Before her eyes was a silver-white beach. The soft fine sand was even more delicate than silk. Grabbed by one hand and gently scattered down, it fell on her bare calves and feet, ticklish and extremely comfortable.

The sea and sky were one color—within her field of vision was a sheet of clear, transparent blue, so beautiful it made one want to sigh.

That hand scattering sand traced up along her calf and thigh, flippantly skipping over her waist, hips, and chest, finally pinching her chin, half-forcing and half-gently turning her head to face him.

Finally, this picturesque young man before her eyes smiled. While smiling, he sighed and said in a low voice, “Two days now, and you’re still stubbornly incomprehensible. If you don’t want to die, why not cooperate obediently? If you find it humiliating, why not die? Actually, I wouldn’t mind collecting your corpse. I’d find a beautiful place to make your grave and often come to see my little Hu Sha.”

Hu Sha was bound by a restraining spell—she couldn’t even turn her neck, only slowly blink her eyelids.

She didn’t look at him, staring fixedly at the empty azure sky, not saying a word.

Two days ago, Feng Yi had brought her to this unfamiliar, picturesque island. From soft words to cold indifference, then developing into threats and inducements, and now simply advising her to die—he had tried almost every method. She just wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t look at him. If not for the fact that she was still breathing and her eyes were still open, Feng Yi would truly suspect he’d brought back a corpse.

He had truly become twisted—whether driven mad by Qingling Zhenjun or by himself, who knew? He maliciously pressed close to her ear, deliberately saying things to hurt her, such as: “When will you go die on your own? Killing you would dirty my hands.”

“Hu Sha, what kind of grave do you like? How about I chop you into a thousand pieces and throw you into the sea to feed the fish?”

“Hu Sha, little Hu Sha. Weren’t you deeply devoted to Fang Zhun? He’s about to die—why are you still living before me, being so annoying?”

Hu Sha seemed to have completely not heard his words.

He would be disappointed—she simply wouldn’t die. Because the instant she released the thousand-year ice at Zhiyan Studio, she had thought of Fang Zhun. That day when she played chess with him, she had stubbornly said “nothing is greater than death,” only to receive his worried yet gentle gaze in return.

“Your life weighs more heavily in my heart than heaven and earth—you cannot speak lightly of death.”

She believed Fang Zhun wouldn’t die, so she would also try every means to stay alive. Her life wasn’t hers alone to willfully discard at will, to satisfy her pride.

She must live, no matter what she must live.

Severe pain came from her scalp. Hu Sha’s head was forced upward to look at the cold countenance before her.

Feng Yi’s patience had finally been worn away by her. Grabbing her hair, he mercilessly lifted her up, forcing half her body upright. His other hand clamped around her slender neck as he said in a low voice, “You really have the ability to always provoke my anger. Keeping you now is useless. If you know what’s good for you, quickly take out the Water Glass Zither and I’ll give you a quick death.”

She just wouldn’t speak. Because she hadn’t slept for two days and nights, her eyes were red, as if tears would flow, fragile enough to make one’s heart ache.

Yet her gaze remained contemptuous, sharp as a blade.

A surge of uncontrollable irritation suddenly rose in Feng Yi’s heart.

Her person was right here, imprisoned by him. Her neck was so fragile—one squeeze would break it. Her slender limbs couldn’t be put to any use either. Her so-called strength was laughable to him now. Her hair was still gripped in his hand, soft and cool. If he pulled hard and tore it all out, watching her in pain and bleeding—that would surely feel good.

He wound her hair around his hand several times, each time unable to help wanting to pull, yet stopping himself.

He understood very clearly that even if he truly cut her into pieces, she still wouldn’t cast her gaze upon him even once. She hadn’t even reached the point of hating him yet. Her eyes showed only the ordinary reaction after being violated—contempt and anger.

In her heart, there had never been him.

For what reason did he actually feel a trace of despair? Different from the despair of having his fate toyed with by those immortals.

From this strange despair rose another scorching desire—to crush that proud and contemptuous look in her eyes, make her show some emotion, carve a bloody mark in the depths of her heart so she could never despise him again.

Whether or not he obtained the Water Glass Zither seemed to have become secondary.

After a very, very long time, he finally slowly released her long hair. Hu Sha fell back. Her scalp hurt so much she instinctively wanted to cry, but she gritted her teeth and endured it.

Feng Yi raised his hand and gently smoothed out her disheveled hair for her, spreading it out on the beach—long, jet-black, carrying a faint golden tinge under the sunlight. Truly beautiful.

“I really can’t do anything with you,” he laughed. “Fine, I lose.”

He gently picked Hu Sha up, one hand supporting the back of her neck, the other hand combing the fine sand from her hair. His fingertips occasionally swept across her eyelashes, and he found the way she blinked rapidly quite moving.

His fingers slowly caressed her cheeks. The skin’s texture was delicate and thin, as if a light scratch with a fingernail could break it.

Hu Sha’s body suddenly trembled slightly—he had scratched a small cut on her left cheek.

Suddenly, he embraced her tightly, as if wanting to crush her. His heart alternated between confusion and hatred. A drowning tide was about to drag him to the very bottom, never to turn over again.

“…I will eventually make you come crying to beg me…” His voice even carried a trace of trembling, as if he could foresee some beautiful future, unable to extricate himself from his excitement.

He bit his lip open and forcefully pressed it against the wound on her cheek, then released her restraining spell.

A passionate kiss—his lips almost felt a painful tremor. Her skin was snow and ice, completely rejecting even the slightest closeness from him.

Slowly, it became scorching hot.

Feng Yi pushed her away with force. His lips still bore a drop of her blood as he smiled strangely and gleefully.

She had been infected with demonic blood again. The wound on her cheek rapidly closed. Her originally pale complexion suddenly became rosy-lipped and white-toothed, and between her brows emerged a trace of bewitching flavor.

Because she had been infected with demon blood before, this time as soon as she smelled the scent of blood, it immediately took effect.

Feng Yi only felt immense satisfaction in his heart. His malicious revenge had finally succeeded. As if releasing a breath of pent-up air, he wiped his thumb across his lips, wiping away her血，双眼眨也不眨地盯着她的脸blood, his eyes unblinking as they stared at her face, watching her expression change a thousand times—sometimes painful, sometimes pleased, sometimes restrained.

The blood of one fallen to demonic ways was madness, exposing all the desires in the depths of one’s heart that couldn’t see light.

“Go, embrace him, because he likes you.” A voice in her heart said to her.

Hu Sha bit her lips hard until she felt a trace of pain.

No, she said softly in her heart, I don’t want to.

“Seize the moment, enjoy yourself. What does the Water Glass Zither matter? Who lives or dies—what does it have to do with you? Give him the zither. While Fang Zhun isn’t here, with such beautiful scenery on such a fine day, why waste it?”

No.

“Anyway, Fang Zhun is about to die. At first you were just attracted to his appearance. Isn’t he beautiful? Does he lose to Fang Zhun?”

No.

“Truly, you’ve never liked him even a little?”

Hu Sha shook her head.

I don’t like him, she answered.

“…You’re lying.” That voice laughed.

Hu Sha’s head and chest felt like they would explode, the pain driving her mad, using all her strength to resist the endless stream of voices deep in her heart.

Only repeating over and over in her heart to herself, no, I don’t want to.

This person she was—from inside to outside, from top to bottom, from birth until now—had nothing special about her. Always mediocre, muddling through, getting by, even her name was so ordinary.

She was just a grain of small sand in a lake, a speck of dust in the wind. It seemed a light blow could make her fly away—no one would see.

But she also had her stubbornness, something no one could shake, no one at all.

Feng Yi stood up and from a distance watched her roll in agony on the beach, her body twisted into a ball, like a struggling little insect barely clinging to life. One casual pinch of the hand would kill her, yet she didn’t know her own fragility at all, still there laughably resisting.

He didn’t even want to watch anymore, feeling ashamed for her, yet his heart felt as if something had viciously stabbed it.

He supported his forehead and took a deep breath.

He watched indifferently, watched her desperately bang her head into the sand, drawing blood, finally stumbling up and running toward the great sea.

With a splash, she jumped into the sea. The seawater rolled with waves and instantly swallowed her. After a long time, only a corner of her garment could be seen on the sea surface. Her whole body seemed drained of strength as she lay spread-eagled on it, tossed and swayed by the waves.

Truly unsightly. He said silently in his heart. Like a living, breathing disgrace existing in the world.

Yet his eyes felt slightly dry.

As if tears would fall at any moment.

The sky darkened then brightened, brightened then darkened. The passage of time on this small island was almost imperceptible.

When Feng Yi finally remembered there was still someone soaking on the beach, three days had already passed. The weather was a bit cold, the sea wind blowing hard. He wore a cloak, squinting as he searched for a human figure on the beach.

He finally found her behind a large rock—no different from a half-dead stray dog, utterly bedraggled from head to toe, filthy beyond measure.

Feng Yi very kindly kicked her lightly twice with his foot and asked gently, “Still alive?”

She moved slightly, perhaps just reflexively twitching. Feng Yi had no choice but to crouch down and carefully examine her, taking out a handkerchief to wipe the sand from her face. He was shocked to discover that the bewitching expression on her face had faded, and the wound on her left cheek had emerged, soaked white by the seawater.

The demon blood he had given her had actually been forced out and washed clean by herself.

He couldn’t help but laugh coldly in his heart, praising her: You really are something, Hu Sha.

Every time he tortured her, in the end he became the one being tortured. She tortured him, defeating him mentally, making him fall into complete disarray.

What did she rely on? She relied on nothing but his soft heart toward her, that he couldn’t truly watch her be tortured to death.

She was one step ahead of him, because her heart didn’t hold him, so she could be ruthless to the end.

Feng Yi picked up this dirty, thin mud figure, hesitating for a moment as if considering whether to throw her into the sea to let her continue soaking in seawater, or to properly heat some water to wash her.

In the end, conscience prevailed. He still very kindly patted the wet sand from her hair, looking at her deathly pale and miserable appearance, his heart feeling a painful satisfaction.

Having been tortured continuously for five days, no matter how much cultivation Hu Sha had, she couldn’t hold on. She fell seriously ill with a high fever that wouldn’t subside. Each day she only experienced various hallucinations, completely unaware of where she was.

Occasionally when she had a lucid moment and opened her eyes to look, she was also bewildered.

She would often see a pair of eyes bright as stars, staring fixedly at her, as if pitying her, yet also as if unable to restrain the urge to give her a slap—that kind of hatred.

Very familiar, but she couldn’t remember who it was.

Unlike his complex gaze, the fingers that touched her were incomparably gentle, the kind of gentleness that would accidentally shatter her. The cloth wiping her face was warm, wiping away the sweat covering her face. Then he would gently hold her in his embrace, using a comb to slowly and carefully smooth out her tangled hair.

His embrace carried a faint osmanthus fragrance, very pleasant. For some reason, this sweet scent made her feel at ease. Each day she had to lean against him before she could fall into deep sleep after drinking medicine.

Fortunately, he never left.

Finally one day she awoke clearly, curled up in the blankets and suspiciously examining her surroundings.

This place seemed to be a small house built near the beach. The sound of ocean waves drifted in from outside the window. The sea breeze carried a salty taste, unexpectedly pleasant.

Hu Sha moved slightly and felt refreshed all over, without any sticky discomfort. Touching her hair, it was also soft and clean, clearly having been very well cared for.

Was this Feng Yi’s doing?

Hu Sha didn’t know what to feel in her heart. Slap her once, then give her a sweet date? What was the point?

She pushed aside the blankets wanting to get up, but suddenly felt there was still someone lying beside her. She immediately froze in fright.

Looking down, that culprit was indeed sleeping at her side, hair draped over his shoulders, quiet and still, not moving at all. He seemed not to have awakened yet.

Hu Sha immediately held her breath, making her movements as light as possible, inching bit by bit on the bed to sit upright.

The window suddenly made a loud creaking sound—blown open by the sea wind, it struck against the wall.

Her face turned pale as she cautiously stole a glance at him, only to find he still didn’t move at all.

She wasn’t unfamiliar with this situation. Previously at Qingyuan, Feng Yi had always been mysterious, constantly suffering serious injuries, constantly suddenly losing his breath, like a dead person.

Could it be that five years later, this secret still continued?

Hu Sha considered for a moment, hesitantly placing her hand lightly by his face—not a trace of warmth, ice cold. Placing it before his nose—indeed, no breathing.

What exactly was wrong with him?

Hu Sha was no longer the naive and easily deceived little girl from five years ago, fooled dizzy by a few of his words, not daring to think further. This symptom was somewhat like what books described as “soul separation”—the body remaining in place while the soul departed. If it could smoothly return, all would be well, but if it couldn’t return, this person would be as good as dead.

Whatever the reason for his soul separation, in any case, right now this was an opportunity.

An opportunity to escape, an opportunity for revenge.

Hu Sha suddenly jumped down from the bed and felt her arm—the Eighteen Orioles had indeed been removed by him, discarded who knows where. She rummaged everywhere in the room and finally found a short blade with a purple-gold sheath in the cabinet by the bedside. It was precisely the one used that day at the Stone Mountain old hall for him to activate the Great Mount Tai technique.

Slowly drawing out the short blade, the blade body was pitch black, covered all over with blood-red curse symbols. It didn’t have the cold glint of a famous weapon, nor an exaggerated shape. But the moment the short blade left its sheath, one could immediately feel the cold intent rushing forth—indeed a fine blade.

Hu Sha gripped the handle tightly, only feeling her heart pounding fiercely, her palms full of sweat.

She took a breath and pointed the blade tip at Feng Yi, gesturing.

Kill him, kill him.

She said this to herself in her heart.

But the hand gripping the blade began to tremble, without reason.

Finally, she made up her mind, gritting her teeth and thrusting forcefully at his heart—he would die very quickly, wouldn’t even feel pain.

Her wrist was suddenly gripped tightly. Hu Sha couldn’t help but gasp, dropping the short blade and instinctively turning to run.

He pulled hard, and she immediately stumbled and rolled back. Her body felt heavy as he pressed down on her, both wrists also pressed down by his hands, unable to move.

Feng Yi looked down at his chest. The blade tip had still pierced in somewhat—his clothes were already soaked with blood.

He laughed once, looking at her pale face mockingly and saying in a low voice, “Want to kill me? What a pity. Next time you want to kill me, you’d better move faster. Don’t hesitate, or you’ll fail at the last moment.”

Hu Sha began playing mute again, not speaking, not looking at him. The situation seemed to return to five days ago, both sides locked in stalemate.

Yet Feng Yi seemed very happy, watching the blood from his chest seep out and drip onto her snow-white undergarment, like two red plum blossoms blooming in the snow.

He bent down, rubbing his cheek against hers, his voice soft as a whisper: “You were hesitating. You couldn’t bear to kill me. The way you look at me has changed. Do you hate me? Your heart finally holds me after all.”

Hu Sha suddenly felt a surge of anger about to burst through her head. Unable to endure any longer, she hatefully cursed, “Go die!”

Feng Yi quickly retrieved the short blade and flippantly pinched her face, saying gently, “If I die, who will take care of you? When you were burning with such high fever, you kept holding onto me and wouldn’t let go. Have you forgotten?”

The calm restraint from the previous days somehow suddenly disappeared. Hu Sha only felt as if she had become a lit firecracker, ready to explode at any moment. Her heart filled with shame, indignation, and embarrassment—she didn’t know what to do with her hatred.

It had always been like this—he didn’t treat people as people, casually mocking and toying with them, using a gentle manner.

Previously she had only felt anger toward him, but now it had become hatred. She wished she could bite him into pieces.

“You harmed Master—even in death I won’t let you go!” She glared at him, grimly spitting out several words.

Feng Yi smiled indifferently. “In this world, aside from celestial gods, who doesn’t die? Early death or late death, it’s all death. Rather than living in suffering, better to die quickly.”

“Then why don’t you go die?” Hu Sha struggled with all her might, kicking her legs wildly beneath him, desperately twisting her wrists to break free from his shackles.

At first, Feng Yi still engaged with her spiritedly, sometimes pressing down her arms, sometimes pressing down her legs, sometimes using his forehead to pin down her thrashing head. Fighting to the end, he seemed somewhat disinterested. He simply cast a restraining spell. Hu Sha became stiff and rigid again, frozen in place unable to move.

He touched the wound on his chest, got up and off the bed, saying in a low voice, “I too must die, without exception.”

His mood seemed to have improved. With a trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth, he took powder from a box. Just as he raised his hand to remove his clothes, he turned back to see Hu Sha’s clear black and white eyes still glaring at him viciously. He couldn’t help but say, “Pervert woman, won’t you close your eyes quickly? Do you want to take advantage of me?”

Hu Sha hatefully closed her eyes. By her ear she heard the rustling sound of him removing his clothes. Suddenly unable to resist, she abruptly opened her eyes and immediately saw his bare back, backlit, so she could only see a lean and solid silhouette.

She felt somewhat embarrassed and was about to close her eyes, but he suddenly turned around, smiling quite maliciously: “…Pervert woman, really watching.”

Hu Sha glared at him contemptuously, then suddenly saw him quickly apply the powder to his wound, then walk over and toss the bottle into the box.

No longer backlit, she immediately saw his bare upper body clearly—his skin was covered densely with tiny red lines, as if every finest vein and blood vessel was exposed, extremely terrifying. This state, she had thought would only appear when he manifested his demonic form. She hadn’t expected it was also like this normally.

She couldn’t help but gasp, her scalp tingling.

Feng Yi followed her gaze to look down at himself, casually wiping those red lines with his hand, quickly pulling on his outer garment, saying indifferently, “Very ugly? Well, there’s no helping it.”

Hu Sha suddenly recalled that Fang Zhun had said before that Feng Yi was still a mortal. Although he had fifty years of cultivation, after all he hadn’t yet become immortal. Using his mortal flesh to accept the abilities gained after falling to demonic ways, and rapidly ascending in a short time, plus absorbing the power of the five elements from the Golden Pipa and Fire-Controlling Flute—for him, this actually wasn’t a good thing.

Thinking again of how he would suddenly stop breathing when sleeping, could it also be because he had endured too much ability beyond his own limits?

She opened her mouth wanting to ask, but Feng Yi had already dressed and gone out. Thinking more carefully, whether he lived or died actually had nothing to do with her. It would be better if he died. So she simply swallowed back all her questions and stopped thinking about it.

In a daze, Hu Sha felt as if she had opened her eyes in a stretch of darkness. Involuntarily, she crawled up from the bed. Her hands and feet completely refused to obey as she floated lightly out of the room.

Outside the door was a black hole, swallowing all light. She couldn’t quite control herself, only feeling her body being sucked into the black hole, as if being pulled by someone, constantly drifting forward, drifting.

Ahead came the fierce howls of demon beasts, wave after wave, like a tide, making one’s hair stand on end.

Hu Sha seemed to suddenly awaken from a confused dream, her feet landing on solid ground as she looked around bewildered.

This place—she had been here before. When she had just been expelled from Qingyuan, she had also had such a dream. In the dream was only a pitch-black boundless wasteland, with thousands upon thousands of demon beasts chasing her, wanting to devour her.

Hu Sha’s heart felt somewhat apprehensive. She hurriedly walked a few steps and suddenly heard the successive howls of demon beasts coming from ahead. As expected, a tide of strangely shaped demon beasts came running wildly toward her, their momentum alarming.

The Eighteen Orioles weren’t at her side. The cloud-riding technique also seemed unable to be used on this strange land. Hu Sha instinctively flicked her wrist, and the Water Glass Zither with its flowing cold light immediately appeared.

The zither’s sound rang out clearly. The ground immediately began to freeze. The tide of demon beasts was instantly frozen in thick layers of ice, unable to move.

Hu Sha wiped the sweat from her forehead. Fortunately she had the Water Glass Zither to protect her, or being bitten to shreds by this group of demon beasts would truly be too ugly. She put the Water Glass Zither away and was about to walk around and look when she suddenly heard wave after wave of demon beast howls coming from the distance again.

Coming again? She instinctively summoned the Water Glass Zither again, gripping it tightly in her hand, waiting for the demon beasts to appear. This time she would hold back no strength and freeze them all.

Suddenly, towering flames shot up not far away, as if about to burn through the very sky. In an instant, heaven and earth became bright, accompanied by the wails of demon beasts—hair-raising.

Hu Sha hurriedly turned around and saw a person vaguely standing in the distant firelight, hair disheveled, clothing in disarray. In his hand he gripped a flute entirely crimson red, bright as the flames behind him.

She was shocked with alarm, staring blankly as that person slowly walked toward her. The thick smoke was blown apart by a strong wind, his full head of disheveled hair also blown up, revealing a face covered with blood-red veins.

No matter what, seeing such a face in the deep of night was enough to make one cold with terror and faint.

“You…” He began to speak in a low voice. Although his expression couldn’t be seen, from his tone one could hear he was as astonished as she was that the other would appear in such a place.

However, the situation didn’t allow them to speak. From all directions came the howls of demon beasts again, as if they could never be killed off.

He quickly turned around, leaving only one sentence: “Protect yourself, don’t die.”

The ground began to shake violently. Immediately after, countless enormous weapons burst from the earth—the Great Mount Tai technique she knew all too well.

Hu Sha struggled to maintain her form amid the violent jolting, dodging everywhere from those endless weapons. Suddenly she heard him call out loudly from ahead, “Time’s about up—you go back first!”

Go back? She couldn’t help but freeze. Immediately after, a white light flashed before her eyes. Her body seemed pulled by something again, involuntarily falling downward.

Hu Sha cried out loudly. Her body suddenly felt light, then as if she’d heavily struck the floor. She abruptly opened her eyes—what met her gaze was precisely that small house by the sea.

Sea breezes blowing gently, ocean waves surging, a quiet night—no different from before she fell asleep.

Yet Hu Sha was covered in cold sweat, her hands and feet seeming drained of strength. She struggled wanting to climb up from the bed but discovered she couldn’t move—right, Feng Yi had placed a restraining spell on her. The time limit hadn’t yet passed.

The candlelight on the bedside table suddenly jumped lightly. Hu Sha’s heart was seized by alarm again without reason. She exerted all her strength to roll her eyes, wanting to see clearly the person beside her.

Feng Yi slept at her side, still not yet awake, his body cold and stiff, without breath.

Only now did she finally understand what his so-called secret from long ago truly was.

He hadn’t truly died, nor was it the backlash of some power. Rather, as long as he fell asleep, his soul would be forcibly separated, going to that wasteland to slaughter a group of demon beasts.

Only today, for some reason, she had also been pulled into that strange place, meeting him in a dream.

Could it be that her soul had also separated?

The young man on the bed suddenly moved, slowly opening his eyes.

He first raised his hand to touch his face, then propped up his body, looking down at Hu Sha’s pale face from above. After a long moment, he revealed a strange smile and said softly, “That old dog still sent you over after all.”

Hu Sha silently looked at him, as if only now truly, for the first time, properly examining him.

Still that picturesque face. When not smiling, it still carried three parts of a smile. When truly smiling, it made one’s heart turn cold. The corners of his lips slightly hooked upward, creating an illusion that he was very gentle. If one looked carefully, his eyes held only callousness and mockery.

And now, she finally saw it—the exhaustion and distortion hidden behind that callousness.

Feng Yi felt somewhat uncomfortable being looked at by her. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something wrong with my face?”

Hu Sha looked at him for a while longer before saying in a low voice, “You… have always been like this? Unable to sleep at night, every night going to that place to slaughter demon beasts? How long has this situation lasted? Why didn’t you tell Master?”

Feng Yi withdrew his smile, his face expressionless as he got out of bed, saying coldly, “Why ask these things? Why should I tell Fang Zhun? What could he help with?”

Hu Sha stared at him fixedly and said softly, “Then why didn’t you tell me? It was Qingling Zhenjun’s doing, wasn’t it? Since you and I are both pulled here by him, you should have told me about this matter.”

Feng Yi laughed coldly. “What use would telling you be? Can you help slaughter demon beasts, or can you prevent the nightly soul separation? You, this kind of naive little girl, your head is full of only romantic feelings between men and women. Even if I told you, would you take it to heart?”

Hu Sha wasn’t provoked to anger. She only said flatly, “Then tell me now what’s going on. Please speak for me to hear.”

Feng Yi shook his head, turned and walked to the doorway, pushing the door open. The ice-cold sea wind rushed in all at once, blowing the bed curtains so they swayed and flew.

“There’s nothing good to say. It’s just that now you’ve also fallen to the same fate as me. Everyone suffering misfortune together—my heart feels more comfortable than before.”

Seeing him about to leave, Hu Sha couldn’t help but call urgently, “Second Senior Brother!”

She instinctively called out those three words. Having called them, she felt a bit regretful. How could he still count as her Second Senior Brother?

Feng Yi turned back to smile at her mockingly and said, “Now trying to get familiar with me—isn’t it too late?”

Hu Sha pressed her lips together, a trace of anger in her eyes.

Feng Yi looked at her and suddenly sighed, saying, “Disobedient mortals naturally must be punished. I entered Qingyuan to take a master at seventeen, only enjoyed a brief ten years of happiness. Hu Sha, at that time I was the same as you, completely unguarded against everything, thinking Master was heaven and could protect me for life. Yet who in this world can truly take care of another for an entire lifetime? Forty-five years… I’ve already gone forty-five years without sleeping peacefully through a single night. What that taste is like, you’ll soon experience it too. Then we’ll see if you can still speak such pretty words.”

He stepped out, remarking as he went, “Hu Sha, remember well what dreaming feels like, because you’ll never experience it again.”

The ice-cold sea wind brushed across her face. She couldn’t help but shiver. Thinking of him saying forty-five years unable to sleep, even forgetting what dreaming was like, her heart somehow didn’t know what to feel.

The sky was still dark, the night still deep, yet she no longer dared close her eyes. She feared that as soon as she closed them, she would return to that wasteland, alone slaughtering that group of never-ending demon beasts.

There was such a moment—utterly exhausted yet unable to sleep—she could only bite her lips hard with her teeth, using severe pain to chase away drowsiness. She suddenly generated an inexplicable anger, not knowing what she was angry about.

Thinking of Feng Yi’s various detestable and mad behavior, she truly wished she could have him die by her own hand. Thinking again of the exhaustion in his eyes made her feel extremely uncomfortable.

The afternoon sunlight was excellent, spilling on the table before the window, warm and cozy.

Feng Yi leaned by the window reading, his wide sleeves dragging all the way to the ground. Since that night, he had become the unhurried one. He seemed no longer anxious about the Water Glass Zither, yet also seemed determined to obtain this thing. All day leisurely and carefree—the one unable to endure wasn’t him, but her.

Hu Sha was already so tired she was about to hallucinate, her eyes red as a rabbit’s.

Ten days now. As long as she inadvertently closed her eyes to doze, the next moment she would be standing on the wasteland slaughtering a group of demon beasts. After killing so long, she had gone numb. Even returning to reality, she felt that bloody scent lingering all around her.

Exhaustion was like a heavy burden, piling heavier and heavier, pressing until she couldn’t breathe.

This wasn’t just physical, but also extreme mental torture.

She felt all her spirit, all her weight pressed on one string in her brain, precariously balanced. Even the slightest stimulus gave her the urge to go mad.

Feng Yi suddenly closed his book and turned back with a smile. “Hu Sha, do you still remember when you first went to Qingyuan? You liked to hide alone in the apricot grove singing. What was that song you sang most often called? It sounded quite nice. Won’t you sing it again for me now?”

He was deliberate, deliberately provoking her.

Hu Sha couldn’t restrain her irritable temper. From somewhere she generated a surge of strength, viciously hurling the pillow at him and shouting sternly, “Go die! Quickly go die! Why haven’t you died yet?”

Because she hadn’t slept, the pillow couldn’t be thrown far at all. With a soft thud it fell to the ground. Feng Yi acted as if he hadn’t seen her go mad, tilting his head still reminiscing: “I remember the lyrics had something about being full of the sorrow of parting, wondering where old friends are. It sounds familiar—whose poem is it?”

Hu Sha felt that string in her brain could hold on no longer. With a snap it broke. She painfully clutched her head, trembling all over, saying in a sobbing voice, “I can’t do it anymore… I can’t endure anymore… I need to sleep for a while, just sleep for a while…”