering from hypothermia and exhaustion. The best doctors in the city were all brought in, divine physicians taking turns, finally managing to snatch him back from the King of Hell—it could be considered a miracle.

In the evening, Xie Queshan woke briefly and spoke a few words with Wanyan Jun in the room. Wanyan Jun emerged from the room with a furrowed brow.

He happened to run into Gusha, who had come visiting in great haste—Gusha had finally remembered that the sword tassel in the dead dancer’s hand belonged to Xie Queshan!