Within the slow procession of black-clad warriors, a black carriage appeared. Its windows were covered with thick, heavy curtains, concealing whatever lay inside.
Beside the carriage, astride a dark chestnut steed, was Shao Ji Zu.
The girl by the river tightened her grip on the bamboo umbrella without realizing it; her heart pounded furiously.
– Was it him? Was he inside that carriage?
The warriors stopped at a distance.
Shao Ji Zu, who had remained silent, gave a slight wave of his hand. Behind him, the warriors from Jin Shi Hall descended from the carriage, lifting down a wooden stretcher.
There was someone on the stretcher.
As the stretcher drew closer, Huo Ling Long’s heart threatened to leap out of her chest.
– Was it him?
The face on the stretcher was one Huo Ling Long knew well—gaunt and pallid as death.
Even unconscious, his brows were faintly furrowed, as if clinging to the last threads of life, struggling against the encroaching agony of death.
His eyes remained shut, his lips pale and bloodless.
A single strand of disheveled hair, soaked through by the rain, clung to his face.
For a moment, Huo Ling Long felt as though she had been transported to another world—a dream, a haze, a drunken stupor.
She simply stared at him.
Suddenly, she realized how much she longed to see him.
– Had she seen him thousands of times? Had she thought of him tens of thousands more? This unyielding yearning haunted her dreams, bound her soul, as though she had been gazing at him for lifetimes before this one—and yet, she knew now and forever, she wanted to gaze at him for eternity.
When would this dream finally end?
“Will there ever be a day, in this life or the next, when we can walk hand in hand, smiling beneath the arch of our brows, and pass through this bustling, fleeting world with nothing but a laugh?”
Shao Ji Zu’s voice was cold as ice: “I’ve brought what you wanted. Where is what I want?”
Huo Ling Long slowly took out the yellow silk but did not hand it over immediately.
Her gaze lingered on the person lying on the stretcher, and she couldn’t help but ask, “Wait a moment… Why… why is he unresponsive?”
Shao Ji Zu’s face looked pale, as if he hadn’t slept for days, and his bloodshot eyes betrayed his exhaustion. Her question only made his tone frostier: “You were at Xi Bridge Dock when he was injured, weren’t you? Was it me who inflicted the poison of ‘Old Friends at First Sight’? Was it me who struck him with the ‘Merciful Palm’?”
Huo Ling Long fell silent. She understood the risks Shao Ji Zu had taken. She couldn’t ask for too much.
– Though she didn’t love him, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she also didn’t want to see him harmed. Was it because the wounds she had already inflicted on him were too deeply etched into her heart?
She bit her lip and said, “The antidote.”
Without a word, Shao Ji Zu tossed her a small vial.
Huo Ling Long grasped the tiny bottle as if holding his very life in her hands. Hesitating, she asked, “How do I know this is the real antidote?”
Shao Ji Zu raised his head, his haughty demeanor unshaken. A cold smile lingered on his lips: “If you don’t trust me, then why bother asking me for it?”
Huo Ling Long found herself at a loss for words.
She owed him—owed him far too much. Now that he had brought Zhan Zhao before her, she had no reason to question him further.
After a moment’s pause, she extended her hand.
With a single gesture, Shao Ji Zu signaled, and his black-clad warriors placed the stretcher directly in front of her.
Grasping the yellow silk, he appeared to breathe a sigh of relief. Yet when he glanced at Huo Ling Long, he realized that her gaze wasn’t on him at all. She only had eyes for the person on the stretcher, her expression dazed and entranced.
He turned his back and walked away without looking back. In the light drizzle, his horse let out a soft whinny.
Behind him, the warriors of Jin Shi Hall followed in silence, their footsteps muffled by the rain and mist.
Huo Ling Long couldn’t see Shao Ji Zu’s face as he departed.
It remained as handsome as ever, an enigmatic blend of ice and fire.
But now, an insidious smile had crept unbidden to his lips.
Huo Ling Long paid no attention to when Shao Ji Zu and his men had left. Clutching the small vial tightly, she rushed to the stretcher.
Her heart was in turmoil—a storm of confusion and panic that left her gasping for air.
– The face on the stretcher was even paler than before, so pallid it seemed almost unfamiliar.
Unable to contain herself, Huo Ling Long softly called out, “You… are you alright…?”
The face, devoid of any trace of blood, had appeared utterly lifeless—yet at that moment, it seemed to let out a faint, almost imperceptible groan, and his chest rose and fell ever so slightly.
– Could it be that he was still alive? Was his life still clinging on, struggling against the void?
Huo Ling Long hurriedly leaned closer and said anxiously, “How are you? Quickly, take the antidote!”
His hand seemed to tremble faintly, as though stirred by some hidden spark of awareness. It was because her cold, rain-soaked hand had already clasped his.
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