Chapter Twenty-Five: Stirred Heart, Aching Soul

Everything about Yinyao had gradually begun to recover, yet she alone remained unawakened.

The next day, Ji Xuanyu opened his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to find that his cultivation had not only stabilized further but had even improved somewhat! It was a rare and welcome piece of good news. However, just as he was about to smile, his eyes caught sight of Yinyao’s peaceful, sleeping face. Instantly, the smile faded, replaced by pallor and a quiet, heavy melancholy. The sorrow between his brows was so apparent. He reached out, wanting to touch Yinyao’s cheek.

“Xuanyu, come and eat something. Then get some rest—you’re exhausted. Yinyao will be all right,” Muye beckoned to Ji Xuanyu, while Gu Xinyu was roasting meat nearby.

Ji Xuanyu heard Muye’s words but did not move away. He simply stayed quietly by Yinyao’s side, carefully studying her face. In this moment, Ji Xuanyu was the very picture of devotion.

Muye saw his state but could not find the words to comfort him. Gu Xinyu shook his head helplessly, then took the roasted meat over to Ji Xuanyu. “Xuanyu, eat something, keep up your strength. If you collapse, who will look after Yinyao?!”

Indeed, Gu Xinyu understood Ji Xuanyu well. At these words, Ji Xuanyu only replied, “Alright,” and took the meat, biting into it fiercely—yes, for Yinyao’s sake, he must keep his strength up! He mustn’t allow himself to faint!

After eating, Muye and Gu Xinyu went down the mountain to look for Ai Shuo, since they didn’t feel at ease leaving him out there alone, especially after he had stormed off in anger. They left Ji Xuanyu behind, trusting that he could handle any unforeseen situation. Now that he was the master of the Cold Spirit Valley, surely no one would dare to trespass.

Ji Xuanyu went to the grass, where the campfire was still burning and a kettle steamed atop it. He took a handkerchief from his robe, soaked it in the hot water, wrung it out, and leapt lightly onto the white jade stone, crouching beside Yinyao to gently wipe her cheeks.

From his robe, he withdrew a sandalwood comb and began to brush Yinyao’s hair. Her long, dark, lustrous hair cascaded to her waist. Ji Xuanyu handled the comb with utmost care, afraid that a careless tug might cause her the slightest pain. His gaze was tender, as if Yinyao were the rarest treasure in the world—no, she was his treasure.

Ji Xuanyu then sat cross-legged behind Yinyao, disregarding his own frailty to channel spiritual energy into her, hoping she would wake soon. This aimless waiting frightened him; all he could do was give his best.

Whenever he felt spent, he would take out a small wooden box from his robe containing the pills Muye had left for his recovery. Taking one, he would swallow it and meditate to absorb its effects.

At night, the moon shone bright and the chill deepened. Ji Xuanyu fetched a quilt from the bamboo house and covered Yinyao, knowing it was unnecessary, but even so, he was willing. He himself warmed by the fire, casting glances now and then at her not far away.

Checking the sky, he saw it was time. He filled a bowl with warm water, added a pill, swirled it until it dissolved, and carefully administered it to Yinyao.

Day after day passed. On the third day, Yinyao had still shown no signs of waking. Muye and Gu Xinyu, still away searching for Ai Shuo, had not returned. Thanks to the medicine Muye had left, Ji Xuanyu’s own health had recovered by more than half, though the great loss of blood could not be remedied so quickly.

On the fifth morning, Ji Xuanyu, as usual, channeled energy into Yinyao, gave her medicine, and began to prepare his own meal. Just as he was about to eat, he suddenly heard a faint, mosquito-like voice.

“Yu…”

He realized it was Yinyao’s voice! Ji Xuanyu could not contain his joy and hurried to the white jade stone, eager to hear clearly what she was saying. He moved his ear close to her lips, afraid of startling her.

“Yu…”—the softest sound entered his ear. For a moment, Ji Xuanyu did not know whether to be happy or sad!

It was indeed Yinyao speaking, but in her unconsciousness, she was calling for “Yu.” “Yu?” He searched his mind for people with that name—Gu Xinyu? Or someone else? It certainly wasn’t him. If only he had told her his real name from the beginning, perhaps she would have called for him now. After all, his real name contained the word “Yu.” Maybe…

So, in Yinyao’s heart, it was Xin “Yu” she yearned for. Ji Xuanyu felt ridiculous in that moment, and deeply regretted ever telling her his name was Chu Suyi instead of his true name, Ji Xuanyu! If only he had, perhaps she would be calling for him now.

Bitter and speechless, he stroked the long hair of the girl in his arms, forcing a wry smile.

Yinyao’s consciousness was gradually returning, though she remained in a coma. In her dreams, she remembered the days she had lived with her mother—so ordinary, so beautiful.

Then, after saving Ji Xuanyu, her life changed in many ways, becoming much more interesting, stirring up the calm waters of her existence.

She recalled the night Ji Xuanyu was dying, teetering on the edge of life and death, her brow furrowing with worry; then she remembered the small mishap between them, feeling a little regret; then saw again his near-loss of control in the forest, almost succumbing to inner demons, and felt a flicker of fear; then his return to reason, his relentless training for revenge, earning her silent admiration.

Her lips curved upward, and from her mouth drifted a single word—“Yu!”

Hearing that light word from Yinyao, Ji Xuanyu’s heart was torn as if by a knife—never had he felt such pain. Seeing the faint smile on her face, he wanted nothing more than to gather Yinyao tightly in his arms and never let go.

“Demon…” Yinyao unexpectedly murmured, her cheeks flushing as if recalling something embarrassing.

Ji Xuanyu was baffled for a moment, but then smiled as he realized—Yinyao had once called him “demon” before! So, there was a place for him in her heart after all.

Looking at Yinyao’s blushing face, Ji Xuanyu suddenly wondered—could she be falling in love with him? But then he laughed at himself. Perhaps she was just lost in her thoughts. Shaking his head to banish such foolishness, he reminded himself that “Yu” would always be first in Yinyao’s heart.

Breathing in the scent that was both familiar and unfamiliar, Yinyao’s heart warmed with joy.

“Yu!” she called out tenderly.

Once again, that word! Ji Xuanyu was no saint—he, too, could feel anger. He leapt to the pond’s edge, no longer looking at the girl on the white jade stone who made his heart ache.

“Demon?”

“Demon!”

“Yu.”

“Yu!”

…

In Yinyao’s dreams, the playful figure of Chu Suyi and the restrained, suffering form of Ji Xuanyu appeared in turn—merging for a heartbeat, then pulling apart.

Gradually, Chu Suyi’s demonic figure became ever more distinct, while Ji Xuanyu’s shadow faded little by little into the distance, until only a blurred silhouette remained.

—Author’s Note—

Mili has no idea how many readers are following her novel each day, nor how many are quietly waiting for updates. My very first featured recommendation met with a dismal end—perhaps it’s just that I didn’t write well enough, t_t. Lately I’ve been considering changing the book’s title. I hope readers can offer me some suggestions. Please, I beg you.