Chapter 32 Was it really a miscalculation? If you hadn’t saved me back then, then…
Chapter 32: Is It Really a Miscalculation?
It was nearly midnight. Downstairs in the inn, swords and sabers still reflected the moonlight. Its cold light shone on everyone's face, as if even the air itself had frozen.
How these people surrounded her silently and how she would escape again, a thousand thoughts surged in her mind, but Qing Guiyu had no mind to think about these things.
The master was dead, killed by the silk blades released by the Cold Marrow Technique.
And this method of using the cold silk blade was almost created by her in the medicine house back then.
Qing Guiyu's legs went weak and she was about to fall. She hurriedly used her bamboo flute to support herself against the ground, trying to get some leverage, but was immediately supported by Lu Guiyan.
Lu Guiyan looked down at her, his expression tending to be compassionate, with some silver strands hanging down in his hair, gleaming faintly in the moonlight. His face was cold, and his gentleness was mixed with a neat and unfamiliar alienation, like a plum blossom dotted by some flying snow.
"Junior Brother," she raised her head and called out, but she didn't know what to ask next, and her heart was at a loss.
Seven years had passed, and everything was different. She could still remember the way Lu Guiyan used to tie his hair up while practicing sword in the valley. The young man had his black hair tied high, his sword gleaming like water, and his white gauze flowing like a skirt.
The junior brother at that time was full of youthful vigor, and was definitely not like he is now, with his lips slightly pursed and a sense of alienation and indifference that is almost ascetic.
Over the past seven years, the world has changed, people and events have changed, but I never expected that I would be separated from my master forever.
Really? But the junior brother wouldn't lie to her.
Qing Guiyu became a disciple at the age of ten and grew up in Yaowang Valley.
She made a mistake. She should have cut off three fingers. Later, she saved all ten fingers and was expelled from the valley. When she bowed to her master, she raised her head and said to her brothers and sisters:
"The teacher's kindness is as deep as the sea and as heavy as the mountain."
Now, she was confused as to whether her master was killed by Shen Juansheng or by whom. This was not the time to think about these things.
But who came up with the idea of the Cold Marrow Technique, which uses ice to cover silk and blood to condense blades?
She was the ignorant and conceited girl named Qing Guiyu in Yaowang Valley seven years ago.
She was mourning and desperate. At this moment, she thought neither of Chen Juansheng nor of Lu Guiyan. What did the Tianji Pavilion, Yaowang Valley, ten thousand people, and ten thousand things have to do with her?
The master is dead. And she only thinks about herself.
If she had never existed in the world, if she had not secretly saved the young man who was infected with the cold poison, if she had not boasted about the idea of condensing ice and hanging silk in front of him -
The master of Yaowang Valley died suddenly due to the unique martial arts of Master Jinsheng.
Could it be possible that Master Jinsheng could escape responsibility?
Or in other words, can she really get away with it?
"I know what Miss Qing is thinking,"
Shen Juansheng suddenly spoke, his voice a little hoarse, and clasped her wrist tightly with such force that it hurt her.
He was still staring at her blankly, his eyes were misty, and the cinnabar needle marks at the end of his eyes looked even more enchanting in the moonlight, as if they were burning, which could make people's hearts tremble.
His face was as pale as paper, yet possessed a kind of sickly handsomeness. His black hair fell like a waterfall over his shoulders, making his expression seem even more fading.
"Miss Qing is thinking right now," he realized belatedly that he had used too much force, and spread his fingers slightly, chuckling softly, his voice trembling.
"Back then... if only you hadn't saved me, that would have been great."
This person is really too smart, thoughtful and observant, and his insight into people's hearts is painful.
Shen Jiansheng, who hadn't been holding her other hand, covered his mouth and began to cough. During this late-night exercise, the Cold Marrow Technique had a faint warning sign of backlash. The cinnabar needle marks grew increasingly vivid, until he coughed up some blood.
There were a few moments in his breath, when some suppressed, latent emotions, lingering in his blood, that were strong enough to churn on their own, were carefully and deliberately revealed by him.
Because of his morbidity, there was something surging and swirling in, something other than life force.
He raised his head from the blood between his fingers, and at that moment, it was as if the young man from the past was looking at her through such a tiny body.
Then he tilted his head, his black hair hanging down, and his expression was as sharp as that of Young Master Jin Sheng, as if he was ready to cut through bones with a knife.
Lu Guiyan raised his head and looked at the crescent moon in the sky. "You'll know sooner or later."
His voice was cool yet gentle, as penetrating as the rising moon. His expression was filled with deep regret, like a leaf falling from a cold pond, a snowy pond sinking in the murky waters. He glanced at her, his fingers tightening slightly, as if about to wipe her face, then finally releasing it, never raising his hand.
Qing Guiyu nodded, wiped her face with her hand, and found that she was already in tears.
Lu Guiyan looked down at her, his eyes deep and complex. His Adam's apple rolled slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but he remained silent.
"Little Brother," she couldn't help but tremble as she spoke, and before she finished her sentence, her voice was almost sobbing, "Let's go."
Shen Juansheng's fingers were still clasped around her wrist, their grip loosening slightly, but still holding her in place. His fingertips were icy cold, a remnant of the cold poison, yet a faint warmth seeped out the moment they touched her skin.
His black hair fluttered slightly in the night wind, and a few strands of hair fell in front of his forehead, covering some of the light in his eyes.
Moonlight filtered through his hair, casting tiny shadows on his pale face, making his expression even more gloomy and complex. His breathing was a little rapid, and his chest rose and fell slightly.
"Can you explain?" Qing Guiyu looked at him with bright eyes, and there seemed to be something stuck in his throat, and he spoke hoarsely.
Being looked at by her like this, Shen Juansheng seemed to tremble violently, and the murderous golden threads intertwined in his black hair, casting tiny shadows.
Then he smiled with a sigh,
"No, Miss Qing." Young Master Jinsheng lowered his eyes, his body trembling slightly, and the hand he was holding on her was shaking a little.
"You know nothing, that's the best."
Qing Guiyu nodded, sighed briefly, and a complex emotion flashed in his eyes.
With Lu Guiyan's swordsmanship, he should be able to protect her from getting out, but Master Jin Sheng and the Tianji Pavilion will definitely try their best to fight back.
She looked around at the pools of blood and corpses on the ground.
"Chen Juansheng, you know, I really don't want this to happen." She hesitated for a moment, "I cherish my life the most. So I don't want to die now."
Then she shifted her gaze to Master Jin Sheng's hand holding hers.
To cure an illness, one must first seek the root cause. Medical books clearly state that strong medicine cures serious illnesses, and severe punishments stop chaos. If she continued to hesitate and hesitate, she would definitely not be able to face the most venomous snake in the world, Master Jinsheng.
So she stood up and said to Lu Guiyan,
"Little Senior Brother," she said after a pause, steeling her heart, "If I pass out later, please do whatever you need to do."
Lu Guiyan was a little confused by what she said. He glanced at her sideways and remained silent. He just raised his Wuwang sword while being surrounded on all sides.
The moonlight flowed on the sword coldly, like a white feather in the Langfeng wind, floating lightly with the waves.
She thought he had agreed, so she turned to look at Chen Juansheng and looked at his hand that was clasped behind his back.
"If you don't let go of my hand, I will cut off your wrist," she frowned, the tears on her face were not yet completely dry. She felt a little sad and reluctant.
"Grab the forearm and I'll cut it off."
As the ancients said, if you have a viper in your hand, you should cut it off to save your life. She never imagined that it would be her turn now.
Qing Guiyu took a deep breath, then put two fingers together, pressed the rings of his fingers, and with a few soft hissing sounds, he sealed the large acupoints below his shoulders and on his arms.
She wrapped the broken silk blade around her arm, and with a slight sound, she tightened the other end and pulled it into the hand holding the green bamboo.
"Let go." Then he looked directly at him and shouted in a low voice, "Mr. Shen."
"If I completely cut off this arm, how can I cure your cold poison?"
The silk blade was sharp. Even if she didn't use any cold skills, it was still enough to cut her sleeve with just a little strength, revealing the winding scars where her tendons and veins had been cut.
The scar went straight up from the wrist bone, passed the center of the elbow, circled and buried in the shoulder armpit. Under the bright moonlight, the concave and convex parts were reflected, and it was so deep that it was shocking.
"Miss Qing," he was still staring at him blankly. When her wide black sleeves were lifted by the night wind, the golden threads wrapped around her wrist bones were exposed, and spots of bright red were seeping out of her arms.
The blood flowed down along the crystal thread and was blown up by the night wind, appearing to be a continuous stream all the way to the sky, with red color flowing everywhere.
"You always..."
Shen Jiansheng covered his mouth and coughed, even his whole body swaying in the wind like a candle flame, but he still stubbornly held her wrist.
Then he smiled, his expression somewhat sad.
"Your master... Medicine King Valley Master, was not killed by me."
Hearing what he said, Qing Guiyu held the broken silk thread in his hand, nodded, and then shook his head.
“Shen Tianji, you didn’t kill my master.”
But this was what Master Jin Sheng meant by protection. In this world, before his cold poison was cured, only she would not die. Everyone else's life could be planned, including Shen Sheng himself.
"But you kept me here for a few days," she said these words with great difficulty, mixed with some sorrow, and said them as calmly as possible between breaths.
"You knew he was going to die."
Compared to the boy's eyes covered with ice, her eyes were too bright.
Young Master Jin Sheng said nothing, simply staring at her. The cinnabar marks at the corners of his eyes, soaked in cold sweat, resembled a burnt-out candle in the snow, and the moonlight accentuated the sharper outlines of his pale face.
He coughed up blood, and his cold energy became even more difficult to use, and the hand holding her trembled even more.
The layers of gold on the eaves of the inn flickered faintly under the bright sunshine of the osmanthus tree, as if they were the rustling moonlight.
Young Master Jinsheng lowered his head, his black hair falling down.
"You can go now." After a long time, he finally spoke, his voice gloomy and hoarse, as light as a sigh, with a softness that was almost desperate.
Shen Yansheng repeated it again, still calling her, "Miss Qing."
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