I lied to him. I told him it didn't hurt, that it would stop hurting soon, but it actually hurt terribly, and he was in pain until the very moment he died.
Bi Lian's expression had frozen on his face. He gazed deeply at the person whose eyes were tightly shut, fine beads of sweat dotting his snow-white forehead.
This gave Bi Lian a moment of clarity: Shen Yue, it seemed, was also capable of feeling pain.
He didn't know what compelled him to speak.
"...What did you lie to him about?"
Her features were as pure and radiant as glacial ice, her eyelashes long and delicate, like frost on a frozen surface. Her scattered hair resembled snow, or perhaps pale, pristine purity.
Her face was as white as snow, her lips a vibrant red. She was cold and in pain. "I told him... it wouldn't hurt..."
The pain in her chest grew increasingly suffocating. Her delicate, jade-like fingers instinctively pressed against her chest. Her neck was elongated, like a swan on the verge of death.
Her eyelashes trembled, like snowflakes landing on branches, quiet and beautiful. "...It actually hurt a lot. He cried."
Shen Yue was in agony, and he could see it, for he was the one who had orchestrated it.
Yet, he had endured pain a thousand times worse than Shen Yue. His demonic bone had been forcibly removed, his tendons and bones meticulously extracted from his flesh and skin. His blood had run dry, but his consciousness remained sharp. He could clearly feel the excruciating, heart-rending pain that tore at his very being. He had been rendered a cripple, yet the people of Qingyun Sect were not satisfied. Shen Yue was still uneasy, and they eventually imprisoned him in the Sea of the Abyss.
The Sea of the Abyss held demonic beings of profound sin and soaring resentment. While he was forced into slumber, his spirit was tormented every single moment by the majesty of ancient beasts.
At that instant, he truly wished for death, but with his eyes closed, he could do nothing but endure the soul-shattering pain.
Bi Lian’s expression flickered as he watched the white-robed immortal tremble slightly.
His fingers slowly loosened their grip, leaving a faint red finger mark on the porcelain-white, delicate neck. It was glaringly obvious.
He had harbored this feeling for an unknown number of years, his sole support being Shen Yue.
Discontent, hatred, resentment, brutality – all of it had fueled his survival.
He had imagined countless times how he would make Shen Yue experience this same torment after his release. He vowed to repay it tenfold, a hundredfold, a thousandfold, a millionfold, to quench the burning hatred in his heart.
And now, he had finally made Shen Yue taste this very pain.
But now, Shen Yue seemed to be in great distress. He couldn't understand. If Shen Yue could cherish Rong Hua, who had only been by her side for little more than a decade, why had she never shown him any tenderness, never pitied him?
He was Shen Yue's junior disciple; they had grown up together since childhood. Wasn't their bond deeper than his with Rong Hua?
Then why could she be so heartless towards him?
Perhaps it was because Shen Yue's complexion was too pale. A flash of red glinted in Bi Lian's eyes. Shen Yue's breathing gradually slowed, and her body stopped trembling. However, the furrow in her brow remained.
The sweat on her forehead dampened the silver strands, her face pale, her lips red, her silver hair like snow. The pain in her chest subsided. Her eyelashes fluttered, as if wanting to open her eyes, but after a long while, she drifted into a daze from exhaustion and fell asleep.
Bi Lian, who had been sitting by the bedside, remained silent. His fingers curled slightly, his eyes growing increasingly dark and inscrutable.
His thin lips pressed together. He reached out and gently wiped the sweat from Shen Yue's forehead with the back of his hand. It was moist and sticky, and the sweet fragrance intensified.
Bi Lian sniffed his slightly damp hand, confirming it was indeed fragrant, sweet, and faint.
He smiled, a fervor he himself didn't recognize igniting in his eyes. He gently stroked the red mark on her neck, caressing it as if it were a precious piece of jade.
If that were the case, then he would remain at Qingyun Sect, by Shen Yue's side. He would take good care of the Immortal Venerable with all his heart.
—
When she woke up, Shen Yue's mind was still somewhat hazy. She subconsciously touched her brow bone, only to feel her eyes.
Her heart sank. She fumbled around, her hands searching until she found the soiled white cloth on the floor beside the bed.
It was dirty.
Shen Yue picked up another white cloth and tied it around her eyes. Silver hair cascaded down her back. Her features were clear, her lips a vibrant red.
She was propping her head up, trying to recall yesterday's events. The sound of approaching footsteps reached her. Shen Yue looked up. The young man strode to her side, unbidden, and took her arm. His clear, bright voice was filled with worry and concern.
"Immortal Venerable, does your chest still hurt? You fainted yesterday; you really frightened this disciple. Should we go see Elder Ye?"
Shen Yue no longer felt any pain. She mused that yesterday's discomfort might have been due to the dragon poison, or perhaps an old ailment. It should be nothing serious.
She shook her head, her expression like frost on a white camellia branch. "It's nothing."
After saying this, she gently pushed the young man away, her tone exceedingly calm, as if she hadn't taken yesterday's chest pains to heart. She had reverted to her usual aloof, distant demeanor.
Bi Lian was accustomed to this expression. However, having seen Shen Yue's vulnerable and pitiable state yesterday, her current feigned composure made him want to cruelly tear it apart.
But he restrained himself, only allowing a mocking smile to surface.
The white-robed immortal maintained an air of elegant nobility, like the moon on a clear, bright night. However, her silver hair was loosely tied, spilling lazily down her back, and her collar was slightly disheveled. She didn't project an image of reverence at all.
Instead, it made one want to roughly tear at her disheveled collar.
Shen Yue was still not accustomed to interacting with a disciple. She pursed her bright red lips and dismissed him. "You may withdraw."
Bi Lian said nothing and left.
Only after the sound of his footsteps disappeared did Shen Yue sit back down on the bed. She rubbed her soft, silver hair, truly unable to fathom the great villain's thoughts.
In the original novel, Bi Lian had first used underhanded tactics to drive the Xi Yu Immortal Venerable into a state of qi deviation. Then, he had severed the Xi Yu Immortal Venerable's tendons and bones, crushed her spiritual core, rendering her neither human nor ghost. Finally, she was thrown into the Ten Thousand Demon Cave, subjected to torment day and night, meeting a most tragic end.
But now, the great villain's attitude towards her was rather strange.
It was indeed hatred, but she felt that this hatred was not entirely pure; rather, it was mixed with something else.
Something that made her feel a bit uneasy.
More importantly, the great villain should not be pretending to be good in front of her now. He should be trying to gain favor with the heroine.