“What kind of life do you think I want to live?” Amber asked softly.
“Sister likes lounging in the cave,” Li Luo replied with a faint smile. “Basking in the sun when it’s out, listening to the rain when it’s not. Eating meat when there’s some, nibbling grass when there isn’t.”
Amber’s eyes reddened.
A life of simplicity and calm, unburdened by ambition or worry—such had always been her dream. Soft, aimless, and utterly useless, it was a dream unworthy of her role as leader of the marten clan.
“I always wanted to become a woman because only a woman can be the clan leader,” Li Luo continued, letting out a rare sigh. “If I could’ve done it, Sister, you could’ve gone and lived the life you wanted. But I failed. I’m the most useless waste there is.”
Amber choked back a sob and slowly bent down to wrap her arms around him.
Whenever he was hurt or lost, he would always revert to his beast form and curl up in her embrace. Warm and soft, it was a fleeting solace for both of them.
Amber knew his struggles. She understood his unspoken desires. But her heart was no longer hers to give—it had already been stolen, and she couldn’t reclaim it no matter how hard she tried.
“I can’t help it, Li Luo,” Amber whispered, holding him tighter. Her hand slipped beneath him, and suddenly, she felt warmth.
It was blood. The sticky texture and coppery scent left no doubt.
Amber’s heart clenched violently. Just as she was about to ask, a figure stepped out from behind the trees.
“He struck first,” Yan Liu said, her voice as gentle and unhurried as her name implied, flowing like smoke and willows. “That little man-spirit seems to care deeply for you. All it took was three words of insult, and he pounced at me for revenge.”
Li Luo leapt from Amber’s arms, his fur standing on end as he positioned himself between her and Yan Liu.
Yan Liu chuckled and crouched, tossing something onto the ground in front of Li Luo. “This is your intestine, isn’t it, little man-spirit? I found it on the way here. Why don’t you try putting it back?”
Amber rose to her feet, trembling.
“He won’t survive,” Yan Liu continued, her voice dripping with mockery. “You should count it yourself—how many lives have been lost because of your cowardice and hesitation? Oh, I forgot—there’s one more now: a marten life.”
Yan Liu’s bloodied fingers ran along the silver thread she held. “With behavior like this, do you really deserve to lead the marten clan?”
“Fight me. Don’t shrink back. Prove to me that you share the same blood as Bi Xi, the one I respected—strong, fearless, and unmatched.”
Amber remained silent, her trembling hands clenching into fists.
“Bi Xi…” Yan Liu murmured, twirling the silver thread around her fingers. Despite the hatred between their clans, her tone carried genuine respect for the indomitable leader who had once stood against her entire tribe.
By the time Xuan Ye and his group arrived, the fight between Amber and Yan Liu was already over.
Yan Liu’s silver thread lay in nine severed pieces on the ground, each stained with Amber’s blood.
Amber stood panting, facing Yan Liu, her entire being emanating an unprecedented aura of bloodlust and murderous intent.
“Ya Jin, help Amber!” Chi Xue cried out in panic, clutching Xuan Ye’s sleeve.
The balance of power had shifted. Yan Liu, as cunning as any fox spirit, understood the need to retreat when the odds turned against her. After glaring at Amber with reluctant resentment, she stomped her foot and, abandoning her usual grace, staggered into the forest and disappeared into the trees.
“Ya Jin, you should have captured her!” Chi Xue shouted after Yan Liu’s retreating figure, still gesturing in agitation.
“Why?” Xuan Ye replied calmly. “What makes you so sure she’s the villain?”
Chi Xue froze, his hand clutching his chest as if in sudden, unbearable pain.
“Because Amber hates her,” he murmured, then turned his gaze to Amber, stepping closer. “But why can I feel your thoughts? Why do I sense your overwhelming hatred… for yourself?”
Amber staggered, clutching her face with both hands. Unable to suppress her anguish, she collapsed to her knees beside Li Luo’s body, her shoulders shaking as she broke into uncontrollable sobs.
“He’s dead.” After checking Li Luo’s pulse, Chi Xue spoke in a hushed tone. “There’s no resentment in him. His soul has left his body and already entered reincarnation.”
Amber’s trembling stilled. Slowly, she lowered her hands from her face. Her amber-colored eyes, vacant and misty, reflected a distant clarity. After a moment of stunned silence, she murmured, “He told me not to seek revenge. He wanted me to live the life I longed for.”
“He wanted to become a woman,” she continued, her voice heavy with regret, “so I could finally be free…” The words carried the desolation of withered leaves in autumn—lifeless and brittle.
Nearby, Yan Zhi, who had been leading them through the forest, crawled over to Amber’s side, curling up at her feet and letting out soft whimpers.
Amber held her close, falling back onto the ground, the two of them leaning against each other, their sorrow and helplessness mirrored in one another.
“Ya Jin,” Chi Xue turned to Xuan Ye, his tone uncertain. “Shouldn’t we…”
Xuan Ye didn’t respond with words. He drew his blade, Yue Ying, and pointed it toward the space just behind Amber.
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