Chapter 071: An Outburst of Anger

The silence was terrifying. Once splendid and opulent, the Liu residence had now fallen into utter desolation. Anything of value within the rooms had already been confiscated by the authorities, leaving only the dried, congealed stains of blood on the beams, beds, and floors, as if silently recounting the horrors that had unfolded there.

Mo Yan’s hands trembled as he entered the room where Jin’er had once lived. At the sight of the bloodstain on the floor, his heart felt as though it had been slashed open by a knife.

Jin’er, his Jin’er… How could this happen? How could it have come to this?

Staggering, Mo Yan collapsed onto a nearby stool, his face pale and devoid of color.

“It’s all my fault, all my fault! If only I had forced you to stay by my side, you wouldn’t have been dragged into this for no reason! Jin’er… Jin’er, I’m sorry…” He raised a hand to cover his face, regret flooding him, his palm damp with the beginnings of tears.

But what use was any of it now? He had found his master, had inquired about a cure for the snake venom afflicting her—so what? If he hadn’t left, perhaps he could have saved her!

“Ah!” Mo Yan cried out in anguish, suddenly rising and smashing his fist down upon the nearby table.

With a violent crash, the square table was reduced to a miserable pile of wood and splinters.

Mo Yan’s jaws were clenched so tightly his silver teeth were nearly broken, his breaths coming in heavy gasps, veins bulging across his hands and forehead, and his once enchanting eyes now blood-red, wild and ferocious.

But what could his rage change now? What could it restore?

In the end, he departed like a lost soul, and as he turned, he swept his sleeve, setting the bed curtains behind him ablaze. In moments, the room was engulfed in a sea of fire.

The wind howled, feeding the flames. Mo Yan’s wine-red hair danced wildly, resembling a mesmerizing blaze shifting in midair.

A single clear tear fell, painting his peerless face with deep sorrow.

How could he believe that the strong, stubborn Jin’er was gone? How could he accept it?

At the dining table, Doctor Chen and his senior brother Wu Ziqi were enjoying wine together. Another year had passed since they’d last met, and they had plenty of new stories to share.

Beside them, Xiao Jiu drank quietly. Ever since Jin’er had left, he’d taken to drinking, his tolerance growing steadily.

Business was slow today, so Qin’er and the other staff had joined them. Seeing Xiao Jiu drinking endlessly, Qin’er was worried but didn’t dare advise him, simply frowning and occasionally placing dishes in his bowl.

After her injury last time, she’d been bedridden for half a month. Xiao Jiu, though still cold and distant, had cared for her daily, moving her deeply. At least he still cared for her, didn’t he?

But how much longer before he could forget Jin’er?

“Hm? Junior brother, what’s wrong with Xiao Jiu? I remember he never used to drink, and he doesn’t look well,” Wu Ziqi remarked, stroking his silver beard and watching Xiao Jiu with curiosity.

Doctor Chen sighed helplessly. “Don’t mention it. I’d taken in a clever, hardworking girl as my apprentice, and I was very fond of her. But later… she left quietly on her own, and since then, Xiao Jiu’s become like this.” His face grew sorrowful.

“Oh? She just left without warning? How could that be?” Wu Ziqi wondered, glancing at Xiao Jiu and suspecting he was involved.

“Forget it, let’s not talk about it. Come, drink.” Doctor Chen sighed, his heart aching, and drained his cup.

Just then, Mo Yan entered from outside, his steps heavy and his face haggard.

“Disciple, you’re finally back. Come here!” Wu Ziqi called with a smile upon seeing his beloved pupil. But he quickly noticed something was wrong.

Mo Yan’s handsome face was drawn and colorless. He sat down heavily, filled his cup from the wine jug, and drained it in one gulp.

Doctor Chen and Wu Ziqi exchanged baffled glances. What had happened? Why were both their apprentices drowning their sorrows in drink?

Qin’er, seated next to Mo Yan, turned pale at the sight of him. Her body trembled as she tried to rise and avoid him, but it was as if she were rooted to her chair, unable to move.

Only after waking from her injury did she learn from Xiao Jiu that he was her master’s favored disciple, which filled her with terror and unease. When her master arrived today, she was anxious all afternoon, relieved not to see Mo Yan, only to be startled when he finally appeared.

“Qin’er, what’s wrong? Why are you so pale?” Doctor Chen noticed her unease and asked, “Are you feeling unwell?”

Xiao Jiu had concealed the events between Mo Yan and Qin’er, only saying she’d fallen accidentally, so Doctor Chen was unaware of their conflict.

Seeing everyone’s attention, Qin’er forced a weak smile. “No, it’s nothing.” She nervously glanced at Mo Yan, who continued to drink without looking at her, easing her worries somewhat.

She was, after all, her master’s apprentice—surely he wouldn’t dare harm her now?

Watching him drink without pause, Xiao Jiu picked up his cup and clinked glasses with Mo Yan, smiling lightly. “Come, let’s drink together.”

Mo Yan froze, slowly turning to glare coldly at Xiao Jiu’s faint smile, a nameless fury rising within him.

“Smile? You can still smile? Jin’er is gone, and you can still smile!” Mo Yan smashed his cup to the floor, roaring in anger.

Everyone present shuddered in fear; the silence was so complete that the drop of a pin would be heard.

Xiao Jiu, seeing the redness in Mo Yan’s eyes, didn’t understand why he was so agitated. But at the mention of Jin’er, his mood soured, and his smile vanished.

“So what if she’s gone? Can’t senior brother even smile? What right do you have to shout at him?!” Qin’er, upset at seeing her brother scolded, forgot her prior caution and spoke out in indignation.

Before she finished speaking, Mo Yan suddenly turned and slapped her hard.

Qin’er had no time to cry out; she was sent flying, crashing to the ground. Her face instantly swelled, marked with five distinct finger imprints, blood trickling from her lips.

The others, shocked already, were now utterly stunned. That slap was brutal!

“You! Senior brother… Master…” Qin’er looked at Xiao Jiu and Doctor Chen, tears streaming down her face as she gently touched her burning cheek, feeling wronged and furious.

How could he bully her like this? She only spoke a single word—why hit her again, and so harshly? Who did he think he was?

“Mo Yan, that’s enough!” Xiao Jiu was first to react, scolding loudly as he rose to help Qin’er, only to be shoved aside by Mo Yan, nearly falling himself.

“Enough? If not for your master’s sake, I’d have killed this wretch long ago! If not for her, how would Jin’er have left? How would she have ended up in the Liu residence, slaughtered with all its people?!” Mo Yan roared, his eyes blazing.

“What did you say? The Liu residence slaughtered? You mean Jin’er… she was there?” Xiao Jiu suddenly realized, his lips trembling, disbelief on his face.

Doctor Chen now understood most of the story, his weathered face filled with shock. Qin’er, lying on the floor, was stunned, forgetting to get up.

“She’s dead! She’s dead! Are you satisfied now?” Mo Yan shouted, flinging his sleeve as he stormed out.

With his departure, it was as if all warmth left the room. The laughter and chatter vanished, leaving only a cold, silent chamber.

Xiao Jiu staggered and collapsed to the floor, his eyes hollow and dazed, tears silently streaming down.

“How could this happen…” the shop assistant murmured, eyes moist, while Doctor Chen wept, his wizened hands trembling as he held his cup.

“My disciple… I’ve failed you…” Doctor Chen choked out, heartbroken. Wu Ziqi, though not fully understanding, guessed most of it, sighing and patting Doctor Chen’s back gently to comfort him.

Qin’er struggled to her feet, head bowed and tears falling, not daring to speak or help Xiao Jiu.

Dead? Truly dead? Heaven, she’s finally gone for good! But why must her death torment everyone? Beneath her sleeve, Qin’er clenched her fists tightly, nails digging into her palms without feeling pain.

Still, she felt a sense of relief. Hearing of her death, even that slap seemed worth it.

Wu Ziqi moved to comfort everyone, and when it came to Qin’er, he awkwardly said, “Girl, don’t take it too personally. My disciple has always been like this, raised in the palace, pampered, and always doing as he pleases. Even I have trouble managing him.”

“The palace?” Qin’er asked, suddenly anxious.

“Oh, I never mentioned it before, Mo Yan is the second prince of Fire Country. He likes to travel and met me four years ago, becoming my disciple and learning medicine.”

Before he finished, Qin’er nervously stepped forward. “Master, please help me—he’s a prince, what if…”

Wu Ziqi understood her worry and smiled. “Don’t worry, Mo Yan values loyalty. Knowing you’re his uncle’s beloved disciple, he won’t harm you. I don’t know the details, but seeing his grief, I doubt he’ll ever return here.”

Relieved, Qin’er nodded shyly and retreated.

Wu Ziqi comforted Xiao Jiu and Doctor Chen once more before leaving. Returning to the inn, he found Mo Yan alone, drinking, a table full of wine.

Wu Ziqi sighed, placing a hand on Mo Yan’s shoulder. “The dead cannot return; you must accept it and move on. I hear there’s a plague in several northern villages. Come with me, change the scenery and your mood. The dead are gone; the living must continue.”

Mo Yan gulped down wine, burped, and looked at Wu Ziqi, drunkenly. “Master, I’m sad. I’ve never been this sad… Can you prescribe me something?”

Wu Ziqi’s heart tightened. His disciple was always cheerful, never this devastated—he must have truly cared.

“Sigh…” Wu Ziqi embraced him, speaking earnestly. “Foolish child, what medicine? No cure for this—only time will ease your pain. Try to let go.”

Mo Yan forced a bitter smile. “Master, I want to go home. I don’t want to do anything now.”

Wu Ziqi frowned and sighed, thinking for a while before nodding. “Very well. Go home, rest for a while, and don’t drink too much. Did you hear me?”

Mo Yan mumbled an assent, hugging a wine jar and drinking deeply.

Wu Ziqi shook his head and left.

The northern weather grew ever colder. Where Jin’er was, snow often fell, now piling up to her calves. But as Liu Ye had said, as long as she kept training, she didn’t feel the cold. Jin’er, eager to drive away the chill and master her skills, practiced harder than ever.

She’d thought of poisoning Liu Ye, but hadn’t found the chance. For now, she kept training, letting him live a bit longer.

Another month passed, and the venom was due to act soon.

That noon, Liu Ye finished lunch and went down the mountain. Every few days he’d go, as there was little food on the mountain besides wild game. Jin’er trained in the yard most of the afternoon before resting. As she glanced around, she spotted a plump gray-white rabbit hopping in the snow.

Salivating at the thought of roasted rabbit, Jin’er considered her growing strength. Surely she could catch it? She leapt up to chase it.

But the rabbit was cunning and fast. Jin’er pursued it without blinking, but it escaped.

Still, she’d managed to run fast and far in deep snow—a sign her stamina and speed had improved several times over.

Hands on hips, Jin’er caught her breath and looked around.

Suddenly, she spotted a cave nearby, its entrance fringed with lush green grasses swaying in the wind, a vivid contrast to the snowy landscape.

Her brows rose—perhaps the rabbit had fled inside? She trudged over.

The cave wasn’t deep, barely ten steps to the end. To her delight, inside was a hot spring, mist rising and warming the small cave.

Excited, she ran forward and tested the water. It was neither hot nor cold, just right for bathing.

Jin’er looked out to ensure no one was around, then returned to undress for a luxurious soak.

She hadn’t bathed since arriving, and this natural snow mountain hot spring would be perfect for her overworked body.

Chilled by the wind as she stripped, she hurried into the water, discovering the pool was deeper than expected, reaching above her waist.

Trying to sit, she found the water too deep, so she dragged a large stone to the pool’s bottom for a seat.

Settling in with her back to the wall, the water reached her neck.

“Ah, so comfortable…” Jin’er sighed, humming as she washed. Touching her chest, she realized she was developing, her body soft and peach-like.

How had she grown so much unnoticed? At last, she was becoming a young woman!

Jin’er giggled, imagining her future figure, her desire to live growing stronger.

She’d died young in her previous life, never even had a chance for romance. Now, with such promise, she wouldn’t waste it!

After washing, she closed her eyes, leaning back to enjoy the warmth. Exhausted from lack of sleep and hard training, she soon drifted off.

Night deepened, the wind howled, and Jin’er slept soundly in the warm spring.

Liu Ye returned home carrying supplies, finding Jin’er missing. He searched the house, realizing he never learned her name. Going outside, he saw deep footprints in the snow, grabbed a torch and fire-starter, and followed them.

Her tracks were scattered, moving quickly—what was she up to? Liu Ye quickened his pace.

The footprints ended at a cave. It was night; the snow outside offered some light, but the cave was pitch black.

“Girl, are you in there?” Liu Ye called, but got no answer. He lit the torch, illuminating the cave, and was stunned by what he saw. He quickly turned away, unsure whether to be angry or embarrassed.

She’d come in here to bathe—and fallen asleep?

“Damn it, wake up!” he shouted, but there was no response.

“Hey! Wake up!” Still no movement.

Realizing something was wrong—she should have woken from such loud calls—he bit his lip and went over.

“Hey!” He approached and tried to shake her shoulder, but the icy cold of her skin alarmed him.

“Girl!” He remembered her cold body before—was she suffering from a recurring cold poison?

Liu Ye hurriedly stuck the torch in the rocks, rummaged through her clothes, and found the white porcelain bottle.

He quickly poured out a pill, opened her mouth, and fed it to her, then pulled her from the water.

To his shock, the spring was no longer warm but almost frozen!

Panicking, Liu Ye wrapped her in her clothes, added his own robe, and carried her out.

Using his lightness skill, he raced back to the cabin, focused only on saving her.

Inside, he brought her to the kitchen, stoked the fire, made up a bed, and covered her with all his bedding.

Her hand was still ice cold, her face white as paper, lips blue. Her pulse was so weak it seemed ready to stop.

Liu Ye grew frantic. Why wasn’t the antidote working? Was it too late? No, it couldn’t be!

His chest tightened; he brought her closer to the fire, rubbing her hands and body, but she remained as cold as a block of ice, unmoved by the heat.

He realized he had to drive out the cold from within. Sitting behind her, he channeled his internal energy to warm her.

Soon, steam rose from Jin’er’s head, her clothes dampened, eventually soaked through, slipping down until only the parts held by Liu Ye’s hands remained.

Unaware, Liu Ye kept his eyes closed, focused on his task.

After two hours, he stopped, opened his eyes, and was stunned by the sight of her bare, snowy back. He awkwardly looked away, his face flushed.

He checked her pulse—her temperature was normal now, a hint of warmth returning.

Relieved, Liu Ye’s gaze lingered on her flawless skin, beads of water glistening and rolling down her shoulders and back.

Suppressing his agitation, he took a clean cloth and gently wiped her body. The feel of her smooth skin made him shiver, his breathing uneven.

He forced himself to finish quickly, then covered her with the quilt.

Opening his eyes, he saw her brow was furrowed; her lips, once blue, were now pale and cracked—she must be severely dehydrated.

He fetched a bowl of water, carefully raising her body and feeding her.

Desperate for water, Jin’er gulped eagerly, choking and coughing violently.

Liu Ye set the bowl aside, patting her chest, annoyed. “Slow down, no one’s fighting you for it.”

Jin’er continued coughing, eyes closed, until she calmed.

Liu Ye tried again, lifting her higher, feeding her more gently. This time, she drank smoothly.

He tucked her in with three quilts, wrapping every edge tightly before leaving.

Outside, Liu Ye calmed himself, the biting wind cooling him and his thoughts.

When had he lost his discipline? Even for a barely developed girl… He clenched his fist and growled, sending snow scattering around him.

After a while, he returned to check on Jin’er, found her stable, and went to his own room.

But seeing his empty bed, he paused, fetched a thick robe, and returned to the kitchen.

He added wood to the fire, hesitated, then lay down beside Jin’er.

The fire crackled, warming the small room.

Though not cold, Liu Ye couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning before sighing, propping his head and silently watching Jin’er.

Her childish face was exquisite, her brows like smoke, her lashes long and curled, her nose delicate with a hint of boldness, her lips temptingly pursed…

Thinking back, she had been a child when he met her two years ago, but now she had the charm of a young maiden. So young, with no makeup, yet already enchanting. Who could imagine how stunning she would become in a few years, how many men she would captivate?

Liu Ye frowned, annoyed at his wandering thoughts. He checked her forehead—her temperature was normal now.

He turned away, closed his eyes, and finally slept.

——————————————————

Early the next morning, Jin’er awoke, heated and gasping.

Her dream was filled with growing warmth and suffocation, and upon waking, she found herself wrapped in three thick quilts, unable to move.

Confused, she recalled yesterday’s hot spring bath, then falling asleep. When she regained consciousness, the poison had already acted, and her body was too weak to reach the antidote in her clothes.

The spring water had cooled, soaking her, and she was overcome by cold, losing consciousness.

But now—she was alive?

Jin’er stared at the ceiling, then at the quilts, exhaling in relief.

Thank heavens, she’d escaped death again. Wait—who saved her? And she’d been in the hot spring… Ah!

Suddenly realizing, Jin’er struggled to lift the quilt and peeked inside.

“Ah!” Her scream shook the roof, sending snow sliding off the eaves.

Beside her, Liu Ye jolted upright, turning anxiously to Jin’er. “What’s wrong?”

Jin’er, shocked and terrified, stared at Liu Ye for several seconds before screaming again, her cry echoing across the snowy mountain.

“Why are you shrieking so early?!” Liu Ye growled, rubbing his ears. Her powerful voice meant she was fine.

“You… you…” Jin’er clutched the quilt, blushing fiercely as she glared at Liu Ye, unable to speak.

Liu Ye watched her, finally realizing why she was so agitated. He stood, ignoring her, and went to the stove, muttering, “I’m not interested in your figure.”

He remembered he’d forgotten dinner last night—no wonder his stomach felt empty. Damn it, he needed to rid himself of this girl before he lost himself completely.

He wisely decided to make his own breakfast, not expecting anything from her.

Jin’er hid under the quilt, her head peeking out, eyes blazing with shame and fury.

Infuriating! Even if he hadn’t touched her, he’d seen her body! And who could guarantee he hadn’t done anything while she was unconscious? The thought drove her mad—how could her nemesis profit so much?

She hadn’t yet avenged herself, but had already “lost her body.” Tears welled in her eyes.

Although from the twenty-first century and not conservative, she’d died at fourteen without ever falling in love. Her reaction to this “first time” was understandably strong, especially since the man wasn’t her beloved but someone she wanted to poison.

“Don’t think you can blame me—I did nothing. If I hadn’t pulled you from the water, you’d be dead!” Liu Ye said, further agitating Jin’er.

She trembled with rage, unable to speak. After a while, she yelled, “Who wants to blame you?!”

Damn it! She’d never expect him to take responsibility for someone about to die.

She really wanted to kill him now!

“What poison did you take?” Liu Ye asked coldly, as if casually.

“None of your business!” Jin’er snapped.

Silence followed, broken by the clatter of pots and pans. Jin’er wanted to ask him to leave so she could dress, but Liu Ye spoke first.

“What’s with your hand?” He’d noticed yesterday that her body was naked except for her left wrist, which was wrapped in cloth. Thinking it was an injury, he tried to examine it, but found it covered in scars, irregular and crisscrossed, horrifying.

Jin’er was startled, quickly checking her left hand, seeing the hated scars exposed, anger and bitterness rising.

“Who told you to look?!” Her voice was icy.

Liu Ye paused, puzzled, and turned to her, seeing murderous intent in her eyes. He frowned. “You care so much about me seeing it? It’s a bit ugly…”

“You have no right to call it ugly! The whole world can call it ugly, but not you!” Jin’er erupted, sitting up and shouting, her shoulder exposed without care.

Liu Ye was stunned, not understanding why, but sensing the scars were connected to that night two years ago.

“Why?” He rarely felt curiosity, but he truly wanted to know now.

“Ha! Why?” Jin’er laughed coldly, memories flooding back, hatred for him boiling over.

“If not for you, I wouldn’t have fallen off the cliff! Wouldn’t have become a test subject for a madman! You think it’s ugly? Every scar here was made by venomous snakes or insects!

Can you imagine being bitten constantly for two years? Can you imagine living on the edge of death, struggling in pain again and again?”

Jin’er almost screamed, tears filling her eyes, refusing to let them fall.

Liu Ye was frozen. So she really had suffered that night…

“I finally escaped, found my only kin, began a happy, peaceful life—and you destroyed it in a single night! Why? What did I ever owe you?”

Her tears finally flowed, her exposed shoulders trembling with emotion.

Liu Ye met her gaze, unmoved by her hatred, his face cold but his eyes betraying shock and a hint of pity. Though not all was his fault, he was undeniably connected—he couldn’t be indifferent.

And though death never bothered him, the torment and threat that befell her stirred worry and sorrow in him.

She had endured unimaginable suffering with her frail, young body, and he had to admit he felt compassion—and a touch of regret. She’d been a helpless, starving child, longing for help, and he…

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