Bai Zhanfeng nodded, supporting Elder Bai as they left. Soon, he returned, placing several large jars of wine on the table.
"Xianyue, since we met, I've never truly had a drink with you."
Xianyue looked at Bai Zhanfeng, sensing that, like Elder Bai, he was weighed down by unspoken burdens. If drinking could coax these words out, letting him release what was trapped inside, perhaps it would do him good.
From Elder Bai's words, it seemed that the woman in question wasn't particularly generous. Today she wasn't here, thankfully. Xianyue didn't mind dealing with difficult people, but if the woman were her friend's wife, things could grow complicated.
However, regardless of who she was, she was Bai Zhanfeng's wife, the one destined to be his lifelong companion. So, no matter what, she wished for them to find harmony together. Perhaps true, unwavering love was unlikely, but mutual respect would suffice. She didn't want any rift between them caused by her, though it seemed unavoidable now. She certainly didn't intend to avoid Bai Zhanfeng either; that would only bring discomfort to them both.
Bai Zhanfeng had always been straightforward and loyal, never deceiving or using her, even standing up for her on multiple occasions. She truly considered him a friend. Yet, in these times, pure friendships between men and women were rare. Furthermore, Bai Zhanfeng had once openly declared to everyone that she was his.
Elder Bai's judgment was something she trusted, and if he had chosen Chen's granddaughter, she must be a wise person. But in matters of love, even the wisest can lose reason.
"Bai Zhanfeng, have I ever asked if you're happy?"
After finishing a large jar of twenty-year-old rose wine, Xianyue felt a bit light-headed. She didn't recall ever asking. That day, Bai Zhanfeng had come to ask if she was happy, though she knew he wasn't. In truth, neither of them was truly happy. But she didn't want him to hide behind empty words like she often did, claiming to be fine. She had congratulated him on his marriage to Chen Ruoxi, urging him to cherish this rare bond, knowing well it wasn't his true desire. Yet she had no choice; she hoped he would let go entirely and find happiness.
It may have been difficult to hear, perhaps even painful, but he couldn't deny Chen Ruoxi was now his wife. He, like Elder Bai, faced unspoken pressures.
"Isn't that true?" Xianyue pointed a finger at Bai Zhanfeng, laughing.
"In fact, that day when you asked if I was happy, I wanted to ask if you were too—but I held back. Because, honestly, you didn't look happy at all."
Xianyue spoke as she drank, letting the wine's bittersweet taste flood her senses, concealing the ache in her heart. She couldn't confide in her brother, knowing Lan Yixuan would feel the same pain, if not more. She had wanted to pour out her troubles to Bai Zhanfeng, to tell him her suffering was worse than his, but she restrained herself.
Bai Zhanfeng looked at Xianyue. He could tell she was tipsy, though he was not. He longed to drink himself into oblivion too, but ever since that time, he hadn't dared. One mistake had been enough; he feared that inebriation would only lead him to further missteps.
"Bai Zhanfeng, don't make this harder on yourself. You should feel fortunate that now, we're friends, not foes. Whatever may have transpired between you and Elder Bai, he's still your grandfather. Perhaps he's not your only family, but he is your closest and the one who cares for you most. You may think he's too harsh on me, but he's nothing to me—just a stranger. You might believe he sacrificed you for the Bai family, but this is your duty, just as it is his. He's endured countless difficulties he can never speak of. When he sees you suffering, it's certain that he suffers even more. That old man sees more than you realize; he could have chosen Xuan Yuan to mitigate Bai's risk, yet he still chose you. Everything he's done has been for you, whether you see it or not. Bai Zhanfeng, let go of the past, those endless grudges and loves—leave them where they belong. The only thing worth treasuring is the present."
The more she spoke, the more Xianyue's heart ached. Others could cherish the present, but what about her? Her current situation filled her with bitterness; there was no path forward, nor a way to retreat. Every direction brought pain, leaving her devoid of what she truly sought.
"When a tree wishes to be still, the wind never ceases; when a child wishes to be filial, the parent is gone. Bai Zhanfeng, Elder Bai has grown old. One day, when he's no longer here, all the regret in the world won't bring him back."
She wasn't cursing Elder Bai; she was merely stating an inevitable truth. Just as she now looked back on her time with Lan Yixuan, wondering why she hadn't cherished those early days, why they had always clashed, why they parted ways after Beijing.
Bai Zhanfeng's affection for Elder Bai was likely no less than his feelings for her. Otherwise, on the edge of Death Valley, no one could have held him back. A man like Bai Zhanfeng, driven by duty and honor, could not be restrained by mere responsibilities. After leaving Qiutian Mountain Villa, he had challenged various martial arts masters, not for fame but for Elder Bai. He didn't inherit the Bai family out of love but rather a deep unwillingness to let Elder Bai's life's work crumble.
"I understand."
Bai Zhanfeng gazed at Xianyue, her bright, tipsy eyes, clear and vivid, yet shadowed by a sorrow he couldn't quite decipher. They say wine loosens emotions, but strangely, despite his sobriety, he felt a sudden urge to weep.
Men rarely shed tears, but now he felt compelled, for he seemed to glimpse the sadness in her gaze, the turmoil hidden deep within. She wasn't nearly as happy as she appeared.
For the old master, indeed, he harbored resentment—not solely due to the incident at the valley's entrance, which had merely sparked the conflict. Growing up in the mountains, he'd embraced the frank camaraderie of martial circles, despising the scheming and hypocrisy he associated with the political world. Yet his grandfather persistently forced him to accept a reality he loathed, even pushing him to change who he was. He preferred life in the camp, surrounded by men of iron and straightforward hearts, where he felt truly at ease. But at home, with all those flattering visitors' faces, he found only vexation.
Xianyue nodded with a faint smile. "He's already given you a way back. I never thought the formidable Old Master Bai would show such a vulnerable side."
She blinked playfully, grinning as she recalled his tears. Bai Zhanfeng smiled too, feeling surprised—he'd never seen his grandfather like that. He understood his sadness, his struggle and pain, for he shared them; he was no better off.
"And make time to visit him. An old man's heart is lonely, after all. He longs for you to spend time with him. Even a brief visit would make him happy, you know?" Xianyue patted his shoulder. "Bai Zhanfeng, have we somehow switched roles? You've grown silent while I sound like an old nag. Oh, right—I seem to remember needing your help with something… but what was it?"
She rose, tracing circles in the air with her finger, trying to remember through the haze of drink.
"Xianyue, you're drunk. I've arranged a room for you. Let me help you down."
Bai Zhanfeng approached and placed a hand on her shoulder. She had certainly drunk too much at noon; the whole world seemed to spin.
"I don't need your help, Bai Zhanfeng. Let me tell you—I'm not drunk at all."
"Madam, please slow down."
Chen Ruoxi quickened her pace. Since yesterday afternoon, upon hearing that Xianyue's troops had arrived in Yecheng, she had felt restless, yearning to rush to the camp. But she had restrained herself, rising early that morning to visit the camp under the guise of delivering clothes, only to learn that Xianyue and her husband had already gone to Bai Manor. She hurried back, only to witness this scene: her husband supporting a woman inebriated, his usually cold eyes filled with an unfamiliar tenderness.
For a moment, she was dazed, glancing at the woman in his arms. Just as the rumors described, dressed in white, her brow adorned with a vibrant cinnabar mark. But far from the beauty she had imagined, Xianyue seemed little more than a coarse, uncultured woman. Yet her husband, undeterred, was patiently coaxing her. He barely acknowledged Chen Ruoxi, merely offering a dispassionate "You're back" as he continued on.
Chen Ruoxi turned, baffled. What charm could this vulgar, already married woman possess that bewitched him so entirely?