Perhaps the task the system had given her was simply too much to handle.
The moment Xia Ji fell asleep, she had a dream that would make anyone's face turn red.
She and the young man were holding hands, fingers intertwined. Xia Ji sat stiffly, her entire body and face burning hot. She lowered her head to see Bujing Nu buried against her chest.
His slightly red lips and tongue extended out, a striking contrast of red and white against her skin. Xia Ji's body went weak, tightly restrained by the already ill-intentioned young man. She wanted to slump sideways but couldn't even manage that, and at her ear, she could faintly hear his soft laughter.
The ties at the woman's chest had already been loosened by more than half.
The dark-haired young man pressed down upon the sleeping woman, licking and gently grinding with his teeth. He smelled a fragrance—it was Hangiang's scent, the pleasant aroma of a woman. The more he did this, the closer he pressed against her, the more pronounced the fragrance became, melting into his very bones and marrow, carrying him toward a warm haven he had never set foot in, never had any connection to.
The unfamiliar stimulation blanked Bujing Nu's mind for a moment. His black pupils contracted, a clear flush spreading across his face. His fingertips wanted to pull down her clothes, but the unfamiliar stimulation was too intense.
His body underwent a change.
This change had also occurred during the day before, but he hadn't paid it any mind. When his master learned of it, he gave him a pill and told him that once he took it, his body would return to normal.
He was simply sick.
But now, this strange change had come again.
He didn't dare move.
The life of a Death Soldier was sealed off in a way ordinary people could hardly imagine.
Raised by the imperial court, most of them were shut away in the mountains from childhood, completely uncultivated. Every day was eating, sleeping, learning how to kill, receiving orders, and going out to kill.
Kill, kill, kill. They often didn't know who they were, didn't even know what they were. Their self-perception was extremely distorted.
Although Bujing Nu had a master and could speak with others, his master was also bizarre in temperament.
His master had a human body and human appearance, yet taught inhuman "knowledge." The most important thing for a Death Soldier was to never regard oneself as human.
Not human—an executioner, an obedient "dog." Human nature was strangled at the root. Many Death Soldiers had their faces burned beyond recognition in childhood. When they looked in the mirror and saw that unrecognizable face, they still wouldn't think of themselves as human. Such Death Soldiers rarely lived past twenty, dying from all sorts of missions.
But Bujing Nu was different. From childhood, his cognition had been extremely muddled, a chaotic blank. When killing, his mind was utterly focused. For this reason, he was deemed worthy of cultivation, even allowed to show his face on missions, so there was no need to slash his face apart.
The first time he looked at himself in a mirror, his master had smeared the blood of the man he'd just killed across his face.
His face was dripping with blood, blurred and indistinct. He didn't know who he was.
But he knew that if he developed curiosity toward the outside world, he ought to die. He would be failing His Majesty, failing his master, failing the court.
The dagger in his sleeve was almost instantly drawn out. He gripped it tightly, his phoenix eyes wide open, the ice-cold blade pressed against Xia Ji's neck—yet he hesitated, unmoving.
Instead, it was Xia Ji who woke up.
The dagger was far too cold, and its chilling killing intent made her jolt awake, her whole body trembling.
—She had been startled awake from a rosy, amorous dream.
"Ah…" In the dim darkness, Xia Ji met Bujing Nu's gaze. Both of them widened their eyes. Xia Ji snapped to her senses, her scalp tingling, and hastily cried out: "What are you doing?!"
"I…"
Caught off guard by her blunt questioning, Bujing Nu's thoughts went blank. Almost as usual, he only wanted to follow his instinct to kill. To him, the Xia Ji before him was too unfamiliar—everything about her was unfamiliar, and she had caused his body to undergo such a strange change.
An unfamiliar change. Was he sick? Having undergone a change, he ought to atone, ought to die.
"I… I'll kill you…" His voice was naturally soft, but at this moment, it sounded like terrifying mutterings from a nightmare.
"Why? Wait—no!" Xia Ji frantically grabbed his hand. Her soft warmth made his whole body pause.
"Don't touch me." His phoenix eyes were wide open, fixed on her, and the dagger pressed deeper.
"Okay, okay, okay, I won't touch you, but don't you dare move!" Xia Ji's scalp was about to explode. "Why do you want to kill me? I was just lying here sleeping."
"Is it… is it because my sleeping posture is too ugly?" Xia Ji raised both hands in a complete surrender pose, her naturally gentle face full of terror. "Or was my snoring too loud?"
"No. Hangiang looks very beautiful when she sleeps."
Xia Ji: ?
"I'm not asking you whether I look good when I sleep. I'm asking you—if I didn't do anything, why do you want to kill me?"
Xia Ji's mind raced at lightning speed. "Did I steal your blanket? Or were you too tired when you came back, and seeing me asleep made you angry enough to want me dead? If that's the case, then I won't sleep anymore from now on—I'll wait for you to come back first—"
"Too noisy."
His gaze was uncontrollable, fixed on her soft lips opening and closing. Knife in hand, he leaned in close, and Xia Ji suddenly didn't dare speak. Her almond-shaped eyes were wide open, and he was very close to her.
The two were nearly breathing the same air.
Xia Ji could tell that Bujing Nu's breathing was somehow unsteady at this moment.
Something must be going on.
Something she didn't know about…?
If this had happened before, maybe she could have hugged him and things would have gotten better, but he wouldn't let her touch him, and when she kissed him, he said she was trying to eat him.
Xia Ji was on the verge of tears, feeling like she was playing a horror game with no difference at all.
Looking at the beautiful young killer before her, tears welled up in Xia Ji's eyes layer by layer: "If—if you can't stand the sight of me, then just throw me out… okay?"
"I won't follow you anymore from now on—"
"If you don't follow me, who will you follow?"
These words somehow struck a nerve in him. His large phoenix eyes reflected Xia Ji's terrified image, and a cold killing intent suddenly surged forth. Xia Ji's whole body froze—it was an indescribable feeling. She bit her lip, completely unable to bear it anymore.
"What are you doing…! I finally fell asleep! And you scare me like that again! What are you doing?!" Tears streamed down her face. Xia Ji felt utterly wronged, her almond-shaped eyes pouring out tears. "What did I even do to you?!"
Her sudden shout startled Bujing Nu into a pause. His dark eyes stared fixedly at her. He didn't know why, but he had never needed a reason to kill.
Only orders.
And Hangiang made him feel a kind of fear.
This fear was utterly foreign to him. He didn't understand it, but he knew he should kill her, because that's what his master would do.
The youth gripped the dagger and raised his hand. His strength wasn't particularly great among Death Soldiers or generals, and he wasn't tall either—he always completed missions with extreme speed and ruthless force. But at this moment, he merely held up the dagger, making no move for a long while.
Kill her.
Kill Hangiang, and there would be no more Hangiang in this world. The dead don't wake up, don't speak, have no warmth, rot and grow maggots—he knew this better than anyone.
He stared at the girl's soft hair. Tonight, his dagger had easily pierced through many people's heads, but at this moment, the girl raised her head.
Xia Ji was soft-natured, with fair skin. Even when she said nothing and just lay around like a soft pancake, she was a soft pancake that was easy to bully—looking at her, she seemed very easy to knead and squeeze.
But at this moment, the girl's tear-filled almond eyes held both resentment and anger. She glared at him furiously. When Bujing Nu remained motionless, Xia Ji's temper flared up.
"You want to kill me just because you can't stand the sight of me? Well, I can't stand the sight of you either! Who do you think you are?! You can just kill people because you don't like them?! You can go straight to hell! I'm never being nice to you again! I'll hate you forever, and I'm sick of you!"
Xia Ji was so angry that she clenched her fists and pounded him twice with "bang bang" sounds. Seeing that Bujing Nu still dared to loom over her, she frowned and shoved him, then rolled over to face the wall. Realizing what she'd just done, she trembled with fear all over and turned back to glare at Bujing Nu.
But all she saw was the youth in the bleak night, wearing white coarse cloth, his ink-black hair hanging down. He seemed like a puppet whose strings had suddenly been cut. One hand holding the dagger, his eyes stared blankly at her—dark pupils eerie, skin too pale, his expressionless face looking utterly terrifying. Xia Ji was so frightened she forgot to turn back around.
"Hate me… sick of me? Forever?" he murmured softly, moving toward her. "Hangiang will hate me forever, be sick of me forever, never be nice to me again? Why? I don't want that…"
His voice was very soft, and the hand gripping the dagger reached out to push her: "Hangiang, I don't want that, I don't want that, I don't want that…"
Xia Ji frowned deeply as he pushed her. Her heart raced as she clutched the bedding beneath her, feeling that Bujing Nu was eerily strange: "You want to kill me and I'll hate you forever—so what?! I just won't be nice to you anymore—so what?!"
"I don't want that…" He shook his head, his eyes still fixed intently on her, drawing closer and closer. His usually gentle voice now sounded almost pleading: "I want Hangiang to still think I'm good even if I kill her."
"You're sick—I'm not!" What he said was truly insane. Xia Ji steeled herself and cursed at him in anger. Just then, a thunderclap sounded outside, startling her. She only then realized it had been drizzling outside all along, and now the rain suddenly grew heavier.
The youth seemed to become a blurry shadow in the rain. He sat with his head bowed, still murmuring pitifully: "Forever… forever…?"
"Forever?"
He suddenly raised his head, and the feeling was completely different from before. Xia Ji's hairs stood on end in an instant. Her eyes flew wide open: "Bujing Nu!"
The youth tightened his grip on the dagger, staring at her. "Kill Hangiang, and it'll be over. Once you're dead, you won't think about anything anymore. There's no forever. There won't be a forever."
Xia Ji had no way of knowing that for a Death Soldier, every word spoken was irrevocable. The orders he received were never rescinded—whoever he was told to kill, he killed. The word "forever" was too distant, too foreign for Bujing Nu.
It filled him with dread.
His pitch-black pupils were hollow and empty, and goosebumps broke out across Xia Ji's skin. She suddenly raised her hand. "Wait!"
"No waiting. I won't wait. You're going to say you'll hate me and be annoyed with me forever again." He raised the dagger toward her, and as his arm lifted, it revealed a wrist covered in scars—hardly a patch of healthy skin left. Xia Ji caught a glimpse and was startled. She hurriedly ducked her head and fled, her whole body going weak with fear.
He wasn't fast, but he truly meant to kill her!
"I won't be annoyed with you! I won't hate you! But I have conditions!"
Seeing that Bujing Nu was about to come at her, Xia Ji hugged her pillow tightly and shrank into the corner. For a long moment, she heard nothing, and only then did she tremulously raise her head to look up.
Bujing Nu's gaze was very strange. He clutched the jade dagger in his hand, silent for a long time.
He only frowned, pressed his lips together, and looked at her as if on the verge of tears, leaving Xia Ji frozen in place.
"What conditions? Speak quickly." He seemed extremely restless, stabbing the bedding twice with his dagger.
Xia Ji's body was limp, but she sat up straight anyway. "Throw the dagger away."
Bujing Nu said nothing, and simply tossed the dagger to the ground.
With his blade gone, Xia Ji immediately felt much better. But Bujing Nu suddenly leaned close to her. "Is that enough? Then you won't be annoyed with me, won't hate me? Really—"
"Wait! There's more."
Bujing Nu seemed extremely agitated. When it came to dealing with people, he only understood the most basic principle: that he was useful, that he did his job, that he killed. His skill at killing was as effortless and practiced as a fishmonger gutting fish. But when it came to interacting with people, he couldn't even learn the fundamentals.
When Xia Ji had said "forever," the word had made him deeply uneasy, and even now he couldn't settle down. He was clearly beside himself with restlessness, frowning hard at her, wanting to come closer but not daring to. "Are you lying to me? Hangiang."
"I'm not lying to you. I haven't finished speaking yet." Xia Ji could also sense his agitation. Negative emotions like anxiety were always easily contagious, and she didn't know why Bujing Nu was so frantic—it seemed like ever since she'd said that line about hating him and being annoyed with him forever, he'd become extremely unsettled.
She was still very angry with him, true.
But Xia Ji knew what Bujing Nu was, and she could sense his strangeness even before this.
He had never interacted with anyone before. His way of living was extremely rigid and singular, like a child who had never made a friend. It was the same as before—when Xia Ji deliberately ignored him, he got angry.
"You—you kneel down." But Xia Ji was simply too furious. If she didn't make him do something, the anger in her heart would never subside.
Bujing Nu said nothing. He stared at her for a moment, then adjusted his posture and knelt before her. His phoenix eyes, for some reason, looked fragile, the rims tinged red.
"Do I need to kowtow?"
Xia Ji: "…"
"No kowtowing! Do you even know what you did wrong! What were you doing just now!"
Bujing Nu stared at her lips as they opened and closed. "Just now, I put my fingers in Hangiang's mouth."
Xia Ji: "?"
"Th-then I bit you? You can't possibly be upset just because of that—" Xia Ji was furious.
"No. It was warm. I liked it." He pressed his lips together. "Hangiang, please, don't stay so far away from me. Can I hold you while I say this? You being this far away from me… it's terrifying…"
He had just said he wanted to kill her.
And now he was saying he wanted to hold her. Xia Ji was afraid. She said nothing, and Bujing Nu let out a soft "mm," his fingers repeatedly twisting the fabric of his clothes until it was wrinkled.
"Is there more? What else do you want me to do? Hangiang, I'm a Death Soldier—His Majesty's Death Soldier. I'm very obedient. I'm the most capable of everyone. Whatever request you make of me, I'll find a way to fulfill it. Hangiang."
Xia Ji was stunned.
This was the first time Bujing Nu had ever mentioned his true identity to her.
She had actually sensed it before. His status as a Death Soldier must have been a secret, and she could tell from daily life that his obsessive strangeness meant he had no semblance of a normal life. And paired with that abnormality was his absolute loyalty.
She just hadn't expected that the one he served was the Emperor.
"Promise me this: from now on, when you come onto the bed with me, you're not allowed to bring any blades, weapons, daggers, short knives… any weapon that can hit or kill a person. You can't bring any of them onto the bed."
For a Death Soldier, this was absolutely forbidden.
Death Soldiers lived by their weapons. Especially in sleep—to be ready to wake at any moment for a mission, daggers were kept in their sleeves or under their pillows. Those skilled with longswords never let the blade leave their side; the sword lay right beside the bed.
Bujing Nu paused for a moment before pressing his lips together tightly. His dark, pitch-black pupils fixed on her as he tossed out the two daggers hidden in his sleeves and the short knife by the bedside, flinging them all to the ground across from him. Only then did he turn back to look at her. "Fine. Anything else?"
"There is…" Hearing the clatter of the blades striking the floor, Xia Ji's entire body went rigid. But since she had finally managed to make a request, she naturally intended to state all of them.
"No," he shook his head, looking stubborn and obstinate. "I want to hold Hangiang. Only then can Hangiang make more requests of me. Otherwise, I won't let you ask anymore."