Liu Jinhua had already started a fire and was simmering a pot of millet porridge.
“It’s cold today. Have some porridge to warm up,” Liu Jinhua said, handing Nan Shan a freshly roasted sweet potato.
“Eat a little to tide you over.”
Nan Shan nodded and, turning around, saw Ling Ye staring at her.
So she broke the sweet potato in half and handed him a piece.
“Nan Shan, that’s favoritism,” Xi Yuan said lazily.
Before Nan Shan could reply, Ling Ye spoke first.
“He already ate.”
“He did?”
Nan Shan looked surprised.
Ling Ye:
“Yeah. He already ate.”
Even being exposed didn’t embarrass Xi Yuan.
He just went around to Liu Jinhua and started buttering her up again—and ended up with another piece.
“Flatterer,” Ling Ye said sternly.
Nan Shan chuckled and asked when he looked at her again, “Didn’t Mother give you one?”
“She did,” Ling Ye’s tone softened, “but I didn’t take it. I wanted to wait until you were up so we could eat together.”
Nan Shan paused, realizing this was past his usual mealtime.
Thinking back, their meals had been irregular these past days, but he had never complained.
“Um… can you eat outside regular mealtimes now?”
She asked cautiously.
Ling Ye glanced at her and nodded.
More than just now—he had stopped eating on time ten years ago.
After all, on that resentment-filled Dongyi Island, no one cooked meals for him on schedule.
“Is yours sweeter than mine?”
Ling Ye suddenly asked.
Nan Shan froze, then glanced at her half of the sweet potato.
“It’s the same piece.”
“But yours tastes sweeter.”
He handed her the larger half.
“I’ll take this one.”
Ever since bringing her back, he had been fixated on doing these little things—seemingly trying to draw comfort from them.
Nan Shan wasn’t foolish—she could see what he was doing.
After a pause, she softly said, “Ling Ye…”
But Ling Ye suddenly turned and walked away.
“Father went out to gather firewood. I’ll go call him for breakfast.”
“Ling Ye.”
He didn’t answer and soon disappeared beyond the fence.
Nan Shan sighed.
When she turned back, she saw Xi Yuan watching her with a half-smile.
She hesitated, then completely ignored him.
Xi Yuan had only given her one day to consider…
In truth, she had no choice.
There was nothing to consider.
What she had to do now—was say goodbye.
Distracted, she sat in the courtyard picking vegetables.
Just as she finished the basket, Ling Ye came out of the main room.
“Ling Ye,” she stood up.
“I need to talk to you.”
His gaze flickered, but this time, he didn’t avoid her.
They went to the edge of the village.
Frost had fallen that morning, and the wheat seedlings in the field were covered in a layer of mist, looking like a sea of sugar blossoms.
Ling Ye lowered his gaze, silent for a long while before asking, “What did you want to say?”
“I’m going with Xi Yuan,” Nan Shan said.
Ling Ye froze, his brow instantly furrowed.
“What did he threaten you with?”
Surprised by how quickly he guessed, Nan Shan gave a small laugh and tapped her own neck.
“With this.”
Ling Ye’s eyes turned cold.
He spun around to leave.
“Where are you going?”
Nan Shan grabbed him.
Ling Ye: “To kill him.”
“It’s useless. He used a soul-guiding technique on me. If he dies, I’ll die too,” Nan Shan said.
She had read many jade scrolls on Dongyi Island—some of which mentioned the soul-guiding technique.
Soul Guide, a secret technique from Qingqiu—once implanted, no matter how one hides while alive, they cannot escape the master’s gaze.
The soul can be summoned at any time.
After death, the soul automatically returns to the master’s palm.
Whether alive or dead, one remains under complete control.
“This thing may look like it’s on the skin, but it actually seeps into the bones. As long as it’s not removed, my life and death are at his whim.”
Ling Ye: “I’ll make him remove it.”
“He wouldn’t listen to you,” Nan Shan said helplessly, then told him that her poison had already been cleared.
Ling Ye’s expression darkened even more.
Nan Shan smiled gently and tried to comfort him:
“Don’t worry. I only pretended to go with him. I’ll try to find a way to get him to remove it, and once that’s done—I’ll kill him to eliminate future troubles.”
“Then I’ll follow you from behind,” Ling Ye said.
“Once the time is right, we’ll kill him together.”
Nan Shan shook her head slightly:
“He’s cunning. If you follow, it’ll only make him more wary.”
“You plan to kill him alone?”
Ling Ye asked in disbelief.
Nan Shan raised an eyebrow:
“What? You underestimate me?”
“No, it’s not that…”
“Relax. I haven’t survived these ten years for nothing. I’m quite powerful now.”
Nan Shan cut him off with a smile.
Ling Ye didn’t want to ask who had made her so powerful—just like he didn’t want to ask who had taught her that beautiful calligraphy.
After a moment of silence, he still refused: “I don’t agree with you taking this risk alone.”
Nan Shan didn’t know how to persuade him either.
After a long pause, she said softly, “This trip isn’t just about escaping Xi Yuan. There’s something else I need to do.”
Ling Ye’s eyes flickered.
Nan Shan didn’t waste words.
She took his hand and pressed it against her chest.
The moment his palm touched her softness, Ling Ye’s eyes widened in shock, completely at a loss for a moment.
“Feel carefully,” Nan Shan said.
Ling Ye was stunned for a while before understanding what she meant.
He composed himself and injected a trace of spiritual energy into her chest.
After a quarter of an hour, he looked at her in a daze.
“This is a false spiritual bone,” Nan Shan said with a bright smile, revealing her biggest secret.
“When you examined me before, you always checked just one bone, never the whole body, right?”
“So, you never realized—I’m actually missing a spiritual bone. That’s why I was unable to cultivate all this time.”
“How could that be…?”
“You were also born with spiritual bones. You should know what it means to be missing one, right? Now that all the bones in my body are maturing, there’s no turning back.
To protect myself, I had to use spiritual energy to create a fake one. But now that false bone is starting to crack. If it shatters completely, even the gods won’t be able to save me.”
Nan Shan exhaled lightly and continued:
“Luckily, I received divine mercy and learned that my path to survival lies in the southwest. So now, I need to do two things—escape Xi Yuan and find my way to survival.”
“Then all the more reason for me to go with you,” Ling Ye said firmly.
Nan Shan pursed her lips:
“But I don’t want you to go.”
Ling Ye froze.
“You know,” Nan Shan said carefully,
“I’m truly grateful you never gave up on finding me over the years. I’m also grateful you helped take care of my parents. I really want to repay your kindness. And I know what kind of repayment you’re hoping for. But ten years is a long time. Too much has changed…”
“Kindness?”
Ling Ye stared at her.
“You think… this is just kindness?”
Nan Shan’s heart stuttered for a moment, and she didn’t dare look into his eyes.
Seeing her avoidance, Ling Ye’s eyes turned slightly red.
He wanted to ask her:
Back then, you loved me enough to freeze to death together at Muyi Lake—how could a mere ten years change everything?
But before he could speak, Nan Shan scratched her head anxiously, unaware that her hair was a mess.
“You didn’t even like me that much, right? It was probably just… a hazy little crush from your youth. And you were too kind…”
“A hazy little crush from youth?”
Ling Ye repeated coldly.
Then he finally asked, “Who told you that’s all it was? What do I have to do to make you believe I felt the same as you?”
Nan Shan looked confused:
“The same as me?”
“Yes. The same.”
Ling Ye stared at her face, hoping to catch a trace of joy.
But there was none.
Only confusion, as if she didn’t understand what he meant.
Ling Ye’s breathing slowed. Something inside him was trembling, close to breaking.
“Ling Ye,” Nan Shan changed the subject softly.
“I think I’ve been taking advantage of you all this time. I don’t want to keep doing that. Whether it’s Xi Yuan or my path to survival, this time—I want to resolve it myself.”
Ling Ye looked at her for a long time, then suddenly asked, “When Zhi Can threw you into Muyi Lake, why did you kiss me?”
He caught her off guard.
Nan Shan thought back and couldn’t help shrinking her neck:
“You’re not still hung up on that, are you? Yeah, it was revenge. But if Zhi Can hadn’t thrown me first and you hadn’t used the chance to push for breaking off the engagement, I wouldn’t have tried to get back at you.”
“Revenge… It was just revenge.”
Ling Ye’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
He asked again, “Then what about when we were under the lake? You were so close to the exit—why did you come back for me?”
Nan Shan frowned:
“Because the celestial father treated me well. I couldn’t just watch his son die.”
“…That’s the only reason?”
She noticed the hoarseness in his voice and hesitated.
But for Ling Ye, everything suddenly became clear.
So many confusing things over the years now made sense.
If she loved him, why didn’t she want to eat with him?
Why did she always try to avoid him?
Why, whenever he poured out his heart, did she either not understand or just look helpless—never once affirming his words?
Everything became clear.
Ling Ye’s eyes reddened.
He took a step back, looking as though he might fall apart at any moment.
Nan Shan suddenly remembered how he once developed inner demons over a simple stick of candied hawthorn.
Panic rose in her heart.
“Ling Ye…”
“A hazy little crush,” he said calmly.
“Still better than nothing at all.”
“Ling Ye…”
“I don’t know what happened to you over these ten years, or who you met. But since you came out of Dongyi Island alone—doesn’t that mean everything was left behind there?”
Ling Ye asked slowly, enunciating each word.
Nan Shan fell silent.
A soft laugh escaped Ling Ye’s throat, as if he had found closure:
“Then that’s enough.”
“Ling Ye…”
“You don’t want me to follow you—I won’t,” Ling Ye said, meeting her eyes.
His lips trembled as he tried to suppress his emotions.
“But you must promise me—come back alive. Come back alive… and find me.”
He didn’t say it plainly, but Nan Shan surely understood what he meant by “find me.”
All the preparations made in the Underworld for the young master’s wedding still sat untouched in the Canglan Palace.
His Buliang Pavilion still waited for its mistress to return.
Nan Shan was silent for a long time, then finally shook her head:
“I’m sorry, Ling Ye. I don’t want to delay you.”
This journey held unknown risks and uncertain fate.
She couldn’t make promises—and she was afraid he’d waste another decade on her.
“Let’s call off the engagement,” Nan Shan said seriously, meeting his gaze.
A flicker of despair suddenly rose in Ling Ye.
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