She remembered it was when Si Lan had just awakened after being severely injured. Opening his eyes to see Xin Mei standing by the bedside, his first reaction was to fly into a rage.
“Why are you still here? Why didn’t you chase after the General?!”
Xin Mei was baffled: “He wanted to kill me—should I chase after him to die?”
“I’m not telling you to go die!” Si Lan was truly angry for the first time. “You could choose not to chase! You could continue pretending your calm ignorance! But you shouldn’t be so indifferent! As long as the General likes you, no matter what he becomes, you don’t care?! Whatever happens to him, you just play dumb and wait on the sidelines, doing nothing, waiting for him to return and continue doting on you, and you’ll be happy?”
“…Si Lan, you seem to have a fever and are talking nonsense. I’ll go call Scholar Zhao.”
She walked to the door and heard Si Lan’s icy voice: “Actually, you don’t like him at all! You just like having someone cherish you and give you everything. As for what this person thinks, what he cares about—you don’t care at all!”
The door opened and she walked straight out. Scholar Zhao stood awkwardly at the door holding a water basin, watching her.
“That… young lady…” he said hesitantly, “I don’t want to be nosy, but you acting like nothing happened and wandering around the Imperial Tomb all day really isn’t quite right…”
Perhaps she should be like those women in the plays—when their husbands encounter trouble, immediately toss and turn sleeplessly, lose their appetite, even cry until their faces are streaked with tears, wishing they were dead. That way everyone would feel more comfortable.
“I…” Xin Mei thought for a while before continuing, “I’m not uncaring or indifferent.”
That night’s events came too suddenly, so much so that even now she still felt Lu Qianqiao might return safely at any moment. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought of chasing after him, but what use would it be besides getting killed and leaving Lu Qianqiao alone with regret and pain?
“Miss, you don’t trust the General.”
…
“At the root of it, you protect yourself too well.”
From their first meeting to their marriage, she and Lu Qianqiao had proceeded smoothly. Even when there were slight disturbances, they passed like floating clouds. She had always been supremely confident—as her father said, no one in the world could bully her; she was only capable of bullying others. So as long as she wanted something, Lu Qianqiao could definitely achieve it. She said he wouldn’t die, so he would definitely wake up.
Now she thought Lu Qianqiao would definitely return as if nothing had happened.
How could he not return?
She had even seen him in dreams, walking alone with a long whip in the snow, looking around in all directions, as if not knowing where to go.
She chased after him and asked: “Lu Qianqiao, where are you going? Why won’t you come back?”
She had long stopped being angry or caring about him choking her neck or trying to cut off her head with a long whip. She was a magnanimous and virtuous wife.
But he said: “Xin Mei, I have nowhere to go.”
The place he loved most, he now most wanted to destroy. The person he loved most, he now most wanted to kill with his own hands.
He had nowhere to go.
Xin Mei woke with a start, feeling she suddenly understood his state of mind at this moment—his despair, which she had never even tried to imagine.
“Awake? Then please hold on tight—we’re about to start bouncing up and down.”
An unfamiliar yet somewhat familiar voice sounded overhead. Xin Mei craned her neck up, but before she could see clearly, she felt a violent shaking beneath her. She rolled from a height onto the ground, then bounced up and crashed back down, feeling like she’d become a small pebble.
“The… the mountain is collapsing?!”
She instinctively grabbed whatever she could reach, immediately eliciting a pained cry from across. Looking closely, she saw the great monk of the Fox Clan awkwardly stretching his neck—she was gripping his hair tightly, pulling until his face turned the color of vegetables.
Xin Mei stared at him steadily and blinked. He blinked back.
A slap instantly landed on his face, directly knocking off a layer of skin… wait, a layer of skin?!
The great monk covered his face and wailed: “Isn’t your strength a bit too much?!”
After speaking, he lowered his hand and turned his face. Indeed, the left side of his face was red and swollen, and that face was completely different from before—still ordinary and forgettable, but the nose and mouth were completely different.
“Hey, your face…”
Xin Mei leaned over, ignoring his shy and embarrassed resistance, prying apart his blocking hands and staring at him seriously for a long while before saying: “You’re wearing the legendary human skin mask!”
The great monk coughed quietly, quite embarrassed: “There is a mask, but it’s not human skin.”
Xin Mei pinched his facial skin and pulled hard, making him scream repeatedly. With a “swoosh,” one mask fell off—the face of Passerby A. With another “swoosh,” another mask fell off—the face of Passerby B.
She pulled off more than ten masks in succession. Looking at them, she felt there were still more, but finally couldn’t pull anymore.
“You actually have no face!” she was shocked.
The great monk looked up at the sky and silently shed tears. No, he had a face, he really had a face…
“Setting aside that I’m already married,” Xin Mei’s expression softened, becoming pitying and gentle, filled with the superiority of a benefactor and gentle rejector, “just based on you having no face, I wouldn’t elope with you either.”
…Could he jump off this long carriage? Could he? Could he?
Suddenly there was another violent trembling beneath them. Xin Mei rolled directly to the ground, only then realizing they seemed to be inside that luxurious and impressive long carriage. Everything inside the carriage had already toppled over chaotically, and the great monk, pale as a vegetable, was rolling around on the ground with her.
“This carriage is yours, right? Just letting it shake apart like this?!”
Xin Mei bumped her head against the carriage wall and immediately felt dizzy.
The great monk could only smile bitterly: “Someone’s chasing us from behind. At a time like this, don’t be too demanding.”
Xin Mei struggled to prop herself up, grabbed the window sill, and leaned half her body out. In the misty high sky, there was indeed a spirit horse chasing behind them. The rider vaguely wore white clothes, but the carriage was shaking violently, making it hard to see clearly.
A strong wind blew past, dispersing some of the hazy clouds, and that white-clothed figure seemed to draw ever closer.
Xin Mei saw a pair of blood-red eyes.
Someone from the War Ghost clan!
She raised her hand to wave, but suddenly that person drew a long bow. The sharp sound of cutting through air suddenly rang out as an iron arrow left the string, shooting straight toward her face.