The Cold Yet Pure-Hearted Killer: She Told Me to Leave
Fang Xun’gui didn’t know when he had fallen asleep.
When he woke, the sky was already bright, and Yuyi Yue was sitting at the table, keeping accounts.
Mornings like this were so peaceful it felt unreal.
For years, he had wandered along the darkest edges, a ruthless and heartless blade—this was the life “Zhan Kong” was accustomed to.
As for “Fang Xun’gui,” he hadn’t appeared in this world for a long time.
Yuyi Yue was the first to notice Fang Xun’gui waking.
She set down the wolf-hair brush in her hand and looked over, her gaze calm:
“Good morning.”
Fang Xun’gui belatedly realized that for the past five days, he had truly been sharing a bed with Yuyi Yue.
Yet Yuyi Yue’s expression was so natural it seemed almost indifferent, making Fang Xun’gui, who still felt awkward, appear overly sentimental.
He hoarsely returned the greeting, unsure what else to do.
His wounds were healing faster than he had expected.
It had been sixteen years since Fang Xun’gui first arrived at the Blood-Severing Pavilion at the age of seven.
The old and new scars on his body had long woven into a net, dividing his battered shell into fragmented, bloody memories.
The Blood-Severing Pavilion employed some of the finest physicians in the martial world, but their purpose was singular—
To keep the Pavilion’s killers alive and serving the Pavilion Master faithfully.
Whether the killers felt pain was not something the Pavilion’s “physicians” needed to consider.
Why was he thinking about these things now?
Fang Xun’gui lowered his gaze, watching as Yuyi Yue applied medicine to his wounds with an excessively gentle touch, his eyes trembling slightly.
He couldn’t help but murmur:
“I’m not afraid of pain.”
So there was no need to go to such lengths for him.
Yuyi Yue didn’t look up, continuing to apply the medicine to his wounds with a gentle hand, and softly said:
“Not being afraid of pain and not feeling pain are two different things.”
Again.
Fang Xun’gui couldn’t help but exhale.
He had lost count of how many times Yuyi Yue had effortlessly silenced him with a single, understated remark.
He truly was not good with words.
The pristine white bandages once again tenderly embraced his scars, while Yuyi Yue’s dark hair cascaded over her shoulders. One stray strand inadvertently brushed against Fang Xun’gui’s exposed skin.
Fang Xun’gui instinctively held his breath, taking a few moments to steady himself so as not to appear too embarrassed.
What was wrong with him? Had it been too long since he’d experienced such tranquility, causing him to forget even the composure he prided himself on?
For a killer, this was far too dangerous.
It shouldn’t be like this.
Yuyi Yue likely hadn’t noticed Fang Xun’gui’s odd behavior. After wrapping the bandages, she stood up and walked to the side to wash the blood from her hands.
“How much do I owe you now?”
Fang Xun’gui asked Yuyi Yue, his tone inexplicably dry.
Yuyi Yue finished washing her hands, thought for a moment, and replied:
“Seventy-nine taels of silver and one hundred sixty copper coins… that should be right.”
Fang Xun’gui nodded curtly:
“Alright, I understand.”
It was time to leave. Return to the Blood-Severing Pavilion to retrieve the silver for Yuyi Yue, and never come back to this desolate courtyard.
This was the order Fang Xun’gui gave himself.
He didn’t deserve to indulge any further.
Yuyi Yue continued:
“Your injuries are no longer serious. Your weapons and belongings are by the bed. I trust you won’t renege on your debt, so I won’t see you off.”
What?
Fang Xun’gui was stunned.
It took him a long moment to process that Yuyi Yue was telling him to leave.Yes, he should leave. There was no reason for him to stay any longer.
Yet upon hearing Yuyi Yue’s words, Fang Xun’gui couldn’t help but feel a tightness in his chest.
Alright, this beautiful dream had already lasted too long.
Fang Xun’gui averted his gaze from Yuyi Yue, hurriedly turning his eyes to the side where his sword, stained with countless lives, lay.
Various hidden weapons were piled atop his mended nightclothes.
The stitches were fine and intricate, sewing the tears in the fabric into a uniquely crafted pattern.
“I mended it while I was at it.”
Noticing Fang Xun’gui’s dazed expression, Yuyi Yue explained with a smile.
Fang Xun’gui reached out and touched the garment, which had never been treated with such care before.
He tightened his grip on the scabbard.
“I’ll come to settle the bill tomorrow.”
Fang Xun’gui said hoarsely.
Yuyi Yue turned and looked into Fang Xun’gui’s cold, stern eyes, her own eyes curving slightly:
“I’ve already said, I believe you. Besides, you still need to come back to resolve the poison.”
“…Mm.”
“Why haven’t you changed yet? Oh, is it because your wounds hurt? Let me help you get dressed.”
“No need! You… turn around.”
“Oh.”
Yuyi Yue turned around nonchalantly and continued writing and drawing on the paper.
Only then did Fang Xun’gui rise in a flustered manner, quickly changing into his clothes.
It wasn’t until he once again held the sword steeped in slaughter in his palm that he finally felt a sense of reality.
He turned and looked at Yuyi Yue sitting at the table.
Yuyi Yue was bent over, writing something intently.
Noon was approaching, and sunlight streamed through the window lattice, kissing her fingertips.
She wrote quickly—the ink of the previous line hadn’t even dried before the next line was already on the paper, baked by the sunlight into elegant, flowing characters.
Hearing the sound of clothes changing stop behind her, Yuyi Yue continued writing as she spoke:
“I’m writing you a prescription to nourish your body. The herbs listed aren’t hard to find. Find a pharmacy, brew a few doses according to the prescription, and drink them for a few months. It’ll be good for your health.”
With the last stroke of the brush, Yuyi Yue folded the prescription, turned, and handed it to Fang Xun’gui.
Fang Xun’gui had no choice but to accept it.
He didn’t want to tell Yuyi Yue that he didn’t care much about this body of his and had no interest in recuperating.
But as he took the prescription, still warm from Yuyi Yue’s fingertips, Fang Xun’gui couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word of refusal.
“I understand. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. The prescription is included in my consultation fee.”
“Tomorrow at noon, I’ll return.”
Pushing open the old, worn door, Fang Xun’gui stepped into the sunlight.
Autumn was gradually setting in, and fallen leaves covered the bloodstains that had already been concealed in the courtyard.
Fang Xun’gui pressed his lips tightly together and strode out of this small world.
It was time to return to his original path.
…
In the desolate courtyard, Yuyi Yue rested her chin in her hand, watching Fang Xun’gui’s figure grow farther and farther away.
A long time passed. Even after his figure turned and disappeared from sight, Yuyi Yue did not look away.
A smile curled at the corner of her lips.
[This kind of character—outwardly fierce and cold, but actually a shy, innocent, well-behaved baby—is just too adorable.]
Stellar Eye couldn’t understand at all how its owner had arrived at the conclusion of “well-behaved baby.”
It was concerned about something else.
[Master, Fang Xun’gui’s Favorability has been fluctuating wildly.]
[Mm, that’s good.]
[What are your next plans?]
[Deep down, Fang Xun’gui is starved for affection. He wants a warm, peaceful home.][“I understand, Master. You want to give him a home?”]
[“No, I want him to give me a home.”]
Yuyi Yue smiled as she looked at the desolate courtyard, speaking to Stellar Eye deep within her heart:
[“Let’s start with this courtyard.”]