…
Lu Qingtang stared nervously at Jiang Xunbai. There wasn’t a trace of focus in his eyes. Since his pupils had changed, she had twice waved her hand in front of his face, but he hadn’t even blinked.
Once this thought emerged, everything became traceable. After nightfall, when he gave her food, he would place it on the ground in front of him and tell her to take it herself. Even when she cried, he only noticed upon hearing her sobs—though his eyes were clearly still open when her tears fell.
But…
Lu Qingtang was somewhat puzzled. At night, when he covered her with the cloak, did he feel his way in the dark, moving inch by inch as lightly as possible toward the stone bed where she lay?
Seeing that he could no longer hide the truth, Jiang Xunbai trembled his lips and admitted, “Yes.”
Lu Qingtang’s mouth fell open in shock. She clamped a hand tightly over her lips to keep from making a sound. Once her emotions had settled somewhat, she asked apologetically, “Was it because of breaking the formation? Were you injured protecting me?”
Jiang Xunbai shook his head with difficulty. “It has nothing to do with you…”
Seeing how much effort it took for him even to speak, Lu Qingtang had no choice but to suppress the countless questions swirling in her mind. Softly, she said, “Don’t explain anything for now. Just rest properly—let me help you sit closer.”
With that, Lu Qingtang firmly helped Jiang Xunbai move nearer to the fire. She tossed some of the stacked firewood beside them into the flames, and in no time, the fire flared up, burning more vigorously than before.
Wrapped in his cloak, Jiang Xunbai sat by the fire. He stared blankly ahead with open eyes, yet his vision remained pitch black.
He pulled a few pieces of crispy candy from his robe, initially meaning to offer them to Lu Qingtang. But then he remembered that she didn’t seem to enjoy overly sweet things. So, he retrieved a few sesame candies from his storage bag and handed them to her instead. He explained quietly, “This crispy candy is too sweet. I was afraid you wouldn’t be used to it. Have some sesame candy instead.”
Lu Qingtang accepted the sesame candies from his hand. She felt as if even those candies carried a chill.
Jiang Xunbai stuffed the crispy candy into his mouth. The cloying sweetness instantly washed over him, numbing his nerves and allowing him to ignore some of the pain wracking his body.
Lu Qingtang thought to herself, he really observes carefully. She was quite sensitive to sweetness and couldn’t handle very sugary foods. Whenever they went to Sweet Lake House for desserts together, she always picked options with lower sugar content.
Biting into the sesame candy, Lu Qingtang savored the perfect blend of crispiness and subtle sweetness. She glanced at Jiang Xunbai and noticed that after eating that piece of crispy candy, a hint of color finally returned to his lips—though they were still terribly pale, it was at least a slight improvement from before.
Although Jiang Xunbai couldn’t see Lu Qingtang’s expression, he could feel her gaze fixed intently on him. This stare inevitably made him recall his own improper behavior earlier.
The sensation of warmth and softness in his arms lingered, refusing to fade. Even though Lu Qingtang hadn’t said anything, endless remorse and guilt surged in Jiang Xunbai’s heart. How could he have taken advantage of her in his dazed, disoriented state?
Jiang Xunbai said earnestly, “Miss Lu, I’m sorry.”
“Ah?” Lu Qingtang was taken aback, somewhat confused. “You just need to rest and focus on regulating your energy. Why are you apologizing to me?”
Jiang Xunbai’s pale, paper-like face flushed with a tinge of red, as if someone had smeared rouge across it. He weighed his words carefully before speaking: “My earlier offense toward you was my mistake. I ought to apologize.”
Lu Qingtang recalled the moment when Jiang Xunbai, in his dazed state, had embraced her. Her cheeks reddened, but fortunately, Jiang Xunbai’s impaired vision prevented him from noticing her expression. Usually indifferent to matters between men and women, she now stumbled over her words uncharacteristically: “Th-this matter… it’s nothing. D-don’t dwell on it.”
A flicker of disappointment passed through Jiang Xunbai’s heart.
Had she always been so casual about such intimacy with others? That would explain her nonchalance.
He wanted to say more, but Lu Qingtang’s panicked voice abruptly cut him off: “Outside! There’s something outside!”
Jiang Xunbai instinctively tried to rise, but found himself devoid of strength. The slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain through his body, forcing a faint hiss through his teeth. Lu Qingtang hurried over, pressing his shoulders to keep him seated: “Stay put. Your talisman formation is still active at the cave entrance. Those things probably can’t get through.”
It wasn’t that Jiang Xunbai lacked confidence in his talisman formation, but the space-time rift teemed with dangers. He didn’t know what exactly Lu Qingtang meant by “those things,” but her terrified tone suggested she’d been badly frightened—yet she still maintained enough composure to reassure him.
Jiang Xunbai bit into another crispy candy and said gently, “Just wait a little longer. We only need to last through tonight.”
Lu Qingtang gazed nervously toward the cave entrance, wondering silently: Did Jiang Xunbai mean that after tonight, he would return to normal?
Under the cold moonlight outside, a horde of creatures emitting dim golden phosphorescence slowly approached. Watching the dense swarm, Lu Qingtang felt nauseated.
For someone with trypophobia, the mass of small creatures was truly horrifying.
Lu Qingtang nearly cursed aloud. The script provided by her system bore almost no resemblance to what she was experiencing—neither the space-time rift nor Jiang Xunbai’s strange condition had been mentioned in the original novel.
As the golden-glowing creatures drew closer, Lu Qingtang finally discerned their forms. The sight nearly made her scream aloud.
They crawled forward on their bellies, covered in dark golden scales, yet each bore a human head—a terrifying visage that chilled Lu Qingtang to the bone.
They inched toward the cave, but when they touched the Barrier at the entrance, it erupted in dazzling golden light, repelling them backward.
The foremost creatures were flung back in parabolic arcs through the air, yet immediately after, more swarmed forward from behind—an endless tide determined to breach the cave.
The sounds of their movement and collisions echoed incessantly, like some colossal beast grinding its teeth.
Lu Qingtang instinctively retreated further inside.
Jiang Xunbai had already closed his eyes against the stone bed, perhaps having passed out from pain. Lu Qingtang didn’t wake him.
Peering through the cave opening at the gradually setting moon, then observing the Barrier’s fading golden light, she drew the stack of Fu Zhi Jiang Xunbai had given her from her robe.
Clutching the talisman papers tightly, she silently resolved: She would defend this place until sunrise.
Time passed with excruciating slowness, stretching on as if an entire century had gone by. The Barrier at the cave entrance grew increasingly faint as countless creatures relentlessly battered against it. Amid the cacophony of skittering footsteps, hoarse cries, and crackling flames, Lu Qingtang detected an almost imperceptible sound.
A chill ran down her spine as she witnessed fine fissures beginning to spiderweb across the Barrier, followed by the crystalline shatter of its collapse echoing in her ears.
It’s over. The Fu Zhi array Jiang Xunbai had laid was broken through by them.
With the talisman array gone, the chaotic noises grew increasingly distinct. Qing-Tang could even hear the grotesque chewing sounds of the creatures.
Clutching a Talisman Paper, she hurled it toward the cave entrance. A thunderous “BOOM—” erupted as the Fu Zhi detonated before the horde, scattering flesh and blood in all directions. A nauseating wave of scorched and putrid odors assaulted her senses, forcing Qing-Tang to turn aside and retch dryly.
Despite the tremendous commotion, Jiang Xunbai remained unconscious – clearly, the pain had overwhelmed him.
Qing-Tang had assumed the creatures would retreat temporarily after such devastation, but reality proved her wrong.
The swarm began stirring again with rustling movements. She had long lost count of how many Talisman Papers she had thrown.
Corpses piled mountain-high, emitting a revolting amalgamation of foul odors. Pale-faced with cold sweat drenching her back, Lu Qingtang stared fixedly at the cave entrance, gripping her dwindling supply of Fu Zhi.
These talismans were her only means of surviving the night. She wouldn’t use her golden finger unless absolutely necessary – not with Jiang Xunbai beside her, who might awaken at any moment. She couldn’t risk it; this secret must never be discovered.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on her, arms aching unbearably. Unnoticed, the campfire before her had extinguished.
As the moon descended westward, a sliver of fish-belly white emerged on the distant horizon. When the first rays of sunlight pierced the sky, the grotesque creatures at the cave entrance began dissolving into golden dust that glittered beautifully under the morning light.
Lu Qingtang exhaled in relief, collapsing backward to sit limply on the ground.
Only then did she have a chance to observe Jiang Xunbai. His white hair was visibly darkening, with his eyelashes and eyebrows following suit.
Though fascinated by the transformation, overwhelming fatigue claimed her. Leaning against the stone bed, she gradually succumbed to deep slumber.
When Jiang Xunbai awoke, sunlight streamed through the cave entrance, casting glittering scales across the lake surface. The cave mouth, however, lay in disarray – scorch marks and explosion scars testifying to last night’s fierce battle, though not a single corpse remained. Only lingering golden particles shimmered resplendently in the sunlight.
Turning, he saw Lu Qingtang sleeping with her head tilted back against the stone bed. The young mistress’s delicate pink robes were smudged with dust and stained with dark splotches resembling dried splattered liquid.
Her usually fox-like features were smeared with grime, resembling a soiled snow bunny. Even in sleep, her brows remained furrowed as if bearing the world’s sorrows.
Jiang Xunbai felt something that had taken root in his heart long ago now break through the soil, rapidly growing lush branches adorned with fragrant blossoms.
Seeing Lu Qingtang in such a state, an inexplicable pang of heartache arose within him—perhaps because he had dragged her into this.
Jiang Xunbai thought to himself.
He couldn’t resist reaching out, but just as his hand was about to touch Lu Qingtang’s cheek, he suddenly realized something. His jade-white, slender, and well-defined hand paused mid-air. He clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly, but in the end, he gave up.
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he withdrew his hand and let it fall to his side.
His gaze enveloped her, tracing her features inch by inch in his heart. He seemed to see the image of the young girl, her eyes reddened, continuously throwing Fu Zhi (Talisman Paper).
She must have been terrified.
It was all his fault.
He hadn’t protected her well enough; he had dragged her into this; he had made her cry.
Author’s Note:
As everyone knows, heartache is the beginning of falling in love, hehehe.
Jiang TangTang, you’re done for—you’ve fallen head over heels.
TangTang is still in the stage of revolutionary friendship for now.
About the third fun fact of the little couple:
Jiang TangTang loves eating sweets because the pain during the full moon nights is too intense. Sweetness numbs his nerves, allowing him to ignore the pain.
TangTang is naturally not very attuned to matters of love and affection, so her favorability level toward Jiang TangTang is different from our usual definition where 60% is considered friendship.
When her favorability is 0, everyone is the same to her. As her favorability increases, Jiang TangTang becomes more and more special to her.