Chapter 53: White Hair Overnight, Nameless Tomb
"ah--!!!!"
A scream so shrill that it didn't sound like a human voice broke the silence of the bamboo forest.
There was no pleasure of revenge or joy of victory in that voice, only the most primitive and desperate wail that came from having one's soul torn apart alive.
After the scream, there was dead silence.
A dead silence that is heavier than death itself.
Su Qinghan cradled Shen Ye's gradually cooling body, kneeling on the cold muddy ground. She remained motionless, as if she had died with him, transformed into a soulless ice sculpture.
The wind whistled through the bamboo forest, making a whimpering sound, as if playing a final elegy for the lovers who had been teased by fate. Moonlight filtered through the swaying bamboo leaves, casting dappled and fragmented shadows, illuminating her bloodless face and the blood on his chest, which had solidified into a shocking dark red.
Time has lost its meaning.
Su Qinghan's mind went blank.
She couldn't feel the cold, couldn't feel the pain, couldn't even feel that she was still alive. Her world, with his final exhortation to "live well", completely collapsed into an infinitesimal, pitch-black dot.
She just held him.
I used all my strength to hug him tightly, as if by doing so I could retain even a bit of his fading body temperature.
His body was getting cold and stiff.
The arms that were once warm and strong now drooped weakly; the chest that once made her feel at ease was now pierced with a cold sword that she had stabbed with her own hands.
It was she who...killed him.
This realization, like a red-hot iron, stirred back and forth in her mind repeatedly and mercilessly.
Why... did it turn out like this?
Those warm, dreamlike days in the small courtyard outside Beijing appeared before her eyes frame by frame.
She remembered the first time he boiled medicine for her, he ended up boiling the water dry and burning through the bottom of the pot. He stood in front of the broken pot, his face full of regret and helplessness. That look made her, who bore a deep blood feud, couldn't help but laugh secretly.
She remembered that he had stayed by her bedside all night, her wound inflamed and her fever lingering. In her daze, she felt a cool yet steady hand holding hers, channeling a weak but uninterrupted flow of inner energy into her body. At dawn, she found him asleep, sprawled over the edge of the bed, his eyes a deep, dark blue, his face even paler than her own.
She remembered that she had told him her name was Su Qinghan. After hearing this, he just nodded silently, but she saw a flash of light as bright as a star in the depths of his calm eyes.
He also said: "I will help you avenge your hatred."
…
"I will help you avenge your hatred."
…
puff--
A mouthful of blood suddenly spurted out of Su Qinghan's mouth, staining her snow-white clothes red and splashing on his lifeless face.
It turns out that this is the most cruel torture in the world.
Use the sweetest memories to torture a broken heart.
He wasn't lying to her.
He never lied to her from beginning to end.
In the small courtyard, that clumsy, gentle, and taciturn night was real.
In the bamboo forest, the "Candle Shadow" who only defended and did not attack, was willing to die, and used his life to fulfill her wish, was also real.
Chen Ye and "Zhu Ying" have never been two people.
They were two sides of the same person: the light she loved deeply, the darkness she hated.
And she, in extreme anger and the illusion of humiliation, completely extinguished the light that had illuminated her life with her own hands.
She thought he was using a gesture of charity to belittle her hatred.
But she only now understood that it was not contempt, it was the heaviest and most humble atonement he could give.
He placed his life squarely in front of her.
He said: Qinghan, you see, I am your hatred. Now, I hand it over to you, and you can put an end to it with your own hands. From now on, you can break free from this shackle and live a good life.
How ridiculous, Shen Ye.
You are the smartest assassin in the world, but also the stupidest fool in the world.
You thought that by killing my greatest enemy, I could be free.
But why don’t you think about it, what if that enemy happens to be my only lover?
If I kill him, will I get relief, or... an even more endless hell?
“Hehe…hehehe…”
Su Qinghan let out a few dry, broken laughs from his throat. As he laughed, tears welled up again.
This time, the tears were hot and tasted of blood, burning her cheeks and her already broken heart.
She lost.
A complete defeat.
She won the hatred, but lost the person who made her understand what "living" meant for the first time.
She avenged her father, but ended up turning herself into an executioner who killed her own lover, a person that even her father couldn't recognize.
She held him in her arms, just like that, from the time the moon reached its zenith to the time it set in the west.
From the dead silence of the night to the glimmer before dawn.
She could feel that something in her body was being drained away bit by bit as time passed.
Vitality, emotions, soul... everything that constitutes the person "Su Qinghan" is rapidly withering and dying.
The coldness that came from the depths of her soul spread along her meridians to her limbs and bones, and finally, even the roots of her hair were filled with a biting chill.
She raised her hand and a strand of hair fell from her temple.
In the dim light of morning light, the black hair had turned into frosty white without anyone noticing.
When I looked up again, I saw more hairs turning from black to gray, and from gray to white at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Turn white overnight.
It turns out that the legendary hair turning white overnight is not caused by extreme pain, but because of... extreme emptiness.
When a person's heart is completely dead, her life is just a walking, pale shell.
The sky finally brightened.
The morning light penetrated the bamboo forest, dispelling the darkness, but it could not dispel the haze in her heart.
The tear marks on Su Qinghan's face had dried up, and the eyes that were once as clear as autumn water were now filled with dead, bottomless ashes.
She slowly and carefully laid Shen Ye's body flat on the ground, as if he was just asleep and the slightest bump would wake him up.
Then, she pulled out the "Hanjiangxue" that was still stuck in his chest.
The moment the sword left the body, the last trace of heat also dissipated.
She looked at the blood that had already solidified on the sword, which belonged to him, with empty eyes.
She stood up, walked to the side, and began to dig the ground beneath her feet with the sword that had just drunk his blood.
Her movements were slow and mechanical, like an emotionless puppet.
The sword blade cut through the soil, making a dull sound.
She did not use any internal force, but only used her most primitive strength, one sword, one sword, and another sword.
The dirt covered her hands and her white clothes, but she didn't care.
She just wanted to dig a home for him with her own hands.
A place where he can rest in peace.
She didn't know how long she had been digging until a deep enough pit appeared in front of her.
She walked over to him again, bent down, and wanted to pick him up, but when her hands touched his cold body, she stopped.
How should she place him?
How should I groom him?
Should she cover up the fatal wound on his chest? But that was proof of her revenge.
Should she wipe the blood off his face? But that was his blood that he shed for her.
Should she let him lie down with honor? But he was an assassin with a blood debt on his head.
Should she let him close his eyes peacefully? But he was her sworn enemy, the murderer of her father.
He was also... the only person she loved with all her heart.
Ultimately, she did nothing.
She simply placed his truest and cruelest appearance, along with her own regret and love that had nowhere to go, gently into the cold tomb.
She began to fill the soil.
One handful, one handful, and another handful.
The soil gradually covered his dark blue clothes, his handsome but pale face, and his eyes that would never open again and would never look at her tenderly again.
Until the last handful of soil fell, all that was left in front of him was a lonely new grave.
it's all over.
Su Qinghan knelt in front of the grave for a long time without getting up.
She wanted to erect a monument for him.
But what words should be engraved on the monument?
The tomb of "Zhuying", the chief assassin of Tianji Pavilion?
This was an explanation to her father, and also a summary of her revenge career that had lasted for over a decade. But every word was like a ruthless mockery of their relationship, reminding her that she had buried her lover with her own hands.
That……
My love, the tomb of the deep night?
These words were her deepest desire, the only warmth she felt in that small courtyard. But if so, where would her deceased father be? Where would the deep hatred she bore be?
She found that she could not give him a name.
Because, whether it was the "candlelight" or the "dark night," they only represented part of this tragedy. And the complete him was the fate that she could not express in words, nor bear throughout her life...
She buried him in this bamboo forest with her own hands. There was no tombstone, because she didn't know what to call him. Was it "Zhu Ying" (Zhu Ying), her enemy, or "Chen Ye" (Shen Ye), her lover?
Three days later, at the Six Gates headquarters.
When Su Qinghan stepped into the solemn and dignified gate again, everyone who saw her was stunned without exception.
The Su Shenbu in their memory was the woman who was elegant and handsome, and heroic. Although she had a cold personality, there was always an unquenchable fire burning in her eyes.
But the person in front of me...
She was dressed in plain clothes, washed to a pale white. Her figure was even thinner than before, as if a gust of wind could blow her down. And the most alarming thing was her hair... white as frost and snow.
It wasn't a beautiful silver-white color, but a kind of...lifeless, dead gray color that appeared after the vitality was completely drained away.
There was no expression on her face. Her eyes, which had once been bright and moving, were now like two bottomless pools of stagnant water, without a ripple or a ray of light.
She just walked quietly, ignoring all the astonished, sympathetic, or inquiring looks around her.
She walked straight to the study of the ruthless chief constable.
"Come in."
From the study, Tie Wuqing's deep and majestic voice was heard.
Su Qinghan pushed the door open and walked in.
Tie Wuqing, who was handling official business, looked up. The moment he saw who it was, his usually stoic face was instantly filled with shock. The wolf-hair brush in his hand fell to the file with a "click," leaving a large smudge of ink.
"Qinghan...your hair..."
For the first time, Tie Wuqing's voice trembled slightly. He tried to stand up, but found his legs were heavy.
These three days felt like years to him.
After Su Qinghan issued his declaration of war, he severed all contact with the Six Gates. The men he sent out searched everywhere, but found no leads. He could only wait in agony.
He hoped that she could succeed and avenge the Su family.
He was also afraid that she would fail and lose himself as well.
Now, she is back.
But when he looked at her...she looked as if her soul had been pulled out, the heavy stone that had been hanging in his heart for three days not only did not fall, but instead turned into an iceberg, pressing heavily on his heart.
Su Qinghan did not answer his question about her hair. She just reported to him calmly in an almost mechanical tone.
"Captain, my father's murderer, 'Zhu Ying,' has been executed."
Her face was expressionless and her voice was eerily calm.
Each of these twelve words was extremely clear, but when put together, they made Tie Wuqing feel a chill from the bottom of his heart.
He was executed.
She was talking about being executed.
It's not "killed by me" or "full of evil", but rather "executed".
It was a cold, official word, devoid of any personal emotion, as if what she was reporting wasn't the murderer of her father whom she had painstakingly pursued for over a decade, but merely a name on a file that had nothing to do with her.
Tie Wuqing was shocked when he saw her hair turning white overnight and her eyes that were so empty that it was heartbreaking.
He had been in the military for half his life and had seen more life and death than many people had eaten salt. He could clearly smell a certain scent from Su Qinghan.
That wasn't the relief after revenge, but... a smell of despair that was even stronger than death itself.
He suddenly remembered that Su Qinghan had mentioned this in his previous report.
She said that there was a man named Chen Ye who saved her from danger.
She had described it lightly at the time, but as someone who had experienced it, how could he not see the unusual light that flashed in her eyes when she mentioned that name?
A bold and terrifying guess emerged uncontrollably in his mind.
Could it be...
Tie Wuqing didn't dare to think about it anymore.
He looked at the child in front of him whom he had watched grow up, the disciple whom he treated as his own son and taught him everything he knew, and now he had become like this. A huge, powerless sadness and self-blame surged in his heart.
It was he who led her onto this path.
It was he who gave her the best resources, the strongest martial arts, and trained her to be the sharpest knife.
He thought he was helping her achieve justice.
But he never thought that while stabbing the enemy, this knife might also... stab herself.
Thousands of words, in the end, just turned into a long sigh full of complex emotions.
"well……"
"Qinghan, you've suffered so much over the years."
There was still no fluctuation in Su Qinghan's eyes, as if that sigh was just the wind blowing across the wilderness.
"Chief Constable, is there any result from Prince Ning's side?" She spoke again, her voice still flat, as if she was talking about a business that had nothing to do with her.
Tie Wuqing suppressed his emotions, nodded, and said in a deep voice, "With the death of 'Zhuying', Prince Ning lost his sharpest foes and the last witness who could incriminate him. We, in conjunction with the Censorate, presented the ironclad evidence of his treason to His Majesty. Prince Ning, knowing he was doomed, committed suicide in his palace yesterday. His accomplices have also been taken into custody. Your father's case is...completely closed."
After he finished speaking, he stared closely at Su Qinghan's face, hoping to see a hint of comfort and relief from it.
But he was disappointed.
Su Qinghan's face was still filled with that dead calmness.
Prince Ning is dead.
The source of all tragedies is also dead.
But what meaning does this have to her?
Can these so-called "justice" and "resolution" bring back her father's life?
Could it bring back that night...in the bamboo forest, with arms open to her?
Neither.
"I see."
Su Qinghan nodded slowly, then took out the token representing her identity as the Six Gates Divine Constable from her arms and gently placed it on Tie Wuqing's desk.
"Captain Qinghan has come here today to say goodbye to you."
Tie Wuqing's heart tightened: "Where are you going?"
"Go back to Jiangnan." Su Qinghan raised his eyes, and for the first time, those empty eyes looked out the window, towards the south. "Go back to the Su family's old house. That's where I belong."
"and you……"
"From now on, there will no longer be Su Qinghan, the Six Gates' Divine Constable." She calmly interrupted Tie Wuqing. "There will only be one... Su Qinghan, the daughter who is in mourning for her father."
Tie Wuqing looked at the cold token on the table, then looked at the heart-dead woman in front of him. He knew that he could no longer keep her.
He nodded, his voice hoarse: "Okay. I agree. If... if you have any difficulties in Jiangnan, you can always..."
"Thank you, Chief Constable." Su Qinghan bowed slightly, performing the final, most standard, courtesy of a subordinate. "I'm afraid we'll never meet again in this lifetime. Qinghan, goodbye. You... take care."
After saying that, she turned around, without a trace of nostalgia, and walked out of the study, out of the six doors, step by step, towards the long rest of her life without him.
…
A few years later, Jiangnan, Suzhou.
The old Su family mansion, with its mottled red lacquer door, remained closed year-round. Neighbors only knew that the house was inhabited by the orphan daughter of Minister Su, a solitary girl who never socialized with anyone.
She resigned from her position at the Six Gates and returned to the Su family's old house in Jiangnan.
Spring, summer, autumn and winter, cold and heat go away.
She was just alone, guarding an empty house and a regret that could never be expressed.
Whenever it snowed, she would come to the courtyard alone and draw out the long sword named "Hanjiangxue".
The snow was falling heavily, and the whole place was covered with white, obscuring the sky and the earth.
She was dressed in plain clothes and had white hair. In the silent snow, she practiced the sword skills that she was familiar with in her bones over and over again.
The sword light was still cold and clear, like pear blossoms all over the sky, like snow reflected in a cold river.
But there was no light in the eyes of the man dancing with the sword anymore.
She won the hatred but lost the rest of her life.
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