Looking at her outer robe on the ground, his hand, like an iron palm, firmly secured Shen Yue. He lowered his voice, "Senior Brother, I must offend you."
Shen Yue's mind was incredibly sluggish at this moment. She hadn't even processed the meaning of Xuan Cheng's words when Xuan Cheng, with a surge of strength, scooped her up. His chest was hard and hot, his heartbeat like thunder. He strode forward, and before long, he placed Shen Yue onto the bed.
His palm still held a sensation of coolness and softness. Xuan Cheng frowned inwardly, wondering when Shen Yue had become so light. He hadn't even exerted much force, yet she felt as ethereal as a feather, causing him a pang of alarm.
Shen Yue, already lying on the bed, seemed to have not yet recovered her senses. She lightly bit her lip, her eyebrows delicate and pale as shattered ice, or like moonlight falling on frost, pure and unblemished, like an innocent child.
She lay on the bed, so bewildered and docile, as if she were ripe for anything.
Her three thousand silver strands spread across the bed like blooming snow lotuses, making her small, fair face appear even more delicate.
Xuan Cheng's fingertips retracted slightly, his throat bobbing as he instinctively reached for the bedding nearby. His burning fingertips pressed against the cool, soft fabric, causing his mind to involuntarily recall the sensation of holding her moments ago – so soft, so light.
She still exuded a faint, indescribable fragrance, a scent that was simply sweet, a stark contrast to Shen Yue's usual aloof and proud demeanor.
Her slender form shifted, producing a faint rustling sound of fabric. Xuan Cheng paused for a couple of seconds, jolted awake by the movement.
He quickly pulled the bedding over Shen Yue, then lowered his head, subtly rubbing his fingertips.
Shen Yue's body, already weary and tense, softened as soon as she touched the bed. The frost and snow in her brows began to melt, forming drops of water that traced paths down her eyes, like individual pearls, crystal clear and lustrous.
She was so exhausted that she couldn't even lift a finger, lying motionless on the bed.
Xuan Cheng watched that drop of water, and for some reason, felt an overwhelming urge to wipe it away. He raised his hand, then lowered it, lowered it, then raised it again. In that brief moment of hesitation, the water droplet had already slid into her hair, vanishing without a trace.
In his heart, Shen Yue had always resided on a pedestal. She possessed an ethereal aura unmatched by anyone else, seemingly free from desires and untainted by the mortal world.
He admired and respected his Senior Brother immensely. In his mind, Shen Yue was almost omnipotent. Therefore, seeing Shen Yue in such a vulnerable state before him felt strangely unsettling.
Xuan Cheng swallowed his unease, his expression somewhat stiff, his voice as hard as stone, "Can't you take better care of yourself? Do you know how many people care about you, and... I care a lot too."
The latter part of his sentence, for some inexplicable reason, made him feel intensely ashamed. The tips of his ears flushed silently. Fortunately, Shen Yue hadn't seen it, otherwise, he wouldn't have known how to explain.
He breathed a silent sigh of relief.
Shen Yue lay on the bed, her head resting on the pillow. Though the bedding was warm, it offered little comfort. Hearing his words, the corners of her lips curved weakly. A few strands of silver hair clung to her face.
Her lips were a vivid hue, full and plump like ripe fruit exuding sweetness. Yet, the rest of her was pale, even her eyebrows were white. With that faint smile, she seemed as fragile as a willow swayed by the wind, like a porcelain doll crafted from jade, easily shattered.
Xuan Cheng felt he was losing his mind. "Weak as a willow swaying in the wind" was a description for women, how could he use it to describe his Senior Brother?
It was truly improper!
His heart, however, was consumed by worry. He knew that with Shen Yue's cultivation, she shouldn't be afflicted by any illness, yet he couldn't help but lean down. His throat bobbed a couple of times, his fingers instinctively retracted, and he placed the back of his hand against Shen Yue's cheek, testing her temperature.
She was very cool.
Almost abnormally so.
Xuan Cheng's fingers were hot, and touching something so cold made his heart chill. He asked with concern, "Why are you so cold? Have you been staying on Guosi Cliff for too long?"
"I am fine, you should go back," Shen Yue said suddenly.
She turned her face away, evading Xuan Cheng's hand. Her beautiful, fair, and delicate neck was thus exposed, her hair slipping from the side of her face, revealing the taut line of her neck and the faint blue veins, undeniably alluring.
Xuan Cheng's muscles tensed, blood surging through him. He mumbled softly, "Xiyu, aren't you cold here by yourself?"
She must be cold, otherwise, why would her body be so icy?
Shen Yue, however, had fallen silent. When she didn't want to engage, she habitually used silence to push people away. In the past, Xuan Cheng found this behavior quite tiresome and would not press further, merely leaving in disappointment.
But this time, for some reason, his feet felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, rooted to the spot.
Shen Yue drifted into a hazy sleep, assuming Xuan Cheng would leave shortly.
Even in her dreams, she seemed uneasy, her brow furrowed tightly, her lips pressed into a thin line. In her dream, she saw a tall figure covered in blood, with not a single patch of uninjured flesh, his expression numb and vacant. His low voice echoed repeatedly.
Filled with resentment and unwillingness.
"Why... why did you kill me, Master... What did I do wrong?"
"...What did I do wrong?"
"Master... Master..."
That master's name was like a curse, causing a constant ringing in her ears.
His crimson, shadowed eyes were like raw, bloody flesh, cruel and terrifying.
They were almost unbearable to look at, as if they might shed tears of blood at any moment.
"You lied to me..."
"You lied to me..."
His voice was hoarse, fragmented, each word uttered as if squeezed from his chest.
Those frenzied eyes suddenly turned ferocious, his gaze sinister, on the verge of explosive rage and madness. Finally, he let out a low, deranged laugh: "...You lied to me... I won't let you go... I won't let you go even as a ghost... Hell is too cold, Master, come keep me company."
That voice continued to reverberate in her ears, as if someone were leaning close, breathing warm air against her ear, speaking word by word.
Fine sweat beaded on her forehead. Shen Yue bit her lip tightly, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. For a moment, she couldn't tell if she was dreaming or awake.
In her daze, she thought she heard someone speaking anxiously by her ear.
Xuan Cheng's voice, tinged with panic, had changed pitch, "Xiyu? Senior Brother? What's wrong?"
Beside him, a familiar, aged voice, Elder Ye, spoke, "Do not disturb him. Xiyu might be caught in a nightmare. Give her this bowl of medicine."