Chapter Seventy-Four: Sacrifice for Love, Unwavering Resolve

“Yuanyuan, are you all right?” As Lan Bingxian, bewildered, finally came to his senses, he hurried over to Meng Youyuan, who had narrowly escaped disaster, anxiously looking her over. “You foolish girl, why did you use your own body to shield me from that deadly poisonous seawater? If something truly happened to you because of this, do you expect me to linger alone in this world, barely surviving?” Everything had happened so suddenly; he hadn’t had the chance to react at all. Had that phantom woman, transformed from the pearl, not managed to defeat the seawater in time, he would never have seen his beloved again. He was angry at himself for being so useless—how could a mere expanse of ocean so unnerve him? In the end, he had almost indirectly caused the death of the one he loved most. Fortunately, she was unharmed now; otherwise, he would never forgive himself.

“Don’t worry so much—your brows are practically knotted together. I’m perfectly fine!” Meng Youyuan, seeing her brother Xian so nervous, spun in place to show she really was unharmed, then smiled contentedly. Even she didn’t quite understand herself; in a moment’s impulse, she’d become so resolute, so courageous. She hadn’t thought about the consequences, only had a simple wish: that those she cared for would be safe. Nothing else mattered, not even if she had to exchange her own life for his peace. She would gladly do it.

“Yuanyuan, you nearly scared us to death just now! I even had a terrible thought—that when the tide receded, I’d never see you again!” Lan Wu clutched Meng Youyuan’s sleeve, speaking in panic. After that accident, her heart wouldn’t calm anytime soon. Yet she also admired Yuanyuan’s courage: in such danger, she hadn’t hesitated to rush forward for her beloved. Though she herself loved Xiaoyin deeply, as if she couldn’t live without him, if the roles were reversed, she wasn’t sure she could be as selfless as Yuanyuan. Not that she didn’t love Xiaoyin, but she loved herself more.

“Lan Wu, don’t be like this. I know you worry about me, but I’m standing before you without a scratch, aren’t I? Stop frowning—your beautiful face is all twisted now. Smile for me!” Meng Youyuan comforted her, knowing her sister’s fiery exterior hid a tender heart easily moved to tears. Still, she was happy—besides brother Xian, someone else cared so deeply, unwilling to see her harmed.

“Yuanyuan, I understand why you did it, but I can’t agree with you. You couldn’t bear to see your beloved perish in poisonous waters, but think: is there anyone here who would want to watch you fall, hurt, or even lose your life?” Yan Xuesu spoke gently. She understood that reckless sacrifice, and perhaps would make the same choice. But she couldn’t bear to lose a confidante without warning. Maybe it was selfish—why should you be allowed to sacrifice for love, but others not? Perhaps she was simply afraid of loss, preferring others lose her than to experience that pain again herself.

“I knew you’d understand me best—and object most strongly. But that’s not important; as long as we know each other’s hearts, it’s enough.” Meng Youyuan patted Yan Xuesu’s shoulder softly. Among the group, they were most alike in love, most attuned to these feelings. Perhaps that was what made them soulmates: you understand, but don’t approve, because you know the consequences better than I do. And yet, if it were you, you’d do the same.

“Meng Youyuan, I must tell you seriously: I won’t allow you to neglect yourself, to be hurt in any way, nor to risk your life for me. If I lost you in my world, what meaning would there be in clinging to life?” Lan Bingxian was truly afraid now—afraid Yuanyuan would vanish from his sight, afraid he’d never see her again. He wanted, just this once, to be selfish. If one of them had to disappear, he hoped it would be himself, so he wouldn’t have to endure the agony of living on memories.

“But just the same, I don’t want you to be harmed. If I see you hurt, even a little, my heart aches with you. I only want to see you whole and unharmed, even if it means sacrificing my own life. If you leave this world first, I’ll follow you, never letting you walk alone. But if, unfortunately, I must go first, you must live well—destroy any thoughts of despair, forget me after I’m gone.” Meng Youyuan spoke with resolve. For reasons unknown, she sensed she might leave him soon. If fate decreed they couldn’t escape this doom, she only wished her beloved brother Xian would forget her and live his life fully.

“I cannot!” Lan Bingxian felt as if her words were a farewell, as though she’d truly leave him soon. Though he didn’t know what was happening, he would never allow anyone to take her away, not even Death itself.

“I believe you will, for my sake—you must.” Meng Youyuan raised her hand, gently caressing his handsome face, her eyes full of longing and love. Unless forced, she would never leave him; she couldn’t bear to see him sorrowful. She hoped her premonition wouldn’t come true, that she could stay by his side for a lifetime. She didn’t want him to finish his journey alone, burdened by unbearable grief.

“You truly are cut from the same mold as your mother—not only your looks and manner, but even your selfless devotion and courageous sacrifice. I once thought you were a timid girl who hesitated at every step, but you possess a resilience even I lack. I must reconsider my opinion of you. You and this pearl are well-matched—both full of unexpected surprises.” Xun Mishuang regarded her with fresh admiration, no longer seeing her as a selfish girl who ignored others’ silent sacrifices.

Xun Mishuang wondered herself: if she’d possessed such courage years ago, would things be different now? If she’d dared to leave the Orchid Academy to pursue the one she loved, would they now be living a blissful life envied by all? Sadly, she realized too late—the moment she gave up, everything was set in stone. Her pride had cost her the chance to turn back.

“Am I really so much like her, in both form and spirit? Perhaps I understand now why she left me, to return to that other world with the man she loved.” Meng Youyuan spoke softly. To fulfill love, one must truly relinquish some things—even if it means being the one left behind.

“You are very much alike, especially in your stubborn nature. I had some dealings with her; at the time, I didn’t understand the sacrifices she made for love, but now I see she was the one who understood love best.” Xun Mishuang recalled her own childhood, and the words Meng Youyuan’s mother had spoken to her in drunkenness—a meaning she only now comprehended.

“Shuang’er, you met Master’s daughter? How is that possible...” Leng Huaiyi exclaimed in surprise, clearly unconvinced.

“That’s our secret—I won’t tell anyone, not even you. So don’t ask again.” Xun Mishuang replied playfully. It was indeed a beautiful secret.

“All right.” Leng Huaiyi, always understanding, never pressed others. Yet he didn’t realize this was his own greatest hardship.

“I don’t know why you understand her so well. All I know is my grandfather’s resentment toward her, and the debt she owes me.” Meng Youyuan spoke sadly, unable to forget her grandfather’s bitter expression when telling their parents’ story, the hatred etched deep in his bones. She also couldn’t forget their abandonment—if they gave her life, why did they abandon her so cruelly?

“I don’t care what others think of your parents’ union. In my eyes, they were brave. Though they lost many precious things in pursuit of love, they gained each other, living peacefully together—that’s worth it.” Xun Mishuang looked up at the sky, her longing clear.

“All right, let’s not discuss this anymore. Weren’t you all questioning something earlier? Let me, the one involved, answer you: If what happened to me had happened to you, I believe you would save your beloved just as I did—without hesitation, fear, or doubt. I’m sure your love for your partner is no less than mine!” Meng Youyuan sidestepped the topic of her parents, returning to the previous question with a smile. You may think yourself lacking in courage, but when you have someone you truly want to protect and accompany, you’ll find yourself braver and stronger than you ever imagined.

“In truth, what happened just now was not a bad thing,” Yu Shang, silent until now, suddenly spoke, his gaze fixed on the phantom woman.

“Brother Yu, why do you say that?” Yin Boxuan gently asked, seeming calm on the surface—perhaps too calm. Only he knew how anxious and frightened he really was. When Yuanyuan was nearly engulfed by the sea, he’d broken out in a cold sweat, his soul nearly lost to the sudden disaster. Yet amidst his worry, he felt a burning jealousy—jealous that his senior brother could win such precious love from Yuanyuan, a love so deep she would give her life for him. At the same time, he felt heartache for this foolish girl, so selfless—did she not realize that the more she gave, the harder it was for him to let go? Her goodness and love were etched into his heart, impossible to erase in this lifetime.