Chapter 66 He Enters My Dream with a Thousand Lamps (Part Two) First published on Jinjiang Literature City…
"No rush." Xiao Mo withdrew his hand. "Wait until you finish eating."
The maid quickly brought over another bowl of rice porridge with minced meat, cooked to a perfect temperature. Just as Ye Yixiang was about to reach out to take it, Xiao Mo naturally picked up the porcelain spoon, scooped up a spoonful, gently blew on it, and brought it to her lips.
She opened her mouth slightly and swallowed obediently. One spoonful, then another. The porridge was fragrant, stewed until very soft, and easy to eat. She ate slowly but cooperatively until the bowl was empty.
Xiao Mo seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and handed the empty bowl to the maid. "If you eat well for the next few days," he looked at her, his tone carrying a hint of promise, "I will have Yun Yi remove the chains from your wrists."
Ye Yixiang stared blankly ahead and softly hummed in agreement.
Xiao Mo then stood up and straightened his slightly wrinkled robes. The back of his collar, stained with a faint scent of blood, was unnoticed and hidden beneath his dark hair. He gave her one last look before turning and leaving.
The footsteps faded into the distance until they disappeared. The door was closed again, the sound of the lock clicking softly but clearly.
The feigned gentleness and obedience on Ye Yixiang's face vanished as quickly as the tide receded, leaving only a deeper weariness and a cold emptiness. She slowly slid back onto the cold ground, the chains making a dull dragging sound.
Yan Qing...
Where are you?
I am trapped here, could you... possibly find me?
Her previous feigned politeness had almost exhausted her remaining energy.
At this moment, an even deeper loneliness and despair, like a dark tide, silently surged up again, engulfing her. She curled up, hugged her knees tightly, and buried her face in her arms.
The tears she had been holding back finally streamed down her face, soaking her rough sleeves. Her shoulders trembled silently, and a suppressed sob escaped her throat.
She was like a child abandoned in the endless night, unable to find her way or see the end, with only fear and suffocating loneliness clinging to her.
Time has lost its meaning once again.
The maids who brought her food came and went, and she no longer bothered to count the number of times or distinguish between day and night. When the porridge was brought in, sometimes she would mechanically eat a few bites, but more often she would just let it get cold and be taken away untouched.
The wound on her wrist had scabbed over, only to reopen due to her unconscious struggles, leaving it stained with blood. The iron chain seemed to have grown into her flesh, becoming a part of her body, a constant reminder of her prisoner status.
Will I really be locked up here forever? Locked up until I go crazy, locked up until I die?
The auditory hallucinations began to return. Not memories, but a more immediate fear. The sound of iron hooves seemed to echo right outside the door, the soldiers' shouts were intimately close, and the whistling of blades cutting through the air was clearly audible…
"No...don't come any closer!" She covered her ears abruptly, shaking her head desperately, shrinking herself into a smaller ball, her back pressed tightly against the cold wall. "Don't kill them...the people of Chang'an are innocent...please..."
She couldn't tell if it was real or an illusion; immense fear gripped her, making her tremble like a leaf and tears stream down her face.
Just when she was almost completely consumed by this imagined fear...
"Bang!!!"
With a deafening crash, the door was kicked open from the outside with tremendous force! The heavy wooden door, unable to withstand the weight, collapsed to the ground with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust!
Chaotic footsteps... the clanging of metal in battle... short screams of agony suddenly flooded the deathly silent cell!
Ye Yixiang screamed in terror, clutching her head and shrinking into the deepest corner, sobbing incoherently, "No! Don't kill them... please..."
A figure, like lightning cleaving through the darkness, carrying a biting wind and a heavy stench of blood, broke through the doorway and strode in!
"Arao!!!"
That roar was so familiar that it made her soul tremble, yet it seemed to be blurred and unreal, as if separated by a thick film of water.
Immediately afterwards, there was a sharp, piercing clang! Something cold and heavy snapped in response!
Suddenly, her wrist felt lighter! The iron chain that had imprisoned her for countless days, growing fused with her flesh, was cleanly and decisively severed in two by a flash of gleaming blade! The broken chain slammed to the ground with a dull thud.
Ye Yixiang raised her head blankly, her eyes blurred with tears, unable to see anything but a swaying light and shadow and a cacophony of sounds.
"Please don't kill them... The people are innocent..." she murmured unconsciously, trapped in a terrifying illusion.
The next instant, a strong and firm embrace, cool with the night dew, suddenly pulled her into a tight hug!
The newcomer also seemed to be injured, breathing heavily, and carrying the fresh smell of blood and dust, but the warmth of that embrace pierced through all her fear and confusion, reaching straight to her heart.
A cool cheek pressed tightly against her tear-stained forehead, and a voice filled with the ecstatic joy of regaining what was lost rang in her ear, each word as heavy as a vow:
"It's me! Arao, it's me! I'm here! No one will ever be able to hurt you again! Never!"
The embrace was so tight that she could barely breathe, her bones aching slightly. Warm breaths brushed against her ears and neck, tinged with urgency and panic. The sounds of fighting around her gradually subsided, replaced by steady, rapid footsteps and low reports, as if everything was under control.
But this real, almost violent embrace clashed violently with the chilling image of swords flashing in her mind. Ye Yixiang's body remained stiff, her fingertips unconsciously curling as she gripped the fabric of the newcomer's clothes, her knuckles turning white. She was still trembling, a subtle shiver like the last leaf in the autumn wind.
"Please...please...please..." she murmured, her voice broken.
"Arao, look at me!" Chu Huaili loosened his embrace slightly, cupped her cold, tear-stained cheeks in his hands, and forced her to lift her face, even though he knew she couldn't see anything at the moment.
He forcefully wiped away the tear tracks under her eyes with the pad of his thumb, his voice hoarse and strained from suppressing his turbulent emotions, "It's me! Chu Huaili! Not the rebels, not the nightmare! You're safe!"
The warmth from her palm and the familiar, imperial yet intensely anxious force finally pierced through the layers of fear and into her muddled consciousness like a beam of light.
Yan Qing?
Yan Qing...
Her blank, empty pupils contracted almost imperceptibly, and she stopped her meaningless murmurs.
His thick eyelashes trembled violently, glistening with tiny teardrops. The touch on his cheek felt so real, and the scent... it was the crisp, clear scent of ebony from his memory, mixed with the fresh smell of blood and the dew of the mountains at night, yet carrying a uniquely reassuring chill that belonged only to him.
Is it not a hallucination?
Her chapped lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but only a few breathy sounds came out.
The body reacted before the mind could.
The shoulders, which had been stretched to their limit, suddenly collapsed, as if all the supporting strength had been instantly drained away. The fingers that were gripping his clothes loosened and tightened again, ultimately only digging deeper into the blood-stained and dust-covered fabric.
“Yan…Qing…?” She finally uttered two clear but extremely faint syllables, with an incredulous tentativeness and a desperate hope like a drowning person grasping at a piece of driftwood.
"It's me." Chu Huaili responded immediately, pulling her tightly back into his arms, his chin resting on the top of her cold hair, his voice deep and hoarse, filled with unmistakable pain and lingering fear, "I've found you."
This time, Ye Yixiang did not struggle. She buried her face deeply in his chest, feeling his strong yet steady heartbeat, her nose filled with the scent of ebony and sandalwood emanating from him.
Tears welled up again, but these were no longer tears of fear; instead, they were a mixture of extreme grievance and lingering dread. Her shoulders heaved in his arms.
Chu Huaili held her for a moment, feeling her body gradually warm up, and her crying changed from violent sobs to low whimpers. Only then did his tense heartstrings relax a little.
He looked down and, by the flickering light of the torches outside the door, saw her clearly: her face was as pale as paper, she had dark circles under her eyes, her lips were chapped, her long hair was disheveled, and her thin clothes were covered in dust.
The most striking sight was the heavy iron chain that had fallen to the ground, still stained with dark red blood, and the deep, bone-revealing abrasions on her wrists.
A surge of rage and murderous intent, almost burning away his reason, swept over him again. He closed his eyes briefly, forcibly suppressing it.
He bent down, slipped one hand under her legs, and wrapped the other arm tightly around her back, carefully lifting her horizontally in his arms. She was so light that it startled him, like a feather. She shivered slightly in his arms, instinctively reaching out to wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face deeper into the crook of his shoulder, drawing in that real and warm sense of security.
Chu Huaili carried her and strode out of the room that had imprisoned her for who knows how long.
Torches lit up the courtyard outside the gate. Pei Hong stood solemnly with a squad of elite Xuanjia guards. Several corpses of men in black lay on the ground, and the air was thick with the lingering stench of blood.
Chu Huaili's gaze was as cold as the ice of the deepest hell. He didn't stop, only uttering a cold, emotionless command to Pei Hong behind him:
"Burn this place down for me."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" Pei Hong bowed without hesitation and accepted the order, his voice firm and resounding.
Holding Ye Yixiang in his arms, Chu Huaili walked straight through the courtyard and headed towards the carriage parked on the outskirts without looking back. The person in his arms raised her head slightly, her empty eyes gazing blankly at the gradually brightening flames behind her, before being pulled into an even tighter embrace by Chu Huaili.
The mountain road was bumpy, and the carriage sped through the forest.
Inside the carriage, Ye Yixiang was carefully wrapped in a cloak by Chu Huaili and held on his lap. She nestled quietly against him, her ears filled with his steady heartbeat and the rhythmic sound of horses' hooves outside the carriage. Her tense mind, which had been taut for who knows how long, finally began to relax.
My eyelids felt heavy, and my consciousness gradually faded.
However, this hard-won peace did not last long.
As the carriage approached a bend in the mountain road where it suddenly narrowed, Chu Huaili tightened his grip on Ye Yixiang's arm!
Almost simultaneously, Pei Hong's short and sharp warning came from outside the car: "Protect the Emperor—!"
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