That night, Sheng Muxue did not sleep well. He kept dreaming about the young Yun Zheng over and over again.
Back then, the young Yun Zheng was introverted and shy. He carefully held a jade pendant in his hands, kneeling before him, not daring to look him in the eye. “Master, today is your birthday.”
“This is something I bought specifically for you with five years of savings. I do not know if you like it.”
Perhaps because he was too nervous, he could not even finish his sentence.
Sheng Muxue took the pendant and discovered a golden plum blossom carved into it. It must have been carved by Yun Zheng himself after he bought the piece.
He naturally hung the pendant on his waist and joked halfheartedly, “Where did you get these savings? I am always penniless myself; how could you hide a private stash behind my back?”
Yun Zheng lowered his head, silent for a long time, before murmuring, “I occasionally go out to teach others sword techniques, so I saved some.”
He stopped halfway, burying his head even lower. “I saw that you were afraid of the cold, so I thought of buying a piece of warm jade. That way, you could feel warm at all times.”
Sheng Muxue finally realized why Yun Zheng had been acting so mysterious every few days. It turned out he had been picking up side jobs. He touched the texture of the jade with his fingertip. It was truly warm jade, just like Yun Zheng’s body temperature, a warmth that put one at ease. It must have been expensive.
“I like it very much.”
“However, since you have grown up and can earn money, the burden of supporting this household will be handed over to you from now on.”
“You must take good care of me. You cannot let down the years of raising you that I have invested.”
In the dream, Sheng Muxue smiled contentedly, his lips curving into a warm arc. Outside the dream, Sheng Muxue, lying on the bed, wore the same rare, relaxed smile.
At the same time, it was already late into the night, but the Nine Heavens Palace still burned with three thousand bright candles. Yun Zheng was busy with official duties, with piles of matters to process, even though he was to be married tomorrow.
Late at night, after finishing his work, Yun Zheng clutched the broken jade pendant in his hand. He suddenly remembered that he had not visited the Ice Crystal Chamber to see “Sheng Muxue” for many days. Ever since the real Sheng Muxue had returned, the frostbite on his own chest had finally healed.
In the end, he went to the Ice Crystal Chamber. However, this time, upon arriving before the ice coffin, he did not climb inside as he had done in the past. Instead, he stood before the coffin for a very long time, clutching that broken pendant.
The cold, eerie light drowned out all his emotions. The Xuan-scale fish swam around, repeatedly slapping against the ice walls, drawing him into memories of his youth.
Snap.
The young Yun Zheng knelt before Sheng Muxue, offering the jade pendant with both hands. Just as he raised his hands, he received a strike from a long whip, and a long, narrow bloodstain instantly appeared on his chest. The jade pendant was ruthlessly knocked to the ground.
“Today is my birthday. As my personal disciple, you only send me such a crude and boring item?” Sheng Muxue’s cold voice descended from his high seat, falling into Yun Zheng’s ears.
The agonizing pain caused Yun Zheng to tremble uncontrollably, yet he dared not utter a sound. If he made a sound, Sheng Muxue would only torture him more viciously. But perhaps Sheng Muxue was in a bad mood that day; even though Yun Zheng did not cry out, he still received a second, third, and fourth lash.
Sheng Muxue’s whip was no ordinary weapon; it was a magical artifact forged from bones. It injured more than just the skin; most importantly, it could tear through flesh and skin to rupture the spiritual meridians. Sheng Muxue did not stop until Yun Zheng was battered, his skin torn, with his very bones visible.
“Speak.”
But at this moment, let alone speaking, even breathing was extremely difficult for Yun Zheng. He had only a single breath left. He collapsed in a pool of blood, not a single piece of his flesh intact, his spiritual meridians nearly shattered.
That jade pendant still lay quietly less than an inch away from him. He struggled, using his final bit of strength to reach out, wanting to take back the pendant. But the moment his hand pressed down on it, it was trampled under a foot.
“The item, I have accepted.”
“Including your hands, I want them too.”
Sheng Muxue’s eyes were filled with mockery and the gaze one would give an ant. He pressed down with his foot, nearly crushing Yun Zheng’s entire finger bones.
Yun Zheng finally could not help but let out a pained cry, emitting a low, mournful sound. The pain was so intense that even he, who had never cried, had eyes turned terrifyingly red, shedding involuntary tears. His entire body was soaked in cold sweat and blood, the scene before him gradually blurring as shadows constantly flickered. Before his consciousness faded, he silently swore that if he ever managed to turn the tables, he would return every humiliation and torture he had suffered to that person tenfold.
The memory came to an abrupt end, severed as his consciousness dissipated. The younger version of himself had hated Sheng Muxue to the bone. That hatred was genuine, as clear and undeniable as white snow in the night.
Yet, the vow he once made had long since been fulfilled. Not only had he personally killed his enemy, but he also held the enemy’s body and soul firmly within his grasp, to be erased or avenged at will.
However, this was not the outcome he wanted.
A sharp blade suddenly materialized in Yun Zheng’s hand, and without hesitation, he plunged it into his own chest. Blood dripped onto the ice coffin along the blade, seeping through the thick ice and flowing into the coffin, finally being absorbed by Sheng Muxue’s cold, lifeless body.
After this, the ice crack on Yun Zheng’s chest became distinct. It was still frostbite. Yet, after absorbing Yun Zheng’s heart blood, Sheng Muxue’s face, which had been devoid of color, gradually turned rosy. The frost on his face disappeared.
In truth, there was no need for him to spend day after day nourishing Sheng Muxue’s body with his heart blood. As long as it did not rot, that was enough. Or even if it did rot, what did it matter?
But he remembered that Sheng Muxue was afraid of the cold. If it were not for his heart blood, Sheng Muxue would feel very cold… right? Perhaps even a corpse could not feel cold. After all, the soul was already gone.
Yun Zheng did not know what he was thinking or what he was doing. It was the same last time. Over and over, he did things against his own will that had no meaning. He even found himself wanting to marry his enemy. He wanted him to stay by his side forever; he wanted him to be his only spouse.
Regardless of how hysterical his hatred for him once was, after tomorrow, everything would return to zero.