indulge
The wind chimes tinkled softly outside the window, like a declaration of Qi Yuan's intrusion into his world, day after day.
Jiu Che found himself adapting to and becoming addicted to this disrupted tranquility at an alarming rate.
He would subconsciously listen to the rhythmic tinkling sound during breaks in his cultivation. If the wind stopped and the bells fell silent, he would feel something was missing and find it difficult to concentrate. He grew accustomed to the figure in the study that didn't belong to him, carrying a cool fragrance, and to her occasionally "accidentally" knocking over a teacup or "unintentionally" splashing ink on his sleeve, then wiping it away for him with a sly apology.
He even began to look forward to her "sudden whims".
That day, she squeezed next to him, clutching a crudely drawn folk tale book that she had clearly just bought from the market, insisting on reading it to him. The story was clichéd, the language colloquial, a far cry from the sharp insights she occasionally displayed. Jiu Che should have found it annoying, but when she imitated the exaggerated dialogue of the lovesick men and women in the book in her clear voice, he couldn't help but chuckle softly.
The laughter was soft, yet it abruptly stopped Qi Yuan's reading.
She turned her head, as if she had discovered something new and interesting, her eyes shining brightly: "Your Highness, you smiled!"
Jiu Che paused slightly, raising his hand to touch the corner of his lips, where the upward curve still lingered. How long had it been since he had smiled so naturally?
“Your Highness has a beautiful smile,” Qi Yuan put down his storybook, rested his chin on his hands, leaned closer to him, and stared unabashedly at his face. “You should smile more often in the future.”
Her approach carried a familiar, cool fragrance, and her words were so direct they made his ears burn. He wanted to avoid her overly scorching gaze, but his body seemed frozen in place. The icy field in his heart was melting rapidly under her daily noise and warmth, merging into a rippling spring water that even he himself found unfamiliar.
He knew perfectly well that he was deviating from the composure and self-control expected of a fox prince, and was gradually sinking into a dangerous yet tempting vortex brought about by a mysterious and unconventional fairy servant.
But he was powerless to resist, nor did he want to resist.
Meanwhile, the battle within Qi Yuan's heart was far more intense than Jiu Che could have imagined.
His downfall was the outcome she had planned. But when all of this was presented so realistically before her eyes, when she saw him smile because of her unintentional action, when she felt his unreserved, pure, almost clumsy trust, a strong feeling called "guilt" wrapped around her heart like vines, tightening more and more.
She began to feel afraid.
It wasn't fear of the plan being exposed, but fear of seeing those clear eyes shatter upon learning the truth. Fear that the pure snowfield called "Nine Clear Land," which she had ignited with her own hands, would ultimately be burned to ashes of despair by the demonic flames she brought.
The ruthlessness that had been maintained for a thousand years showed signs of loosening at this moment.
On one occasion, she "accidentally" overheard two elders discussing the demon race's recent unusual silence, suspecting they had bigger schemes. One of the elders even mentioned the name "Demon Lord Qi Yuan," his tone filled with fear and hatred.
At that moment, Qi Yuan could almost hear the cold flow of her own blood. She should have felt proud and excited. But when she subconsciously looked at Jiu Che beside her, she found him looking down at a scroll of array diagrams, his brows displaying a tranquility and focus that belonged to a prince of the immortal race, something that had nothing to do with her.
Her heart felt as if it had been stabbed hard by something.
That night, she stood alone on the highest eaves of Tingxue Garden, letting the cold night wind blow over her. The secret message from the Demon Palace turned to ashes at her fingertips, its content simply urging her to speed up her actions.
"Seize the Crystal Heart quickly, the demon army is ready to go."
A few words, yet they carry immense weight.
She closed her eyes, but what came to mind was the scene of Jiu Che expending his immortal power to bring the withered trees in the garden back to life because of her words, "This flower is beautiful"; the scene of him unhesitatingly giving her the only warm jade that could alleviate her (pretended) old wounds; and the pure smile on his face when he listened to the vulgar story, a smile that made her heart tremble.
Destroy him...
This idea, which once excited her, now brings her excruciating pain.
What exactly is she doing?
In a meticulously planned scam, she was originally the only actor and spectator. But why, now that she's acted out the whole thing, investing her true feelings and feeling the pain, does it seem like she's the one who's become the one in it?
The fingernails dug deep into the palm, bringing a sharp pain, but it was nothing compared to the chaos in my mind.
She began to deliberately avoid certain contacts with Jiu Che, no longer approaching him as recklessly as before. She needed space, she needed to calm down, and she needed to rebuild her seemingly softening heart.
However, her aloofness made Jiu Che, who had become accustomed to her presence, feel distinctly uneasy.
He would cast a questioning glance at her when she was silent; he would stare at the direction she left in silence for a long time when she excused herself from leaving early on the pretext of feeling unwell.
His world had long been accustomed to her clamor.
When the commotion suddenly subsided, what remained was an even more agonizing silence, and a premonition of impending loss that he had not yet fully understood but had already begun to panic about.
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