After only a brief rest, Qin Changsheng wiped the sticky, slick mixture of blood and tears from her face and struggled to her feet, limping as she stood.
She couldn’t stay here, she absolutely couldn’t. Those people would eventually find her. If she lingered any longer and got caught, the scratches from the tree branches would be the least of her worries.
The ones with guns were likely after her life.
The forest was pitch black. The pale moonlight cast a ghastly pallor over Qin Changsheng’s face. With every slight movement, a searing pain shot through her leg.
Yet, leaning on a branch, she forced herself upright. The ancient tree beside her was covered in damp, slippery moss. She smeared the blood from her hands onto the trunk, leaned against it, and bit her lip, inhaling shallowly.
After catching her breath for a moment, she steadied herself and stumbled forward, step by step, deeper into the dense woods.
Suddenly, a gunshot echoed from the forest not far behind her. Qin Changsheng glanced back and saw flashes of white light in the distance, accompanied by the frantic barking of dogs.
Her heart sank. She hadn’t expected them to catch up so quickly!
Gripping a tree for support, she gritted her teeth and hobbled onward. Behind her, the barking of dogs and the shouts of men rose and fell in a chaotic chorus. A dog barked fiercely in her direction, and someone yelled, “There’s blood! Follow the trail of blood!”
Struggling, Qin Changsheng staggered forward in a desperate run. Reaching a slope, her foot slipped, and she lost her balance, tumbling downward.
The branches on the slope scratched her face, drawing blood. Qin Changsheng let out a soft groan and shielded her head. In a dizzying whirl, she rolled down the ravine and landed in the stream below.
The entire forest fell into an eerie silence.
A moment later, the vicious barking of the dogs abruptly ceased. After a frightened whimper, the sound of cracking skulls followed.
A man’s scream pierced the unnervingly quiet woods, startling flocks of birds into flight. Amid the chaotic flapping of crows, the scream was cut short, as if stifled in a crushed throat, emitting a muffled, grotesque sound.
Qin Changsheng lay in a pool of blood, her eyes closed, her body growing colder.
Blood trickled down her forehead, dampening her eyelashes and sticking to her skin.
In this near-death moment, she felt an unexpected sense of peace.
It was as if she had returned to the ordinary life she once knew.
Carrying her backpack every day, going to school, returning home, shopping for pretty accessories with her college friends, gasping at the prices in luxury stores, discussing future plans at the family dinner table, dreaming of buying a big, spacious house, vowing to never part from her family, planning to wait until after twenty-five to think about marriage, aspiring to be a happy homemaker.
Facing the blushing boy who played the guitar under her window, Qin Changsheng had smiled and gently turned him down. Her mother had watched her anxiously from the window, and when she told her about the incident, her mother had said, “Changsheng, you should start dating earlier. You should try everything as soon as possible.”
Back then, she hadn’t understood.
Strange, why was she remembering these odd, inexplicable things now?
Her body felt so cold.
She couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t hold onto anything. No matter how hard she tried, Qin Changsheng couldn’t open her eyes.
But she heard footsteps.
She didn’t open her eyes, yet she could see Jiang Zhongxue standing before her.
The surroundings were utterly silent as Jiang Zhongxue descended the slope, step by step, until she stood before her. She remained within the shadows cast by the trees, the moonlight pale and ghastly, making her face appear as white as paper.
But there was no expression on her face, only a calm composure, a despair so familiar it had become routine.
Blood had drained away her warmth and senses, severing her connection to her physical eyes. Qin Changsheng gazed at her in a daze, feeling a sudden sense of relief and liberation. Strangely, the fear of death had abruptly withdrawn from her body at that moment. She could even sense the euphoria of that release.
In this scene, for some reason, Qin Changsheng felt an urge to laugh. She even felt a pang of sorrow, Jiang Zhongxue hadn’t left after all. But now that she had rushed over, only to see her in such a foolish, life-threatening state, she must be mocking her inwardly.
Who would have thought that the last person she’d see before dying would be Jiang Zhongxue, someone neither kin nor close to her.
That detestable Jiang Zhongxue.
Now that she had had her fill of ridicule, surely she would leave, right?
Qin Changsheng knew she must look dreadful, perhaps her neck was twisted, her arms broken, her body drenched in blood, a horrifying sight to behold.
A chilling wind began to stir around her, and the ghost of Yu Yin drifted beside Qin Changsheng, eyeing her still-warm body with a predatory gaze. Jiang Zhongxue watched her, her expression unreadable.
Qin Changsheng felt a sorrow so profound it almost made her laugh. She wanted to ask, “How long are you going to stare? Is this spectacle so pleasing to you?”
But she could no longer utter those words.
Jiang Zhongxue knelt down.
Qin Changsheng stared at her in a haze. The moonlight was deathly pale, as if everything in the world had been veiled in a hazy white shroud. Jiang Zhongxue’s eyes gradually reddened, as if her entire being had crumbled, and tears began to fall.
She knelt beside Qin Changsheng’s body, ignoring the flowing blood, carefully lifting her and cradling her on her lap. Gently, she pressed her forehead against Qin Changsheng’s, her voice hoarse, as if her throat were filled with blood: “Changsheng.”
Qin Changsheng was stunned.
Even as her body and soul were on the verge of separation, her cooling form still registered a trace of warmth. Jiang Zhongxue held her close, her voice low and raspy, as if exhausted beyond measure: “Changsheng, how I wish I could die with you.”
“Even if it meant the netherworld, it would be a salvation I yearn for.”
“But I cannot.” Jiang Zhongxue held her, resting her forehead lightly against Qin Changsheng’s, gently nuzzling her blood-stained face. Her long lashes drooped as if she were about to slip into an eternal slumber, her voice so faint it was almost inaudible: “Changsheng, I’m so tired. Every time, every single time, I have to watch you shed tears before me. Every time, I am powerless to save you. Changsheng, hate me.”
Qin Changsheng was dumbfounded.
Had she and Jiang Zhongxue ever shared such a deep bond or past? Wasn’t it Jiang Zhongxue who had first been sarcastic and mocking today, then run off without a second thought?
Suddenly, a surge of power seemed to flow through her limbs and veins, making her heart beat again. Qin Changsheng was so overwhelmed she nearly wept, how could she resign herself to dying so inexplicably? She had to get to the bottom of this! Everything that had happened today was Jiang Zhongxue’s fault, and now, here she was, putting on a hypocritical show of mourning like a cat crying over a dead mouse, what was the meaning of this?!
Yu Yin’s soft laughter lingered in her ears, refusing to fade. She, no, it, coveted this body on the verge of losing its vitality, yearning for a new vessel.
Its voice echoed in her ears like the murmurs of a devil from hell: “Give up, give up. You can’t go on living. Look at this body, look at your situation. Living is nothing but suffering, how much better to be among the dead.”
Its voice carried a bewitching power, making Qin Changsheng’s eyelids grow heavy.
Jiang Zhongxue held her as if she were about to fall into an eternal slumber. Qin Changsheng struggled slightly but couldn’t lift her eyelids. She fought desperately to regain control of her body, only to see Yu Yin’s hands crawling over her, pinning her soul down so she couldn’t move.
Qin Changsheng had been gathering her strength for a long time. Perhaps because she had separated from her body, she felt no pain at all, but at the same time, she couldn’t find any way to reconnect with it. Frantically and futilely, she clutched at the hem of her clothes, but she could no longer merge with her own body.
Jiang Zhongxue seemed to sense something. Gazing at the contours beneath Qin Changsheng’s tightly shut eyes and seeing them twitch incessantly, a look of sorrow and resolve crossed her face. She reached out a hand and clamped it around Qin Changsheng’s neck.
Qin Changsheng was wholly absorbed in her struggle with Yu Yin for control of the body, never expecting the pressure on her neck to intensify. Clenching her teeth, she mustered all her strength and, with one fierce motion, raised her hand and slapped Yu Yin hard, sending the entity flying out of her body!
The sound of the slap echoed through the skies, startling the birds in the forest that had just settled back onto their perches.
Qin Changsheng abruptly sat up, her hand still raised in the air. Jiang Zhongxue, unable to dodge in time, took the slap full force.
Jiang Zhongxue moved her hand away from Qin Changsheng’s neck, her expression complex and inscrutable, all traces of tears gone. Qin Changsheng leaned against her chest, gasping for breath, her voice extremely weak. After coughing twice, she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you.”
Jiang Zhongxue looked at her silently, her expression unreadable. After a moment’s pause, she raised her hand and gently patted Qin Changsheng’s back.
Qin Changsheng paused, her breathing gradually steadying, then glared fiercely at Jiang Zhongxue and said, “No, I did mean to hit you! Why were you trying to strangle me?”
Just moments ago, she had been crying out in agony, calling her own name, and then, upon seeing a chance of survival, she had tried to kill her instead.
What was she thinking?
Jiang Zhongxue held her and said softly, “Don’t move!”
Qin Changsheng was startled by her words and didn’t dare move again. Having just reclaimed her body, the original pain, weakness, and exhaustion rushed back, making her gasp in agony. Jiang Zhongxue cradled her in her arms, placed a hand on her shoulder, and in an instant, her face returned to its usual detached expression as she calmly ran her hand along Qin Changsheng’s arm and toward her limbs.
“Your arm is broken.” Her voice was calm and composed, as if the grief she had shown earlier was nothing but Qin Changsheng’s illusion. “There’s blood on your face. I thought you had hit your head and were beyond saving, but it seems you’ve pulled through.”
Qin Changsheng lay in her arms, in so much pain that she could barely manage to breathe. Yet, upon hearing Jiang Zhongxue’s words, she stubbornly gasped and said, “My leg is injured too.”
Jiang Zhongxue glanced at her leg and replied indifferently, “That doesn’t count.”
Qin Changsheng was so infuriated that tears welled up in her eyes. Already in excruciating pain, she retorted bitterly, “Right, it doesn’t count as an injury. Then let go of me, I can still walk back on my own!”
Jiang Zhongxue hummed in acknowledgment.
That simple hum sent a wave of sorrow washing over Qin Changsheng. Why was Jiang Zhongxue so cold and unfeeling? Why did she keep trying to win her over, only to be met with indifference time and again, leaving her heart bruised and disappointed?
She, Qin Changsheng, was nothing but a fool!
Feeling as though her heart were bleeding from the hurt, Qin Changsheng glared at Jiang Zhongxue, who remained expressionless as she held her. “Where else hurts?” Jiang Zhongxue asked.
Qin Changsheng shot her a resentful look, enduring the searing pain from the gash on her leg, and sneered, “What does it matter to you where I hurt? Didn’t I tell you to leave? What, can’t bear to part with the Qin family’s money, so you came back?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. She was still injured, what if she angered Jiang Zhongxue and she abandoned her here? Would she be left stranded in these woods, easy prey for wild boars?
Jiang Zhongxue looked at her and asked, “Do you really want me to leave?”
Her tone was deadly serious. Qin Changsheng, stubborn to the core, gritted her teeth and said, “Then go! Don’t you dare think about taking even a single coin from the Qin family!”
Jiang Zhongxue nodded earnestly. Qin Changsheng stared at her, seething with anger.
Moonlight spilled over the hazy forest, and the red mark on Jiang Zhongxue’s face had begun to fade. She hummed softly and asked seriously, “Since you want me to leave, could you please let go of my shirt, Qin Changsheng?”
Qin Changsheng’s fingers were clenched tightly around Jiang Zhongxue’s T-shirt, wrinkling and distorting the fabric. She held on as if gripping a rabbit that might vanish in the next second, stubbornly insisting, “I won’t let go! Just leave if you want!”
As she spoke, the pain from her wounds surged again, and tears rolled down her cheeks. Overwhelmed by both sorrow and resentment, she could only glare at Jiang Zhongxue.
Her heart was filled with anxiety, fearing that Jiang Zhongxue would lose her temper. But to her surprise, after a moment, Jiang Zhongxue suddenly let out a soft laugh.
It was as if the bright moon behind her paled in comparison.
A cool breeze swept through the woods, carrying a slight chill. By the clear mountain stream, under the moonlight, Jiang Zhongxue stood and smiled gently at Qin Changsheng.
Mesmerized by her smile, Qin Changsheng loosened her grip. In the next instant, she was lifted into the air, cradled horizontally in Jiang Zhongxue’s arms.
Before Qin Changsheng could react, Jiang Zhongxue’s expression returned to its usual calm. She simply said, “I just can’t bear to part with what your Qin family promised me.”