Chapter 1: Recognition

She was falling.

Scorching waves surrounded her, and her long hair turned to ash almost instantly. She knew that in the next moment, she too would turn to ash and bone, disappearing without a trace from this world.

She had never wanted to die so pathetically. Just dancing one dance—how had it led to this outcome? She couldn’t understand it herself.

In that instant, what surged through her heart was not regret or remorse, but all the encounters from her previous life to this world. Strangely, most of those painful memories had vanished, as if burned away by this fire, as if danced away by this dance. At this moment, the scenes flashing rapidly before her eyes in the sea of flames were all those warm, tender, loving, supportive moments—the gentle frowns and light smiles of those beautiful people in her memory…

“Bang.” A cracking sound, thunderous to her ears.

Then came two more bangs. In the next moment, her body stopped, tightly embraced by another body.

The familiar cool, icy snow scent made her body instantly stiffen.

Could it be…

Tears suddenly welled up in her eyes, without reason.

Three days and nights of waiting, the madness of the final dance, the despair of the final glance—at the moment of falling, she had already bid farewell to the past, only to find herself in his embrace.

But… it was still too late, wasn’t it…

She remembered the raging sea of fire below, where there was no longer any place to stand.

His body was so cool. After all this time, he had finally recovered the temperature she was familiar with—no, countless times cooler than in her memory.

Under such extreme cold, the high temperature on her skin was rapidly lowered. Countless fine crackling sounds arose around them, as if something was rapidly condensing and then rapidly melting, over and over. She felt the temperature around them clearly dropping.

The ten thousand troops before the fire scene stood frozen.

Everyone looked up, staring in stunned amazement at the strange sight in the fire scene.

In the fierce flames, that person plunged into the sea of fire. At first, the flames surged wildly upward, but instantly, the flames paused. Then snow-colored frost continuously condensed on that person’s body—just formed and then melted, just melted and then formed. In this continuous cycle, the flames gradually weakened. Around the two embracing figures, an area of blackened char appeared where the fire had died out, then frost formed. That icy snow color expanded into a circle, with the two as the center, continuously extending downward in the fire scene, downward, until it stretched into a transparent, rotating passage…

“Bang.” With a sound, the two fell into the bottom of the burned hall, disappearing from everyone’s view.

…

“Bang.” Jing Hengbo and Gong Yin embraced as they crashed straight down, following the passage left by the burned pillars, finally landing heavily on the scalding ground.

But they couldn’t stop there. With another bang, something beneath them collapsed, and they continued falling, dropping another level.

In the spinning confusion, he no longer used his true power to resist, only tightly holding her in his arms with both arms, always protecting her in his embrace.

Jing Hengbo was already half-drunk and couldn’t withstand such tumbling and tossing. She opened her mouth and began vomiting. Having eaten nothing for three days, there was no food to vomit up—just stomach acid and bile. She tried to turn away, not wanting to vomit on someone else, but he pressed her head firmly against him, letting her spew the filthy matter onto his clothes mouthful by mouthful.

A scene flashed through her mind—also drunk, she had once splashed vomit all over him. At that time, as now, he hadn’t avoided it at all, holding her in his arms.

Tears suddenly filled her eyes.

From beginning to end, who had really changed? What could be trusted? What should be questioned?

If it was love, why had that poison been sent to the snowy depths of the palace?

If it wasn’t love, why had he traveled all the way in disguise, always supporting her?

If it was love, why did she have to use this method to force herself into a dead end before he would appear?

If it wasn’t love, why had he come all this way covered in wind and frost?

If it was love, why had he let her wait until despair consumed her heart?

If it wasn’t love, why was he willing to accompany her into the fire?

…

Countless words of love or not-love floated and sank through her heart. Her tears were instantly dried by the hot air, and she suddenly felt the cool air around him gradually fading. Then she felt his arms holding her gradually loosening.

Her heart jumped in alarm. Thinking that they had now escaped danger, was this guy planning to run away again? Then all her painstaking efforts would have been wasted.

Just then, there was a slope behind them. She was about to roll down, and his arms loosened, as if he intended to stay on the upper level. She quickly reached out and grabbed him, and both of them rolled down together tumbling.

Another bout of spinning confusion, their bodies bruised and aching from being knocked against the earthen steps. After quite a while, she finally stopped, crashing against an earthen layer. Then he crashed into her from above, pressing down so hard that she cried out “Aiya,” nearly squeezing out another round of stomach acid.

She grunted, grabbed him without a word, and immediately flipped over to straddle him, her legs tightly wrapped around his waist. Never mind propriety, etiquette, or the defense between men and women—she had finally caught him, how could she let him escape again?

Very efficiently, she pulled out a rope from her waist. She had prepared this rope three days ago. In a few moves, she tied it around his waist, with the rope end attached to a hook that she hooked to the rope end on her own wrist.

Learning from last time’s lesson, she didn’t dare use chains again, afraid of problems from freezing, nor did she dare tie it to pillars or other objects, afraid he would pull away even the pillars without regard for consequences. She simply tied it to herself—go ahead and leave if you can, drag me along with you.

Still not reassured, she pointed her finger and tapped his lower abdomen with her knuckle, locking his dantian’s true qi. This was a technique from the Mingyue Heart method that she had practiced for a long time, only learning it half-competently.

He remained motionless, letting her do as she pleased, as if he had fainted. Jing Hengbo felt his body go limp, covered in a layer of sweat, as if exhausted.

Jing Hengbo didn’t believe him at all. He had pretended to be weak many times before, but once he got serious, he could be quite fierce, couldn’t he?

Only after finishing these tasks did she let out a long breath and look up. She could vaguely see firelight above and could tell this was an underground chamber. The entrance was somewhere on the ground above, with stairs leading downward. Because it was quite deep and still had ventilation, it wasn’t hot down here.

There was a collapsed area above where some light could be seen. The chamber had dim lighting. She wasn’t surprised at all that there was an underground chamber here, because almost all the wealthy households and palaces in Dahuang had tunnels and underground chambers. Even when she built the Shangyuan Palace, at her subordinates’ urging, she had left hidden layers and tunnels in several halls.

The fire had started from below first, probably softening the original doorway, then when they crashed down from above with such force, it collapsed directly.

The fire continued burning. Going out now would be dangerous, and others couldn’t get in either, so they’d stay down here for now.

She turned back and looked down at his clothes, immediately feeling furious.

It was these damn clothes that had nearly cost her her life! Why had he dressed up as Yelu Qi for no reason?

The clothes were also stained with a lot of filth and smelled bad. She decided to just strip them off.

Strip him naked—let’s see if this face-conscious person had the guts to run around naked!

Thinking of this, she deeply regretted it. She felt that when she had caught him in the thatched hut at Xianqiao Valley last time, her approach had been wrong from the start. Chains and pressure point blocking were completely unnecessary. If she had stripped him naked when she first caught him, she wouldn’t have had to work so hard to force this confrontation, nearly losing her life.

She raised her hand, and with a ripping sound, threw off his outer robe.

He seemed to raise his hand to block, saying something low and indistinct. She leaned close to listen, vaguely hearing him say “can’t.” Can’t what? Don’t act like I’m trying to rape you!

I think I can, so I can!

She viciously brushed aside his blocking arm. His resistance was utterly powerless anyway, falling limply to one side with a single brush.

Jing Hengbo curled her lip disdainfully—keep pretending, you probably want to be stripped in your heart!

Raising her hand again, the deep robe also flew off.

Only undergarments remained, a long shirt and long pants. She considered—would he appear before crowds in this outfit?

Thinking about it, she still didn’t feel reassured. He had made her too paranoid.

Her fingers grabbed the collar of the undergarment, and with another ripping sound, the clothing tore.

But she couldn’t tear it off completely, because she saw his chest.

She saw that faint red mark on his chest—long like a finger, slightly raised. Against the jade-like background, it was vivid.

She froze, staring at that mark, finding it glaring.

Since she had started having doubts, how many times had she tried to find this mark? Who knew he had actually worn a mask all the way to his chest.

She remembered he could use Prajna Snow Plain to repair skin, leaving no traces on the body, but this wound, for unknown reasons, was inscribed on his skin.

She stared blankly at that mark, thinking of the snow that night and the fire tonight. Through all these ups and downs, so many words had become empty in silence. Must they rely on scars to get answers today?

She couldn’t help but gently touch it with her finger. When her fingertip touched his chest, she couldn’t help but exclaim—it wasn’t cool anymore, it was even a bit hot.

She remembered that since he began disguising himself, he had been alternately hot and cold. This very thing had deceived her for a long time. She had always thought he was deliberately controlling it, but now it seemed that wasn’t the case?

Her finger couldn’t help but explore his chest. Indeed, his body was beginning to run hot, but near his heart, there was a spot that was ice cold, extremely cold. She could feel that coldness seemed to be deeply buried within his body, never melting.

She couldn’t be certain what this situation really was. Judging by martial arts common sense, that might be where he stored his ice and snow true qi, just like her dantian where she stored true qi.

Not all martial arts practitioners had their true qi circulation centered in the dantian.

She remembered that last time she had poked there, nearly causing a fatality. Thinking it must be his vital point, she quickly removed her hand.

While she was busy on his chest like this, she had overlooked the stimulating effect of her restless soft fingers on a male. She vaguely heard a faint sound from his throat, like a murmur or a moan. Then her finger touched something hard.

She was stunned, wondering why she hadn’t noticed before. What was wrong with him now? Lowering her head to look in the dim light, she saw beneath her gaze a half-expanse of snow-like skin, a collarbone like jade. On that snow-jade skin, fine sweat was seeping, glowing with an even more alluring light in the darkness, tinged with cherry blossom red, shimmering seductively.

She was amazed, her gaze instinctively moving downward to avoid it, only to discover his waist curved smoothly and tightly. The disheveled undergarment had been pushed down to his waist, creating a pose that seemed to await ravaging, nearly making her nose bleed.

Afraid she might actually spray noseblood on his chest, which would be truly embarrassing, she quickly covered her nose with one hand and grabbed his torn undergarment with the other to cover him.

In the dimness, he suddenly made a sound—a long sigh. Then he reached out, brushed away her fumbling hand, pressed one hand against the back of her head, and pushed her toward his chest.

With a thud, her nose hit his chest, nearly knocking the nosebleed out of her.

But she couldn’t be bothered wiping her nose, saying joyfully, “You’re finally responding! Quickly answer me… mmph!”

Her lips were blocked by another pair of lips.

He pressed the back of her head, pressing her tightly against himself. His lips automatically found hers—no need for doubt, no need for hesitation. He had rushed from a thousand miles away, all for this moment of plunging into her ocean.

Her fragrant ocean was indeed the sweetest, warmest place in the world, the irreplaceable scent in his memory forever. In all those days of walking through changes, in those cold nights of long winds, solitary lamps, and cold windows, through the endless length of time, it was these beautiful memories that helped him endure the unbearable loneliness. In the end, life’s bitterness wasn’t bitterness, and sweetness wasn’t sweetness either—only a peony in his heart, swaying at the end of Penglai, telling him to strive to live for her sake.

This peony, nourished by his heart’s blood, had grown by today. She had shown her thorns flashing with the cold light of weapons and armor. At the end of blood and fire, she emanated a fierce fragrance, drawing him to plunge into the flames.

In the fire, her lips and teeth were also a blaze of scorching fire that could ignite him instantly. He didn’t know if he was trembling or she was shivering, or perhaps both were uncontrollably excited and shaking—separated too long, hated too long, loved too long, waited too long. It seemed they had already spent a lifetime in endless searching.

Meeting seemed both simple and too difficult, so much so that in this instant, both set aside all entanglements and indulged themselves in savoring the long-missed other. Because they were too excited, their teeth lightly collided, making a series of fine clicking sounds. Finally, he found the right position, pried open her teeth, and surged into her world. A low murmuring sound came from her throat, seemingly still resentful. Her mouth opened slightly, as if wanting to bite down hard, to bite through this reserved yet domineering man’s arrogance. However, the consequence of opening her lips was that he squeezed in even more fiercely to taste her. She was struck until her tongue went numb and could only let him conquer territory. Unwilling in her heart, her hands wandered over his body, suddenly touching his lower abdomen—soft, supple, smooth like brocade, sleek and delicate yet with slight elasticity, perfectly fitting the width of her palm. When her palm covered it, she suddenly didn’t want to leave. Suddenly she understood that even though she had met countless heroic talents along this journey, like flowers competing in beauty, she would always feel his temperature was most suitable, his form most fitting, his scent most pleasant, his everything most worthy of her obsession.

What she loved had always been him, always been the genuine, true him. Her subconscious was so persistent that even when hating, she was unwilling to change or substitute.

Even though she had met countless versions of him along this journey, each bearing his shadow, because they weren’t the complete, genuine him, even when she had doubts and moments of attraction, she had never fallen melodramatically in love with “someone else.”

She, Jing Hengbo, would forever be that soul who had traveled from modern times to another world. The person she chose would forever be the one who sat up coolly and coldly on her bed, saying to her, “Your Majesty, you may escape three times”—that Gong Yin.

She could escape across mountains and seas, escape human torment, but she couldn’t escape the barriers of her own heart.

Her emotions surged chaotically. Her hand mischievously kneaded and rubbed his abdomen, like her heart being kneaded and rubbed at this moment. But she forgot that this position was also very close to certain vital areas. She vaguely heard him grunt, and then that nearly fierce kiss suddenly turned gentle and delicate, rolling and sucking, advancing and retreating repeatedly. His tongue tip continuously swept lightly across her lips and teeth in waves like the sweetest tide. She had used all her strength to ravage him in such fierceness, but in such tenderness, her whole body went soft. She vaguely heard the voice from his throat, also fragmented and gentle, nearly soul-stirring. Just listening to it made her feel it was so pleasant that her whole body went soft, hot, wet…

She suddenly began panting too, her arms involuntarily tightening around him. He felt her arms were like the softest silk vines in the world—he was willing to be bound like this for life, yet he wanted even more to bind her in his arms. Just as he wanted to see her soar high in the sky, yet couldn’t bear to let her fly out of his sight. These complex, contradictory feelings stirred rare restlessness in his heart. He felt that having her pressed against him kissing was good, but not enough. Suddenly he turned over, pressing her beneath him.

His waist was tied to hers with rope. This turn made the rope shorter, and both felt the tight binding. But what followed immediately was boiling blood, cheering cells, the restlessness of youthful bodies… Jing Hengbo felt the clear yet rich masculine scent of the body above her, felt his desire overlapping with her own desire. In this moment, neither wanted to speak. No need for explanations or answers—they only wanted to release the emotions accumulated too long on each other’s bodies.

In this instant, she hazily recalled some island nation films from her modern world that seemed to have methods of using bondage for enhancement… Heaven forgive her, it wasn’t intentional.

He was panting, his breath spraying hotly on her neck. She could feel that panting was too rapid. For some reason, unease welled up in her heart. Thinking of his rushing journey, exhausted and spent, would it really be appropriate to have a session now…

While thinking this, she was suddenly startled again—why was she thinking about whether it was appropriate for him, not whether she was willing? Didn’t her heart still harbor resentment and questions? How could she be willing to give herself so rashly? Wasn’t that a bit cheap?

Perhaps it was a normal physiological reaction. Perhaps during this period, his shadow had never faded from her heart, deepening daily amid daily doubts. Right now her body was telling her she wanted it, but her psychology told her this didn’t seem like the right time yet.

His skin grew even hotter, like a piece of smooth silk scorched by fire, gliding over her body. Those warm, soft rubbings, trembling breaths and caresses were enough to ignite the reason of all young lovers. At this moment the air was hot, the earth was hot, even the breath brushing her face was scorching and tender. Blood boiled in her vessels, every piece of skin was calling out, calling for intimate closeness, complete exposure, and fierce penetration.

She suddenly felt danger, feeling the rope seemed too tight, and he was too excited. In the dim light, she could see his neck tensed, feel his breathing too rapid. His upper body leaned back slightly. She couldn’t know his heartbeat, but her own heart was already galloping like a horse.

After so long, she had developed an instinct for danger. She suddenly turned over, pressing him beneath her again. The rope loosened again, and both shuddered. Her body went weak, uncontrollably collapsing on his chest. Again she felt that thread of bone-deep coldness, colder than before. She felt his body suddenly go soft, more powerlessly soft on the ground than before.

That tense tension relaxed slightly, her heart settled slightly too, but the inner fire didn’t subside. In her dizzy confusion, she instinctively reached downward… but he suddenly grabbed her hand.

“Hengbo…” He seemed very tired, his voice very low, with nasal tones that made it sound even deeper and more seductive. “Don’t move… I don’t want to right now…”

Her anger immediately flared up—talking as if I want to rape you! You were clearly the one who made the first move! Who was doing the seducing!

After anger came dejection—what was going on? Putting other things aside, just physiologically speaking, did she really have no charm at all? Every time at crucial moments, he was the one calling it off. Weren’t women supposed to be the coy ones…

After dejection came anger again—right, old scores hadn’t been settled. What reason was there to give it to him now? Get things clear first before anything else!

She yanked her hand away with a swoosh, despising herself, wanting very much to slap herself, but unwilling to show weakness before him. She gritted her teeth and grabbed his throat. “Tell me why!” She thought he better not open his mouth to say “no reason,” or she would definitely go crazy.

He didn’t move, eyes slightly closed, throat gripped. His voice sounded even lower, therefore even more seductive.

“No reason.”

Jing Hengbo was like a cat jabbed with a needle, sitting bolt upright.

“Goodbye.” She was no longer excited, saying coldly, “I’ll only say this once. Next time we meet, you and I will be mortal enemies.”

“Jing Hengbo!” He reached out and grabbed her, his voice urgent, almost stern.

She violently shook off his hand. “Get lost!” She got up, but forgot they were connected by rope. When she stood up, he was also half-dragged up. Seeing the rope deeply cutting into his waist, he didn’t make a sound.

Watching this, her heart ached slightly. After the pain came even more vigorous anger.

What exactly did he want to do!

Self-torture?

If he loved self-torture, he could go torture himself somewhere uninhabited. Don’t drag her into it, tormenting and playing with her!

She only had one heart. It couldn’t withstand this kind of daily, monthly grinding.

“Gong Yin!” Unable to bear it anymore, she exploded, sitting on Gong Yin and pointing at his nose.

“Is there anyone as crazy as you in this world? Deceiving me, betraying me, driving me away, then following me, protecting me, toying with me! You want to break up but you follow, you want to sever ties but you protect, you want to never see each other again but won’t leave. What kind of madness are you suffering from? Or do you treat me as an amusing toy, testing my endurance, patience and resilience? What can’t be said plainly? What can’t be explained? What huge hardship requires you to be so split-personality? If you want to split personalities, do it to yourself in a mirror. Don’t come tear at me, don’t come tear at me!”

She wiped her hand on her leg, and a dagger flashed coldly. She went to cut the rope.

Since he still refused to speak, there was nothing more to say. If he insisted on tearing at her, she would tear at him first. Today she would cut this rope, and once out of this cellar, she and he would truly go their separate ways.

From now on, he could no longer appear by her side, because she would never be deceived by him again.

His fingers reached over to stop her again. She was angered into laughter, coldly laughing as she ignored him completely. But he wouldn’t relent either. With a slice, the sharp dagger cut his finger, immediately causing blood to flow.

But that blood seemed to ignite her eyes like fire—emotional manipulation, emotional manipulation again!

Did he think emotional manipulation could make her give up?

Want to play emotional manipulation? Then let’s get even more ruthless!

Her dagger pointed downward, already passing his finger to press against his lower abdomen.

The icy blade tip pressed against his vital area. He opened his eyes to look at her, his gaze clear.

“Emotional manipulation, is it? Come on, come on.” She said viciously, “If you don’t answer me, don’t explain, then I can only remember grudges and not kindness. You’re still my enemy. You betrayed me, nearly poisoned me to death. So now, if I were to ruin you, wouldn’t that be perfectly justified?”

He lay there, his eyes clear and bright as ice crystals, staring at her unblinkingly, as if only wanting to seize this time to look at her without missing a moment, to see more even if just a few more glances. As for what she was saying, he’d deal with that later.

This attitude of inner steel wrapped in soft cotton left her helpless. Her heart ached with frustration, and she couldn’t help applying force, the blade tip slightly piercing flesh, seeping a thread of blood.

Just as she was getting a bit soft-hearted, he suddenly said, “If this can help you vent your anger, then there’s nothing wrong with it.” After speaking, he suddenly sat up.

With the knife pressed against his lower abdomen, this sitting up would drive the knife into his belly. She was so startled she quickly let go. The knife slid along his waist and clattered to the ground.

“You’re crazy.” She said angrily, “Don’t you know that with this knife in your belly, you’d never be a man again for the rest of your life!”

“I know.” He smiled lightly and clearly, then actually lay back down. “Anyway, since I can’t sleep with the person I want to sleep with, it doesn’t matter if I’m ruined.”

Jing Hengbo made an “eh” sound, looking at him in disbelief, unable to believe such crude words had come from the clear and noble Gong Yin’s mouth.

The person he wanted to sleep with—who?

Of course she knew it was herself. She wanted to scold, but had absolutely no reason to—he hadn’t explicitly said it was her, so why was she being so presumptuous in claiming it?

Her heart felt like it was being fried in oil, tormented by his soft non-cooperation until her insides burned with no recourse. She couldn’t kill, couldn’t wound, threats were useless. She could only kneel to one side, gripping the dagger and stabbing viciously at the ground. She stabbed the ground full of messy holes, like her heart riddled with wounds at this moment.

Gong Yin slightly opened his eyes, glanced at her, his gaze showing slight regret.

It wasn’t affectation, nor was he deliberately trying to torment her. Being interrogated was something he had anticipated before coming down. But the key was how to answer.

If she pressed and asked, and he answered—if the answer came too easily, she would still be suspicious.

It had to be an answer that she had struggled desperately to extract, only then would she believe she had truly forced out the truth.

Jing Hengbo suddenly cried “Aiya” and reached to grab her finger.

In her wild stabbing, she had accidentally injured her finger.

Gripping her finger, she instinctively looked up and met Gong Yin’s gaze, clearly tense.

Meeting that gaze, her heart suddenly became clear.

How foolish—how could she have forgotten the best method for dealing with him? Hadn’t she used this very method before to force him to appear directly!

He wasn’t afraid of death or injury, so threats were useless. But what about her emotional manipulation?

With a cold laugh, she flipped her hand, pointing the dagger at her own heart.

Gong Yin’s gaze tightened.

“Gong Yin.” Jing Hengbo said coldly, “I’ve had enough, truly had enough. I’m human, with blood, flesh, and heart. I suffered your palace sect’s coercion and poisoning. I lost my best friend in Dige. I was pressured by everyone at the city walls. Finally I was driven to Dai Mo by all of you. Even if I had committed the greatest crimes, these punishments should be enough to offset them. I have no reason to continue enduring your back-and-forth torment, with rights and wrongs, truths and falsehoods driving me to near madness. I shouldn’t continue paying for your possessiveness and selfishness, taking every step while being watched from the shadows. Gong Yin, if it’s because you don’t trust me, I promise to leave forever and never involve myself in Dahuang’s imperial power. If it’s because…” She laughed coldly, “Because of your perverted so-called love, I hereby refuse it.”

He seemed to shudder, then after a long while said softly, “Hengbo, I think you love me.”

“I loved you once,” she didn’t hide it, “perhaps I still love you now. I won’t deny feelings out of spite. But I don’t want impure feelings, feelings full of doubt, feelings of constant hesitation and uncertainty. Such feelings are too entangled, too hurtful. How much heart and time does a person have to resist such long, heart-grinding damage? Compared to such uncertain feelings, I love freedom more, love being myself more, love being Jing Hengbo who can make her own decisions every day.”

“What I want you to reach is exactly such days.” He slightly closed his eyes.

“Is that so?” Jing Hengbo pressed on, “Then tell me why. Give us both a chance.”

He remained silent.

“I’m threatening you with death, and it still can’t get one truthful word from you? Do you really want to toy with me to the end, making me carry mysteries to my grave even in death?” She said resentfully and mournfully, “Gong Yin, what sins did I commit in my past life to meet you?”

His body trembled slightly. She seemed to see a flash of snowy light in his hair, gone in an instant.

“I can’t turn back to my past life, can’t control this life, but I can still choose my next life,” she said through gritted teeth with a smile, “I only ask that in my next life, I won’t meet you.”

The dagger plunged toward her chest.