The Cold and Pure-hearted Killer: Her Future and Mine
A warm kiss landed on his forehead, fleeting upon contact.
Fang Xun’gui instinctively closed his eyes, his breath trembling.
Yuyi Yue sat back down, gazing calmly at Fang Xun’gui.
When Fang Xun’gui opened his eyes again, they were bloodshot. After a long pause, he spoke in a hoarse voice:
“As long as I remain Zhan Kong of the Blood-Severing Pavilion, Xue Ningshuo will have reason to protect you from the Netherworld Hall.”
Yuyi Yue shook her head, her elegant face tinged with sorrow:
“I don’t want you to chain yourself to the Blood-Severing Pavilion for my sake. Besides, Xue Ningshuo won’t keep you around forever. Once the time comes, he will undoubtedly discard you like trash.”
She took Fang Xun’gui’s hand again:
“I’ve said before, I’ve never feared death, nor do I regret anything. But if you are filled with remorse because of me, I will be sad. For my sake, please don’t blame yourself like this.”
Fang Xun’gui looked at her, his eyes still clouded with heavy, unshakable regret.
He asked in a raspy voice:
“Can you give me some time? First, return to Misty River. It must be a secluded, peaceful place. Go back, wait for a while, and I will resolve these matters. Once no one can threaten you anymore, you can come out.”
Yuyi Yue shook her head, her eyes carrying a hesitation Fang Xun’gui couldn’t decipher—as if she harbored words she wasn’t sure she should speak:
“Don’t throw your life away for me. That would truly be unnecessary.”
Fang Xun’gui tightly grasped Yuyi Yue’s hand in return, his eyes pleading urgently:
“I will keep you alive. Believe me, I will do everything in my power to make it happen.”
As Zhan Kong, he could stir up chaos. Even if he couldn’t eliminate all threats directly, Fang Xun’gui could at least find leverage to trade for Yuyi Yue’s life.
His own life was worthless, but he could always find a way to make the Netherworld Hall and the Blood-Severing Pavilion owe him a favor.
Just like Fang Yunmo nine years ago.
Fang Xun’gui knew that, at this moment, he still held value to Xue Ningshuo and the Netherworld Hall Master.
Only now did he fully understand Fang Yunmo’s choice.
Trading a “worthless” life for the future of someone cherished—it was all too fitting.
Yuyi Yue lowered her head, lost in thought. It wasn’t until she heard Fang Xun’gui’s vow to risk his life that she looked up.
Her eyes were slightly red, and her gaze toward Fang Xun’gui was profound, as if she had finally made a decision in those few breaths.
Her usually clear eyes were now filled with heavy sorrow, startling Fang Xun’gui and stirring a sense of foreboding in his heart.
Yuyi Yue whispered:
“Do you know why I suddenly decided to leave Misty River?”
Fang Xun’gui was stunned.
He knew nothing about Misty River or Yuyi Yue’s Master.
He only remembered Yuyi Yue saying that her Master wanted her to witness the myriad facets of the world beyond Misty River, believing it was necessary to earn the recognition of the immortals.
Fang Xun’gui tentatively asked:
“Because of your Master?”
Yuyi Yue smiled, her expression bitter yet resigned:
“That’s only part of the reason. The bigger reason is that I wanted to seize the chance to see the world outside while I still had time.”
Fang Xun’gui’s heart sank. He asked, his voice trembling:
“What do you mean… while you still had time?”
Yuyi Yue replied softly:
“I told you before, I was fed countless Gu Insects since childhood. But besides that, there were also various herbs and poisons.”Only later did I learn that beings like me have another specific name.
“Medicine person.
“This body should have died countless times in the past. It was probably sheer luck that allowed me to live until now, until I met you.
“After Master’s death, the chaotic toxins in my body became even more imbalanced. I know better than anyone how long this body can last. From the moment I left Misty River, I was already prepared.
“Xun’gui, don’t blame yourself for me.
“Because I… never had much time to begin with.”
In the desolate room, only their breathing and heartbeats remained.
It was late September, the cicadas’ songs had long fallen silent. Withered leaves outside the abandoned courtyard were swept up by fierce winds, sliced apart in the air, turning to dust that returned to the earth.
But Fang Xun’gui heard nothing.
Yuyi Yue’s voice filled his ears, blocking out all other sounds, taking away his last shred of reason.
At this moment, Fang Xun’gui was left with nothing but an empty shell.
He sat silently in place, his heart completely hollowed out, devoid of any remaining emotion.
Countless images flashed before his eyes, and upon closer inspection, he realized they were all of Yuyi Yue’s smiling face.
She loved to smile, and she looked beautiful when she did. Fang Xun’gui had always known this.
Because in countless moments, Fang Xun’gui had allowed himself to silently gaze upon that ethereal countenance.
There had been one such moment, half a month ago, when Fang Xun’gui lay beside Yuyi Yue and dreamed an impossible dream.
In their twilight years, he and Yuyi Yue lay together on rattan chairs in the abandoned courtyard, basking in the sun, free from all worldly troubles.
They held each other’s hands, their faces etched with wrinkles by time, both wearing expressions of blissful happiness.
Fang Xun’gui knew very well this was just a dream, because someone like him, living day to day, had no right to such a future.
When he woke with a start, dawn had not yet broken. Yuyi Yue was still sleeping soundly, and Fang Xun’gui only needed to turn his head to see her peaceful sleeping face.
Even when she grew old, she would surely remain beautiful.
In the moonlight, Yuyi Yue’s delicate fragrance stirred something in Fang Xun’gui’s heart.
He couldn’t help but slowly lean closer, and when he regained his senses, he had nearly touched the tip of Yuyi Yue’s nose.
He stopped right there.
Any closer would have been a desecration.
Fang Xun’gui had always been grateful for that night’s dream, giving him at least one chance to see what Yuyi Yue might look like in old age. He knew perfectly well he would never live to see that day, while Yuyi Yue would surely live a long life, enjoying a complete and smooth journey.
But why must heaven always play such cruel jokes on mortals.
Why must someone as wonderful as Yuyi Yue endure such a past.
Medicine person… these two words pierced Fang Xun’gui’s heart like a sharp blade.
He didn’t know how he could still manage to speak calmly.
“…How much time do you have left?”
“At least six months, at most three years.”
Yuyi Yue’s voice betrayed neither sorrow nor joy as she stated her own cruel fate in the most matter-of-fact tone.
Fang Xun’gui didn’t even dare to wonder whether she truly didn’t care, or whether she had to remain strong because she understood life and death all too well.
A tearing pain spread from his chest through every limb and bone. Fang Xun’gui tightly grasped Yuyi Yue’s hand, his eyes bloodshot, his voice rough like a long-dead branch in the desert finally snapping:
“Is there any way? Any way at all, as long as it can keep you alive!”At this moment, Fang Xun’gui was like a dying beast trapped in a cage, desperately grasping for a lifeline in its final moments. To achieve this, he was willing to sacrifice every ounce of his flesh and blood.
Yuyi Yue merely smiled, yet a silent tear traced a path from the corner of her eye.
Just that single tear extinguished all the light in Fang Xun’gui’s eyes.
Yuyi Yue whispered softly:
“I will try to live a little longer, to survive until one year and three months from now.
“If you are willing, would you like to share a story with me during this year and three months—a story with a predetermined ending?”