Chapter Twenty-Four: In the Misty Orchid Courtyard, Recalling an Encounter with a Former Love

“Although I never quite agreed with your actions before, after hearing your story, I suddenly feel that you weren’t wrong. Truly, if your heart already belongs to someone else, you shouldn’t waste another girl’s time. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you. Thinking back, I realize how foolish and impulsive I once was, always pushing you to accept her. Now it seems I was the one trying to throw her into the fire.” Yu Xiaoran spoke with a trace of self-mockery.

“Since everything has been laid bare, I’ll take this opportunity to settle the feelings between us.” With that, Yan Xuesu turned her gaze to Yu Xiaoran and continued, “What are your feelings for me? And what about for Lanwu? I don’t want to linger in this confusion any longer!”

“My feelings for Lanwu are those of a brother. Yes, I care for her deeply, but it’s because I see her as a sister, so I’m protective and affectionate. As for you, I can’t quite explain it. It’s a complicated feeling I can’t put into words.” Yu Xiaoran’s expression was tangled; in truth, ever since Yan Xuesu had said those inexplicable words to him, his heart had been in turmoil.

“You’re just avoiding the issue. If you like me, you like me. If you don’t, you don’t. Why do you keep making excuses? I’m not asking you to take responsibility for anything, I just don’t want to remain entangled in this ambiguous haze. If I don’t exist in your heart, I’ll let go of these feelings. I won’t let it affect our friendship.” Yan Xuesu’s eyes dimmed; she rarely looked so sorrowful. Her seemingly fragile shoulders and helpless silhouette stirred deep pity. Yu Shang and Leng Huaiyi had quietly withdrawn as soon as the conversation began, knowing some matters were best left to those involved to avoid future awkwardness.

“Can you give me some time to truly get along with you? You know, many say I’m a rake, always lingering among women, but no one has ever truly captured my heart. I can’t promise you anything, but I hope we can give it a try. Whatever comes of it, at least there’ll be no regrets.” Yu Xiaoran spoke with sincerity. The maturity in his features marked a change; from this moment, he was no longer the idle youth drifting between wine and women, but a man determined to cherish and protect the woman he loved.

“Yes!” Yan Xuesu nodded fiercely and threw herself into Yu Xiaoran’s arms, sobbing in the embrace she had longed for so many years. In that moment, she asked for no eternity, hoped for no future—she only wished that time would stop, if only for this heartbeat. She was content; his willingness to take her seriously was enough. Who could say what the future held? Cherishing the present was all that mattered, so she would not regret it later.

Yu Shang and Leng Huaiyi strolled through the bamboo grove, where verdant leaves floated lightly on slender stalks like waves of jade, mesmerizing as they drifted one after another. The fresh fragrance of bamboo soothed their restless hearts. Suddenly, a melody, hauntingly familiar, drifted toward them. Compelled by the sound, they followed it, passing through winding paths and over a white bridge, and before they knew it, found themselves by the waterfall lake.

At the center of the pavilion sat a lone figure playing a guqin. Mist veiled her features, but from her form, it was clear she was a woman. Her music was at times crisp and at times melodious, like pearls falling onto jade plates, or rain beating against stone. Every note betrayed her grievances against the world, her resentment toward someone. Sorrow, lament, and melancholy filled the air, echoing ceaselessly in their ears.

“Let’s go,” Leng Huaiyi said quietly, eager to escape. Yu Shang, seeing the situation, nodded in understanding and made to leave with him.

“Why leave before the song is over? Are you so unwilling to see me?” The woman’s voice was laced with bitterness, but beneath it lingered love that the years had not erased.

She rose, leapt into the air, and landed before Leng Huaiyi and Yu Shang, blocking their path. She was beautiful, with the grace of a lotus—pure, untouched by worldly dust. A cold pride kept others at a distance, while her bearing radiated otherworldly nobility. She was like a celestial maiden, holy and unapproachable. Her cold eyes were like icicles piercing the soul, thawed only by passionate blood—yet in doing so, one risked becoming cold-hearted oneself. One might wish to change her, but instead, she changed them. She gave the impression of a heart closed forever, her love vanished with the past, never to return.

Leng Huaiyi bowed and greeted her, “Greetings, Martial Aunt.” His face was unreadable, but Yu Shang knew his heart must ache as if cut by knives, forced to stand before the woman he least wished to acknowledge, calling her by the title he most despised.

“Martial Aunt? How amusing!” The woman laughed bitterly, her laughter filled with pain and helplessness. It was this very title that had torn them apart, that had shuttered her loving heart once again. She hated those words as much as she hated the man who had left her without a word.

Her laughter ceased; with a flick of her hand, she struck Leng Huaiyi, making him stagger back. Even if he had expected the blow, he would not have resisted—he owed her too much. He could never cast everything aside and take her away. He lacked the courage, fearing harm would come to the academy or to her.

“Is this your penance?” she demanded, gathering her inner power to hurl the lake’s water at him. Leng Huaiyi stood unmoving, not even attempting to dodge. Yu Shang, worried, almost stepped forward, but hesitated. After all, this was a private matter, and outsiders shouldn’t interfere. Besides, he trusted Leng Huaiyi not to risk his life, and the woman, for all her anger, would not truly harm him.

Sure enough, seeing him refuse to fight back, she pulled back her energy at the last moment, instead unleashing its force on the lake, sending water spraying high into the air.

She glared at him, shouting, “Why won’t you fight back? Do you really think I can’t bear to kill you?” She seized him by the collar, forcing him to meet her gaze.

“Though I’ve left the academy, I was once a disciple. How could a disciple raise his hand against a senior? I would never commit such an outrageous act.” Leng Huaiyi steadied his heart and spoke with deliberate coldness.

“And when you stole my heart, how do you account for that? If that were a crime, you would have been torn to pieces years ago!” she cried in anguish. Clearly, she could not let him go, just as he had never let her go. Seeing her in such pain, he longed to embrace her and never let her go. But reason forbade it—their statuses were too different, and for the sake of the academy, for her sake, he could not be so selfish. So he buried his love deep within.

“Let the past be carried away by the wind. If you truly think I owe you, then do as you wish—kill me if you must!” His voice was devoid of emotion, as if the woman before him meant nothing at all.

“Let’s go,” Yu Shang urged, truly worried that something might happen if Leng Huaiyi stayed any longer. He quickly pulled him away, and the old man lurking in the shadows sighed and departed, leaving the woman alone by the lake, lost in sorrow.

“You didn’t have to let things end so bitterly between you and her. After all, there is still a place for each other in your hearts. Wouldn’t it be better to leave each other with a beautiful, untarnished memory? Why insist on playing the heartless man and wounding her a second time?” Yu Shang couldn’t help but ask, pained by his friend’s suffering.

“Didn’t you notice our master watching us from the shadows? If I didn’t act this way, how could he rest easy, and how could Shuang’er let go? No matter how much she hates me now, it’s better than her never moving on from who I once was. I know well the pain of longing. I don’t want her to live like that anymore. If you were me, you’d do the same. We all have unforgettable, yet fleeting, loves with no lasting result.” Leng Huaiyi spoke slowly, sorrow saturating every word.

“You seem quite familiar with my past,” Yu Shang replied with a wry smile.

“I know a little. Truly, you shouldn’t blame yourself. That matter was never your fault.” Leng Huaiyi, surprisingly, comforted Yu Shang instead.

“Heh, you’re right. What could escape the eyes and ears of Youming Pavilion? Especially an affair that shook the entire Netherworld!” Yu Shang muttered in a daze. “Enough, you needn’t worry about me. Do I really look like someone who can’t let go?”

“It was just a friendly reminder. I can hardly manage my own troubles, let alone meddle in others’ affairs,” Leng Huaiyi said with self-mockery.

“Why does it feel like we met too late in life?” Yu Shang smiled faintly, looking at his companion, a fellow traveler on the road of sorrow.

“I feel the same,” Leng Huaiyi replied with an identical smile. Perhaps this was the unique bond between those who shared the same fate—a bond that, to outsiders, seemed so desolate.

Late at night, unable to sleep, Yu Shang stepped outside to clear his mind. Lifting his gaze to the dark sky, he suddenly wondered what lay beyond it—could it be a pure and flawless world? A place without war or smoke, tranquil and serene, where people lived in harmony and joy, untouched by intrigue or betrayal. A world where all was beautiful and nothing repulsive, unlike the present. The glittering stars, like white crystals suspended above, might be doors half-open, inviting those who longed to seek such a place. And the new moon, shining like a mirror, cast a gauzy light, as if building a glowing bridge across the heavens to welcome heroes home.