He also had something to say to Xiang Qing. After Shi Luoxuan half-pulled and half-dragged Yan Qingshan into the house, Chu Huaixu poured wine into his and the man's cups.
"Brother Xiang, I salute you."
"You can't drink." Song Ting stopped him from taking the glass of wine from his hand.
Out of concern for his health, Shi Luoxuan brewed him a pot of tea and didn't let him touch the wine. Naturally, Song Ting also wouldn't let him drink. Chu Huaixu, however, didn't seem to care much: "Just one cup, it'll be fine."
Song Ting could never persuade him otherwise. After a moment of looking at each other, he let go of her hand and gave in: "Only one cup."
Chu Huaixu readily agreed: "Okay."
But in reality, she drank more than just that one cup, and Song Ting finally hardened her attitude: "You're not allowed to drink anymore."
This was the first time he had used the word "forbidden" on Chu Huaixu, who seemed somewhat surprised and actually put down his wine cup.
“But I feel terrible,” he said.
Song Ting was well aware of this. During this period, Chu Huaixu appeared to be very strong on the surface, but in reality, when he fell asleep in the dead of night, he suffered from insomnia almost every night, tossing and turning all night long.
With his family destroyed, his martial arts skills lost, and his once-proud son of heaven reduced to this state, it would be impossible for anyone to recover so quickly.
Song Ting felt heartbroken but didn't know how to comfort him, so she could only say, "As long as you live, one day you will make your enemies pay for their blood debts."
He was a man accustomed to killing, and this was the only way he could seek revenge. Whether Chu Huaixu believed it or not, he had made up his mind that one day he would avenge this man.
"Blood debts must be repaid in blood..." The four words rolled on Chu Huaixu's tongue, the last syllable emphasized, filled with intense hatred. "You're right, blood debts must be repaid in blood, it's only right and proper."
The words were clearly spoken by Song Tingxian, which was the most direct way to say them. However, when the same words came out of Chu Huaixu's mouth, Song Tingxian's heart skipped a beat, and her internal organs felt as if they were being crushed.
"But Brother Xiang, do you really think I can make that person pay for their crimes in blood?"
"Yes." Song Ting gritted her teeth.
Chu Huaixu chuckled softly, his face revealing no emotion. Song Ting felt even more pain in her heart.
As the weather gradually turned colder, a few cool breezes swept through the night. It was especially easy to catch a cold after drinking. He stood up and said, "That's enough for today. We have to travel tomorrow morning, so let's not drink anymore."
Chu Huaixu's legs went weak, and with Song Ting's help, he fell directly into Song Ting's arms. Song Ting stiffened and awkwardly helped him back to the bedroom.
"Rest for a while, I'll go get some hot water and wash your face."
Chu Huaixu half-closed his eyes and said, "Mm."
He looked very tired, so Song Ting didn't delay any longer and quickly scooped up a basin of hot water.
Previously, Chu Huaixu was unable to move his hands and feet properly, so Song Ting helped him with these things. After he recovered, Huaixu stopped asking Song Ting for help and started washing and changing his clothes by himself.
So Song Ting simply rubbed the handkerchief and handed it over. But Chu Huaixu stared at him, his fingertips gently grasping it, and said in a voice tinged with alcohol, "You help me..."
This sentence, both in expression and tone, carried an inexplicable ambiguity. If Song Ting didn't know this person's personality, he would have thought that Huai Xu was deliberately seducing him.
But he couldn't help being bewitched, and squatted by the bedside, gently wiping Chu Huaixu's flushed cheeks with a handkerchief.
"Brother Xiang." Chu Huaixu suddenly reached out and put his arm around Song Ting's neck, a move that caught Song Ting completely off guard.
The two were already very close, but Chu Huaixu's action brought them even closer, their faces almost touching.
"..." Song Ting swallowed hard, her breath caught in her throat, and she stared at the person in front of her, her face flushed.
"Brother Xiang," Chu Huaixu called him again.
Song Ting stopped breathing. It was too close; he hadn't been so intimate with this person in a long time.
At this moment, he once again felt as if his meridians were flowing backward, as if all the blood in his body was flowing back into his brain, making him unable to think of anything.
Only the person in front of me.
At the same time, he was also clearly aware that Huaixu's dependence and tenderness were not for him.
It's still Xiang Qing.
He felt as if his heart had been split in two, one half happy because of Huaixu's closeness, and the other half so painful that he wanted to kill "Xiang Qing".
Huaixu could only be close to him.
It can only be him.
“Brother Xiang, you taught me that blood debts must be repaid with blood, so…” He was caught in a struggle between pain and pleasure, but he didn’t notice that the person in front of him had silently changed his expression. Chu Huaixu narrowed his eyes dangerously, “Go to hell.”
The boy's voice was like the coldest wind in the dead of winter, devoid of any warmth. Song Ting's pupils trembled violently, and before she could react, her heart ached.
Song Ting lowered his eyes, and the silvery moonlight fell on the half-raised eyelids of the person in front of him, making his expression even colder.
In his hand, he held a jade hairpin, which was completely embedded in Song Ting's chest, with only a small portion remaining outside.
It hurts a lot.
Song Ting was immersed in the Shadow Guard training camp from a young age. After undergoing the most brutal training, she went through dozens, if not hundreds, of missions, big and small. She suffered countless injuries and bled profusely, and several times she was on the verge of death, just one breath away from meeting the King of Hell.
But never before had he felt such pain. It was as if he had died a thousand times in that instant.
He raised his hand, wanting to grasp Chu Huaixu's cold, blood-stained hand, but the latter misunderstood his action and gripped the hairpin even tighter.
The boy's pale face was filled with hatred: "Song Ting, go to hell!"
"When...did you recognize me..." The hairpin was stuck too deep and went straight for his heart. Blood seeped from the corner of Song Ting's mouth, and his face turned deathly pale in an instant.
Chu Huaixu did not answer the question. He stared at the person in front of him, his face even more pale than that of someone who had been seriously injured.
He was a disciple of Wang Dan, the commander of the Imperial Guards, but he had never put his skills to practice, only discussing victory and defeat with others in the training grounds. This was the first time he had ever harbored murderous intent towards someone, plunging a sharp weapon into another person's chest.
And this person was someone he had once trusted implicitly and dreamed of spending his life with.
The weapon he used was a birthday gift given to him by this person.
It was also the only item on his body that wasn't taken away during the search.
It's a pity that his martial arts skills were completely ruined, so he couldn't stab any deeper and kill Song Ting immediately.
Chu Huaixu could barely bear it and released his grip with trembling arms.
He should have pressed it in further, driven the hairpin in even deeper, and perhaps Song Ting would have died.
But in reality, he couldn't muster any strength at all. The crimson blood stung his eyes, and all he could see were towering flames and blood everywhere.
He stumbled and staggered helplessly into the twilight.
"Young Master!" This attack had actually seriously injured Song Ting, but he disregarded his injuries and, clutching his chest, chased after him...
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