“Do you want my heart?”
Fu Shuang didn’t know why she said it. Having been reborn and holding the “script” of her life in her hands, she knew that at this stage, neither Ming Yuemian nor Feng Cheng knew she possessed a Seven Apertured Exquisite Heart. In her previous life, they hadn’t discovered this until much later.
There was no need to reveal it so early. Moreover, Ming Yuemian’s “heart ailment” was a sham; it didn’t exist at all.
In her past life, Ming Yuemian had used that ailment as a pretext to consume half of Fu Shuang’s heart, simply to prove that her status in Feng Cheng’s heart was higher than Fu Shuang’s.
But at this moment, a sudden impulse surged within her, forcing the words out.
It was equivalent to voluntarily revealing her greatest weakness and Achilles’ heel to her enemy.
A commoner may be innocent, but possessing a jade treasure makes him guilty. Ever since she was a child, countless demons and ghosts had wanted to devour her heart. She had fought her way through life alone and survived, she wasn’t afraid to let others know her vulnerability.
Because she was now strong enough to protect herself, she no longer needed to hide.
In her previous life, Feng Cheng was able to cut out half her heart not because Fu Shuang couldn’t defeat him, but because she had never raised her guard against him. She never dreamed that her lover would point his blade at her.
Things were different now. No one could hurt her like that again. Brimming with confidence in her high cultivation, she wasn’t afraid to tell this secret to Ming Yuemian a “useless” girl who couldn’t even perform a basic sword move.
The girl posed no threat to her whatsoever.
More importantly, she didn’t want to continue this charade with her. These few days of interaction had given Fu Shuang a strange sense of danger. She was worried that things were deviating from her original revenge plan. This surface level harmony was unnecessary; it was better to tear off the mask sooner rather than later.
“My heart is more effective than the Snow Jade Flower of the Li Kingdom,” Fu Shuang told her bluntly. “If you eat my heart, your ailment will never flare up again.”
Although Fu Shuang knew Ming Yuemian’s illness was fake, she had no logical reason to voice that suspicion yet. She didn’t know how Ming Yuemian had deceived everyone, but the fact that the Young Mistress suffered from a congenital heart deficiency was something the entire Tianxuan Pavilion. Feng Cheng included, believed as absolute truth.
Whether it was true or false didn’t actually matter. Fu Shuang feigned ignorance and asked again: “Do you want my heart?”
Ming Yuemian: “…”
She understood what Fu Shuang meant, but… on the surface, why did those words sound so much like a confession of love?
I actually do want it… though Ming Yuemian’s definition of “wanting” her heart was entirely different from what Fu Shuang implied.
But rather than that, Ming Yuemian was more concerned about the implications of the reveal: “Sister, if the Seven Apertured Exquisite Heart is so precious, did you encounter many demons and monsters when you were little?”
That heart wasn’t something she had just acquired, she was born with it. She could protect herself now, but she wasn’t born knowing immortal arts. In fact, her path was harder than that of most disciples; she was self-taught, finding her way without the guidance of a master. Before she had the power to protect herself, would the monsters lusting after her heart have spared her just because she was a child?
Quite the opposite, they likely saw a child as an easier target.
In the original novel, the only purpose of this heart was to facilitate Feng Cheng’s abuse of his wife; it never mentioned these details. Listening to Fu Shuang now, Ming Yuemian could hardly imagine what she had gone through.
How difficult must it have been? Her heart couldn’t help but ache for her.
Fu Shuang paused.
There it was again. Fu Shuang narrowed her eyes, that dangerous, unsettling feeling.
She was an orphan, a solitary soul. When she was young and those monsters tried to gouge out her heart, she had escaped by a hair’s breadth, carving out a path to survival through sheer will. Because she had never known the warmth of family, because she was used to it, she never felt she was being “wronged.”
For the first time in her life, someone had asked her such a question.
So this was what it felt like to be cared for.
But… why her?
Fu Shuang frowned warily. Why was she pretending to care?
She hated this… it was repulsive! Did she think this hypocrisy would soften her heart and make her show mercy later? Fu Shuang didn’t answer the question, forcibly steering the conversation back to its original track: “If you want this heart, you can go beg your Senior Brother to take it for you.”
Perfect. She didn’t want to play nice with that scumbag anymore anyway. If they were going to break, they should break completely. If she could accelerate the plot and trigger the “wife chasing” phase early, she would be more than happy.
“Chasing” couldn’t just be words. Fu Shuang intended to make him pay a real price. At the very least, he would have to give her that promised Luminous Sword.
Leaving behind that cold sentence, Fu Shuang turned and walked away.
No. I won’t be soft-hearted. I won’t waver.
Ming Yuemian: “…?”
She watched Fu Shuang’s retreating back, completely bewildered.
A moment later, Feng Cheng finally returned, carrying a water skin.
Having spent much of his time traveling the world, Feng Cheng took one look at the surrounding mess and understood what had happened without needing an explanation. “Another monster encounter? Why didn’t you call for me? Mianmian, are you hurt?”
“Huh?” Ming Yuemian was slightly taken replace. “Um, no, I’m not hurt.”
She found it a bit incomprehensible: “Why aren’t you asking if Sister is hurt?”
To be honest, these two don’t look like a couple at all! One sees her boyfriend holding hands with someone else and doesn’t get angry, even calling it a small matter while the other constantly goes off to provide ‘warmth’ to other girls and cares about everyone else before his own girlfriend when an accident happens???
“Shuang’er has high cultivation. I know this. It’s impossible for her to lose to a monster like that,” Feng Cheng smiled. “I only worry about you.”
His smile and tone carried a sense of intimacy, as if saying ‘our relationship is deep, and I understand her perfectly.’
Ming Yuemian: “…”
Sometimes she really felt this scumbag was a smooth talker.
Fu Shuang lowered her eyes.
In truth, she wasn’t completely unhurt. During the final strike against the vine demon, a vine had accidentally grazed the back of her hand. It had immediately torn the skin, leaving a bloody streak, though it wasn’t deep or a major issue.
She wasn’t one to make a fuss, so she naturally wouldn’t mention it. Fu Shuang dropped her hand, her wide, snow white sleeves concealing the easily overlooked wound.
The three arrived at Qujiang City before total darkness fell and found an inn to stay the night.
“How many rooms for the three of you, travelers?” the innkeeper asked.
Feng Cheng glanced at the red and white figures beside him, paused, and said, “Three premium rooms. Do you have them?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” The innkeeper’s face lit up with joy as he took the money. “We have plenty of vacancies. If you want, I could give you ten rooms each!”
Isn’t ten rooms each a bit excessive???
Ming Yuemian thought to herself: He sees our fancy clothes and generous spending and wants to shear us like fat sheep.
She glanced at Fu Shuang’s quiet profile and felt a slight pang of regret. There were enough rooms, so she wouldn’t be sharing with Fu Shuang tonight.
Still, it was fine, at least Feng Cheng and Fu Shuang weren’t sharing a room that was acceptable. And… Ming Yuemian noticed the fatigue gathered between Fu Shuang’s brows. Between the drinking last night and the fight with the vine demon today, she had drained a lot of energy. She truly needed good rest, and a private room without interruptions was for the best.
The innkeeper arranged three adjacent rooms. Before the others could move, Ming Yuemian pointed at the middle door. “I’m taking the middle one!”
Even with rooms, I must keep them separated! This way, if they try to visit each other in the middle of the night, they’ll have to pass my door, and I’ll be more likely to notice.
Ming Yuemian felt she was being incredibly clever.
Feng Cheng and Fu Shuang had no objections. Fu Shuang didn’t understand why Ming Yuemian was being so proactive, the interiors of the rooms were all the same, so there was nothing worth picking over.
“Whatever works,” Fu Shuang said with a wave of her hand. She entered the room on the right and closed the door immediately.
Feng Cheng watched the closed door, frowning slightly.
“Senior Brother!” Ming Yuemian called from the middle doorway.
Feng Cheng snapped out of it. “Mianmian, what is it? Is something wrong with the room?”
“No.” Ming Yuemian held out her hand quite naturally. “Give me some money!”
Feng Cheng asked in confusion. “What do you need money for? Is there something you want? Tell me, and I’ll buy it for you.”
Ming Yuemian didn’t have any money on her. As a pampered young mistress who had never worked a day in her life, she had never touched “filthy lucre.” Ming Ye had packed plenty of bags for her trip, but he hadn’t given her cash.
However, Feng Cheng’s money came from the Tianxuan Pavilion, so it was only natural for him to give it to her when she needed it.
“No,” Ming Yuemian refused directly. “Give it to me. I want to buy it myself.”
“Did you really see something you like?” Feng Cheng asked. “Are you going out? It’s not safe outside; I should go with you.”
“No, no, no.”
Under Ming Yuemian’s persistence, Feng Cheng eventually gave her the money. She tucked the silver away and headed downstairs, walking straight out of the inn with a clear destination in mind.
Feng Cheng watched her figure merge into the bustling crowd from the second floor, a strange feeling suddenly rising in his heart.
Junior Sister used to be so clingy.
Is she different now that she’s grown up? Or is she still angry about Miss Xiao Ju? Feng Cheng nodded to himself, confirming his own thoughts. It must be that. How could she possibly stop liking me? She must just be throwing a tantrum.
By the time Ming Yuemian returned, it was dark. The innkeeper was at the counter checking the day’s accounts when a slender, fair hand suddenly reached out in front of him.
Snap. She clicked her fingers.
The innkeeper looked up. “How can I help you, miss?”
Ming Yuemian handed him an object from her sleeve. “Manager, find an attendant to deliver this ointment to the beautiful lady in white who came with us.”
A simple errand. The manager took it. “Understood.”
“Thanks!” Ming Yuemian tossed him a piece of silver and turned to leave.
Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on Fu Shuang’s door.
Knock, knock, knock.
Fu Shuang had fallen asleep as soon as she entered the room. Woken by the persistent knocking, she felt a flash of annoyance. she stood up and pushed the door open, her expression and voice equally cold. “What is it?”
Outside stood a waiter with a cloth over his shoulder, holding a small porcelain jar.
Fu Shuang asked, “What is this?”
“The lady in red asked me to bring this ointment to you.” The waiter bowed and backed away. “I’ve delivered it. Please, enjoy.”