Shen Yue closed her eyes, her entire body feeling as if its strength had been instantly drained. She bit her lip, the tender flesh drawing blood, making it appear as if coated with a thick layer of rouge.
She let out a faint breath.
"It wasn't me…"
Shen Yue tightened her grip on her fingers, each one connected to her palm, which throbbed with pain. She lost all sense of reason, clutching the man's perfectly neat collar. The corner of her lips, bitten to the point of being broken, bled vibrantly, like a phantom. A droplet of water slid down her eyelashes, whether it was rain or something else, she couldn't tell.
She stared intently into the man's unmoving eyes.
It was like a silent roar.
Word by word.
"It wasn't me, it wasn't me. The thing I despise most are those dirty tricks. You understand nothing, you know nothing. You're always so arrogant and presumptuous!"
Cheng Qian Gong's breathing hitched. His eyes, darkened as if turbulent waves were surging within them, were somehow unable to refute her.
Her exquisitely beautiful brows drooped with exhaustion. Her pale, sickly face had no trace of color, and her long, thick eyelashes cast a slight shadow.
Then, she released her grip.
Her tightly pressed lips betrayed her weariness.
She took a step back, a chill emanating from her eyes. Her dark, moist gaze met Cheng Qian Gong's directly. "Cheng Qian Gong, if you wish to leave, then go."
The meaning of expulsion was undisguised.
It wasn't that she didn't want to keep him, but she knew she couldn't. Since she already knew she couldn't keep him, it was better to let go.
Shen Yue was like this. When she loved someone, she gave her all, wishing to present the most beautiful things in the world to the one she cherished. But if she decided to let go, she would never drag things out.
She wouldn't chase Cheng Qian Gong away; it was entirely up to Cheng Qian Gong's own wishes.
Whether he wanted to leave or stay, Shen Yue would not interfere.
This was only because he was Cheng Qian Gong.
If anyone else dared to treat her this way, she would torment them until they wished they were dead, wanting to bite off a piece of their flesh.
But Cheng Qian Gong was different.
He was a light in her most desperate and darkest moments. She couldn't bring herself to be so heartless, so she retreated again and again.
Cheng Qian Gong heavily released the hand he had held, his breathing growing rapid. After a moment, he stood up abruptly, his voice seeming to carry a hint of anger.
"What does Your Highness mean by this? Do I want to stay here? If it weren't for you using the Crown Prince to pressure me, why would I cling to this place so shamelessly?"
Shen Yue's lips quivered slightly. Her voice was almost inaudible, "Is it my fault?"
In the dim light, the skin revealed by Shen Yue was dazzlingly white. She gritted her teeth tightly, suppressing her surging emotions, yet her eyes were still rimmed with tears, like dew drops, crystalline and delicate.
"You came to find me yourself."
She hadn't even realized she was crying.
Cheng Qian saw it clearly, a hint of warmth in his pupils.
Her pale face, her long, thick eyelashes, her full, vibrant red lips bitten into a soft, bloody beauty, tears staining her face.
Her expression remained placid. If not for the copious tears flowing down, one would not have sensed she was crying at all.
Her voice remained calm, as if she were trying hard to suppress it.
"I did not beg you."
"Cheng Qian Gong, I have never asked anything of you."
She had never asked him to look back at her.
Nor had she asked him to let her stand by his side.
This was Shen Yue's last remaining shred of dignity.
When she was little, she cried a lot, shedding tears at the slightest provocation. A small injury could make her cry for a long time. But Shen Yue, after growing up, rarely cried, because very few people could hurt her anymore.
She had encased herself in a hard shell, blocking out all harm, except for Cheng Qian Gong's cold words.
That figure stood for a long time, then turned and left.
There was still dampness on the floor, indicating that the other person hadn't been gone long.
The room, filled with the scent of incense, was quiet.
Cheng Qian Gong clasped his hands, staring out the window. It was still raining, and Shen Yue had rushed out without an umbrella. She was already quite wet, and this kind of commotion might lead to her catching a cold.
His hands, unconsciously clasped together, showed his knuckles turning white with the force. He remained still for a long time.
After a long while.
He let out a soft sigh.
—
Shen Yue did indeed catch a cold and developed a severe fever, causing her internal organs to ache.
In her dazed state, she had many dreams. Many faces flickered in her dreams, all covered by a thin veil. She couldn't see their faces clearly, only feeling that each person was twisted and bizarre, like ghosts wearing human skin, coming to claim her life.
Mist swirled, and sunlight shone in, dispelling the fog.
In her dream, Shen Yue saw Cheng Qian Gong.
He was dressed in white, his features refined and handsome, his countenance like jade.
Beside Cheng Qian Gong stood Shen Yao Jin. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, with an army of thousands behind them.
High upon the dais, Shen Yao Jin wore a bright yellow dragon robe, tall and handsome.
And she, alone.
"Your Highness…"
A hoarse, dry voice made Shen Yue feel disoriented. She lowered her head in confusion and saw a patch of red.
Fu An's face was covered in blood, his original features almost unrecognizable. His body bore countless bloody holes, his flesh and skin in tatters.
Her face instantly turned pale, as if in disbelief. Her legs buckled, and her trembling fingertips reached out to touch that bloodied face.
"Fu An, is that you, Fu An?"
Fu An used his last ounce of strength to grasp Shen Yue's hand. He held on so tightly that he almost dug into her flesh.
The blood was still warm.
Fu An's eyes opened, and tears of blood flowed down, like a sob mixed with a smile, each word dripping with agony.
"Your Highness, run!"
After speaking, he gave her a forceful push.
Shen Yue, who had been kneeling, was pushed backward. The world blurred into a haze, and she dazedly looked down, her palms covered in blood.
"No, no…"
Seeing the scene before her, Shen Yue, unable to control her emotions any longer, cried out hoarsely, struggling to run towards Fu An and pull him. "Fu An, let's go together, let's go together."
How could she abandon Fu An and leave alone? They had grown up together, endured so much hardship, so many injuries. Fu An had never abandoned her; hadn't he saved her life countless times?
He valued Shen Yue more than his own life.
Fu An lay collapsed on the ground in a pathetic state. Shen Yue watched, her heart aching so much that her fingers trembled. She reached out to pull Fu An's hand without any regard for herself.
She cried out, "Let's go together, Fu An."
Logically, in a dream, he shouldn't feel pain, but Shen Yue could clearly feel a bone-chilling, dull ache throughout her body, penetrating to her very marrow.
As soon as she opened her mouth, blood flowed out.
Shen Yao Jin's face was cold and indifferent, looking down at her from his high position, as if she were an ant struggling helplessly.
His thin lips parted, and he uttered two words softly.
"Release the arrows!"
Countless bows were aimed at her, and the arrows rained down upon her.