I suddenly recalled the day I cut the red string, how the light in Xie Zhuo’s eyes had extinguished without a sound.
That light, on that day, was merely a casual glance I’d given little thought to. Today, it had become a needle piercing the tip of my heart, stabbing pain through my entire chest.
I gently pushed Xie Zhuo away.
He was still staring at me blankly, seemingly unable to emerge from the lingering effect of my previous words.
“Xie Zhuo,” I called his name, then held his hand tightly in mine:
“Let’s not divorce,” I said. “We… won’t divorce anymore.”
His black eyes stared at me.
In his eyes, there was only me. A pale-faced me, a trembling-lipped me, and a tear-streaked me.
I untied the rope that had bound our waists, wrapped it three times around my wrist, then wrapped the other end three times around his wrist. I bit the end with my teeth and pulled, securing the rope tightly around both our wrists.
“The red string!” I haphazardly wiped away the tears that continued to fall my face, looking at him through blurry eyes. “I’ll reconnect it myself!”
Xie Zhuo didn’t speak.
He lowered his head, looking at the rope on his wrist, seeming somewhat disbelieving, somewhat cautious. He turned his wrist slightly.
The rope was tied securely and wouldn’t break with such a gentle movement, but he still covered the knot on his wrist with his other hand.
He remained silent, head lowered, eyes downcast, his eyelashes casting a shadow beneath his eyes.
I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, so I waited, following his breathing.
“Fu Jiuxia…”
He called my name. I wiped away my tears, heart tense, looking at him.
“The red string… has already been cut,” he said. “It can’t be rejoined.”
In front of Xie Zhuo, I was usually the talkative one, no matter when. But at this moment, I couldn’t say anything.
I watched as Xie Zhuo moved his fingers, gently untying the rope I had bound for him.
He held the rope in his hand.
His gaze toward me was calm and serene: “You don’t need to take the dream seriously. You don’t need to start sympathizing with me because of what you saw.”
He thought I was sympathizing with him.
He untied the rope, speaking words of rejection, but for some reason, watching him like this, I seemed to see the child from my dream again…
His outstretched hand, empty, grasping nothing.
“In the Undying City, malevolent energy runs rampant. Your emotions will fluctuate greatly. You must remain calm,” he said, almost coldly. “Forget what you saw in the dream. No matter what you saw, don’t think about it again.”
I looked at Xie Zhuo.
I didn’t know how long Xie Zhuo had confronted the will of the evil god in the depths of his soul to maintain such calmness now.
I also didn’t know if my current surging feelings for Xie Zhuo were due to love or what he called sympathy.
I didn’t even know if I was truly being influenced by malevolent energy, or if everything in the dream was false.
I was completely at a loss, utterly bewildered, yet I did one thing.
I held his hand.
So that his palm would no longer be empty.
Xie Zhuo was taken aback again. His gaze moved from our clasped hands to me.
“Still, let’s not divorce,” I murmured. “I now know why you didn’t want me to drink or eat spicy food. I also know why you kept things from me. If we can be honest with each other, if we can continue hand in hand. Then… there’s no need for divorce.”
“After we resolve matters here, we’ll return to five hundred years later, and properly…”
Xie Zhuo didn’t let me finish. He directly pulled his hand from my grasp.
I pressed my lips together, looking straight at him.
I noticed that after withdrawing his hand, his breathing had quickened slightly, as if he had exerted all his strength.
He avoided my gaze, turning to look into the distance. After a long time, it seemed like he finally found something to say.
“Dawn has broken. Let’s cover more ground while it’s daylight.”
Without further discussion, he pulled me up, expertly put me on his back, and tied us together at the waist with the rope, just like our journey into the Undying City.
I looked down at the rope around our waists and persisted with my question in his ear:
“So, can we not divorce?”
He had just finished binding us together, and hearing this question again, he seemed to feel there was no escape today, so he finally responded directly.
“Now is not the time to discuss this matter.”
“Then when?”
He fell silent again.
After a long while, he slowly spoke: “After… you’re cured…”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. He leaped forward, carrying me, not using any spiritual techniques, yet effortlessly jumping from the rooftop to another broken wall.