After vomiting by the stream, Pei Shu angrily scooped water to wash his face. This stretch of water had just been used to wash pots, but unfortunately, with anger clouding his head, he couldn’t notice this now.

The cold stream water splashed on his face. There seemed to be some taste in the water, and only now did he realize this section of water was slightly murky with some oil floating on it. This involuntarily made him think of the large intestines that had been floating in the oily soup earlier… the urge to vomit returned.

With everything going wrong, his heart fire burned even fiercer. Hearing the chatting and laughing from over there, Pei Shu suppressed and suppressed the anger in his heart.

The violent tiger in his chest couldn’t be released from its cage right now. Jing Hengbo’s obsession with Gong Yin was too deep—no matter how many grievances remained unresolved in his heart, it wasn’t appropriate to strike in front of her.

If he struck, he might lose her forever.

At this moment, Pei Shu harbored countless resentments, only hating that Gong Yin had lightly abandoned his kingdom, wanting nothing and exiling himself from the world, now still appearing in this disabled state. He would rather Gong Yin still possessed the world as State Preceptor or Emperor, dominating the world with martial prowess and wisdom. Then he would lead iron cavalry to fight Gong Yin honorably beneath the city walls—if victorious, winning gloriously; if defeated, losing willingly. Not like now, where not striking left old hatred unresolved, but striking would be ungallant victory.

With great effort suppressing his killing intent, he strode back to sit down. Jing Hengbo, afraid he’d be embarrassed, had neither gone to the stream to comfort him nor looked over there. Now seeing his expression, she felt somewhat sorry and specially picked up a piece of lean meat for him, saying, “This is what you like to eat.”

Pei Shu’s expression cleared slightly. Without picking up his bowl, he simply opened his mouth to receive it. Jing Hengbo’s hand paused, instinctively wanting to glance at Gong Yin. Just then Gong Yin looked up, saw Pei Shu’s expression with a furrowed brow, and suddenly flicked his finger.

“Snap.” Jing Hengbo’s chopstick tip broke. The meat fell into the soup bowl, splashing broth onto Pei Shu’s still-open mouth.

…Deathly silence.

Jing Hengbo froze.

Everyone at the table showed terrified expressions, with some beginning to quietly scoot their stools backward.

Pei Shu remained motionless, looking down at the broken chopstick, not even raising his hand to wipe the soup from his face.

This moment of quiet was extremely hard to endure.

The only one who didn’t feel uncomfortable was probably Gong Yin, who silently ate several mouthfuls of white rice at a pace faster than usual, as if planning to finish quickly.

The crisp sound of chopsticks hitting the porcelain bowl edge was clearly tiny, yet now it sounded startling to everyone’s ears.

Pei Shu slowly raised his eyes.

The next moment he suddenly smiled.

This smile showed snow-white teeth, gleaming coldly. Though his face was full of sunshine and brilliance, everyone shivered as if seeing a fierce beast baring its fangs at prey that dared toy with it.

Jing Hengbo cried out urgently, “Pei Shu, don’t—”

Her voice had barely left her mouth.

A sword gleam had already appeared.

The sword light seemed to suddenly generate from thin air, sweeping diagonally upward from above the table. In an instant, fierce winds arose, and all the dishes on the table actually rose an inch into the air together. With a “whoosh” of air being pierced, that snowy line had already reached between Gong Yin’s brows and lashes.

The sword qi was as sharp as lightning. Everyone felt their faces grow cold as misty objects seemed to fall before their eyes.

Everyone cried out in alarm—at such close distance with such sudden attack, how could he dodge?

But Gong Yin seemed prepared.

Just as the sword qi rose like the first ray of sunrise, he had already vanished from beside the table. The next instant came a muffled “bang” as Jing Hengbo was kicked sliding away, person and stool together. Since Jing Hengbo sat right beside Pei Shu, her slide and collision knocked Pei Shu backward as well. The sword light “slashed” overhead, raising a table’s worth of soup like a crystalline fan.

After a moment the wind sounds ceased. All the dishes lifted by the sword qi clattered back into bowls, along with some dark, fuzzy things. People felt their faces grow cool, and looking carefully discovered those dark fuzzy things were actually hair—head hair, whiskers, eyebrows. Pei Shu’s sword qi was too sharp, instantly shaving off some facial hair from everyone.

And Gong Yin was already sitting steadily half a zhang from the table, while Jing Hengbo had crashed diagonally against a tree behind her, also sitting. Because she’d been kicked away from the table in time, her facial hair remained undamaged, avoiding the tragedy of becoming “Jing the Eyebrowless.”

Everyone remained shaken when Pei Shu suddenly snorted coldly. With a leap of his long legs, he flew up, stepping onto the table, crushing bowls and scattering meat everywhere. His sword struck down from above, swift as chasing wind and commanding lightning, once again chopping toward Gong Yin’s head.

“Enough!” A figure flashed as Jing Hengbo positioned herself in front of Pei Shu’s sword.

“Get out of the way!” Pei Shu roared angrily.

“I said enough!” Jing Hengbo kicked toward his long sword.

“Jing Hengbo!” White light suddenly withdrew as Pei Shu forcibly stopped his sword momentum. His sword tip was only an inch from Jing Hengbo’s shoe sole—one step slower and he could have crippled her leg.

Pei Shu forcefully checked his momentum, the internal energy rebounding. “Pfft”—he spat out black blood. His body lurched forward, his forehead nearly touching his own sword tip. When he raised his head again, his jade-white forehead had been cut by the sharp sword qi, a line of deep red standing vertical between his brows. With brows raised fiercely and blood-red lips, he looked like the blood-thirsty, vengeful Erlang Shen.

Even Jing Hengbo was startled by this version of Pei Shu.

In her shock she also felt a headache. She knew Pei Shu and Gong Yin had old grievances. It’s just that the two rarely had direct face-to-face contact before, and over time she’d forgotten about these resentments. Now with old grudges unresolved and new romantic rivalry added, plus Pei Shu’s explosive temperament that couldn’t tolerate even a grain of sand in his eyes, neither compromising nor yielding—how would this be handled in the future?

And there was Gong Yin, who seemed indifferent but was actually extremely possessive. That kind of proud, cold attitude actually provoked people’s anger more easily. These two together were like splashing cold water into a hot oil pan—burning even fiercer.

“Pei Shu,” she could only coax him, softening her voice, “don’t be like this. Why argue with a prisoner? Later I’ll specially make another…”

“Don’t try to muddle through.” Pei Shu’s brows stood up as he coldly interrupted, “A real man repays kindness with kindness and revenge with revenge. If you’ve lost your conscience and sense of justice, then go ahead and keep blocking me!”

Jing Hengbo’s mouth twitched. She really wanted to give this bearish man a good whack on the head too, but could only shout without turning back, “Take that person away!”

Several officers quickly went over and surrounded Gong Yin. Gong Yin pushed away those who came to assist him and retreated to one side himself.

He still wore that indifferent expression, not intending to fight with Pei Shu—getting serious with Pei Shu would only make things twice as difficult for Jing Hengbo.

Neither men nor women liked people who made things difficult for them. This was what “subduing the enemy without fighting” meant.

Pei Shu stepped forward while Jing Hengbo slid to block him. After several rounds, Pei Shu raised his sword tip slightly and angrily said, “You really want to block me? Jing Hengbo, are you being reasonable or not?”

Jing Hengbo blinked, feeling this reasoning was indeed difficult to explain, but she had to block him no matter what, so she said, “You promised to act with me!”

Pei Shu laughed bitterly in his fury. “Acting! You really think you can fool him!”

Jing Hengbo remained silent, thinking that whether she could fool him or not, making him somewhat doubtful and willing to explore was already a successful step. At the very least, he was now actively appearing beside her, wasn’t he?

But how could she voice these thoughts and pour oil on Pei Shu’s fire?

At this moment, Jing Hengbo deeply regretted not summoning Meng Potian to her side—she needed to have her come quickly.

“Get out of the way!” Pei Shu pushed her aside. “Though he’s disabled, his martial arts remain. If you don’t want things to get out of hand, let me fight him fairly!”

“Fair my ass!” Jing Hengbo pushed him back, shoving him all the way behind a tree and lowering her voice. “A duel at your level means either death or serious injury. Whether either of you gets hurt, I can’t bear it. Have you considered my feelings?”

“Then have you considered my feelings?” Pei Shu growled lowly, flames blazing in his eyes. “Don’t you know how Gong Yin treated me back then? One counter-espionage scheme injured my body and stole my reputation, casting me into the dust. If I hadn’t fought desperately to hold on at Tianhui Valley, my subordinates and I would already be a pile of white bones in that valley! Such a blood feud—you want me not to avenge it? What reason do you have to demand I not avenge it?”

“What happened between you back then was all according to Jin Zhaolong…” Jing Hengbo said weakly, “Perhaps there were still misunderstandings…”

“How long will he continue bullying me?” The fury in Pei Shu’s eyes nearly splashed onto Jing Hengbo’s face. “The blood feud from back then remains unavenged, and now he comes to steal the woman I love. I endured it for you, yet he still dares provoke me. Jing Hengbo, Pei Shu is a man of backbone—if you want me to endure like this, you might as well call me dead!” He raised his hand and struck with his sword horizontally. “Crack”—a tree trunk thick as a water bucket split in two. In the thunderous crash of its falling, his voice was stern and harsh. “I might as well die and fulfill you two heartless, ungrateful people!”

“Clang.” The sword rang as Pei Shu suddenly drew his blade and left without looking back.

Wood chips and broken leaves sprayed over Jing Hengbo’s head and face. By the time she wiped the debris from her eyes and tried to pursue, the angry departing shadow of Pei Shu had already crossed the camp and disappeared far down the mountain path.

Jing Hengbo stood dazed for a long time, feeling her heart like a tangled mass soaked in ice water—twisted, confused, and bone-chillingly cold.

Gong Yin sat at a distance watching the dispute, slightly frowning.

Nan Jin suddenly walked over and waved at the people guarding Gong Yin. Those soldiers all knew she was formidable and could only scatter a bit.

Nan Jin stood beside Gong Yin, picking at her white rice that had been washed by the heavenly wind, asking Gong Yin, “Full?”

Instead of answering, Gong Yin asked, “You poisoned?”

Nan Jin nodded then shook her head. “I did it, but it wasn’t my idea. Someone wanted to lure enemies.”

Gong Yin looked at her with some surprise—he didn’t think Nan Jin’s personality would understand scheming.

Indeed, Nan Jin matter-of-factly added, “…Jing Hengbo’s doing.”

Gong Yin’s eyes showed slight satisfaction, but Nan Jin said, “Why save Pei Shu? Wouldn’t it be more convenient if he died?”

Her bowl of clear water was poisoned water. When the poisoned water was poured into the stream, the soldiers washing pots were immediately driven away. The water flow here wasn’t particularly strong, so the poisoned water temporarily lingered on the surface with the grease. Pei Shu happened to come and bury his face to wash vigorously, naturally drinking some poisoned water unintentionally.

Gong Yin had seen the black qi between his brows and realized he was poisoned.

It was also calculating that Pei Shu’s anger had reached its peak that he acted to break Jing Hengbo’s chopsticks. Fighting over jealousy was fake; calculating that Pei Shu would inevitably explode because of this was real. Pei Shu cultivated pure yang internal energy—with his anger surging, he could force out the poison.

Gong Yin slightly turned his head as if unwilling to answer this question, but Nan Jin stubbornly moved in front of him, staring at him.

Gong Yin’s gaze passed over her and settled on Jing Hengbo, who was sighing and hesitating behind the tree.

Nan Jin was shocked by the spring-water soft waves of tenderness in his eyes at that moment.

After a moment, she heard him answer lightly, “Because she would be sad.”

…

At the same moment, in Sishui Prefecture south of Lin Prefecture and Qianchuan Prefecture north of Lin Prefecture, two princely mansions with towering buildings and high eaves housed two Yu Kingdom princes standing before desk tables in their studies, staring at white bones on black cloth with shocked expressions.

In Sishui Prince’s mansion, Yu Chong picked up the hand bone that was obviously longer than others, holding it up to sunlight. In the sunlight, his hand was almost as long as that bone.

Yu Chong’s expression was grim as he asked coldly, “Where did this thing come from?”

An official bowed respectfully. “They said it was a gift from the Yelu family of Lin Prefecture to Your Highness…”

“Lin Prefecture…” Yu Chong narrowed his eyes and suddenly threw the bone onto the table. “Immediately send people to the capital to pay respects to the Great King. This time, no matter what method is used, we must see the Great King. Don’t do anything else—just get a good look at the Great King’s hands!”

“Yes!”

“Also…” Yu Chong’s gaze grew increasingly cold. “Summon the mansion’s three guards, muster all guard troops and mansion officers, and invite the prefectural governor, judge, and military advisor of Sishui Prefecture. We may need to make a trip!”

…

In Qianchuan Prince’s mansion, Yu Zhi, three years younger than Yu Chong, turned the hand bone over and over, saying with a grin, “Sending such a thing as a gift is quite peculiar indeed.” He casually tossed the hand bone. “This isn’t just some random dead uncle’s hand bone to fool me, is it? Look at this bone—how many years has it been buried?”

A physician quickly stepped forward, examined it carefully for a long time, then said cautiously, “Your Highness, this bone was buried in earth for no more than two years.”

“My last uncle died five years ago.” Yu Zhi’s eyes flashed with an eerie light as he murmured, “According to this, this bone becomes interesting…”

He extended his hand to tap the bone, laughing heartily. “Only people of our Yu Kingdom royal family would be born with unusually long hands. Two years… Lin Prefecture… the Yelu family. Wasn’t it exactly two years ago that Father King and the Regent Prince toured the northern border together? It was in Lin Prefecture that the assassin incident occurred, then the Great King became paralyzed and bedridden, never seeing anyone again, while the Regent Prince gradually seized power… How convenient. Only four long-handed Yu Kingdom royals remain in the world, all in their proper places. Whose hand bone could this be…”

Everyone was chilled—such questions touched the most untouchable royal secrets. Once the truth was revealed, it would surely bring bloody storms.

Yu Zhi tossed up the bone and caught it nimbly. “But why am I more interested in the person who sent me this bone…”

…

That night, except for the departed Pei Shu, soldiers of both the Horizontal Halberd Army and escort troops had an exciting time.

Several steaming large pots lined up in a row. Soldiers formed long queues while red-faced cooks lifted ladles, the spoons trembling with crystal-bright, oily braised pork.

Compared to the soldiers’ laughter and joy, Jing Hengbo appeared quite desolate, lazily crouching by the stream, splashing water listlessly. Sometimes when footsteps approached, she would look up, but seeing it wasn’t someone bringing news of Pei Shu, she’d squat down dispirited again.

She was very worried, afraid that hothead Pei Shu would charge straight to Yu Guangting’s face. If something happened then, how could she bear it?

But there were no skilled fighters around to stop him. She had to look after the entire army herself. She’d thought of asking Nan Jin, but Nan Jin expressed her refusal with a proud back.

Suddenly there was movement behind her. Looking back, she saw a fire had somehow appeared by the stream. Gong Yin sat beside it, casually picking up branches from the tree Pei Shu had chopped down to feed the flames. The fire danced crimson and bewitching, making him appear even more like jade and snow, as if he might melt at any moment. Yet with red light reflecting on his features, he seemed to have a few more traces of worldly warmth.

One red, one white; one moving, one still—all were extreme contrasts. Jing Hengbo was accustomed to his thousand changing faces, whether icy and cold, but she rarely saw him like this amid worldly life. For a moment she stared at him, forgetting to look away.

Warmth seemed to surge in her heart. She suddenly understood that all this time, when thinking of Gong Yin, there was always cold, hidden pain in her heart. That was because of his distance and coldness, and her understanding that his distance and coldness weren’t willing. What she wanted to do was pull him close from the horizon, redeem him from ice and snow, let this mortal world’s misty life give his eyes a bright color that could smile and be vivid.

When he was willing to approach fire, she was willing to be the moth that flew to flames first.

The fire made crackling sounds and gave off a peculiar fragrance. Jing Hengbo looked at Gong Yin in astonishment. Gong Yin poked with a branch, and from the fire rolled out a pile of split soybeans and roasted broad beans…

Jing Hengbo began coughing.

She’d just been hoping he’d be more worldly, but this was too worldly—snow-white robes and roasted beans…

Gong Yin never seemed to feel embarrassed. Without looking up, he said, “Didn’t eat enough.” His branch poked, dividing half the soybeans and broad beans to her.

The aroma of roasted things had a unique penetrating power. Jing Hengbo, who also hadn’t eaten enough, immediately felt hungry. She peeled shells and ate—the soybeans were golden yellow, the broad beans bright green, all crispy and fragrant, crunching in her mouth. They were just too hot, so Jing Hengbo kept switching hands, huffing and puffing.

Suddenly Gong Yin poked with his branch, moving her half back to his side. Jing Hengbo looked up at him in surprise, but he still wouldn’t meet her gaze. Soon he moved the beans back again. When Jing Hengbo ate them, she found their temperature much reduced—probably his careful use of true qi to cool them for her.

Without looking up, Jing Hengbo crunched on beans, sudden bittersweet feelings arising—she’d sent him food so many times before, and finally there came a day when she ate something he’d personally made. Though it was just beans, eating them brought rich flavors. But among these rich flavors grew several parts resentment—when she begged and pursued him, he didn’t want her; when she ignored and mistreated him, he came offering roasted beans. Men were truly cheap!

The beans jumped in her mouth, making even louder crunching sounds from her forceful chewing.

Gong Yin barely ate, just slowly using his branch to shell soybeans and broad beans for her, his eyes gentle in the firelight.

Since such peaceful coexistence was rare, he’d try to leave her some beautiful memories. He couldn’t prepare delicious meals like Yelu Qi, but roasting a few beans was fine.

Jing Hengbo chewed resentfully for quite a while before remembering he seemed not to be eating. Just as she looked up to speak, Gong Yin suddenly raised his hand, his sleeve brushing past her lips.

The soldiers nearby had been watching alertly and seeing this scene all drew swords to advance, but how could they match Gong Yin’s speed? Jing Hengbo only felt coolness at her lips as soft fabric brushed past like an instant light snowfall.

When she looked up, Gong Yin had already withdrawn his sleeve, which now bore a dark smudge. He glanced at it casually. “Duck in a ditch.”

Jing Hengbo couldn’t follow his thinking and asked stupidly, “Huh?”

“Minding the mouth but not the body.” Gong Yin concluded.

Jing Hengbo threw all the bean and pod shells at him.

Gong Yin raised his sleeve to block. Jing Hengbo lunged forward clutching two soybean stalks, looking into his eyes—deep and black, with starlight overflowing, containing all the universe’s darkness and light, reflecting only one tooth-and-claw her.

Her body froze, momentarily dazed and confused.

In her memories, had there ever been such intimate playfulness?

This worldly life and natural joking—was it perhaps just another scene of compensation before parting again?

Near home, emotions grow timid; near him, emotions also grew timid.

She’d leaned too far forward and lost focus at the worst moment, swaying forward as if about to fall onto him.

Suddenly someone urgently reported: “Your Majesty! Something’s wrong! After eating, the soldiers are all poisoned!”

…

On the mountain peaks, a figure sped like wind.

Wherever he passed, leaves rustled into banners, his hair also straightened like a banner, fluttering fiercely in the wind.

Pei Shu had been racing wildly through the mountains for some time, the fury in his heart still blazing unextinguished.

That mass of anger was hard to calm. He stood on the mountain peak looking down at the abyss below where layers of clouds rolled, feeling his mood was like these deep, cloud-covered depths—no end in sight, no destination known.

Suddenly he turned sharply.

Behind him, somehow, stood a man cloaked in black from head to toe.