The Cold and Pure-Hearted Killer: She Won’t Die
Under the candlelight, the two sat facing each other.
Yuyi Yue helped Fang Xun’gui wash the bloodstains from his hands, applied medicinal powder, and carefully wrapped them in gauze.
Fang Xun’gui’s eyes still held a bloody hue as he stared blankly into the void, not uttering a word.
By the time Fang Xun’gui regained his senses, Yuyi Yue had already brewed a pot of tea.
“Lotus seed heart tea, to calm the nerves.”
Yuyi Yue pushed a white porcelain teacup toward Fang Xun’gui. “It’s not good to drink alcohol when injured, otherwise I’d have a drink with you.”
Fang Xun’gui silently gripped the teacup, his knuckles turning white.
Yuyi Yue simply sipped her tea, waiting for Fang Xun’gui to gather his emotions.
After a long while, so long that the tea in the cup grew cold, Fang Xun’gui finally spoke in a hoarse voice:
“Aren’t you going to ask me?”
Yuyi Yue smiled faintly:
“Do you want me to know?”
Fang Xun’gui whispered:
“Nine years ago, there was a coup in the imperial capital, and the new emperor ascended the throne. That year… many things happened.”
Yuyi Yue listened quietly.
Fang Xun’gui took a deep breath:
“I’ve already dragged you into enough trouble—first You Huo, and who knows who or what forces will come next. I really don’t want to involve you any deeper.”
After saying this, Fang Xun’gui instinctively imagined what Yuyi Yue’s next words might be.
Would she say she believed he could protect her?
No, she would think she could protect herself—and she truly could.
Or perhaps she would curiously press him about what happened nine years ago, refusing to let it go until she understood everything?
No, that wasn’t her either…
In the end, he simply couldn’t fathom Yuyi Yue’s heart.
She was clear and pure, yet unfathomably deep.
Fang Xun’gui gazed at Yuyi Yue, his eyes filled with unease.
But Yuyi Yue, looking into Fang Xun’gui’s eyes, gave a response he never expected:
“Now that I’m already involved, and judging by your reaction, I can’t extricate myself for the time being. In that case, why not let me know everything so I’m not too passive? Perhaps I can even become your ally?”
Her eyes were like stars in the night sky:
“If you’re willing, tell me your story. Instead of letting me keep guessing and worrying, let your story have one more listener.
“You don’t like your story, and I don’t have one of my own. So tell me your story, and then let’s write a new one together.
“I’ve heard people say that sharing a story with someone you like is a very happy thing. If you’re willing, I’m right here.”
Fang Xun’gui’s breathing trembled, as if about to dissolve into the boundless night.
He stared blankly at Yuyi Yue, so long that his eyes grew sore, yet he couldn’t bear to look away.
Only one thought remained in his heart—
How could he be worthy?
How could he be worthy of Yuyi Yue’s words?
What kind of person was he…
But Yuyi Yue saw through all his thoughts at a glance:
“Don’t push me away. You’re the first person I’ve liked since leaving Misty River, and you really do need to take responsibility for that.”
Her eyes held a faint smile, making it impossible to tell whether her words were sincere or merely meant to comfort Fang Xun’gui.
Or perhaps both.
Seeing Fang Xun’gui still silent, Yuyi Yue delivered her final conclusion:
“You’re just worried you’ll get me killed. But even if I do end up dying, I’d rather die knowing the truth…””Don’t say things like that!”
Fang Xun’gui suddenly interrupted Yuyi Yue’s words sharply, yet the look he gave her was almost pleading:
“You won’t die.”
Yuyi Yue was startled by Fang Xun’gui, but after a moment, she simply shook her head and smiled:
“Everyone dies. As a healer or a Gu Master, I understand this better than anyone else in the world. I don’t want to die, but I am not afraid of death, nor do I glorify or seek it. I just want to live each day well and, by the way, get to know you a little more.”
Yuyi Yue leaned forward, reached out to cup Fang Xun’gui’s face, and suddenly smiled:
“I want to know your story, and I like you. Both of these statements are sincere.”
…
Yuyi Yue finally heard his story from Fang Xun’gui’s own lips.
Fang Xun’gui was an orphan, abandoned by his parents from a young age.
When he was seven years old, he was begging on the streets, on the verge of starvation, when he was picked up by a killer from the Blood-Severing Pavilion.
The killer’s codename was “Severing Cloud,” and his real name was Fang Yunmo.
That year, Fang Yunmo was seventeen.
“I was picked up by the Pavilion Master in the same way back then. You remind me a bit of myself from those days. Consider yourself lucky—come with me.”
Fang Yunmo spoke with feigned maturity as he led the little beggar back to Moon-Cutting Mountain.
He wanted to give the little beggar a name using his own surname, but unfortunately, he didn’t know many characters.
It was one of Fang Yunmo’s killer friends who gave the little beggar his name.
The killer friend said:
“How about calling him Xun’gui?”
“Sounds nice!… What do those two characters mean?”
“Tsk, I told you to read more often. Xun’gui means ‘seeking a homeward path.’ The kid you picked up has a resilient look in his eyes—he’s good material. If he’s lucky enough, he might just find the path home for this life.”
“As expected of you! I didn’t really understand, but it sounds nice! Hey, kid, from now on, your name is Fang Xun’gui!”
The little beggar pressed his lips tightly together and nodded earnestly.
He didn’t understand what Fang Yunmo and the other brother were saying, but he knew one thing: from then on, he had a name.
Later, Fang Xun’gui learned that the brother who gave him his name was called “Severing Hair.”
In Fang Yunmo’s words, “Severing Hair is the most learned guy on all of Moon-Cutting Mountain.”
Severing Hair became Fang Xun’gui’s teacher, sometimes bringing him a few picture books, other times magically pulling a packet of candies from his blood-stained sleeves.
Severing Hair was mature and steady, but in reality, he was only five years older than Fang Yunmo.
At that time, Severing Hair was ranked fourth on the Blood-Severing Pavilion’s Celestial Ranking, while Fang Yunmo, codenamed Severing Cloud, was ranked nineteenth.
Fang Xun’gui had once been curious about Severing Hair’s past and why he had joined the Blood-Severing Pavilion.
But his curiosity would never be satisfied.
When Fang Xun’gui was nine years old, Severing Hair failed a mission and died in the wilderness, his body lost without a trace.
Such was the fate of a Blood-Severing Pavilion killer.
No matter how strong they were, they would inevitably plunge into the abyss of death on some unknown day.
Different paths, same destination—without exception.
The news of Severing Hair’s death was like a drop of water merging into the ocean. Aside from his name being removed from the Celestial Ranking, the world seemed unchanged.
Little Fang Xun’gui asked Fang Yunmo in a panic:
“Why did Severing Hair die?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How can it not matter! He was Severing Hair!”
“For us, whether a mission succeeds or fails is the only thing that matters. Nothing else is important.”
“That was a life! Brother, didn’t you always tell me that life is the most precious thing?”Fang Yunmo looked at Fang Xun’gui, who was acting like a little adult, and smiled helplessly:
“Xun’gui, Severing Hair gave you this name and taught you to read and write, and I taught you martial arts and training—all so that you could live well. You are different from us; you still have a chance to find your way home, while we lost ours long ago. We are people who have already died once. Our lives belong to the Pavilion Master, to the Blood-Severing Pavilion, but never to ourselves. Such lives can be measured by price, but they can never be called precious.”
After saying this, Fang Yunmo half-knelt down and spoke earnestly to Fang Xun’gui, whose eyes were red:
“Do you remember what I said before? Being a killer is not cool at all; it’s not something you should aspire to. Xun’gui, when you are strong enough to live well on your own down the mountain, leave Moon-Cutting Mountain. You must not let yourself stay here.”
That year, Fang Xun’gui was nine years old, and Fang Yunmo was nineteen.
There were still five years until Fang Yunmo’s death and Fang Xun’gui’s official entry into the Blood-Severing Pavilion.