"I will not let anything happen to you."
Xianyue seemed to possess the ability to read minds, perceiving his thoughts as she released her grip on his arm and intertwined her fingers with his. Their hands clasped together like entwined vines, inseparable by any force.
Her gaze swept gently over those around them, her eyes resolute, like an unwavering rock. Her alabaster skin revealed no hint of the bashfulness typically associated with a girl in love.
"I will protect you for a lifetime."
Xianyue lifted her chin defiantly, her eyes shimmering with rippling water, twinkling like stars in the night sky.
A lifetime—how interminable it seemed. To devote oneself to a single person could be perceived as an unattainable myth for them. Yet, she felt that a lifetime was far too brief. If it were possible, she would wish to stretch their time together across countless lifetimes.
She dared not hope to be reborn into a harmonious family; all she desired was to meet her brother once more. Even without parents, as long as they had each other, she would find sweetness in it. If there truly were another life, she wished for her brother to possess a healthy body, living safely and soundly; she would willingly give everything for that.
Feng Jiulan offered a faint smile, his gaze softening. He too wished to cradle her in his hands for eternity, shielding her from harm.
His Moon was intelligent and exceptional, and few could pose a threat to her. Yet, he remained apprehensive. If there came a day when he truly departed, she must have someone by her side, someone who would always prioritize her, devoted to her wholeheartedly. Even without power or influence, as long as he loved her as fiercely as his own life, that would suffice.
"Brother Feng."
Nian Xiaoyu approached Bai Zhanfeng, clad in a resplendent red garment, like a flame igniting in the winter. She stood before him, cautiously calling out as she noticed the pallor of his face, her once vibrant spirit diminished to a ghostly pallor as she gently tugged at his sleeve.
Bai Zhanfeng shot a sharp glare at Xianyue and Feng Jiulan, his fists clenched tightly, his discontent evident on his face. He huffed, then turned to the cautious Nian Xiaoyu, his dark eyes betraying a flicker of guilt.
What had he endured these years? Why was he so stubborn? Wasn't it easier to give up sooner? Why suffer so much for his own sake?
The flicker of fire in Nian Xiaoyu's eyes dimmed, but she grasped Bai Zhanfeng's hand, pointing at Xianyue and Feng Jiulan. "She is protecting him, Brother Feng; I will guard you for a lifetime as well."
Her honey-toned skin accentuated her dark, shining eyes, which were fixed on Bai Zhanfeng with sincerity.
Xianyue glanced at the earnest Nian Xiaoyu and believed—without a shred of doubt—that every word she spoke came from the heart. Just like her feelings for her brother, perhaps a lifetime was too fleeting for them. But if there truly were a lifetime, they would feel fulfilled.
As long as her brother could endure every illness and accompany her to the end, she would truly be content. And for Nian Xiaoyu, to guard the one she loved for a lifetime, even if he did not harbor feelings for her, was a happiness in itself.
Three years—the most beautiful years of her life, following the footsteps of a man, sleeping under the stars and braving the elements. Her skin, once fair and delicate, had become sun-kissed from exposure. Noticing the rare flicker of guilt in Bai Zhanfeng's eyes, Xianyue couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
"My woman?" She wondered what Bai Zhanfeng's claim truly meant. She was confident but not arrogant; perhaps he had feelings for her, but they had not yet blossomed into love. How could his pain compare to even a fraction of Nian Xiaoyu's?
He and Nian Xiaoyu were childhood friends. In a prosperous era, it might have been acceptable for him to disdain her humble origins. But in such tumultuous times, what about her was unworthy of him?
In this world, for the sake of one's beliefs, what was truly worth sacrificing? Perhaps Bai Zhanfeng had nothing in his heart that would compel him to abandon everything. Their backgrounds were different from others; marriage was never autonomous. If so, why not marry someone who loved him? Xianyue could see that Bai Zhanfeng did not despise Nian Xiaoyu. Why, then, must he respond with coldness?
Xianyue felt confused, yet when she gazed into Bai Zhanfeng's eyes, which reflected pain and struggle beyond mere guilt, a flicker of understanding sparked within her.
If it was not the person she desired, then it mattered little who it was. Especially if there was no one in his heart. Perhaps it was not indifference; rather, it was the fear of being unable to provide her with the happiness she sought, which led him to reject her in the cruelest way.
All around them, the scattered noble youths cast scornful glances at Nian Xiaoyu. They might even be suppressing laughter at her expense, mocking her for her lack of modesty. A girl so unreserved in her affections! Yet, they refrained from vocalizing their derision, stifled by the presence of Bai Zhanfeng and Nian Xiaoyu's father. Who were they to judge? Compared to those devoid of true feelings, Nian Xiaoyu understood the true nature of love and pain.
The atmosphere suddenly turned cold, all eyes fixated on Bai Zhanfeng as if awaiting his reaction. The corners of their lips curled into a mocking arc, like spectators anticipating the next act of a play, eager for fodder for their idle chatter.
Bai Zhanfeng pressed his lips together, resembling a curved blade, as he regarded the earnest Nian Xiaoyu. His lips moved, yet in the end, no words emerged. His deep, night-like gaze held guilt, hesitation, and conflict, but none of the love she yearned for—not even a trace of tenderness.
The light in Nian Xiaoyu's eyes gradually faded, leaving her increasingly pale and despondent. Her dark, onyx-like eyes shimmered with a resolute determination, concealing within them the tumultuous pain she bore.
Xianyue could see that Nian Xiaoyu was pressing Bai Zhanfeng, just as she was compelling herself to do something she had never imagined she would.
Three years spent pursuing a man across endless distances, yet he had never responded, enduring rumors and whispers while he never turned back to acknowledge her. Even with a heart full of love, there comes a day when it may fade, and eventually, the heart grows cold, weary of striving.
But to give up was a formidable challenge, especially when he had no woman of his own by his side.
Nian Xiaoyu bit her lip, the metallic taste of blood lingering in her mouth. Her black-onyx-like eyes began to glaze with unshed tears, slowly pooling in the corners as she stubbornly refused to let them fall.
Her father scolded her, "How can a young lady have no sense of dignity?"
The beloved daughter of the esteemed leader of the martial arts alliance held an identity that rivaled those of royal daughters, even in these chaotic times.
She had her own pride and dignity. She despised the whispers behind her back, the disdainful glances when her name was mentioned. She longed to live proudly, carefree and unrestrained like Xianyue, but that seemed beyond her grasp.
She had never understood where she fell short, why Brother Feng could not see her at all. She had questioned herself, even confronted him in a tone of inquiry, yet humbly offered to change if he simply spoke up. Yet he told her she was perfect; if that was the case, why couldn't he be with her?
Nian Xiaoyu harbored feelings for Bai Zhanfeng, and everyone in the Zhou Dynasty was well aware of her unrequited love. He declared that the woman he chose must defeat him, a statement she had always recognized as nothing more than a convenient excuse to deny her. Yet, what did it matter? In all the world, was there any woman who could truly surpass her? Forever, there was not. No woman stood by his side, nor would he ever be moved by another. She firmly believed that if she persevered, it would ultimately be her who stood beside him. Thus, she foolishly pursued him without contemplating what she had missed or lost, fixated solely on the figure that was so near yet eternally out of reach.
However, now every belief and conviction she held deep within was utterly shattered. It turned out that there truly existed someone whose sole purpose was to crush all her dreams and hopes.
With blurry vision, she gazed at the faces around her—young and handsome, their smiles danced before her eyes. She understood their mockery, but for the first time, she tucked all her feelings away in her heart.
She watched Xianyue as their fingers intertwined with those of the Crown Prince of Fengguo. The aloof boy from the rumors bowed his head, tenderly smoothing Xianyue's tousled hair. She had never imagined that the carefree and reckless girl could possess such a gentle side. The golden sunlight bathed them, creating a warm halo that imprinted on her mind.
A bittersweet ache enveloped her heart, akin to having consumed an entire jar of vinegar on an empty stomach. That sourness fermented within her, flooding her chest, overwhelming her to the brink of tears. She felt envious—truly envious—if only Brother Feng could treat her in such a manner, she would willingly embrace death.
She was gambling, wagering her dwindling dignity in hopes of sparking a change of heart in Bai Zhanfeng. She wished for him to be like any other man, valuing face above all else. If that were the case, he would clasp her hand as well. Yet, she never dared to hope for him to reciprocate her love. All she desired was to be by his side.
From the very beginning, her love had been as lowly as dust. She waited in silence, but Bai Zhanfeng never held her hand as she had dreamed. Instead, despair enveloped her heart, now a desolate expanse overgrown with sorrowful yellow grass.
She bit her lip, her eyes wide with fear, gradually loosening her grip on Bai Zhanfeng's sleeve. Indeed, the woman who could defeat her beloved really existed, clad in a bright white garment, so strikingly vivid.
Countless times, she had contemplated giving up, yet each time she faltered. After just a few days apart, she would find herself frantically searching for him, coming up with a thousand and one reasons to seek him out. But now, not even those myriad reasons could sustain her resolve.
A sharp pain pierced her heart, as though thousands of ants were writhing and gnawing at her insides. She yearned to cry—not only for herself but for Brother Feng as well. Torn between laughter and sorrow, she hoped he would understand love, realizing how deeply he had hurt her. Even if they could not be together in the future, he would never forget her, remembering the foolish girl named Nian Xiaoyu who had chased after him for three years.
Yet, she felt reluctant; if he were to love as deeply as she did, experiencing that soul-crushing agony, she wished for him not to become a second Nian Xiaoyu.
Her fingers slowly withdrew from his arm. In that moment, she felt as though her very being had deflated, and she tipped backward without any struggle, surrendering herself. She imagined she would crash to the ground, hard and heavy, perhaps in a few days, rumors would spread through the Jianghu, claiming that Nian Xiaoyu had been rejected in love and attempted suicide.
She managed a weak smile, her heart fluttering painfully. She did not fall onto the cold, hard floor but rather leaned against a warm, solid chest.
"Little Junior Sister, are you all right?"
A familiar voice of concern hovered above her, its breath tinged with urgency.
Nian Xiaoyu nestled quietly in his embrace, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, as if trying to draw warmth from him.
"Xiaoyu."
The authoritative call was imbued with an overwhelming sense of helplessness, carrying with it a depth of experience she could never fully comprehend.
Nian Anba approached, enveloping her in his arms, gently patting her shoulder. No one would ever know that the girl as radiant as fire, in her father's embrace, wept like rain, forcing herself to remain silent.
She was stubborn and proud, always wishing to live like a phoenix, soaring high.
"Master."
Bai Zhanfeng stepped forward to Nian Anba, cupping his fists and bowing in respect.
Nian Anba regarded him with a glance, holding back any significant reproach, simply gesturing for him to leave.
Bai Zhanfeng looked at Nian Xiaoyu, leaning against Nian Anba, her back bent, shoulders trembling violently. He then turned to the man beside her and bowed. "Senior Brother."
The man remained silent, merely nodding in response when their eyes met, his face devoid of any smile.
"This place is quite lively."
As the sound of jingling jewels filled the air, the curtains at the entrance of the VIP section were drawn back by several eunuchs. The melodic voices grew nearer, and upon turning to the source, it became evident that members of the Zhou Dynasty's royal family and aristocracy were arriving.
King Huai of Zhou, clad in a resplendent yellow dragon robe, glittered under the sunlight, with golden threads outlining the nine-clawed dragon, exuding an aura of majesty that commanded reverence. Yet, the King bore a scholar's demeanor, with a refined appearance and a gentle gaze. He smiled broadly, his ears long and reminiscent of a Maitreya Buddha, making him appear approachable. This peculiar combination elicited chuckles, rendering him somewhat comical.
Walking beside him was not the reigning queen or a favored consort, but Ning Yunyun, dressed in a deep crimson palace gown with a trailing hem. The jade belt at her waist was adorned with a blazing phoenix basking in sunlight, signifying her rise. Her voice was crisp and cold, and her pointed chin raised defiantly. Having been noble and dignified her entire life, surrounded by this throng of officials, she resembled a queen, forever receiving the admiration of her subjects.
Following closely behind her was a younger man, dressed in extravagant garments—likely a prince of the Zhou Dynasty. A multitude of high-ranking officials and revered martial artists trailed behind them.
It was no wonder the world claimed that the Zhou Dynasty's fortune had waned. As a king, his comical appearance was forgivable, yet his penchant for literature over governance was not. His sons, mere shadows in front of the princess, followed her obediently, all smiles, devoid of any discontent. In such turbulent times, what hope remained for such a royal family? Without any ambition, it was no surprise that Ning Yunyun would claim the entire Zhou Dynasty as her dowry.
She took a few steps forward, smiling gently, her expression serene. Her lips curved into a subtle smile, beautiful and enchanting, devoid of any frivolity, in stark contrast to Xianyue, which inspired a sense of crudeness.
The lofty princess of the Celestial Dynasty, of noble status and poised demeanor, was indeed the ideal choice for marriage among those of high rank and privilege.
The entire VIP area buzzed with guests yet was strangely hushed. Lanyi Xuan couldn't help but direct his gaze toward Xianyue, assessing her with keen interest before clearing his throat softly.
Xianyue turned around, glancing at Lanyi Xuan, whose face was adorned with faint amusement, and let out a carefree laugh. Her eyes sparkled, and as she smiled, her teeth were fully visible, her joyous laughter bubbling forth with delightful abandon.
Xianyue understood his intention. As women, she and Ning Yunyun were worlds apart, one residing in the heavens, the other on the ground. She could choose to wear a facade of pretense, living a difficult life like Su Zhixin, but she preferred to live freely and joyfully like a bird. However, she was acutely aware that she was merely a gilded canary destined to return to a splendid cage. She had no regrets; it was her choice. But now, she longed to live unrestrained.
Ning Yunyun observed her interaction with Lanyi Xuan, while Junpin Yu and Xuanyuan Hao were both drawn to the delicate figure in white. There was no need to mention Bai Zhanfeng; his feelings for Xianyue were evident to all. Her eyes, fleetingly tracing the tightly clasped fingers, revealed the tension in her hands hidden beneath her sleeves.
Despite the gradual decline of the Zhou Dynasty, Ning Yunyun remained a princess of the Celestial Dynasty, having lived a life of luxury. Now, suddenly cast as a supporting character to another woman, a nameless girl from the Jianghu, how could she swallow that pride?
Her exquisite smile momentarily faltered, resembling perfect glass marred by a sudden crack: "Xianyue, it's a pleasure to see you again."
She approached Xianyue, affectionately grasping her hand, reminiscent of long-lost friends.
Xianyue allowed Ning Yunyun to lead her away, reinforcing her earlier resolve.
The elegant white swan could not tolerate the presence of a once-ugly duckling transformed into a swan. She smiled, but she was not the ugly duckling; she had always been a white swan.
Her smile, however, lacked the gentle warmth she once displayed in front of Feng Jiulan; the upward curve of her lips now bore a cold and sarcastic edge.
She held Xianyue's hand as they faced Feng Jiulan. Years of enduring physical torment had rendered his face translucent and pale beneath the sunlight, his eyes darkened and deeply set, giving him an unsettling yet striking beauty.
Feng Jiulan gazed at Xianyue, his smile morphing into a deep well of tenderness, akin to a river yearning to drown in its depths. Ning Yunyun struggled to find the right words to describe this, sensing a purity and warmth, reminiscent of pear blossoms freshly washed by rain, untouched by dust.
She could not comprehend how someone born and raised within the palace could possess such a smile—perfect, as if descended from the heavens, pouring forth all its beauty.
"Princess," Feng Jiulan said, his smile soft and genuine as he inclined his head, a warmth lingering on his countenance that inspired affection.
Standing behind them, King Hui of Zhou looked at Ning Yunyun beside Feng Jiulan, his eyes reflecting a moment of surprise. After pondering briefly, he smiled knowingly.
"How has the Phoenix King been lately?"
The corners of his pale face crinkled with laughter.
"Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty. My father is in good health," Feng Jiulan replied, exuding humility and poise.
King Hui of Zhou laughed heartily, "That is wonderful news!"
"With a good-tempered Phoenix King, it is only fitting to consider suitable candidates for the crown princess, is it not?" he asked directly.
Feng Jiulan glanced at Ning Yunyun beside Xianyue, his eyes losing their warmth as he replied, "None as of yet."
King Hui's laughter grew more jovial. Ning Yunyun pursed her lips, her smile revealing a hint of concealed triumph. Releasing Xianyue's hand, she turned to face the assembly, while a eunuch behind King Hui bowed and hurried to the forefront, addressing the gathering: "The emperor has prepared a banquet in the Qingning Palace. I invite all young gentlemen, heirs, and esteemed officials to proceed."
Ning Yunyun turned to Xianyue, once again adopting her lofty demeanor, radiating confidence: "Sister Xianyue, will you accompany us?"
Xianyue smiled back. Ning Yunyun was indeed an astute woman; after all, how else could she marry for the empire? Sister Xianyue—how should she interpret that term of endearment? What justified her unwavering confidence? Was it her beauty, her power, or something else entirely?
If she were undesirable, would her brother have chosen her?
The eunuch who had spoken led the way, and several people followed behind him. Ning Yunyun looked at Feng Jiulan and, with a casual elegance, said, "After you."
Her voice was direct, devoid of any exaggerated femininity.
Feng Jiulan smiled at Xianyue, stepping closer to her, affectionately ruffling her hair, his eyes filled with tenderness as he took her hand. "Let's go."
Xianyue tilted her head back, smiling softly, "The palace feels stifling; I don't wish to go."
At the mention of the palace, her nose crinkled slightly. Lan Yixuan, preparing to leave, turned to gaze at Xianyue, a flicker of shock in his eyes, though it vanished quickly, replaced by a gentle glimmer.
Jun Pinyu and Xuanyuan Hao exchanged astonished glances, each reading the other's surprise.
"Your Highness," Yun Qinghen called softly, trailing behind Feng Jiulan.
"We shan't attend," Xianyue declared, pulling Feng Jiulan's hand as they moved away from the crowd, Feng Jiulan following her lead.
If the moon wished to refrain, then so be it; such palace banquets were undeniably tedious.
"If you find it dull, then feel free to leave," one of the princes in line suddenly stepped forward, blocking Xianyue's path.
Unlike the other princes, he was notably robust, with a powerful build, clearly honed by years of martial training. He pointed at Xianyue, his eyes gleaming with menace.
His voice boomed, catching the attention of those near the exit, who halted and turned to witness the unfolding drama.
"Third Brother," Ning Yunyun called gently, "If Sister Xianyue does not wish to go, let her be."
Arrogant in his privilege, he believed that such a display of disdain could not be long tolerated; perhaps it was better for the men to see her true nature.
"Out of respect for Sister Yunyun, I shall overlook your rudeness," Xianyue replied, raising an eyebrow with uncharacteristic generosity.
Rudeness? How could a prince of the heavenly dynasty endure being labeled as such? He felt an urge to retaliate but, fearing Feng Jiulan, he shot Xianyue a venomous glare, "Someone as lowly as you would only tarnish the halls of Qingning Palace."
Lowly? Xianyue's brows furrowed, quickly noticing Feng Jiulan's displeasure, his icy demeanor emanating a palpable fury. Yet she felt a rush of sweetness in her heart. Turning swiftly, she seized the third prince's wrist; with a sharp crack, his powerful arm wilted like a withered flower, the once arrogant prince now writhing in pain on the ground.
"Sister Xianyue, what have you done—"
From behind, the Feathered Forest Army rushed in, surrounding Xianyue, Feng Jiulan, and the injured prince. Ning Yunyun watched the fallen prince from her crouched position, gazing up at Xianyue, who appeared surprisingly unbothered.
"My moon shall never be subjected to another's slander," Feng Jiulan asserted, gripping Xianyue's hand as he stepped toward Ning Yunyun, who looked up at him in astonishment. "A lowly person?"
He let out a cold grunt, and the air around him seemed to freeze.
Such a chilling demeanor! Ning Yunyan watched as Feng Jiulan transformed from a gentle figure into someone utterly different. She slowly rose to her feet, struggling to comprehend this abrupt change; the person lying on the ground was not merely a servant, but a prince of their Zhou dynasty, not to be so carelessly harmed.
Feng Jiulan's gaze swept over the faces of the stunned onlookers. "My Moon is the golden phoenix of the Feng Kingdom, exalted and destined to receive the adoration of the entire realm."
He positioned Xianyue in front of him, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. With a tender tone, he gazed skyward as if a phoenix reborn truly graced the heavens.
The golden phoenix of the Feng Kingdom? Elevated above all? To receive the worship of the entire populace? The crowd scrutinized Xianyue from head to toe, wondering if the crown prince intended to elevate a woman of the jianghu to the status of his consort.
His eyes then fixed on Ning Yunyan, icy and piercing, sending shivers down her spine. "You are the princess of Zhou, while Xianyue is the precious jewel of our Feng Kingdom."
Feng Jiulan grasped Xianyue's hand tightly yet with utmost care, as if afraid of causing her pain, this tenderness enveloping her like a protective embrace.
Ning Yunyan observed their retreating figures, still grappling with the implications of Feng Jiulan's words. She witnessed him lead Xianyue to the railing, lifting her hand high above his head. "Feng Xianyue, the princess of the Feng Kingdom!"
Each word resonated with authority and pride, infused with delight. "My Moon will forever be the most esteemed lady of the Feng Kingdom."
Even the mother of a nation could not compare.
Suddenly, several gray figures emerged from the azure sky, soaring in from all directions, kneeling before Xianyue and Feng Jiulan. "Long live the princess!" Their harmonious voices rang out, laden with profound respect, reverberating through the air.
The revelation rippled through the crowd.
The Xiyue princess? They regarded Xianyue with disbelief, recalling the girl who had made waves a decade prior, now regarded as a near-divine figure.
Just as Nian Xiaoyu adored Bai Zhanfeng, the Feng Kingdom's Xiyue princess was well-known for her bond with her brother.
At merely four years old, she had cunningly captured the true culprit behind an attempt on her and the Feng prince's lives. In the grand hall, she had eloquently commanded the attention of all, unwavering in the face of danger, even ruthlessly confronting her own wet nurse, who had doted upon her.
The most captivating tale was her solemn vow: "I will bear the burdens of this world for him; I will shield him from all calamities!"
Such ruthless determination—who could accuse her of cold-heartedness? She was the most devoted person alive, though her fierce loyalty had been entirely devoted to her brother.
Afterward, she vanished from the palace, fading into obscurity, and no one could have anticipated her appearance at this martial arts assembly, much less her ascension to prominence.
A princess was expected to be pampered, cloaked in luxury, surrounded by servants—no one would envision her possessing such formidable skills.
They were warriors, well aware of the hardships and sweat that molded their craft.
Even as a woman, she commanded respect.
The princess of the Feng Kingdom? Ning Yunyan clenched her fists, her long nails digging into her palms, a viscous liquid seeping forth, yet it did little to quell her resentment. She forced a smile, striving for the carefree joy of days gone by, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not achieve it.
As she gazed at the sea of gray-robed figures kneeling before Xianyue, she looked skyward, consumed by bitterness. Why, in a world that contained her, Ning Yunyan, did there need to be a Feng Xianyue?
She hated her. She truly despised the injustice of it all. The heavens had bestowed upon Feng Xianyue exceptional skills and boundless freedom, surrounded by the finest talents. Before, she had comforted herself, assuring her that she was a princess while Feng Xianyue was merely a commoner—this was where she outshone her adversary. But now, Feng Xianyue stood as a princess, rendering everything she had done a mere joke.
"Yaner."
Zhou Huiwang approached Ning Yunyan, gently calling her name, drawing her back to the present moment, where she had lost composure. She turned, forcing a smile that was strained beyond measure, yet she had no other choice.
No matter what, the princess of Tianchao would maintain her noble demeanor.
Bai Zhanfeng watched the siblings embrace, momentarily stunned. They were siblings? The person she was destined to protect for a lifetime was her brother? This revelation struck him like a thunderbolt, leaving him dazed.
He felt an overwhelming surge of excitement—no, it was more than that; he was nearly euphoric. He couldn't help but grin foolishly.
"He's your brother?" He dashed to Xianyue's side, taking her hand, gazing at her with an innocent admiration that evoked a sense of sincerity.
"Ah."
Suddenly, Nian Xiaoyu, who had been quietly lying next to Nian Anba, let out a wail. The fiery girl, like a wilting vine, slid from Nian Anba's embrace, collapsing to the ground like a puddle, clutching his leg and sobbing uncontrollably.
Many gazes shifted from Xianyue to Nian Xiaoyu, bewildered by her unexpected display of emotion. They had no idea why Bai Zhanfeng had earlier urged her not to cry; everything seemed fine until she erupted into tears.
Her sobs were raw and unrestrained, echoing through the venue, steeped in despair and heartache.
Xianyue nonchalantly shook off Bai Zhanfeng's hand and cast him a scornful glance. Though she disliked the mournful expression in Nian Xiaoyu's eyes and the way she constantly cast herself as her fictitious enemy, she couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship. She would not resort to hurting others in the name of love, as many women did.
Nian Xiaoyu was a vibrant woman who loved fiercely and hated passionately, unafraid of judgment. She admired that courage, but her love was too humble. From the very start, she had been destined to lose.
In love, the one who feels the most deeply often faces defeat—especially when the object of their affection remains indifferent. Inevitably, she would suffer a crushing defeat.
Previously, she had felt heartache but clung to hope. She had someone precious to protect, a sense of belonging, and that person treated her well. They were a loving couple; Bai Zhanfeng would never stand a chance, which meant she still had a glimmer of opportunity, however slim. For her, that was a comfort.
But now, it was over. No woman would willingly witness the man she pursued walking in another woman's footsteps. Bai Zhanfeng's exuberant exclamation had shattered her dreams.
Those cries, those tears, served as a funeral for the beautiful past three years, for the profound love of her youth. Perhaps after the tears, there would come relief. For three years, she had given her all; surrendering would yield no regrets for what could never be.
"Xiaoyu."
Nian Anba squatted beside her, gently patting her back, his frail hand trembling slightly. His voice bore the weight of too many helplessness and concerns.
"Father." The onlookers merely watched, perhaps with sympathy, perhaps with mockery, but no one stepped forward.
Nian Xiaoyu's hands rested on her father's shoulders, her entire being leaning against him.
"Child, let go."
It was not a command from a father to a child, but rather an earnest plea, filled with the deepest resignation and heartfelt sincerity.
Nian Xiaoyu trembled violently, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed incessantly. Bai Zhanfeng stood nearby, observing with the same calmness as the others; if they could not accept her, they should not offer her any glimmer of hope—this was a cruel kindness.
The surroundings fell into a profound silence, punctuated only by the sound of Nian Xiaoyu sniffing. Suddenly, she lifted her head, released her grip on Nian Anba, and stood up, swaying unsteadily before being caught once again by the man who had held her moments ago.
"Little junior sister," he called softly, his voice tinged with helplessness and tender affection.
Nian Xiaoyu broke free from his embrace and wiped away her tears. The man beside her, seeing her distress, took a handkerchief from his pocket, intending to offer it to her, but after a moment's thought, he gently dried her tears himself, saying, "Don't cry."
As he wiped her cheeks, his brows furrowed, reflecting a look of heartbreak.
Suddenly, Nian Xiaoyu grasped his hand, her eyes wide, long lashes adorned with glistening tears. Compared to her usual fiery self, she now appeared utterly vulnerable. "Big brother."
"Please don't cry," he urged, his voice delicate, the simplicity of his words imbued with deep compassion.
Nian Xiaoyu blinked, the teardrops trembling on her lashes cascading onto his hand. She snatched the handkerchief from him, hastily drying her tear-streaked face, her onyx eyes locking onto the blue-clad man with intensity.
"I will marry you."
Today, her elder brother wore a blue robe that mirrored the sky, and although his features were not as chiseled as Feng Ge's, he possessed a remarkable charm that, while not immediately striking, radiated a comforting presence filled with warmth and tenderness.
For years, she had wished that when Feng Ge gazed at her, he would wear a similar expression. Yet despite her persistent efforts, his eyes remained an endless abyss, cold and unfeeling.
"L-little junior sister?" The man in blue stammered, his head slightly bowed. When he looked up, his eyes were aflush with embarrassment, as if he were blushing.
Xianyue couldn't help but chuckle; this man was actually Nian Anba's eldest disciple, yet he appeared anything but.
Upon hearing Nian Xiaoyu's declaration, Nian Anba glanced at the blue-clad man, exhaling deeply, his eyes filled with joy.
Perhaps Nian Anba thought this gentle man was precisely what Nian Xiaoyu needed, someone who could wholeheartedly appreciate her fiery temperament.
Nian Xiaoyu closed her eyes, sighing inwardly. If only she had obediently heeded her father's words, had not ventured to the back mountain, had not climbed the tree to pick fruit, had not fallen, and been caught by Feng Ge—would everything have been different?
She still remembered that day, radiant with sunshine, when she wore a vibrant red riding outfit while Feng Ge donned black, gallantly catching her midair—one glance, an eternity.
True love at first sight does exist in this world, transcending age.
She recalled the time she accidentally broke her father's antique, and Feng Ge, fearing she would be punished, took the blame for her, only to be sentenced to kneel. That night, she snuck into the kitchen to steal buns and freshly roasted chicken for him, and together, they laughed and chatted under the moonlight, sharing a whole night of joy. The next day, she caught a cold, and it was her big brother who cared for her day and night.
She remembered that whenever someone brought gifts for Feng Ge, he would always offer her the first pick.
She recalled the moment she first confessed her feelings, when he gently tousled her hair and laughed, saying, "Silly girl, Feng Ge only sees you as a little sister."
If only she hadn't been so stubborn, perhaps she wouldn't have ended up so wounded.
Clutching the silk in her hands, she recalled his words: "If one day you grow weary and tired, just marry me."
Now, she was truly exhausted.
"Big brother," she whispered, opening her eyes and gently calling out to him, grasping his hand and gazing at Bai Zhanfeng, who stood beside Xianyue, before turning back to the blue-clad man, "Perhaps I will never forget him, but I will try to love you."
The man in blue scratched his head, looking embarrassed, then turned to Nian Xiaoyu, his expression earnest as if to pledge, "I will cherish you for a lifetime and will never let you feel sadness or shed tears."
Nian Xiaoyu nodded, and Nian Anba looked on with satisfaction. "Let's go."
"Bai Zhanfeng, missing out on Nian Xiaoyu will be your greatest loss in this lifetime," she remarked, casting a sidelong glance at Bai Zhanfeng.
She felt fortunate; although they were both women consumed by love, she had not become another Liu Xinyou.
"Little junior sister will be happy," Xianyue mused silently. It was evident that the blue-clad man's feelings for Nian Xiaoyu were as deep as her own for Bai Zhanfeng. If Nian Xiaoyu could genuinely trust her feelings for Bai Zhanfeng, she would find happiness; such a woman was indeed worthy of cherishing.
"What would you like to eat, brother?"
Xianyue shifted her gaze back to Feng Jiulan, waving their interlocked hands. "I will make it for you when we return."
Feng Jiulan smiled, keeping pace with her. "As long as it is made by my moon, I shall adore it."
"Farewell, Your Highness, Princess."