"Where's Zhuohua?" Cheng Muyun strode in, his boots making a cold, hard sound as they rolled over the blue bricks, his eyes icy.
Xu Jixin sat up straight, wrapped tightly in the animal skin, and tucked his neck into the fur collar. "I'm discussing matters with Father in the study."
His gaze swept over Cheng Muyun. "She seemed to have lost her soul after leaving Baiyun Temple. Usually, she keeps her distance from her father, but today—the two of them seem to have endless things to talk about."
Cheng Muyun's Adam's apple bobbed slightly: "What did you send me here for?" His voice sounded as if it had been pulled from an ancient, frozen well, even the end of his words carried a chill.
Xu Jixin's knuckles, gripping the heater, suddenly turned white, and his blood seemed to flow backwards instantly.
He slammed the gilded brazier to the ground. The bronze brazier hit the blue bricks with a dull thud, sparks flew everywhere, and the animal skin blanket was roughly overturned on the ground.
He sprang up like a caged beast, rushing towards Cheng Muyun in three strides, his index finger almost poking the other's brow bone: "What did I send you here for? Aren't you Zhuohua's husband?"
His chest heaved violently, his heavy breathing hitting Cheng Muyun's face. "She was crying at the entrance of Baiyun Temple, saying she didn't want you to die! What the hell did you do behind Zhuohua's back! That made her so scared!"
Cheng Muyun remained unmoved, a cold frost rising in his eyes, and his thin lips parted slightly: "I have been to Baiyun Temple."
As he paused, a sudden gust of wind howled outside the hall, rattling the window frames.
"Master Yunxu said that Zhuohua and I were not husband and wife." He looked at Xu Jixin's suddenly wide eyes, his tone was frighteningly calm, "If you force yourself to continue, you will either die or be seriously injured."
Xu Jixin was stunned for a moment. Thinking of the many times the two held hands, how could two people who loved each other so much not be suitable?
Xu Jixin declared that he wanted to find a soulmate. He was so convinced of this because he was moved by the love between Xu Zhuohua and Cheng Muyun, and he believed that true love existed in the world.
Now, out of nowhere, a charlatan has appeared, saying the two can't be together, and those two fools actually believe him!
Isn't it said that it's better to tear down ten temples than to have one marriage?
Why does this charlatan always do things that are morally reprehensible?
"Are you fucking stupid?" Xu Jixin's temples throbbed, and his knuckles gripped Cheng Muyun's collar, making a rustling sound as the fabric tore.
"You believe in such superstitious nonsense? Is this some excuse you made up because you've wanted to break up with Zhuohua for a while?" His eyes were bloodshot, and his nose almost bumped into the other person's, his breath forming a mist between them.
Cheng Muyun was pulled forward slightly, his clothes askew, while Xu Jixin's other hand was already clenched into a fist, ready to smash it into the face he wanted to tear apart at any moment.
"Shut the hell up!" Xu Jixin gritted his teeth. "If you don't want to be with Zhuohua, you don't need to make up such a lame excuse. The Xu family can bring Zhuohua back right now!"
Cheng Muyun suddenly laughed, but his laughter was tinged with an unyielding bitterness.
He looked down at Xu Jixin's reddened wrist. His usually calm eyes were now churning with turbulent waves, like a desolate desert swept by a raging storm, barren and shrouded in sparse vegetation.
“I dream of growing old with Zhuohua,” he suddenly grabbed Xu Jixin’s wrist with surprising force, “How could I not want her? Others may not know, but don’t you know?”
Xu Jixin did indeed know.
Xu Jixin's hands suddenly began to tremble.
Memories flooded back—last autumn, Cheng Muyun knelt on the bluestone slab of the Cheng Mansion, soaked to the bone. Water streaks mixed with mud, running from his military boots, soaked the family crest embroidered with gold thread.
Governor Cheng, holding his cane, cursed, "Merchants value profit over parting," while the usually arrogant second young master of the Cheng family stubbornly knelt in the cold wind for seven whole days.
Seeing the bloodshot eyes in Cheng Muyun's eyes, Xu Jixin's fingers gradually lost their strength.
He recalled the rumors that filled the city when the Cheng family took over the Dongxing South Line: the intercepted goods, the burned shops, the covetous foreigners—everyone was eyeing the Xu family, all of them were hungry wolves, waiting to devour the Xu family, this sheep waiting to be slaughtered.
Cheng Muyun was willing to wade into this mess for Zhuohua's sake.
"Why is that?" Xu Jixin loosened his grip on the collar, looking at Cheng Muyun's increasingly pale face, and suddenly felt a tightness in his throat.
Why was Zhuohua crying so bitterly?
The two shadows were stretched and torn apart on the wall, seemingly like a prophecy torn apart by fate.
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