Chapter 73 The Kiss She offered a pure, innocent, and clean kiss. ...
Mu Qingheng was completely stunned.
He even blinked blankly, his mouth slightly open, forgetting to turn his head. His appearance was completely unrelated to his usual strategic thinking and intelligence; it even revealed a hint of childlike bewilderment.
Her sweet, clear voice and shy tone resonated deeply within him, making his heart pound faster and faster.
He was not unaware of the situation before him—every single thing about his past with Mengmeng was deeply etched in his heart. He remembered everything, but he never expected that Mengmeng's memories would jump to this point.
Mu Qingheng sat up in a panic. In his confusion, his left leg stump hit the steps. He paused, then slowly bit his lower lip.
This memory confusion caused by the strange energy meant that each time it started over, Mengmeng couldn't remember what happened last night or what he had said to her.
He had just managed to coax "Mengmeng" yesterday, and today's "Mengmeng" is brand new. If he saw him in this broken state, he would inevitably be sad and upset again.
Just as he was hesitating, Mu Meng approached and said, "Brother, the ground is so cold. Don't sit here, you'll get sick."
Mu Qingheng gave a slightly flustered "hmm," cleared his throat to cover it up, and subtly hid his hands in front of him. His right hand formed a hand seal and circled twice around the missing finger on his left hand. Soon, a phantom appeared there, and instantly his left hand looked completely intact.
He did the same thing, raising his hand to cover his face as he wiped it, and then tried a spell on his skin.
Although it was an illusion, Mu Qingheng was quite confident in his abilities. As long as Mengmeng didn't touch it, she definitely wouldn't notice anything amiss—after all, this was Mengmeng from this period, who not only didn't hate him, but even... She didn't remember what happened before, and seeing his severed hands and feet would surely make her cry again. How could he bear to see her shed tears?
Mu Meng waited for a long time, but Mu Qingheng didn't say anything. She asked with some concern, "Brother, why aren't you saying anything? Are you feeling unwell?"
Mu Qingheng had already covered it up, and finally turned around and smiled at her: "No, I was just a little distracted just now."
Mu Meng suddenly frowned. She had hesitated to approach him at first, but seeing that Mu Qingheng seemed to have a strange expression, she took a few steps closer and squatted down beside him, carefully examining his face. "Hey—brother, why do you look so pale? Are you sick? Let me see if you have a fever?"
As she spoke, her slender, white hand reached out to cover it.
Mu Qingheng quickly stepped back—Mengmeng doesn't judge whether someone has a fever by touching their forehead like a normal person; she always touches their cheek. His face was covered by an illusion, so although his appearance was currently identical to before, if Mengmeng touched it, it would be disastrous, and the illusion would be immediately exposed.
"No, I'm fine," Mu Qingheng shook his head and forced a smile. "I probably didn't get enough rest last night."
Mu Meng was puzzled and felt very sorry for you. "So why are you sitting outside my door so late at night instead of sleeping? It's so cold here at night, and you're injured. How can I feel at ease if you don't take care of yourself?"
She frowned and launched into a tirade, though it was a scolding, every word she uttered was gentle and tender. Mu Qingheng couldn't help but lick his lips lightly—the torment of the entire night vanished in an instant, even the last bit of pain disappeared.
He patted his chest, a faint, gentle smile appearing at the corners of his eyes and brows, his complexion instantly regaining some color. "Mengmeng, I'm alright now."
Mu Meng rested her chin on her hands, looking both helpless and distressed, and said, "Yes, you always say you're fine, I'm so tired of hearing it. Okay, it's so cold here, go inside and rest for a bit."
She smiled and helped him up, then habitually leaned very close and hugged his arm, their posture extremely intimate.
Mu Qingheng paused, looking down to see her slender white hand resting on his rough fabric without any disgust. His heart clenched, and he instinctively wanted to resist, but when he met Mengmeng's eyes, he was stunned.
Those beautiful, clear eyes, with their distinct black and white pupils, fully reflected his image—it's been so many years, yet those smiling, kind eyes once again completely held his entire being.
That kind of tenderness is so captivating that it's impossible not to be drawn into it.
For some inexplicable reason, he forgot to run away and readily agreed to let Mengmeng help him up.
Once inside, Mu Meng smiled and poured him a cup of tea, handing it to him. "Brother, have some tea to warm yourself up first. I'll show you something."
Mu Qingheng took the teacup, but did not drink it immediately. Instead, he held the bowl of tea as if it were a precious jewel, gently stroking the rim of the teacup with his large, cool hands, feeling a warm sensation in his palms.
He lowered his eyes and gave a slight smile.
His gaze followed the lively and cheerful girl, his deep, dark pupils filled with an intense, unyielding affection, his eyes and brows brimming with tenderness, making it impossible for him to look away.
Mu Mengchong smiled at Mu Qingheng, then happily ran into the inner room. A moment later, she came out and ran towards him like a lively little oriole.
However, she stopped in her tracks three or four steps away from Mu Qingheng, as if she had suddenly remembered her reserve, and walked towards him step by step with a smile on her face.
At this moment, Mu Qingheng already had some vague guesses in his heart—after that confession in his previous life, there had always been an ambiguous relationship between him and Mengmeng. But soon, their relationship was broken by their encounter with Yun Jiuyan.
This time, without Yun Jiuyan, things proceeded smoothly as before. He didn't know what Mengmeng was going to do, but judging from her demeanor and her gentle, sweet expression—
His heart was filled with joy, yet it also sank straight down.
Mu Meng smiled and sat properly opposite Mu Qingheng. Before she could speak, a blush crept onto her fair and delicate face.
The next moment, she took an envelope out of her bosom.
Mu Qingheng blinked, unconsciously biting his lower lip. A slight look of surprise appeared in his watery eyes. Immediately, his gaze fell on the blush on Mu Meng's cheeks. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he slowly sat up straight, his expression gradually becoming tense.
envelope.
He roughly knew what Mengmeng was going to do.
Heart-wrenching pain is never reasonable; it comes without warning. Once again, his heart throbbed with pain from the inside out. The pain gradually intensified, and Mu Qingheng frowned slightly, silently gritting his teeth to maintain a calm demeanor.
He concealed it well; Mu Meng didn't notice anything. She glanced down at the envelope in her hand, and when she looked up again, her eyes were sparkling with laughter. "Brother, I've been thinking about this seriously for several days. I wrote this letter as soon as I woke up this morning. It's for Father to see..."
Her smile deepened, revealing a row of neat, adorable teeth, as she handed over the letter. "Would you like to take a look first?"
Mu Qingheng was slightly taken aback. He then lowered his eyes and looked at the words "To Father Emperor Mu" on the envelope—each character was written in a dignified and elegant style, and it was clear that every stroke was written with great care.
He parted his lips slightly, and after a long while, he finally spoke, "Mengmeng, since this is a private message you sent to... Father Emperor, how can I just look at it?"
"So what? You're my brother, and I gave you permission to watch it, so of course you can watch it."
Mu Meng raised her hand to touch her slightly flushed cheek, bit her lower lip and smiled, saying, "I don't know if I used the right words for this kind of thing. After all, I reported it to Father to ask for his approval, not to make him angry. Brother, could you take a look for me first and see if there's anything inappropriate?"
With a smile in her eyes, filled with complete trust and joy, she carefully pushed the envelope in front of him.
Mu Qingheng's lips trembled, and after a long while, he slowly raised his eyes.
When Mengmeng saw him approaching, she immediately gave him a bright, smiling smile. In a daze, he seemed to see her again that day, standing in the dimly lit cell, with the same clear, bright eyes—that gentle and calm girl, now overlapping with the Mengmeng before him.
At that moment, she stood before him, her expression cold and distant, her voice resolute:
“I don’t know what judgment Father will ultimately deliver, nor do I know if Sister will kill you directly. But in any case, this is probably the last time we’ll see each other. There are some things I feel I should tell you.”
“Although you deceived me in my past life, I really did have feelings for you. Before I learned those cruel truths, I planned to tell you as soon as I saw you that I wanted to try to be with you. I had already written a letter to my father, explaining my feelings to him, and I planned to go to see him with you. But I didn’t have time.”
Is this the letter? Is this the letter...?
In his past life, how much favor and blessing he received from Heaven, yet he was too oblivious to realize it, leading to his lifelong regret—just how precious are the emotions carried in this crucial letter?
Mengmeng is the bravest and gentlest girl in the world—she clearly knows that he was once her brother, and there is a moral constraint between them; she clearly knows that her bloodline is impure, that she is the son of a demon clan who is despised by everyone and full of sins; she clearly knows that she has lost her spiritual power, lost her position as crown prince, and is a lonely and penniless exiled prisoner.
She knew all of this perfectly well, yet she still responded to his confession and loved him without hesitation.
What kind of love is this?
It was so precious, yet he was completely unaware of it at the time.
In the end, all that remained was—"That Mengmeng is dead, unrelated to the dissection of her heart or the Endless Cliff. The moment she learned the truth, she died along with her heart and that unfulfilled longing."
The calm, unwavering voice faintly echoed in his ears. Mu Qingheng bit his lower lip hard, the increasingly intense, heart-wrenching pain causing him to become dazed, making even the envelope in front of him appear as a blurry image.
"Brother... Brother? What's wrong?" Mu Qingheng tried his best to hold back, but his pale face couldn't lie. Mu Meng noticed something was wrong and immediately walked over from the opposite side to sit next to him, looking at him with concern.
She held his hand tightly, and noticing that it was cold, she gently and tenderly rubbed his fingertips to warm them with her own small hands.
A touch of sadness welled up in Mu Qingheng's heart—he felt heartache for the precious and precious feelings Mengmeng had once had, yet he also felt joy because of her feelings and his current worries.
The pain, which should have intensified due to the pulling sensation, gradually subsided.
Mu Qingheng clutched his heart in disbelief—not enough, not enough, how could this be enough? How could he deserve to live comfortably and joyfully?
While he was lost in thought, Mu Meng suddenly grabbed his arm and shook it gently: "Brother, how about I sneak out and find a doctor to take a look at you? You look really unwell..."
“It’s alright, Mengmeng,” Mu Qingheng rubbed his cheeks vigorously, “I just have some blood stagnation, I’ll clear it up by circulating my internal energy in a bit, this—this letter…”
He gently picked up the letter from the table and stroked it tenderly, as if it were fragile jade.
Finally, he sighed softly, turned his head, and looked at him with guilt and remorse: "I'm sorry, Mengmeng, I shouldn't have treated you like this. I'm so sorry."
"Huh? What are you sorry for?"
Mu Qingheng said in a low voice, "Brother shouldn't have been so abrupt with you."
Mu Meng's face, which had been serious with worry, began to burn again upon hearing his words. "You...you already apologized that day, didn't you? Actually, it wasn't...it was nothing. There's no need for such a serious apology between us..."
Mu Qingheng's gaze softened, and he managed a faint smile, but in the end, his heartache overwhelmed all his emotions.
His Mengmeng, such a good girl, shouldn't be fooled by a calculated confession and give away her pure and innocent heart.
She deserves the most sincere confession and the gentlest love in the world. She should be cherished and protected.
Then, with all my piety and sincerity, I have the right to kiss her.
As someone who deeply loves her, and as her brother, he cannot bear to watch Mengmeng respond to that deceitful and unbearable confession.
Mu Meng could tell that Mu Qingheng was still feeling guilty and ashamed. She was a little confused by his abrupt apology. After thinking for a moment, she explained, "Brother, if it's because of that time you secretly came to my room and kissed me, don't be sad. Actually... I've thought about it. Although you didn't tell me beforehand, I... I don't think I've ever been angry with you."
Her voice grew softer and softer as she spoke. She had been looking at him, but halfway through her sentence, her cheeks flushed, she looked away and lowered her head to finish the sentence.
Mu Qingheng looked down at her, but only saw her lowered head, slightly reddened ears, and a slender white neck that was faintly visible under her black hair.
He opened his mouth, but a sound choked in his throat. He suppressed the stinging in his eyes, his heart overflowing with pity, but he didn't know how to put it down. So he raised his hand and gently placed it on the top of her head, stroking it tenderly twice.
Mu Meng smiled, her eyes narrowed. Her brother's hands were warm, just as they had always been. She turned to look at him with a smile, but found that his expression was still the same—unlike her joy and happiness, her brother looked very remorseful, and the emotion was so deep that she almost felt he was deeply disgusted with himself.
He probably didn't believe her explanation at all.
How could this be? Mu Meng blinked. Was it because she overreacted or misspoke that night, making her brother sad and upset? To the point that he still felt guilty; or... just now when she spoke, she lowered her head and didn't look at him seriously, so her brother felt that her words were perfunctory?
There were probably only two possibilities, Mu Meng thought. Not wanting a misunderstanding at the very beginning of their mutual attraction, she suppressed her lingering shyness, her cheeks flushed as she looked directly into Mu Qingheng's eyes, mustering her courage but still speaking in a barely audible voice:
"Brother, I'm serious, I...I like you too..."
After thinking for a moment, she added softly but firmly, "I've thought about it carefully afterward, and I'm really not angry at all about you secretly kissing me that day. In fact, I feel a little... a little..."
What exactly it was, Mu Meng never said. Unable to articulate it, she steeled herself and suddenly moved closer to the man before her—
Close your eyes and offer a pure, innocent kiss.
However, she misjudged the distance; she originally intended to kiss the corner of her brother's lips, but ended up kissing his chin instead.
After doing all this, Mu Meng's cheeks were burning hot, and her clear, bright eyes were slightly watery from the tingling sensation.
Crystal clear and sparkling, as fragile and beautiful as glass.
At this time, Mengmeng was still young, and her way of expressing her feelings was clean and sincere. She mustered up her courage and suddenly approached him unexpectedly, catching him completely off guard.
Mu Qingheng closed his eyes.
The warm, soft touch still lingered on her chin; beneath her calm skin and bones, her blood was already surging and boiling.
I was overjoyed. The warm current surging deep within my heart felt like a sharp barb, slicing through my heart inch by inch.
Mu Qingheng smiled faintly, then finally couldn't help but reach out and gently embrace Mu Meng.
The force was so light it felt as if she were holding some precious jade or porcelain, or like a bursting bubble; with just a little more force, the treasure in her arms would vanish.
His eyes were closed, and his long, dark eyebrows slowly and gradually furrowed.
"Mengmeng," he called out.
Mu Meng responded, "What's wrong, brother?"
He gave a low, bitter laugh. This was the most absurd joke in the world: not that it was ultimately lost, but that it could have been.
“Mengmeng…” he murmured again.
Mu Meng smiled and said, "I'm here," unaware of Mu Qingheng's thoughts. He didn't press the matter and nestled comfortably in his brother's arms. His body was warm, and his embrace was broad and comforting, as if everything in the world paled in comparison to this boundless tenderness.
Mu Meng couldn't help but smile quietly, her little hands, which had nowhere to go, obediently hugged her brother's slender waist. Then, not knowing what to say or do, she could only quietly embrace him.
But soon, she noticed that her clothes were damp and warm on her shoulders.
After a moment of stunned silence, she realized that it was her brother who was crying.
Mu Meng's heart clenched for a moment. She was about to ask a question, but then she stopped herself from speaking. No one cries for no reason, especially not her brother. She had never met anyone stronger than him.
He didn't cry when he was seriously injured; he didn't cry when his father banished him; he didn't cry no matter how many grievances and difficulties he went through. Why would he cry now? Could it be... could it be because of his own response?
Was he... was he too happy?
Thinking this, Mu Meng thoughtfully refrained from making a sound to disturb him, and simply raised her little hand to patiently pat and soothe him.
"Mengmeng..." After a long time, Mu Meng heard his response, his voice so low that it seemed to only cause a slight tremor in her chest, "...I love you."
...
In the end, Mu Qingheng did not open the letter presented to the Heavenly Emperor, but carefully put it away after Mu Meng fell into a deep sleep and kept it close to his body.
That night, just like the day before, Mu Qingheng sat on the empty, cold steps, silently removing the disguise from his hands and face, revealing his original, broken, and scarred appearance.
Looking at the red line that had run through the entire palm of his left hand, Mu Qingheng gently pressed the top of the red line on his wrist.
Where will this line extend after tomorrow?
Will he still be alive?
Mu Qingheng slowly raised his eyes, gazing in the direction of the Endless Cliff—he was not afraid of death, and even his current life was something he had borrowed; he should have died long ago. But could he die peacefully and without worry in the face of this outcome? Although Mengmeng already possessed the ability to fight that monster, she did not have an overwhelming advantage.
What if the monster doesn't die and returns one day, while his life is already helplessly nearing its end?
As dawn broke on the horizon, Mu Qingheng still couldn't figure out a solution to his predicament. He wearily pinched the bridge of his nose and suddenly heard a creak behind him.
The door opened.
Then came a moment of silence.
Mu Qingheng gently closed his eyes, and could even feel that the wind blowing past his ears was no longer light and pleasant, but instead stirred up a cold, heavy, blood-red hatred.
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