Chapter 45 “Could It Be a Resurrection”

Chapter 45 "Could It Be a Case of Soul Transference?"

"Sad?"

The corner of my lips curled slightly as I delicately skimmed the froth from the tea, unhurriedly blowing away the rising steam. My eyes were filled with a satisfying, almost smug delight.

Wasn't making Xie Yan suffer, grieve, and shed tears the sole purpose for which I, Feng Jiuyue, clung to life?

—A monster like me, whose birth caused my mother to die in childbirth; whose father was plunged into a half-lifetime of depression after her departure; and who later foolishly fell in love with Xie Yan, only to be used by him and indirectly cause my father’s death—

I am a sinner.

I should have long ago been cast into the cycle of reincarnation, never to be human again. But the heavens, knowing my suffering and grievances, granted me this chance to live a second life. How could I possibly let it go?

That taste of despair—betrayed by a loved one, losing everything—I must make Xie Yan experience it too.

"Master, please don’t be like this," Huai Xin stared blankly at the fierce expression on my face, shivering helplessly. "Master, you’re scaring me."

I let out a soft scoff, then shed that icy demeanor, teasing him, "Can’t you show a little more backbone? Back in the chess room, I saw your legs trembling. Even when you could barely protect yourself, you still dared to plead for me."

"Without you, Master, there would be no Huai Xin today," Huai Xin said, his expression solemn and resolute, almost kneeling to pay his respects. "If you hadn’t saved me from the traffickers that day, Huai Xin wouldn’t be where I am now. So, this great kindness you’ve shown me, I will surely repay."

A strange suspicion rose in my chest, and I carefully observed Huai Xin’s expression when he spoke of Qiu Yunqing.

His gaze was so devout and sincere, as if beholding a pure and flawless deity in his heart. His behavior reminded me so much of my former foolish, ignorant self—taken in by Xie Yan’s dazzling, perfect facade, giving him everything without reservation, even feeling insecure that what I offered was not good or precious enough.

Little did I know, it was already the best I could give.

Now, Qiu Yunqing has entered the cycle of reincarnation, lost to some unknown time and space, unable to reciprocate Huai Xin’s sincere devotion. But as long as I remain alive, I will surely protect everything Qiu Yunqing cared about—his kind and gentle parents, his loyal servant, and the Qiu Mansion where he grew up.

Seeing my expression soften, no longer as fierce and terrifying, Huai Xin breathed a sigh of relief and returned to his gossipy self. "I suppose the Crown Prince still misses the Feng family's young master who passed away, which is why he was so sad."

I had no interest in Xie Yan’s hypocritical facade and lazily turned to gaze at the night sky outside the window.

There was no trace of moonlight; thick clouds shrouded the shy Lady Moon, revealing only its vague outline, like a veiled beauty in the haze.

Huai Xin, not bothered by my lack of response, chattered away beside me about all sorts of things, not expecting any reply from me.

I’ve come to fully understand now: some people chatter on and on, not expecting a response—it’s simply a form of sharing.

They’re just eager to tell you about the joys or sorrows they encountered that day. It doesn’t matter if you don’t respond; as long as you listen, that’s enough.

The desire to share is also a form of affection, isn’t it?

I’ve been through that phase too. Back then, Xie Yan and I hadn’t yet developed the intimacy we later shared. He always maintained an indifferent attitude toward me, as if I were air—aloof and distant.

But I was talkative, always foolishly cheerful, eager to share every new thing with him. Knowing he was usually busy, I only disturbed him during his scripture copying.

I vividly remember one time when I witnessed a shocking, bizarre sight and immediately rushed back from outside, excited to discuss it in detail with Xie Yan.

That day, I burst through the door curtain, sending it flying and the bells jingling noisily. Panting heavily, I ran into the room. Despite making such a commotion, Xie Yan merely lifted his eyelids leisurely, glanced at me faintly with his phoenix eyes completely unmoved, without even pausing his hand.

He was wearing an indigo pine-patterned robe that day, the collar fastened neatly, the wide cuffs embroidered with several pine and bamboo patterns. His fingers, holding the wolf-haired brush, were long, cold, and pale, with distinct knuckles—like slender green bamboo, the very picture of an upright gentleman, peerless in the world.

When Xie Yan copied scriptures, he could memorize them after just one glance, never needing to refer to the text. He wielded the brush skillfully, his long, thick eyelashes veiling his piercing gray pupils, his thin lips slightly pressed, his nose bridge high and straight. Simply sitting there quietly writing, he was as beautiful as an ink-wash landscape painting.

"Xie Yan," I hurried forward, tightly grabbing his sleeve, covering half my mouth with my hand, my eyes darting around before I said mysteriously, "Do you know what incredible thing I just saw?"

Xie Yan showed no interest in my suspense but instead let his deep gaze rest on my sweat-dampened cheek, his gray eyes hiding turbulent waves, his long eyebrows slightly furrowed.

Having just seen that marvel, I had run back from outside, so my face and forehead were drenched in sweat. Given my weak constitution, I was breathless, my cheeks flushed red.

Seeing Xie Yan just staring at me without speaking, I pouted and sulked, "Aren’t you going to ask me what it was?"

Xie Yan didn’t answer my question, just looked at me with a cold, handsome face—usually a prelude to his displeasure.

I was about to cowardly apologize, but the next moment, his fingertips, cool to the touch, gently landed on my cheek, carefully wiping away the sweat droplets, his expression focused and serious, as if handling precious porcelain.

It felt like a soft feather brushing my cheek, and I stood there stunned, unsure how to react.

This was the first time Xie Yan had actively touched me—touching my cheek, wiping my sweat. Fireworks exploded in my heart, and I couldn’t suppress the smile on my lips.

In contrast, Xie Yan remained completely unruffled. He took a handkerchief from his sleeve and fastidiously wiped his fingers, then asked indifferently, "What is it?"

"It’s that I like you," I grinned at him, brighter than spring flowers. "That’s it."

"Master, Master! Are you even listening to me?" Huai Xin shook my shoulders angrily, his expression displeased. "Did you remember what I said?"

"Huh?" I awkwardly rubbed my nose, giving him an embarrassed smile. "I didn’t catch it just now. Say it again."

"Ah," Huai Xin looked at my face with great concern, heaving a long sigh. "Master, you look far too similar to the young master of the Feng family. Huai Xin fears this may not be a good thing for you."

"Whenever the Crown Prince sees you, it’s like seeing an old friend. He can’t help but be reminded of the past, becoming unusually emotional, his words and actions growing increasingly erratic."

Isn’t that exactly the outcome I desire?

The reason I wanted to become Xie Yan’s study companion was precisely to make him see this face every day, to remember Feng Jiuyue beneath the nine springs, forever never find peace.

"Master, have you forgotten the scene when you first saw the Crown Prince three years ago?"

"It truly frightened Huai Xin back then. The Crown Prince, rumored to be above worldly affairs, appeared on the bustling streets of the capital drenched in blood, holding the body of Young Master Feng. Such an immortal-like figure actually shed bloody tears for his beloved."

"Master, it’s best you keep your distance from the Crown Prince."

I didn’t respond, only deeply considered Huai Xin’s words, my brows furrowing as I began to seriously doubt their truth.

Could Xie Yan, someone with a venomous heart, greedy for vanity, actually possess a heart capable of shedding tears for someone?

I’d truly like to see that for myself.

As Huai Xin and I spoke, the steward’s voice suddenly came from outside the door: "Young Master Qiu, the Crown Prince requests your presence immediately. He says the Jiang State Preceptor has finally returned from his travels and wishes to see you."

Hearing this, Huai Xin’s expression instantly turned grave.

The Jiang State Preceptor was world-renowned for his mastery of occult arts and gu magic, and Xie Yan had been searching for years for a secret method to resurrect the dead, attempting to bring Feng Jiuyue back to life.

Every hair on my body stood on end, wondering if Qiu Yunqing’s spell might be discovered in an instant.

I hadn’t yet avenged my father, hadn’t yet made Xie Yan pay for his crimes or experience the pain of unrequited love. Could all my efforts be in vain?

After the steward left, Huai Xin anxiously paced around me like an ant on a hot griddle, babbling anxiously.

"Master, you mustn’t go, truly mustn’t. This is clearly a setup."

"The Crown Prince was so deeply devoted to Young Master Feng, and you happen to look exactly like him. He wouldn't possibly be planning to—" At this, Huai Xin’s face showed horror, his eyes wide with terror, pupils contracted sharply. "The Crown Prince couldn’t be planning to attempt a soul transference, could he?"