I spent two days at the inn washing my face with tears.

Of course, when tired from crying I would rest, when rested and hungry I would eat, and when full I would sleep. The so-called “washing face with tears” utilized time outside of normal routines.

However, this absolutely didn’t mean I wasn’t sad enough. In fact, that night I was truly grief-stricken to the point of despair—in a moment of desperation, I closed the door, untied my sash, and hanged myself from the beam.

Then I brought down the entire roof beam.

Despite my earnest efforts to blame the incident on the poor quality of the wooden beam, the innkeeper still made me pay three taels of silver in compensation. He clearly believed the main issue was that I was too heavy.

My heart ached terribly, so I simply threw caution to the wind and spent my silver lavishly on delicious food.

Since I was going to die anyway, I might as well be a well-fed ghost.

Who knew that while this inn wasn’t very sturdy, the cuisine was excellent. Eating and eating, I actually forgot about meeting the King of Hell. By the time I remembered, I had roughly passed through the despair phase, and my sanity gradually returned to normal.

I couldn’t help but reflect on why I always impulsively tried to kill myself. Although I couldn’t remember why I had jumped off the cliff the year before, quietly hanging myself at an inn was definitely a foolish act.

Death should be weightier than Mount Tai—an overly low-key method of dying has no meaning in life whatsoever.

I pondered staging a magnificent sacrifice, such as hanging myself at the mansion where the Nie and Zhao families would hold their wedding banquet.

Thinking of this, I again washed my face with tears.

I missed Xu Fang so much, thinking about how to die for him, yet he was going to marry another woman.

A year ago their wedding had an accident, and a year later they would renew their matrimonial bond. Perhaps that year’s blank space didn’t matter to him, but for me, it was the entirety of my memory, full to bursting.

I felt I couldn’t just sit and wait for death—I should muster courage to disrupt the wedding. Admittedly, sitting in the inn wouldn’t get me killed, but going to disrupt the wedding would likely fulfill my long-cherished wish for a heroic sacrifice.

First, I had no invitation and couldn’t walk in openly. Second, I had no martial arts skills and couldn’t break in unobstructed. Finally, the Nie Mansion’s walls were really quite high—if I climbed up with a ladder and jumped down, that would be dying before accomplishing my mission.

After much consideration, I abandoned this overly radical idea, thinking it would be more prudent to arrange to meet Xu Fang and have a proper talk.

How to arrange to meet him was another major problem. If I had sufficient time, I might consider persistent pestering or round-the-clock stalking to gradually work toward my goal, but unfortunately, they were to marry the day after tomorrow.

I wrote two letters.

While Zhao Yanran was shopping for fabric, I used candied hawthorn to bribe a passerby child, Luren Jia, and had him deliver one letter to her.

Usually in such situations, after reading the letter, Zhao Yanran would ask, “Little brother, who gave this to you?” and the child would immediately shake his head saying he didn’t know and run away—that would be logical. Who knew she would just glance at the envelope and smile with flushed cheeks, rewarding the little brother with an ingot of silver, which I found quite horrifying.

Fortunately, after opening the letter, her expression changed dramatically. She looked around in alarm and finally lifted her skirt and hurried away.

Now that was a normal person’s reaction.

I emerged from the blind spot carrying my bundle, leisurely wandered around the street a couple of times, and when I reached the Nie Mansion entrance, I handed the other letter to the door guards while conveniently giving them the silver I had snatched from the little brother, then went contentedly to keep my appointment.

The meeting place was a bamboo grove on the city outskirts, and the meeting partner was Zhao Yanran.

I arranged to meet her not because I had transferred my affections after being abandoned by Xu Fang—even if I truly wanted to transfer my affections, I wouldn’t transfer them to her, though I had to admit she was quite a beauty.

The beauty was now standing alone among the bamboo grove, her delicate, gentle figure trembling in the wind, appearing fragile and weak. I approached her silently and said warmly, “Miss Zhao is wearing so little—be careful not to catch cold.”

Seeing it was me, Zhao Yanran stepped back twice: “You… why are you only just arriving?”

She was probably annoyed that I wasn’t punctual enough. I said apologetically, “I was delayed by something on the road—thank you for waiting so long, Miss Zhao.”

She began looking around anxiously again, and only after confirming that only the two of us were present did she pull out the letter I had given her from her sleeve, asking through gritted teeth, “Why did you write this letter in Ran Gege’s handwriting?”

I was stunned. No wonder she had shown that expression when seeing the letter—she must have thought it was a love letter from her Ran Gege. I smiled: “I was once intimate with him, so naturally I can write in his hand. What’s so strange about that?”

Zhao Yanran glared at me frantically: “Even if you say that, he won’t believe you.”

“Since Miss Zhao came, you’re worried that the truth will come out,” I shrugged indifferently. “If you’re not afraid, then why do we need to talk?”

She hesitated for a moment, then took out a stack of banknotes from inside her clothes and stuffed them at me: “One thousand taels, not a penny less. Where are the items?”

I was momentarily speechless, unable to help but wonder if this young lady was too naive—she didn’t even understand the principle of “money and goods exchange hands simultaneously.” I took down my bundle, glanced behind her, and asked cautiously, “I wonder what Miss Zhao’s martial arts skills are like?”

Zhao Yanran slowly turned her head following my gaze, saying somewhat fearfully, “I… I don’t know martial arts. What’s wrong?”

I breathed a sigh of relief and calmly pulled out a hemp rope from my bundle: “That’s good then.”

Zhao Yanran stared at the hemp rope with her mouth agape, stammering, “Wh-what are you going to do?!”

I said, “Don’t worry, I don’t know martial arts either…”

She also sighed in relief.

But I wasn’t finished speaking: “However, I’m quite strong and should be able to beat you.”

Zhao Yanran: “…”

After I had her thoroughly trussed up like a dumpling, she finally tired of cursing: “If I lose a single hair, Ran Gege will never let you go.”

I bent down and plucked one of her hairs: “Why don’t we show this strand to your Ran Gege and let him feel heartbroken?”

She had probably never encountered a kidnapper like me. After choking for a long while, her delicate appearance was truly pitiable. I sighed: “I won’t harm you—I just have some things I want to say to him face to face.” After a pause, “Actually, you know about me, don’t you? You should also know why he… forgot about me.”

She silently turned her head away without answering, seeming to be sad. I thought I could guess why she was sad, but really didn’t want to think about it.

When Xu Fang arrived, it was exactly when the moon was setting. Upon seeing us, those pitch-black eyes brewed with deep anger: “Who exactly are you?!”

I was stunned for a long while before realizing he was talking to me. Earlier, finding Zhao Yanran too noisy, I had already gagged her mouth with a cloth. Looking at the scene now, it truly appeared to be a hostage situation. I simply revealed the dagger from my sleeve and pressed it against her neck: “Take one more step closer, and don’t blame me if the blade has no eyes.”

He looked at me coldly and ultimately stepped back: “What is your purpose?”

No purpose—I just want to have a proper conversation with you, Xu Fang.

I didn’t say this, but instead threw the letter I had written to Zhao Yanran at him: “Do you know why she came? Because I told her I had evidence of your life in Chen Family Village this past year, along with a notice from the day Marquis Xia Yang searched for you. I would exchange these things for one thousand taels in banknotes from her.” I scattered the banknotes before him. “Look, she actually gave them to me.”

Xu Fang frowned as he looked at the letter and notice: “You…”

“My purpose is to tell you the truth. Although I don’t know why you forgot this past year’s events overnight, I… don’t want you to marry her in such confusion without understanding the truth.”

Zhao Yanran wanted to shake her head helplessly, but feared being injured by the dagger, so she could only open her tearful eyes and whimper pitifully.

After a long while, Xu Fang put down the letter, his voice emotionless: “What exactly does Miss want to tell me? Tell me that I became a different person this past year? But what does that have to do with my marrying her?”

I said incredulously, “Are you… not curious about what happened this past year? How do you know that after experiencing those things, you would still… be willing to marry her?”

Under the hazy moonlight, Xu Fang stared at me unblinkingly: “Could it be that Miss is saying I changed my heart during this past year?”

My heart tightened.

He said, “I originally made a vow of eternal love with Yanran. If what Miss says is true, wouldn’t that make me a heartless man? Since Heaven made me forget this period of memory, why should I persist in remembering? With Yanran’s unwavering devotion, I should treat her wholeheartedly even more, shouldn’t I?”

Shouldn’t I?

I saw Zhao Yanran weeping.

It turned out I had been wrong from the very beginning. That day, this pair of star-crossed lovers was forced apart, and I took advantage of the situation. Now, just as they were about to finally become a couple, it was again me causing trouble and disruption.

I pressed my lips tightly together, restraining myself from crying aloud. Xu Fang stared intently at my hand holding the dagger: “Still won’t release her?”

I didn’t let go. I was still… unwilling to accept this. But what could I do?

That day, Xu Fang had instructed me not to leave dejectedly. Now, besides leaving, what else could I do?

I couldn’t even properly say goodbye to him.

I removed the jade flute from my waist and looked at him: “Could you play a piece of music for me?”

He said coldly, “What other tricks are you planning?”

I threw the jade flute at his feet and said, “That piece is called ‘Xu Feng He Yue’ (Gentle Breeze and Moon). After you finish playing, I’ll release Miss Zhao.”

He said, “I’ve never heard of that name.”

Yes, ‘Xu Feng He Yue’—this was a tune Xu Fang had composed for He Feng. He had already forgotten Xu Fang, so how could he remember?

He had once said that if he changed his heart, I should use the jade flute to hit his head hard.

But I ultimately couldn’t bear to do so, only saying, “Then I’ll sing a line, and you play a line—is that acceptable?”

He didn’t refuse. To protect his Yanran, how dare he refuse?

In the bamboo grove under moonlight, a woman hummed softly while a man played the flute—such a beautiful scene, just like those days when He Feng and Xu Fang were still in the countryside.

The melody he played, the way he held the flute, that composed and serene posture—he was the Xu Fang I loved most.

But all of this was false, stolen by me.

I suddenly couldn’t continue singing, and the flute music stopped abruptly. Xu Fang maintained his flute-holding posture, his calm expression suddenly stirring: “Miss… do you harbor feelings for me?”

I was startled.

He looked at me intently, his brow showing traces of an expression I recognized: “Feelings for me from this past year?”

I trembled in bewilderment: “Have you… remembered something?”

Just as I stepped forward half a pace wanting to approach him, a black shadow swept past carrying wind. My shoulder took a solid blow, and in that instant I seemed to hear something shatter. Xu Fang was already holding Zhao Yanran several steps away from me.

Wild grass swayed in the wind as I tumbled among it, covering my heart in confusion, wondering why this palm had clearly struck my shoulder, yet here it hurt so heartbreakingly.

Xu Fang untied the bonds on Zhao Yanran, and after confirming she wasn’t injured, he said to me, “Do you know what crime it is to kidnap the Prime Minister’s daughter?”

I didn’t answer. Whatever crime it was didn’t matter anymore.

After a long while, he said, “You may go.”

Zhao Yanran opened her mouth in surprise: “Ran Gege, how can you just let her go like this?”

He didn’t answer her, and said to me once more: “You may go.”

I still couldn’t manage to leave.

The next moment, brilliant white lights appeared before my eyes.

In an instant of bewilderment, many black-clothed men with knives had suddenly appeared around us. Their target was Xu Fang. This group of black-clothed men was well-trained, their long blade shadows moving with controlled precision. Even though Xu Fang’s skills were considerable, he had to protect Zhao Yanran while fighting, naturally falling behind everywhere.

Perhaps because they had seen Xu Fang attack me earlier, they considered Zhao Yanran to have more threatening value and ignored me sitting on the ground, pressing their attacks toward her. If I seized this opportunity to escape, probably no one would spare the attention to pursue me.

Unfortunately, I acted foolishly once again.

When one of the black-clothed men with a ferocious scar over his eyebrow aimed his sleeve arrow at Xu Fang, I instinctively threw myself forward to block it, and then… successfully blocked it.

Usually at such moments, the plot development would be me collapsing against his back, him turning around in shock to support me: “Why did you do this…” “Because I like you…” “You… why put yourself through this…” “Don’t feel guilty, live well with Miss Zhao from now on, grow old together…” “No! He Feng! I remember everything now, don’t leave…” Then I would die contentedly in his arms.

However, drama is like life, but life is not like drama.

Just as I felt the sharp blade pierce through my back, Xu Fang desperately swept forward, holding Zhao Yanran as they hurriedly dodged through a flurry of blade lights and sword shadows.

He didn’t notice at all that I had blocked an arrow for him—his heart and mind were still entirely focused on Zhao Yanran.

I didn’t know if that arrow had pierced a hole through my back. When the sharp, intense pain spread throughout my body, the physical pain was far less than the pain in my heart.

What a pity I couldn’t die in that instant.

The black-clothed man couldn’t believe there was such a fool in this world who would block arrows for others, and especially one who was ignored after blocking it. He probably also felt that someone like me was already without will to live, so he swung his blade at me intending to end my life. Who knew there would be a clang—Xu Fang had blocked it.

He didn’t know I had taken an arrow: “You all, leave quickly!”

I was already in too much pain to speak, and Zhao Yanran’s legs had gone soft from fear—how could we leave?

The black-clothed men surged forward like a rising tide. Xu Fang hacked and slashed while saying, “Go!”

Seeing his anxious expression, I found strength from somewhere, wiped the thin stream of fresh blood from the corner of my mouth, struggled to support myself, grabbed Zhao Yanran, and dragged her toward the cliff direction.

I thought I must be crazy—I couldn’t even protect myself, so why manage her affairs? Yet I didn’t feel completely mad, at least I could still remember that below the mountain cliff was a stretch of river that might offer another chance at survival.

The pain in my back spread rapidly. I struggled forward step by step, not knowing if I would collapse and die in the next moment, when I suddenly heard Zhao Yanran ask in a thread-like voice, “Why… did you block that arrow for him?”

Her lips were pale as death: “He clearly doesn’t remember you anymore.”

I turned my head away, climbing all the way to the cliff edge. Only when I looked back and saw Xu Fang also retreating step by step in this direction did I whisper to Zhao Yanran, “He will remember me someday. Just thinking this makes me feel very happy.” My throat choked up. “Jump down. His swimming is excellent—he’ll definitely save you.”

As I spun and fell from the cliff, I heard Xu Fang crying out Zhao Yanran’s name.

I closed my eyes and prayed to Heaven—let it end here.

I don’t know how long I floated in the icy water before I heard a familiar voice: “Hold tight!”

Suspecting I was having auditory hallucinations, I struggled to lift my head and open my eyes, and actually saw Xu Fang.

I was overjoyed, thinking that even dying now would be worthwhile, but in a moment of distraction I saw Zhao Yanran tightly embraced in his arms.

“Hold tight”—he wasn’t speaking to me, but to Zhao Yanran.

He said again, “Don’t be afraid, I’ll be with you, Yanran.”

“Don’t be afraid, I’ll be with you, He Feng.”

The exact same voice, the exact same words, echoing in my ears, echoing in my heart.

Zhao Yanran tightly grasped my sleeve and said to Xu Fang, “She… she was hit by an arrow…”

“Oh?” Only then did Xu Fang turn to look at me, his pitch-black eyes ice-cold. “Knowing your life was in danger, Miss wanted to drag Yanran down with you? What a truly venomous heart!”

Venomous heart? What was Xu Fang… saying?

Suddenly feeling the surging impact of river waves, Xu Fang gripped the cliff rock tightly, struggling greatly as he shouted to Zhao Yanran, “The current is too strong—if you don’t let go of her, we’ll all die—”

Zhao Yanran could barely hold onto me: “Ran Gege, we can’t just watch someone die…”

My wrist suddenly tightened. At this critical moment, Xu Fang gripped me, his expression cruel: “I’m saving you for Yanran’s sake.”

Mountain shadows fell in chaos, water mist blurred everything before my eyes. I suppose if he could see, he would think this was tears of gratitude.

By now, I finally understood why Heaven had delayed letting me breathe my last—it was to make me see clearly and completely shatter my dreams.

Life flowed away uncontrollably inch by inch, past events like an endlessly turning lantern wheel, appearing and disappearing.

I felt like a dead fish hooked tight, no matter how hard I tried to lift my head, no matter how desperately I kept my eyes open, I could never overlap those two figures again.

I slowly freed one hand, but didn’t reach toward him. Instead, I twisted it to my back and gripped the arrow shaft with all my strength. Blood slid down through my fingers. The tighter I gripped, the harder, until suddenly I mustered all my remaining strength to pull it out. Perhaps because the movement was too great, or perhaps because this action brought out blood traces, Xu Fang’s entire body froze: “You—”

I ultimately didn’t dare tell him this arrow was blocked for his sake. I feared he would mock me, this venomous woman, for lying through my teeth. Such words—just one sentence would be enough to reduce me to ashes.

Tears burst from my eyes, blurring my vision. Zhao Yanran’s voice came through the wind, but I couldn’t make out a single word. Actually, I was very afraid of death. Though I often acted recklessly without regard for life and death, that was because I thought Xu Fang would always stay by my side.

I heard myself say softly, “Young Master Nie, earlier you asked if I harbored feelings for you. Now, I’ll tell you.”

“No.”

“The person I like is called Xu Fang.”

The moment the arrow tip pierced the arm he used to pull me, just as giant waves struck, that heavy something in my heart seemed to vanish into smoke in an instant.

This suicide attempt shouldn’t fail again, should it?

How wonderful—this way, I can go find Xu Fang.

That Xu Fang who would ache terribly when He Feng was pricked by a needle, that Xu Fang who was the kindest, most wonderful person to He Feng in this world.

Author’s Note:

Two chapters in one go! Shining brightly, right?

I think everyone must be used to every author saying in their author’s notes during the early publication period: Please leave lots of comments~ Please bookmark lots~

I really want to break away from convention, but… TT following the trend!

Anyway, the ultimate purpose of publishing online is to read comments—this is also my only motivation~~ mua!