"Who goes there!" Unlike Song Qingshu, Zhou Zhiruo, though not a top-tier martial artist, possessed enough skill to react swiftly. She sat up, her gaze fixated on the intruder's back, clutching the Nine Yin White Claws tightly in her hands, prepared for any confrontation.
"It's me, Zhiruo," the masked figure turned around, lowering the mask to reveal Zhang Wuji's face—the leader of the Ming Cult.
"What is the meaning of this intrusion into our chamber in the dead of night, Master Zhang?" Zhou Zhiruo's voice carried an icy tone, though her vigilance waned as she realized there was no need to be on guard against Zhang Wuji.
"Zhiruo, others are unaware of your marital status. I had to confirm it myself," Zhang Wuji spoke softly, his gaze shifting between the two figures occupying separate beds.
Observing his knowledge of their undisclosed marriage, Zhou Zhiruo found herself torn between happiness and anger. She replied coldly, "Our marital affairs are of no concern to you, Master."
Zhang Wuji approached slowly, a bitter smile on his face. "Zhiruo, I understand that you must be angry with me for not visiting you all these days. I've been preoccupied with organizing the scattered Inner Energy..."
"Oh? And how are you faring now?" Zhou Zhiruo raised an eyebrow, not waiting for his response as she anxiously reached out and grasped his wrist, taking his pulse.
"I've managed to suppress it reluctantly. The Sacred Fire Order and the Great Shift of the Universe are indeed peculiar martial arts from the Western Regions. One wrong move can lead to trouble," Zhang Wuji spoke openly, displaying no resistance as Zhou Zhiruo examined his pulse.
"No wonder your aura feels considerably weaker," Zhou Zhiruo remarked, perceiving a subtle change in Zhang Wuji's demeanor. She attributed it to the aftermath of his ordeal and didn't dwell on it too deeply.
"Zhiruo, your concern for me hasn't faded since our youth," Zhang Wuji expressed his gratitude, affectionately clasping her hands.
Recalling their first encounter on the water, Zhou Zhiruo felt as if she were caught in a reverie. When she looked up, she found Zhang Wuji gazing at her with tender eyes, evoking a flood of emotions within her.
Unbeknownst to them, Song Qingshu, who was presumed to be in a coma, watched the unfolding scene with cold detachment. It turned out that when he was tapped, the residual true energy left in his meridians by Wuming reacted, rousing him from his slumber. However, it was merely a meager revival, a feeble flicker of consciousness. Zhang Wuji, a renowned master of the martial world, had surely mastered the means to unblock the remaining acupuncture points. Yet, Song Qingshu found himself trapped, unable to move, save for his awakened awareness.
As Zhang Wuji gazed affectionately at Zhou Zhiruo, he couldn't resist lowering his head and kissing her tenderly. The sensation ignited a familiar rapid pounding in her chest, reminding her that this indelible love for Zhang Wuji would never fade in her lifetime.
The sudden realization that she had become another man's wife sent a sharp pang through Zhou Zhiruo's heart. She turned her head away, pushing against Wuji's chest to create distance, seizing the opportunity to step back three feet. Tears glistened in her eyes as she glared at him, her voice tinged with anger. "You already have your princess, and I am bound to another as his wife. What do you intend to achieve by this?"
"I don't know," Zhang Wuji shook his head in anguish. "I love you deeply, Zhiruo. The thought of parting ways and becoming strangers is unbearable to me."
Upon hearing Zhang Wuji profess his love, Zhou Zhiruo's heart fluttered, causing her to bite her lip. "And what about Zhao Min?"
"I love her too!" Zhang Wuji's directness caught Song Qingshu off guard. Zhou Zhiruo, too, seemed irritated, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Then why have you come to me?"
Zhang Wuji tore off his shirt, revealing the scars on his chest inflicted by the Heavenly Sword. "Zhiruo, your figure is etched upon my heart, just like the mark left by the Heavenly Sword. My feelings for you remain unchanged. When I heard the news of your marriage to... Senior Brother Song, it shattered me."
Gazing at the faint scar on his chest, Zhou Zhiruo recalled the heart-wrenching moment atop Brightness Peak when the sword pierced through. Emotions swelled within her, and she sighed softly. "Why didn't you come to claim me then? You must know that when Qingshu and I wagered our marriage, I bet that you wouldn't come, but I lost." She smiled sadly after speaking.
"I was foolish back then, believing that Brother Song's love for you would bring you happiness in marriage," Zhang Wuji reached out to hold Zhou Zhiruo in his arms, but she instinctively stepped back. Distressed, he couldn't help but express, "Every day since you got married, my heart has been torn apart. I know I can't let go in the face of true love."
His earnest confession struck a chord within Zhou Zhiruo. Thoughts of Chen Za surged forth, filling her with a glimmer of hope. However, her present identity loomed before her, causing her to speak bitterly, "What good does it do to say this now? I am already Mrs. Song."
"Names mean nothing!" Zhang Wuji's voice thundered with anger. "In my heart, you will forever be the kind and pure girl by the Hanshui River." He reached out his thumb to wipe away the tears on her cheek, but Zhou Zhiruo retreated once more.
Undeterred, Zhang Wuji pressed forward. Zhou Zhiruo's vision blurred briefly, her teeth sinking into her lip as she resolutely took another step back. Lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice an obstruction on the floor, stumbling and losing her balance. In a desperate attempt to catch her, Zhang Wuji lunged forward, but Zhou Zhiruo instinctively resisted. The two lost their equilibrium and tumbled onto the bed.
Due to the obstructed view caused by the table, Song Qingshu remained clueless about the recent turn of events. All he witnessed was Zhou Zhiruo falling onto the bed, as if presenting herself willingly on the pillow. In a panic, Zhang Wuji pressed his body against hers, causing a surge of blood to rush into his throat, leaving him momentarily paralyzed before he abruptly fainted.
As they lay entangled upon the bed, an unspoken ambiguity hung in the air, thick with tension.
Zhou Zhiruo, realizing Zhang Wuji's hand inching closer to the ribbon adorning her waist, snapped out of her daze. She swiftly blocked his advance with her hand, sitting upright with a sudden jolt. Hesitant, she uttered, "No, Qingshu..." She longed to catch a glimpse of her husband lying beside them, but Zhang Wuji's presence shielded her view completely.
"Fear not, I have immobilized him by targeting his vital points. He will remain oblivious," Zhang Wuji assured her, exuding confidence in his martial prowess. Oblivious to the fact that their actions were under Song Qingshu's watchful gaze.
A flicker of realization flashed through Zhou Zhiruo's mind upon hearing Zhang Wuji's words. Observing him brush her hand aside and reach for the bow on her belt, she suddenly snapped back to reality, leaping off the bed.
Seizing the nearby teacup, she splashed its contents directly onto Zhang Wuji's face. Zhou Zhiruo cast a glance at her unconscious husband on the bed, her silver teeth clenching together. "Zhang Wuji, I implore you to have some self-respect."
Startled, Zhang Wuji blinked as the tea dripped from his cheeks, staining the bedding. He looked at Zhou Zhiruo, his embarrassment evident.
"Why didn't you hide?" Zhou Zhiruo felt a twinge of sympathy upon seeing his discomfited expression as she turned away. She asked softly, her tone tinged with a hint of reproach.
"I should have offended you myself; this cup of tea is a small price to pay," Zhang Wuji replied, wiping the tea residue from his face with a bitter smile.