Ge Xin Wei laughed. “Letting you go is best for me. If His Majesty really falls into Zhan’s trap and attacks Yunpei, that’s exactly what I want! Why would I expose anything?”
Huang Bei Shuang looked at her, suddenly realizing that this woman not only resembled her physically but shared a similar temperament. She walked up to Ge Xin Wei and gave a bitter smile. “Did you come to see me one last time?”
Ge Xin Wei returned her gaze, studying the woman who had managed to stop Tiandu’s war, lure Qing Yun to Fentian, and send Ruo Wen into a wild pursuit. “You’re not so special! So why have you captured his heart?” she asked quietly, almost to herself.
Huang Bei Shuang smiled faintly. “Whose heart have I captured? Zhan’s? Or Ruo Wen’s? One is a man who doesn’t hesitate to use me as a pawn, the other is a man who kills and burns to satisfy his desires without blinking an eye. Or is it... Qing Yun, the man pretending to besiege the city outside right now? He’s the most ruthless of all, using me to trap Zhan. So tell me, whose heart have I really captured?”
Ge Xin Wei stared at her. “Just go. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
Huang Bei Shuang pulled her veil back over her face, not sparing another glance as she and Qing Yun’s operative slipped out of the compound.
Ge Xin Wei watched her staggered steps and muttered mockingly to herself, “You say he’s the most ruthless, yet you still chose him, didn’t you? Running without hesitation. Should I be grateful to you... or pity His Majesty?”
Huang Bei Shuang kept running, too preoccupied to think about what Ruo Wen’s women might have thought. All she knew was that in the distance, that black figure and the strong white horse seemed like a sea without water—the closer she ran, the deeper she was submerged.
Until, at last, she stood before him, just one step away.
“Nothing to say now that you’ve seen me?” Qing Yun looked down at her from his horse. “Seems like following Zhan didn’t get you very far,” he added, his mocking tone merciless, as if the past memories had flashed through his mind and disappeared just as quickly.
Huang Bei Shuang looked at him. He hadn’t changed at all—still as handsome and arrogant, with a voice that was both commanding and captivating. She stood there, dazed, as if she still couldn’t believe any of this was real.
When she didn’t respond, Qing Yun put away his whip and simply pulled her up onto his horse. “Retreat!” he shouted.
In an instant, Tiandu’s army lowered all their torches, disappearing like a fiery phoenix into the night.
Qing Yun held her tightly in his arms, a faint smile playing on his lips. He had no intention of retreating to the imperial city of Huguhe. Instead, he planned to take her directly north to Tiandu, where no one would ever be able to touch her again.
As he held her, it felt eerily similar to the way Ruo Wen had grabbed her. In his arms, her wound still ached, and if she lifted her head, she could see his eyes—dazzling like fire and ice!
“I’m happy to see you,” she whispered softly after a long silence, her face buried against him.
Qing Yun, of course, heard her, but he merely pulled his cloak tighter around her, offering no reply.
He didn’t know she was wounded, nor that the blood from her chest had already stained a large portion of his cloak. He didn’t know, even though her breathing was so faint, so light. How could he? The moment he pulled her into his arms, all her wishes had come true, and she had no regrets left. Even if all the decisions she’d made in her life were wrong, loving him was something she’d never regret.
Qing Yun’s embrace was warm—so warm that Huang Bei Shuang could no longer hear the howling wind outside. As they galloped on Feita through the icy blue night, it felt as if there was no one else in the world. As if the raging wind could never tear apart their embrace.
The Bridge of Helplessness (in Chinese mythology, the bridge souls cross after death)—if she had to cross it in this lifetime, she hoped it could be like this, nestled in his arms, passing gently with a touch of tenderness. That way, it wouldn’t be so tragic.
“If I die, will you still blame me for not leaving with you back then?” Huang Bei Shuang asked, her voice barely audible as she breathed in the faint scent of alcohol from him.
Qing Yun’s eyes turned cold, and his grip tightened around her. After a long silence, he finally replied, “If you ever leave me again, I will hate you.”
Love—such a thing is always forged in longing, rooted in pain. Once it is found, it becomes impossible to escape. And the strongest bonds between people come from this—the desire to be together, the fear of time slipping away. Yet, when apart, loneliness persists, and the years feel wasted. Perhaps, in the end, the greatest fear is simply the indescribable, inescapable loneliness… the helpless solitude.
Helpless is the cloud that cannot be broken,Helpless is the wind that cannot be chased,Helpless is the love that cannot be forsaken,Helpless is the desire that cannot be erased,Helpless is the body as cold as water,Helpless is the pride left in a heap,Helpless is the river of tears,Helpless is the cycle of reincarnation.Helpless, so helpless.
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