Chapter 45 Honeysuckle and Winter Solstice Together He questioned himself, why did I arrive so late...
His cheeks were thin and his face was pale. He had been bedridden due to illness, and the cold had stagnated, causing his veins to appear faintly purplish-black.
However, he had a pair of very pure black eyes.
Even as life draws to a close and the organs and body begin to decay, the handsome features of his face remain as sturdy as a pine tree or bamboo.
He didn't seem like an emperor; rather, he seemed like a gentle but sickly scholar.
When they first met, he looked at Xuexin and lingered in her eyes for a long time.
Because they are so similar.
The only difference is that he is already past his prime, while the person in front of him may still be able to witness another cycle of spring and autumn.
They were like two withered seeds, washed away by fate and fallen into the mud. No one was willing to pick them up from the mud and properly plant and care for them.
Thus, they could only accept their fate as inferior seeds. In a loveless world, they awaited death like puppets, for it to annihilate everything.
Xuexin believed that this encounter was a rare snowfall that happened by chance in the frigid land.
Regardless of romance, simply holding a pair of equally cold hands is enough to bring a sense of peace.
Because the soul will say that there is another self within.
Both were born extraordinary, but in reality, they were just two ordinary people imprisoned in their beds by illness and worldly constraints, enduring their remaining years.
Even when confined to this small plot of land, he would quietly recite poems to her, give her brocade robes and silk skirts, and present her with jade bracelets and gold hairpins.
She still thought that this was love.
Before the end of the year, he vomited a lot of blood and lay weakly on the bed, looking at her.
Screams and the sound of kneeling suddenly rose up, and Xuexin knew that he would never recover.
This might be the last time we see each other.
At night, she wept as she looked out over the dark bed curtains.
Because the only person she believed truly cared for her in the world would leave before her.
But she miscalculated again.
That night, she received neither medicine nor a message from him, but only a white silk ribbon and a row of bone knives.
"In life, we share the same bed; in death, we share the same tomb. His Majesty is worried about the Empress. Lord Cao from the Imperial Observatory has offered a secret method that can enable the Empress to guard the dragon vein and nurture her spirit tomb, ensuring that they will never be separated for all eternity." The eunuch paused, looking at the row of bone knives laid out on the wooden tray, a hint of reluctance in his eyes.
He whispered, "His Majesty also feels that since we are going to die sooner or later, we might as well die a worthy death."
The palace doors were slammed shut, and inside, even more heart-wrenching cries for help rang out.
The sound grew fainter and fainter until it completely disappeared.
The blood flowed so freely that there was nowhere to step, and the thick, pungent stench was almost nauseating.
The eunuch frowned as he looked at the mess on the ground and said, "Lord Cao said to leave one finger bone intact, don't break it all."
"Godfather, this method is insidious. Won't it attract some unclean spirits?" the pale-faced eunuch beside him asked.
"There are plenty of dirty things going on in the palace. Besides, the imperial physician said that this person only has a year left to live, and will die sooner or later."
Upon hearing this, those who were busy working in the flesh and blood breathed a sigh of relief and suddenly felt enlightened.
Yes, anyway, she was going to die soon anyway.
......
The scene of dismembering bones and cutting flesh flashes back to the days and nights in the pitch-black cemetery where there is no light.
Where are there any sacred tombs deep in the mountains?
It's just that it's been nourished by all its flesh and blood.
Iron Hand stood in the ever-burning sea of fire, his eyes almost cracking from the pain.
This tough man had shed more tears in his entire life than he had today. A long trail of water trailed along the bluestone path beneath the flames, containing the fragments of his heart.
They can no longer be glued together.
The cycle of reincarnation gently turned a corner of Xuexin's past, but that was her entire life.
His chest felt as if it had been scalded with boiling water; his once intact organs had been reduced to a pile of rotten flesh. Otherwise, why couldn't he utter a sound?
Help!
The sharpest swords and blades attacked him all at once, slashing him until he was covered in blood; his throat and lips were completely ripped off.
Help! Why is no one saving Xuexin or loving Xuexin?
His once steady steps had become unsteady, and he even had to tense his whole body and use every inch of his bones to take the next step.
Who can save Xuexin, and save him too?
For the first time, he sincerely admitted it.
Tie Youxia is not afraid of death, but he is afraid of pain.
He tried desperately to say something, but he was too heartbroken to utter a single word.
He could no longer distinguish where the pain was coming from; he only felt pain all around him, pain everywhere.
The pain made him feel like he had stepped into hell.
As he took the final step out of the cycle of reincarnation, he saw himself in the flowing images.
Myself, confronting the crows.
I caught the blade barehanded.
Bleeding and injured myself.
He could hold on no longer; his legs buckled, and he knelt down. His back was completely bent under the weight of an invisible mountain. He lay prostrate on the ground, clutching Xuexin tightly, tears streaming down his face.
He questioned himself, "Tie Youxia, why are you so late?"
His tears were scalding hot, hotter than the flames that burn the soul.
Why is there no kind Ah Xue in the world to me?
For the first time, he felt resentment, resentment towards everyone in his past, and even resentment towards the world.
That was hell, that was Ah Xue's hell.
His arms were clenched so tightly they could barely move, his eyes were bloodshot and he could only repeat over and over, "I love you. Ah Xue, I love you."
His voice was not pleasant; it was hoarse beyond recognition. The scorching tears first burned his throat, then his heart, his back, and everything about him.
He just kept emphasizing, "I will love you forever."
"I'll take you to see the snow. I'll show you every snowfall."
"Ah Xue, how can I love you properly? Tell me, please tell me." He pleaded with her, his spine trembling, afraid that he was not giving her enough.
He knelt on the ground, wanting only to give her the best love in the world.
The world criticizes you, hates you, and has never seen you, but I will love you.
Yang Xuexin, I love you.
Xuexin looked at him, a streak of water falling to her collarbone, then down into her heart, while the one on her right side meandered down.
She had long since grown numb from her fall from grace; her beautiful appearance had given her countless fleeting moments of pleasure. But no matter how beautiful she was, no one shed tears for her.
Except for Tie Youxia.
She hated every day, hated why no one truly loved her, hated all the injustice, hated the unfairness of fate, hated her poor judgment of people...
As she looked at Tie Youxia's heavily heaving back, her tears grew heavier and heavier, until they could no longer be held back by her eyes.
She lowered her eyes, furrowed her brows, even wrinkled the tip of her nose, and choked out with trembling lips, "Tie, You, Xia."
She could no longer speak.
I don't know how to express it, nor do I know where to express it.
These three words are now her only connection to the world.
Iron Hand stiffly raised his head, his face looking worse than a dead man's, as if he had just recovered from a serious illness and was about to return to the world of the living from the brink of death.
His vision blurred, and his eyeballs felt like they were burned. He could only feel her tears splashing and hitting his wrist, hurting him badly.
He gently cupped Xuexin's thin face in his hands, his large palms enveloping her ears and silencing all the noise in the world.
He leaned closer, forehead to forehead, just like every time.
The two huddled together, tears mingling and flowing, sharing breath, trembling, and pain, inseparable.
"It's not your fault that you got a serious illness, Xue, it's their fault."
"I...I will never let anyone hurt you again."
"Ah Xue, I have so much love, I'm giving it all to you. Hundreds and thousands of times more."
His rambling vows finally brought tears to her eyes. In the past, she could only collapse heavily, sinking into her pillow and blankets. But now, in these iron grips, amidst his trembling words, she had finally reached the other shore.
She exhaled as if she had just learned to breathe, as if she wanted to expel all the tears, blood, and bitterness she had swallowed.
She heard her own voice barely audible: "What... it's honeysuckle vine."
"Ah Xue, frost and snow are nothing to worry about, we'll endure the winter together." Some people will like it, some people will like the cold winter months, they'll like the continuous rain. Others may not know, but Tie Youxia certainly does.
A taut string in my heart began to vibrate quietly.
Why is it that someone can always understand her unspoken words and perfectly capture all her emotions?
This feeling made her heart ache unbearably, and she clenched her iron-handed hair tightly, feeling so weak and helpless.
As Tequila watched the two wounded people huddle together, the pent-up anger in her heart finally found a moment of respite.
She took a deep breath, looked at the indifferent man, and said sarcastically, "You've completed your cycle of reincarnation and seen the afterlife. Are you satisfied now?"
Tequila thought that even if he didn't feel guilty or remorseful, he should at least admit to being prejudiced. To her surprise, he only said coldly, "It just means that she didn't hurt anyone before. That's why I didn't kill her immediately."
Upon hearing this, Agave was furious, her anger rising, and her indecisiveness was already on the verge of being uttered.
Xuexin cried out in alarm, "Shelan, stop!"
This man is a swordsman; though he acts with righteous principles, he is cold-hearted and his eyes are as sharp as knives. If a fight were to break out, Longshelan would either die or be seriously injured.
She now understands what it means to be like old friends even after growing old together, or to feel like old acquaintances at first sight.
She couldn't bear to see Agave risk its life for her.
Tequila felt unusually uncomfortable at being called that so affectionately. She subconsciously put away the small purple crossbow, her emotions caught in a limbo. All she could do was glare fiercely at the man holding the sword.
Iron Hand held Xue Xin tightly, almost shielding her with his entire body, and said in a low voice, "You said that you would let Xue Xin go after she safely completes the cycle of reincarnation. I hope you will keep your promise."
The man did not respond, but stared intently at Xue Xin with his eyes, as if scrutinizing and dissecting her inch by inch.
The standstill had gone on for so long that someone finally gave up.
"Song Ju, I can't take it anymore! Is there anyone in the world more cold-blooded and ruthless than you? You're not human, not even human!" A delicate and angry voice suddenly came from the purple sword.
The person inside stomped her feet, baring her teeth, like a cat that had been provoked. She threatened, "Song Ju! She's so pitiful. If you don't let her go, I'll run away from home! You'll never find a sword as powerful as mine again!"
Everyone was stunned, staring at the sword, unsure how to react.
However, the swordsman's expression did not change at all; he only coldly uttered three words, "Then get lost."
The voice within the sword choked, and could only grit its teeth and utter a harsh threat: "You...you just wait! You'll regret it when I find a better master!"
Song Ju ignored her, threw the sword on the ground, turned around and leaped out of the manor, ultimately letting Xue Xin go.
The sword, flashing with purple lightning, floated up and muttered insults in his direction. After it had finished cursing, it seemed to feel ashamed and suddenly flew away in the opposite direction.
The air froze completely, and the three of them stared at each other in bewilderment.
This life-or-death ordeal ended so abruptly and unhappily?
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The author says: Frost and snow are no obstacle, for honeysuckle endures the winter together. From "Twenty Poems on Plants and Trees in the Garden (No. 18) - Red Vine".
The flower language of honeysuckle is: I can dedicate myself to you.
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