Chapter 44 Yang Xuexin: Because of his courage, she was willing to gamble...
Iron Hand met her gaze.
Xuexin instinctively pulled her hands back from her sides, her eyes trembled, and she shook her head, tears streaming down her face.
Seeing her like this, Song Ju felt that it explained everything.
He glanced indifferently at Iron Hand, only to find him walking slowly but firmly toward the female ghost.
"Don't come any closer," Xuexin murmured, swaying as she backed away.
There are many people in the world who rise to the challenge, but Yang Xuexin is only good at retreating.
Iron Hand stood there, bitter juice churning in his mouth, leaving only a bitter aftertaste.
His expression remained calm, but a glint of emotion flickered in his eyes, and he said in a hoarse voice, "Ah Xue, don't push me away."
Don't resist me, don't distance yourself from me.
Xuexin stared into Tieshou's eyes, his pupils trembling with fear, as if this were the next hell.
Her inner world was a desolate wasteland, devoid of any meaning to linger.
She is even less likable; who would like a long, rainy winter month?
Iron Hand looked at her shifting gaze and trembling eyelashes, as if he could hear her unspoken words through this small window.
He suddenly asked, "Ah Xue, do you know what honeysuckle vine is?"
Honeysuckle.......?
Xuexin tried to find the answer in his eyes, but her gaze hesitated for only a moment, a moment that represented hesitation, contradiction, and a faint hope.
In that instant, Iron Hand stepped forward and carried her on his back.
Her frail body pressed against Iron Hand's shoulders, the weight on her back felt like carrying a thin sheet of paper, while the weight on her heart felt like an entire mountain of snow being poured onto her.
He looked at the road burning with black flames and suddenly felt a sense of peace.
He sighed inwardly, wondering if he could walk down one road to the end, and then walk down another road until they grew old together.
Xuexin gripped the shirt around his neck and shoulders so tightly that she almost tore the rough linen to shreds.
Her thoughts were scattered and chaotic, her mind in such a state of turmoil that it was almost at a standstill.
Until that delicately embroidered pear leaf came into view, and the lush lamplight and thick soup hit my heart, my heart was completely stirred up.
She seemed to finally wake up, and struggled and pounded on his back in a panic, "No, put me down!"
That's the Soul-Burning Fire.
His rough, large hand pressed down on her thigh, which was rubbing and struggling, and the warmth of her blood seeped through her flesh and touched her heart.
Iron Hand walked forward without saying a word, slowly but steadily.
A wave of scorching heat hit him, and Xuexin shook his shoulder frantically, "I can walk by myself."
"That's the Soul-Burning Flame! Have you lost your mind...? Tie Youxia, what does this have to do with you?"
As she spoke, her voice began to choke with emotion, for Iron Hand was getting closer and closer to the blazing fire.
Her eyes were filled with two kinds of fear, one on each side, and her fingertips had unknowingly dug into the back of the iron hand. "I'll walk by myself."
This time, however, Tie Youxia will not do as she wishes.
Thick tears welled up in Xuexin's eyes. Looking at his dark, bright eyes from behind, a resolute light shone within them.
She took a deep breath and said in a thick nasal voice, "Are you so sure I've never done anything wrong? You're not me, so what gives you the right...?"
What makes you so sure you trust her? What makes you so sure you're willing to gamble like this?
Iron Hand's eyes softened, and he said with unbelievable gentleness, "Because I grew eyes myself."
This one sentence says it all.
A tear instantly soaked her clothes, and with red eyes, she asked, "I am a ghost, aren't you really afraid that I will do evil and hurt people in the future?"
“With me here, I won’t let anyone bully you. You are kind by nature, so you will never hurt anyone.”
"What if I still hurt someone?"
He turned his head slightly, glancing at her with his moist peripheral vision, and said with difficulty, "Then it was my fault. I didn't take good care of you. If someone bullies or insults you, and you fight back, that's not considered evil. But I'm a constable. As long as I'm alive, you can come to me. I will definitely follow the law and get back at you for what you've been bullied and insulted."
Through the misty fog, Xuexin saw his clear eyes and finally found the answer.
This is a one-of-a-kind pebble that can only be found by searching diligently by the stream for a long time.
Peel it open, and you'll uncover a heart as clear as crystal.
Getting close to it is, in a way, getting close to the soul's final resting place.
"Yang Xuexin," Xuexin said softly in a hoarse voice the instant Tieshou stepped onto the path of reincarnation, "My name is Yang Xuexin."
The names of the ghosts were intertwined with their lives, and at this moment, she willingly handed over her past and future to him.
Because of his courage, she was willing to take the gamble.
The ferry crossing, which they had searched for in vain, finally opened to Iron Hand.
The fire beneath his feet slowly burned his soul, causing him to break out in a fine sweat on his forehead, yet a smile still crept onto his lips.
The black flames scorch the soul, a pain where every step leads to another layer of inferno. They burn with the intent to char the skin and rot the bones, to drive the mind to madness, and to instill resentment in the beings that dwell upon them.
The fire didn't hurt Xuexin, but she was in unbearable pain.
She clung tightly to Iron Hand's neck, wanting to beg for mercy and cry out in pain.
Through the dark sea of fire, she looked into those cold, indifferent eyes, and the resentment and hatred that ignited in her heart instantly stirred up the lingering grudges from the past.
Countless images rapidly cycled before Iron Hand's eyes, the past and the searing pain surging forth together.
...
A slender, delicate finger poked a hole in the window paper, and a howling wind suddenly blew in. A snowflake dampened the fingertip; it was so cold.
She withdrew her hands, which were red from the cold, stood on tiptoe, and looked out through the small window at the thin snowflakes drifting by.
The courtyard was silent, even exuding a heavy, deathly atmosphere. Fortunately, some lively laughter from the neighboring courtyard drifted in from the base of the wall.
The maidservant waiting outside said enviously, "Madam is playing in the snow with the second young lady again. The courtyard next door is so lively, unlike our courtyard."
Seeing her downcast and envious expression, another maid advised, "Second Miss loves to get soaked in the snow, so let's not even think about it. Didn't you hear what the doctor said the other day? This one will live to be twenty at most. If she follows our Miss, she'll be lucky to avoid getting a few more nights of colds in this freezing weather."
"The master and madam have really done something terrible. Fortunately, the second young lady is lively and healthy, and so lovable."
Xuexin's once bright eyes dimmed, and she silently turned around, lay back on the bed, hugged the quilt tightly, and stared blankly.
Footsteps sounded softly, and the pungent smell of medicine wafted through the air. Xuexin looked up and suddenly asked, "Mother used to come to see me every day, why hasn't she come lately?"
Seeing that she was small and buried in the brocade quilt, the maidservant made up a story, saying, "Madam has been busy these days, so Miss should rest and recuperate."
But I miss my mother.
So she said timidly, "I also want to get soaked in the snow."
Upon hearing this, the maid let out a heavy sigh, forced a smile, and said disapprovingly, "Miss, please don't cause any more trouble for Madam."
She placed the empty medicine bowl back on the tray and quickly turned to leave.
The door closed more loudly than usual.
Xuexin gripped the corner of the blanket tightly, gazing at the small window opening in the distance, as if trying to see through it to some distant horizon.
The next moment.
The glue and window paper were pasted on thickly, completely blocking out the clattering noises of complaints from outside the door.
She was ten years old that year.
......
A weak cough suddenly broke out, short and timid. After only a few coughs, her forehead was covered in a cold sweat, and she was shivering before the wind could even blow on her.
The frail girl inside the curtain gasped for breath, trying to call for help, but no matter how she called, no one came.
Her eyes, as always, welled up with tears, but these tears did not touch anyone's heart.
The green pines have faded, and I have long since tasted the coldness and indifference of kinship and human relationships.
She clutched the corner of the blanket, tears streaming down her face as she looked at the dark bed curtains.
The thing in the world that least wants to make her cry is her pillow.
Because it will get moldy sooner or later.
A sweet taste rose in her throat again, and she reached under the pillow to feel around.
With a heavy cough, blood-red plum blossoms bloomed on the handkerchief.
Finally, she sadly clutched it in her hand.
She was sixteen years old that year.
......
The scene changes.
The elegantly dressed lady sat gracefully by the bed; her face was beautiful, showing that time had not been kind to her.
At this moment, her expression was flat, not calm, but rather like an empty shell left behind.
The air was so still that only the sound of breathing could be clearly heard.
One person looked down at the embroidery on the brocade quilt, while the other stared at a point in the void; their gazes never met.
Just as Xuexin coughed and her body trembled violently, a corner of a handkerchief slipped off her pillow.
The lady listened to the cough numbly; she had heard it enough over the years.
That voice used to be her nightmare, but that's all in the past now.
She lowered her head and saw the handkerchief embroidered with red plum blossoms. Suddenly, as if finding an outlet for her breath, she let out a heavy sigh, then pursed her lips and said, "Why are you embroidering these things again? I told you to take good care of yourself. What's the use of embroidering these?"
Xuexin's gaze moved from the red plum blossom to her red lips, which were delicately rouged.
She pretended to be calm as she watched those red lips open and close, while letting the stinging pain linger in her eyes.
She refused to shed tears, but she also refused to look away.
Embroidery is useless, medicine is useless, raising her to adulthood and treating her illness is even more useless.
She couldn't know any more clearly.
Was that heavy, breathy sound because the embroidery was so unbearable for her? She knew it wasn't.
She was seventeen years old that year.
......
"The palace has issued an edict to bestow the title of Consort upon Xue Ning." The noble lady paused for a moment, seemingly unsure how to continue.
She glanced at the empty medicine bowl on the table, and suddenly, as if she had gained confidence, said, "Go in Xue Ning's place. You know that person is already... You are, after all, Aning's sister, and you can't just stand by and watch her die. You two can keep each other company."
That person was already on her deathbed, and Xuexin never imagined that she would say such a thing.
For the first time in so many years, her eyes trembled with tears as she searched for those phoenix eyes.
They looked at each other, and she turned her phoenix eyes down as if burned. "Don't blame me. You know you won't live past twenty. Can you bear to see me lose my two daughters?"
By the time she finished speaking, she was able to lift her eyes, her gaze unwavering.
Xue Xin gazed into that look for a long time, tears streaming down her reddened eyes.
I am not your daughter.
Seeing that she wouldn't budge, the lady couldn't help but complain, "Are you really that afraid of death? How much more time could it take... How can you be so heartless? That's your own sister."
"Over the years, I've provided you with food and clothing. Do you know how much it costs just to buy your medicine each year?"
Xuexin interrupted her, "I'm not afraid of death,"
To live to a hundred without illness or disease only prolongs this torment.
At this moment, she was unaware that she did not die from the predetermined serious illness, but from the delusional thought that would kill her a thousand times over and still not learn its lesson.
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