Yelu Qi rushed to Jing Hengbo’s side.

He had brought his sister over, and upon arriving, had Yelu Xunru go entangle Purple Micro Sage while he rushed to Jing Hengbo’s side. Seeing her unharmed, he felt slightly relieved.

Across from them was a rabbit-like creature, crouching in an innocent, harmless posture, eating pine nuts.

Yelu Qi had no time to focus on the rabbit—he noticed something was wrong with Jing Hengbo.

Her face was pale, expression rigid, gaze fixed on a point ahead, but she wasn’t really looking at that point. Rather, she seemed to be looking through it at more distant heaven and earth.

Her eyes held faint disgust, deep pain, and endless fear.

What made her hurt and afraid?

He stared at the black ghostly flames floating in those dark eyes, feeling his own heart slowly tightening.

Something must have happened.

Then he heard Jing Hengbo ask him in a cold, slow voice full of despair: “Gong Yin, do you want to kill me?”

Yelu Qi shuddered.

For an instant, he wanted to correct her—he never wished to be anyone’s substitute.

He wanted to shout, to shatter her current nightmare.

However, years of struggle and combat experience immediately told him that at this moment, she was breaking through a barrier.

She had suffered the gravest injury but couldn’t vent it, forcibly suppressing it, using laughter to cover her inner wounds.

She appeared whole and satisfied, but was actually full of hidden dangers. Any important mental cultivation method of any sect first required a complete, strong state of mind without cracks.

Using glue to mend wounds and painting them with bright red didn’t mean the heart no longer had injuries.

This was a lurking chronic illness, watching from her path to martial achievement. Unable to cast off and truly let go, she could erupt dangerously at any time.

Today’s outcome related to whether she could achieve great freedom in heaven and earth, whether her heart demons could be completely broken.

He took a breath, only now clearly hearing that question, his heart immediately aching dully.

On that snowy night when the palace was stormed in Di Ge, he was in his mansion having long talks with masked men about Di Ge’s general situation, busy with intrigue. Though he later learned what happened, this was the first time he heard the private conversation between her and Gong Yin that day.

Between lovers, there had actually been such a question.

He didn’t know how Gong Yin had answered that day, but he only wanted to help her at this moment.

To cover that day’s deep snowy pain with a new result, to exchange it for a new world.

“No,” he said immediately. “Hengbo, this kingdom and empire aren’t that important. Let them make their fuss—we’ll go our own way.”

Jing Hengbo trembled slightly.

In the midst of coldness, hearing such words was like seeing a lamp suddenly light in flying snow.

Go our own way.

Laugh loudly, brush clothes and return, toward famous flowers and fine wine, completely intoxicated. The world’s affairs—let others handle them.

Something cold in her heart trembled slightly and broke. A warm current began flowing.

…

The next instant, the scene suddenly changed again. A long palace corridor—her hands bound with chains, behind her the opposition ministers escorting her into the palace, facing her was him in snow-white robes, his entire being crystalline ice and glass.

“Gong Yin, how cruel you are.”

What followed was a scene, or rather what she had thought was acting at the time—was it actually not acting? Or were all the scenes acting?

…

Yelu Qi closed his eyes.

He knew the continuation of this dialogue, because at the time Jing Hengbo and Gong Yin had spoken before all the ministers—everyone had heard.

He knew these conversations were the knot of deep pain in Jing Hengbo’s heart. No matter how they were explained in the future, the hurt had already been inflicted in that moment.

From his standpoint, he had no need to help Gong Yin rebuild his image in Jing Hengbo’s heart.

However, this concerned Jing Hengbo’s state of mind.

He finally spoke.

“Hengbo, trust me.”

She trembled slightly again. Something deep in her heart cracked with a “snap,” and white airflow swirled like misty moonlight.

…

The scene changed again.

The palace was full of dark corners, and the dark corners were full of dark people. Everyone’s face was blurred, only he under the corridor was clear and cold as snow.

Her hands were covered with sticky blood—Cui Jie’s blood. Cui Jie’s corpse was still in her arms, cooling inch by inch.

“Gong Yin, why weren’t you here just now?”

…

Why weren’t you here?

Yelu Qi stepped forward, catching her confused raised hands, gripping them tightly, warming her current coldness with his palms. He sighed softly, his voice gentle.

“I’m here. I’ve always been here. Give me time—I’ll definitely come back.”

She trembled again, dust scattered and light was born within her, shooting a straight beam of light.

…

The next moment, still in that brocade-piled jade chamber, Ming Cheng was indignantly talking endlessly while he stood silently under the corridor, his expression fixed like a statue.

She slowly raised her hand toward him, pressing her own heart.

“Gong Yin, all this time, so long—between you and me, was it sincere or false? Was it wholehearted devotion or intentional harm? Was it to seize power, or merely to seize your heart… tell me you know.”

After saying this, she stepped back somewhat bewildered, deep pain arising in her chest. Memory told her this question had received no answer.

…

Yelu Qi’s complexion also gradually paled.

He could see light inch by inch igniting in her eyes, and he could see those lights extinguished by wind in the next instant. He saw her expression struggling, wavering between entanglement with the past and hope for the future.

Hearing these questions one by one, he could hardly imagine that before him, the unrestrained and bright Jing Hengbo would actually humble herself so, speak so softly and gently, assume such a nearly pleading, humble posture to seek one person’s answer.

For an instant, he felt hatred and jealousy toward that man.

Hatred for his cruel heart in hurting her without knowing to treasure her, jealousy that he was so fortunate to win her heart.

He had lived freely all his life, unconstrained by sorrow or joy. When he first hurt Jing Hengbo, he hadn’t loved her deeply enough to feel piercing pain. But now, he hated Gong Yin and despised himself.

Those spoken words, those actions—merely the casual gestures of politicians. Who had thought to compensate the injured person?

Right at this moment.

He said: “Yes, you are most true. I know.”

She stopped retreating, raised her head, light gradually blooming in her eyes.

…

The next instant she supported herself against the dressing table, feeling sharp pain in her chest as if someone had punched her hard, tasting blood between her lips and teeth.

“Gong Yin… so it turns out, no matter how much I do, how much I think, it’s all just me… being overly sentimental.”

“No,” a voice immediately answered. “No one is being overly sentimental. The feelings have always been there.”

Firm, clear, unquestionable—like nails hammered word by word into the depths of her heart, to mend old wounds.

Her breathing became slightly rapid, color gradually returning to her face.

The flying snow of that night was retreating, the fierce wind was stopping, the cold air slowly warming. She heard the sound of her heartbeat.

In the distant depths of the sky, countless scenes flashed alternately like snowflakes, gradually washing away the shackles and dams in the depths of her heart. She slightly widened her eyes, suddenly shocked by the emergence of some deliberately buried truths.

Suddenly she was at the imperial square.

She fell beneath the founding empress’s statue. Across from her, the palace gates thunderously opened, and he emerged slowly, surrounded by crowds.

Across the long palace road and vast crowds, she and he looked at each other.

In an instant her state of mind changed, thoughts surged. She vaguely knew what was about to happen, but now she was unwilling. Her steps began stumbling backward.

…

Yelu Qi kept staring at Jing Hengbo’s expression.

His answers, each carefully considered, each striving to heal her wounds. He didn’t know if this was right. The entire experience was now replaying before her, and every change in dialogue could lead to different choices. Whether the altered choices would also disturb her state of mind, he didn’t know.

He could only strive for a good outcome.

He was also slightly nervous. The next moment should be the square’s rupture, Jing Hengbo’s dagger piercing Gong Yin’s chest.

Through this journey of mental retrospection, her mood should no longer be so resolute and tragic. So this final moment’s choice would determine whether she could ultimately succeed.

As long as she abandoned the blade and awakened, from then on her heart would be like a bright moon, untainted by dust.

Jing Hengbo raised her hand, already holding a dagger.

She always carried small daggers—this was a habit Gong Yin had made her develop.

Yelu Qi stepped forward. For an instant, he even hoped this blade would pierce his own chest.

At this moment he was replacing Gong Yin. If Jing Hengbo still stabbed out with this blade, it would mean she would never forgive—that she and Gong Yin would have no hope for life.

She gripped the dagger tightly, strange light in her eyes.

He waited somewhat nervously for her choice.

“Gong Yin…” she said as if in a dream. “You want to teach me to be ruthless—then what about you?”

The next instant, the dagger in her hand suddenly stabbed down toward her own chest!

…

“Tsk.”

The sound of blade entering flesh was low but thundered beside his ear. Hot liquid sprayed out, splashing her face.

She suddenly opened her eyes.

In the first instant of opening her eyes, she only felt heaven and earth were particularly bright.

The second look, she saw someone’s neck. She saw his black long hair falling softly on her chest.

Then she realized she was holding someone, her hand gripped by that person’s hand. She was stunned, feeling the dagger grasped in her hand, her expression immediately changed.

“Yelu Qi!” She cried out in alarm, but didn’t dare move her hand.

She could feel the dagger in her hand was piercing Yelu Qi’s chest.

What had just happened?

Her mind was hazy and confused. She felt very tired and empty inside. She vaguely remembered seeming to relive the Di Ge incident again, but the process and ending seemed different.

She remembered that in the final moment, her dagger had changed direction, choosing to pierce her own heart.

So…

She looked down, examining their current position. Yelu Qi had rushed over in time, using his own chest to block her dagger, so now she was in the position of embracing Yelu Qi.

She quickly released her hand and helped Yelu Qi sit down.

That dagger was indeed in Yelu Qi’s chest. Fortunately, it was still some distance from his heart. When Yelu Qi came to block this blade, he had naturally calculated the position. But Jing Hengbo didn’t dare pull out the blade for the moment, staring at it in a daze.

She also didn’t understand why she had chosen to stab herself in the final moment. Now seeing Yelu Qi’s bloodstained chest and pale face, thinking of what would have happened if no one had been beside her at that moment… she couldn’t help shivering.

“Old immortal! Old immortal!” She roared upward, preparing to ask Purple Micro Sage for some pills to first replenish Yelu Qi’s vital energy before removing the blade.

Yelu Qi slightly opened his eyes, his lips curving, gently patting her hand and saying softly: “It’s fine. Pull it out.”

From above came Purple Micro Sage’s voice, sometimes distant, sometimes near: “Jing Hengbo, you have the nerve to call me? How did you turn your trial into this? Deduct points! Deduct them all!”

“Deduct them all then!” Jing Hengbo shouted. “I’ll let you deduct another twenty points—throw down some medicine!”

“Medicine’s coming!” With a “bang,” something crashed into the grass, crying “ouch, ouch” as it got up. Jing Hengbo looked and her head grew even bigger—Yelu Xunru had been thrown down.

Jing Hengbo wanted to curse Purple Micro Sage for three days and nights, but now she wanted more to hide in a hole—she had severely injured someone’s brother. How to explain?

Yelu Xunru didn’t bother with her first, shouting up at the sky: “Purple Micro! Your chest muscles seem thinner—have you lost weight? Got something on your mind lately? Want to have a heart-to-heart talk with me?”

A distant crash sounded, as if some object had hit the mountain wall.

Jing Hengbo had no mood to laugh now, drooping her shoulders with a worried frown, preparing to face the fierce sister’s storm.

Sigh, if she was preparing to slap faces, should she move forward to meet it?

After Xunru finished shouting, not expecting Purple Micro Sage to respond, she casually turned her head, suddenly sniffed, and said suspiciously: “Smell of blood?”

Jing Hengbo hung her head like a penitent.

Yelu Xunru had already walked over. Ten years of blind life had trained her good balance—she walked slowly but steadily. As if with telepathy, she walked straight to Yelu Qi’s side, squatted down, felt around, and pursed her lips.

Just as Jing Hengbo was thinking of discussing with her how to remove the blade most safely, Yelu Xunru had already grabbed the knife handle, lifted her hand, and casually pulled the blade out.

Yelu Qi’s body jerked upward, blood spurting and splashing Jing Hengbo’s face.

Before the dumbstruck Jing Hengbo could react, Yelu Xunru had already skillfully pressed Yelu Qi’s chest wound and turned to order Jing Hengbo: “Help out—take off his clothes.”

“Ah?” Jing Hengbo was stunned.

“How can we bandage the wound without removing clothes?” Yelu Xunru’s tone was like addressing an idiot.

“Oh, oh.” Jing Hengbo hurried to undo Yelu Qi’s clothes. Yelu Qi had already fainted, his face deathly pale, but from beginning to end, he hadn’t made a sound.

Jing Hengbo had originally felt a bit embarrassed, but now couldn’t worry about much else, quickly removing Yelu Qi’s upper garments in a few moves.

“Clean water, cloth towels.” Yelu Xunru ordered while pulling wound medicine from her bosom—apparently a regular supply.

Jing Hengbo tore the inner layer of his second garment, tearing it into long cloth strips. She knew not to ask Purple Micro Sage for clean cloth—that guy wouldn’t have any, and might throw down his own underwear.

Fetching clean water, washing the wound, applying medicine and bandaging—from beginning to end it was all done by the blind Yelu Xunru, extremely quickly. In just a few rounds, she had finished bandaging, the wound properly tended, her technique more beautiful than many experienced caregivers.

Watching this, Jing Hengbo felt somewhat heartbroken—from Yelu Xunru’s casual decisiveness in pulling the blade to her skilled ease in treating wounds, one could imagine that injury was probably commonplace for these siblings.

Yelu Qi never woke, his expression very peaceful, without the pained look common in unconscious injured people. But Jing Hengbo felt he was deliberately smoothing his brow, enduring even in unconsciousness.

Enduring, not letting those who cared worry.

After Yelu Xunru finished, she casually pushed Jing Hengbo: “What are you spacing out for? Go wash your face.”

She actually knew Jing Hengbo had blood splattered on her face, while her own face was clean without a drop of blood. When pulling the blade, she had turned her head away in time.

Hearing her voice as usual without any blame, Jing Hengbo felt blocked up inside. After being stunned for a while, she got up to wash her face by the river.

Facing the bloody reflection in the river water, she stared blankly for a while, carefully thinking through what had just happened. The more she thought toward the end, the more her whole body felt cold.

She sat for quite a while before walking back, picking some wild fruit along the way. When she returned, she saw Yelu Xunru was actually quickly threading a needle, sewing a sandbag. Though the stitches were rough and somewhat crooked, the basic shape was there. Looking closer, Jing Hengbo saw she was using relatively hard pine needles as needles, unraveling thread from her own clothes, cutting cloth from her garment to sew into a pouch, filling it with fine sand, pressing it on Yelu Qi’s wound, then binding it with ties. After pressing it, she smiled happily: “This way it heals faster, and the wound closes more easily. I always treat his wounds this way—they don’t leave scars. My little Qi is so good-looking—how can he be left with a body full of messy scars?”

Jing Hengbo squatted beside her, staring at her face, feeling that from a certain perspective, this sister was the true goddess.

Her actions and behavior always made you feel shocked, yet sincerely admiring.

“What happened to little Qi again?” Yelu Xunru stroked his face, murmuring: “Did he encounter enemies?”

Jing Hengbo was stunned—such a smart sister, hadn’t she guessed the matter was related to her?

But no matter what, she didn’t want to lie and shirk responsibility. She immediately lowered her head and honestly said: “No, I stabbed him. I was bewitched by the Phantom Rabbit King and nearly committed suicide. He helped me block the blade.”

Yelu Xunru had never looked at her, but now turned her head to “look” at her. Jing Hengbo felt there seemed to be amusement in her expression.

“Is that so?” she said lightly. “Then it’s fine. Men should block blades for women.”

She seemed to be in a good mood, even whistling, saying spiritedly: “Let’s take him back to recover. He won’t die. But I can’t carry him—could you carry him?”

Jing Hengbo looked down, somewhat troubled. Yelu Xunru had torn Yelu Qi’s clothes to pieces earlier, and now he was completely exposed. His physique was very beautiful, like white marble but with more texture and elasticity. His skin gleamed faintly in the sunlight, his collarbones and shoulder lines flowing smoothly, revealing the strength and beauty of masculine bones. This was a mature and seductive male body. If she carried him back like this, even if she didn’t mind, that group would probably cause upheaval.

Yelu Xunru smiled cheerfully, seeming to welcome such upheaval.

Jing Hengbo thought about it and decided not to overthink—the injured person was important. Just as she was about to carry Yelu Qi, she suddenly heard Purple Micro Sage’s sometimes pleasant, sometimes unpleasant voice emerge from above.

“Failed the test, deduct points; Yelu Qi helped and cheated, deduct points; broke my rules, deduct points; to show punishment, none of you are allowed to return. Go to Snow Valley for outdoor survival for a month!”

“Hey, hey, hey, are you being reasonable! If you want me to do outdoor survival, let me go alone—don’t drag them into it!” Jing Hengbo panicked. What timing was this for outdoor survival? Yelu Qi was severely injured, Yelu Xunru was blind and in poor health. Such a combination for outdoor survival? In Snow Valley? Trying to freeze the injured to death?

Unfortunately, the old schemer always followed the principle of “whatever you want to do, I won’t do; whatever you don’t want to do, I’ll make you do.” Before Jing Hengbo finished speaking, she was suddenly lifted up, accompanied by Yelu Qi and Yelu Xunru. In the howling wind, Yelu Xunru was still laughing: “Purple Micro, Purple Micro, when will you carry me like this too, touring all of Seven Peaks Mountain in the sky? We’d definitely look like an immortal couple…”

Jing Hengbo felt that in this world, the only person who could make Purple Micro Sage feel irritated and abandon excessive tormenting methods was probably Yelu Xunru. So soon, they were thrown down, and Purple Micro Sage quickly left a message and ran.

“Seventh Peak Snow Valley. Test subject: survive in Snow Valley for one month. I don’t care what methods you use—I’ll come to pick you up after a month. I’ve set up formations outside Snow Valley so no one can break in to help you. This is the final major question, worth ten points. After completion, I’ll consider detoxifying you. If you can’t complete it, stay and dig holes forever, hehe.”

“I’m willing to stay and dig holes, to accompany you for life!” Yelu Xunru shouted loudly.

No echo came. Jing Hengbo believed that old immortal had definitely shot ten li away in an instant.

A wind carrying snow drifted over. Jing Hengbo shivered and only then had time to look at the surrounding environment. At first glance, she couldn’t help cursing.

It really was an icy, snowy wasteland without a blade of grass.

This valley had cliffs on three sides and one exit. No need to look—the exit side definitely had formations that prevented entry or exit. The valley had strong winds and thick snow, empty wilderness stretching far. In the distance seemed to be a dense forest, with dark howling sounds faintly coming from within, shaking snow from the steep walls.

Jing Hengbo looked down—the snow was almost knee-deep, at least fifty centimeters of accumulated snow.

Though it was nearly autumn outside, this valley was like perpetual winter. The seventh peak of Seven Peaks Mountain had always been the most dangerous and mysterious place. It was said that in some particularly hidden areas, there were even snow mountain wild men unique to Seven Peaks Mountain. She calculated there should still be some time before she could come over, but this old immortal had thrown her here so quickly—what had stimulated him?

Jing Hengbo glanced at the snowy wilderness, took a breath, then looked back at Yelu Qi in the snow and the pale-faced Yelu Xunru. She understood this wasn’t the time for cursing Purple Micro or dazing—this was essentially a life-or-death situation. She was the only healthy person and had the responsibility to take good care of the other two so they could all get out intact.

She knew that given Purple Micro Sage’s malicious nature, he might not necessarily watch them die here, but letting them freeze off some body parts—the old immortal definitely wouldn’t mind that.

All three wore thin clothes, so warmth was the priority—finding a place to shelter from wind.

She picked up Yelu Qi from the snow. He was her biggest worry now—severely injured and having lost blood, then thrown here was practically seeking death.

Yelu Xunru sighed, looking somewhat regretful, and silently began removing her outer robe. Jing Hengbo stopped her, turned around, removed her own second layer of clothing, and wrapped it around Yelu Qi.

Yelu Xunru’s expression seemed very satisfied. Jing Hengbo couldn’t help needling her: “Insisting on stripping your brother naked—regretting it now?”

“I originally wanted you to see little Qi’s beautiful body. Who could have expected these things?” Yelu Xunru said shamelessly. “But I think he himself would be willing.”

Jing Hengbo was too lazy to argue with her. Yelu Xunru could be both magnanimous and cunning—completely a multi-personality that switched at will.

Jing Hengbo carried Yelu Qi on her back and led Yelu Xunru by the hand, struggling through the snow. She wanted to teleport but found that teleporting over snow was very energy-consuming and didn’t go as far as on flat ground. She needed to conserve strength to protect these two for a month and didn’t dare waste her abilities carelessly.

It seemed Purple Micro Sage had thrown her here also wanting to train her teleportation abilities on different mediums? There was snow, ice, and marshes here. If she could teleport freely in these places, she could go anywhere in the world afterward.

Walking in snow, especially while carrying someone, was unimaginably difficult. Each step sank deeply to the knees, and when pulling out, the foot seemed to have suction at the bottom, requiring great effort. Jing Hengbo felt somewhat dazed, remembering that long, long ago, she had also carried someone and been trapped in a net. But that road wasn’t as difficult as this time. The person on her back was cold and distant, yet the skin touching his chest seemed to have warm currents…

She shook herself and smiled bitterly, laughing at how she would have inappropriate memories anytime, anywhere.

The particularly cold chest of Yelu Qi on her back also reminded her that weakness and memories were of no help to their current predicament.

Back then in mountain survival, she had always had a powerful person beside her. Now in snow survival, she had to rely completely on herself and even bear responsibility for others’ lives and deaths.

She quickened her pace, sweat slowly seeping from her forehead. Xunru, as if she could see, took out a handkerchief to wipe her sweat: “Sweating then getting wind will cause cold injuries.”

“It will stay warm.” Jing Hengbo looked up. “Let’s stop here.”

This position faced the dense forest, was relatively high, backed against cliff walls, and could take in the entire valley’s terrain. The steep wall overhead was nearly ninety degrees, slippery with ice and snow—no one could climb down. It was quite safe and sheltered from wind.

Jing Hengbo rubbed Yelu Qi’s hands. His face grew paler and more transparent, breath weak. The cold, harsh environment would worsen his injuries—he needed immediate protection from cold.

Should she build a snow house first or hunt for animal hides to wrap him in?

Jing Hengbo didn’t think long. She took out her dagger, found snow piles, and cut snow bricks about one meter long, half a meter wide, and twenty centimeters thick. The cutting sounds continued, and soon she had cut over twenty identical large snow bricks. She then used her dagger to chop down a piece of sturdy wood board, packed the snow bricks solid, cleared a space about three to four meters in diameter, first erected the snow bricks to lay a foundation, then layered them up. Each layer tilted slightly inward from the previous one, forming a semicircular snow house at the top. She then used snow to fill all the gaps between the snow brick layers. After half an hour, the snow house was complete.

Jing Hengbo didn’t dig a door, only dug an underground passage for entry—this way the interior would be warmer.

This basic snow house method she had seen in a life tips encyclopedia because it was simple to remember. She hadn’t expected it would come in handy now.

During this process, Yelu Xunru kept rubbing Yelu Qi’s body to maintain his temperature. After Jing Hengbo finished the snow house, she didn’t even have time to catch her breath before hurriedly pushing the two inside. As soon as Yelu Xunru entered, she exclaimed: “So warm! I never imagined that you, this pampered Queen Majesty, could do this.”

“I can do many things. Being a queen nowadays isn’t easy—killing, arson, fighting monsters, exorcising demons, snow survival—you must be omnipotent.” Jing Hengbo was wondering if they could make fire in this snow house, and how to warm Yelu Qi if they couldn’t, when she saw Yelu Xunru take a round stone, take Yelu Qi’s sword, and slowly carve while waving her away: “Go hunting. Remember to choose something with low danger but large size, lots of fat, and thick fur.”

Jing Hengbo smiled and went out, feeling that with Yelu Xunru there, even if she did nothing, her heart was much more settled.

After taking two steps, she stopped and said: “Xunru, during your time in the Yelu family, did you ever get any Heaven Fragrant Purple? If we had Heaven Fragrant Purple, Yelu Qi wouldn’t have any more problems.”

She always felt that the Yelu family’s third young master seemed to have special feelings for Xunru—was it possible he had given her one?

“I got one of the highest grade and gave it to little Qi.” Yelu Xunru’s fingers stroking Yelu Qi’s face were gentle. “I don’t know if little Qi used it.”

Jing Hengbo suddenly turned around: “Only one?”

“Of course.” Yelu Xunru smiled. “Do you think Heaven Fragrant Purple is broad beans sold on every street? Even the lowest grade Heaven Fragrant Purple wouldn’t be easy for me and little Qi to get given our status in the Yelu family. That one highest grade pill, I told him to keep for saving his life. Maybe he has it with him—if he really can’t hold on later, we’ll have him take it.”

Jing Hengbo opened her mouth wanting to speak but ultimately couldn’t. She seemed unable to look at the Yelu siblings anymore. Lowering her head, she quickly went out.

Her steps were too fast, almost stumbling. Wind and snow hit her face as she raised her head, seemingly not feeling the bone-piercing cold.

When he had given out that highest-grade Heaven Fragrant Purple so casually, she had also casually assumed that he could use such things at will, tossing them out like broad beans.

She was stupid. After so long, she should have understood him—even the greatest matters became just a casual smile to him, unwilling to burden others psychologically. For him, giving or receiving both came from a free heart.

She tightened her clothes and ran toward the dense forest. She would hunt the largest snow beast.

Not long after she left, in the snow house, Yelu Qi slowly opened his eyes.

As if with telepathy, Yelu Xunru immediately leaned over, showing her calm smile to his eyes.

Yelu Qi’s eyes showed slight fatigue as he sighed softly: “Why deliberately say that to her? You clearly guessed the Heaven Fragrant Purple was given to her.”

“I knew you were eavesdropping.” Yelu Xunru patted his hand. “Doing good deeds without saying so is like wearing brocade at night.”

Yelu Qi coughed lightly: “You’re adding to her burden. She’s already bearing enough.”

“I don’t think so.” Yelu Xunru disagreed. “Why can’t she see your feelings? Love openly if you love, hate clearly if you hate. I don’t force her to be my sister-in-law, but I don’t approve of you not daring to fight for it.”

“Not daring to fight…” Yelu Qi shook his head slightly, smiling. “No, I don’t think so either.”

“How exactly did you get injured? How could someone like Jing Hengbo commit suicide?”

Yelu Qi’s eyes dimmed slightly as he pressed his chest. This stab was deep and dangerous—one could imagine how much force Jing Hengbo had used.

Ordinary people would inevitably soften when stabbing themselves. Why was she so resolute? Was her heart filled with too much determination to burn bridges, or was she still heartbroken in that moment?

Then he smiled gently: “This is why I don’t want you to worry too much.”

“Hm?”

“In the illusion, her mood changed because of my participation, but she still had doubts and unease. Her self-stabbing was a test.”

“A test?”

“She chose again, didn’t stab Gong Yin again, but chose to stab herself before Gong Yin. She wanted to see if Gong Yin would save her, whether Gong Yin firmly loved her, how much Gong Yin cared about her.”

“Jing Hengbo doesn’t seem like such a fragile person. She doesn’t need to use this method to make others prove their feelings for her.”

“She doesn’t need others to do this, but she needs Gong Yin to.” Yelu Qi smiled gently, finally showing a trace of undisguised loneliness and fatigue. “If she were conscious, she indeed wouldn’t do this. But what the illusion revealed was the deepest vulnerability and pleading in her heart. This precisely shows her care for Gong Yin and her different feelings.”

…

In the dense forest, Jing Hengbo found a century-old tree and indeed discovered a hibernating snow bear in the tree’s hollow.

She bent down to drag the snow bear’s buttocks that blocked the hole entrance tightly. Unable to drag it out, she plucked a large handful of fur from that massive bear bottom.

The bear’s roar shook heaven and earth. The entire valley seemed to tremble, countless snow blocks fell with rustling sounds, clattering onto the snow house.

“You see, she still cares about you very much.” Yelu Xunru said cheerfully. “She targeted the snow bear from the start. Tsk, tsk, to wake the laziest snow bear in winter so quickly, her methods of angering the bear must be very unscrupulous.”

Yelu Qi seemed to be smiling, but his eyes flickered with worry as he suddenly said: “Dig a door hole… sister.”

“Why?”

“A door hole facing the forest…”

Yelu Xunru sighed: “You can’t go help, and it’s so far—can you even see?”

But her brother’s stubborn expression made her unable to refuse. She had to follow Yelu Qi’s directions and dig a door hole in the direction facing the forest, letting Yelu Qi half-lie so he could barely see the movement in the opposite forest.

Once the door opened, wind blew directly at Yelu Qi. Yelu Xunru sighed again, grudgingly crawling outside the snow house and shouting indignantly at heaven: “Heaven! The Yelu siblings are both passionate lovers—why can’t you let us get our hearts’ desires!”

Her shouts made the snow cliff above rumble responsively. With a “smack,” a large clump of snow fell on her head.

Yelu Xunru brushed off the snow from her head and angrily pointed at heaven: “If I can’t do it this lifetime, I’ll definitely pierce through you in the next life!”

…

In the dense forest, the enraged giant bear stood up to a person and a half’s height. Looking up, Jing Hengbo saw it like a small mountain, only vaguely seeing the beast’s yellowed fangs.

The massive shadow covered overhead, seemingly stealing the air above. She felt breathing was a bit difficult, yet she didn’t pause at all. Her figure flashed, crashing toward the giant bear. The thin blade in her bosom gleamed with a “whoosh,” still visible in the snow like an aurora flash.

Her speed could be called the world’s fastest. The bear indeed couldn’t dodge, but the blade also couldn’t pierce the bear’s belly—the knife slid directly over that snow-white fur.

Her heart sank—this Seven Peaks Mountain Snow Valley bear was indeed different from those elsewhere!

…

Yelu Qi never closed his eyes to rest, though he knew resting was the best way to heal now.

The continuous roaring from the snow forest made snow keep falling from above, snow pellets pattering on the roof. Normally it would sound quite rhythmic, but now it made one’s heart restless.

In the snow house, Yelu Qi stared toward the dense forest. The sky gradually darkened, and only snow mist could be vaguely seen rising.

Even the usually calm and unconcerned Yelu Xunru showed slight unease, but didn’t speak.

It had been almost half an hour. Not to mention the danger of fighting this fierce beast, just engaging in such intense exercise for so long in this weather was extremely dangerous in itself.

Another earth-shaking roar made the house tremble. The two held their breath, waiting for the next thunderous crash, but still didn’t hear it. After a moment, roaring continued endlessly.

Yelu Qi suddenly sat up, pressed his chest, and walked toward the exit.

Though he made no sound, Yelu Xunru immediately pounced over and blocked the doorway: “You can’t go out. In this weather, having lost so much blood, you’re already in danger. Go back!”

Yelu Qi silently pushed her aside.

Yelu Xunru didn’t block him again but turned to leave.

Yelu Qi suddenly grabbed her clothing.

Yelu Xunru turned around. The two faced each other at the snow house entrance, neither yielding.

In the dense forest, another explosive roar suddenly erupted.

…