Chapter 413: Chapter 325 Immortal Has a Spring Heart (Additional 2 in 1)_2
As for the Empress Dowager’s decree of marriage, Chen Yi never paid much heed to it,
and since Yin Weiyin wished to marry him, he thought, let her marry—after all, it doesn’t make much of a difference.
With these thoughts swirling idly in his mind, Chen Yi tilted his head to glance at the female crown. She sat quietly, while the little fox placed her hands on her knees. Both women were enveloped in silence.
Accompanied by beauty, Chen Yi’s heart grew more tranquil.
The trio sat quietly by the lakeside for a good while, saying nothing. The lake scenery calmed their spirits, cooling their inner anxieties; soft snow began to fall from the distant sky.
The white specks fell onto the lake’s surface, dissolving instantly, ripples spreading outward in concentric circles—one chasing the next. If the maiden was like a blooming flower in an instant, then the female crown reflected the shimmering ripples under the snowfall—serene, radiant, and pure.
Even without looking at them, the presence of these two women made Chen Yi’s heart feel like a clear stream rushing through.
After some time, Chen Yi spoke:
"Why did you agree to marry me back then?"
Yin Weiyin slightly tilted her gaze, her lips pressing into a restrained line, as if she didn’t know where to begin.
Seeing this, Yin Tingxue attempted to ease the moment by interjecting:
"Speaking of which, Sister Weiyin... why did you drag me along?"
Her question served two purposes: it helped Yin Weiyin out of her awkward spot, and it addressed her own confusion. The little fox herself had been swept up in the engagement without really understanding why.
The question lightened the tension for Yin Weiyin, loosening some of her silent unease. She responded slowly, her tone gentle:
"You recommended me for filial duty, and I reciprocated the favor by recommending you."
Yin Tingxue blinked in surprise; instinctively, she felt that the female crown wasn’t being entirely honest.
Watching her ears twitch faintly, Yin Weiyin felt a hint of panic creeping in. Turning her face, she saw Chen Yi’s meaningful expression as he probed: "Oh? Is that true?"
Yin Weiyin’s face froze momentarily, and she finally sighed in defeat:
"I... I was afraid you’d change your mind and refuse, so I brought her along..."
"I knew you had ulterior motives."
Chen Yi chuckled lightly but reached out gently to stroke her waterfall-like hair.
The moment his fingers brushed against her, Yin Weiyin instinctively shrank back slightly but did not pull away.
Chen Yi gathered her strands in his hand, playing with them slowly while deep in thought before asking:
"Do you truly want to marry me?"
Yin Weiyin, hearing this, assumed he was unwilling, and turned her face anxiously to respond:
"You... do you insist on making me your lifelong cauldron?"
Chen Yi paused in surprise, understanding her misunderstanding before breaking into a laugh:
"If you become my wife, does that mean you’re not a cauldron anymore?"
Yin Weiyin’s face paled slightly. She knew Chen Yi wouldn’t let her go so easily. Bitterly, she lamented in silence.
A wife or a concubine—either way, her fate would be the same. She would still be his woman, subject to his whims. Such a lawless man, who dared to defy even the Empress Dowager, certainly wouldn’t be bound by the worldly distinction between wife and concubine.
Under the cold moonlight and fragmented reflections, Yin Weiyin’s gaze dulled. All her efforts, her hesitation over so long, in the end led to the same result—no change, just powerlessness.
She quietly stared at the water, watching the snowfall merge with the lake before murmuring faintly:
"No matter who I am, you won’t like me. If you don’t like me, why hold me captive? Say so earlier, and it would all be easier."
"But I quite like you."
Yin Weiyin froze momentarily, her pupils contracting slightly as she turned stiffly to face him.
Chen Yi didn’t look at her, still gently smoothing her hair. After a long pause, he finally said:
"I told you before, you had to make an effort to make me like you. Now... I truly do like you."
Her fingers trembled lightly, her lips pursed as if to respond, emotions like rippling water spreading within her. At this moment, snowflakes danced in the air.
After a long while, she realized she had misunderstood his earlier question, "Do you truly want to marry me?"
Yin Weiyin averted her gaze, refusing to look at him, coldly huffing:
"I’m your cauldron. If I don’t marry you, who else could I marry?"
Just after she said this, the ever-fuzzy thinker suddenly considered: am I now to marry as his wife, or as a Dao partner? Though the difference tipped close, their meanings diverged like heaven and earth. She hoped for the latter, yet his stance on immortality had always been unyielding, making these thoughts stir her inexplicably. Her tone softened without her noticing.
The snow began to fall heavier.
A "wife" bore children and served husbandly duties, while a "Dao partner" shared one’s path to enlightenment. Yin Weiyin’s thoughts turned convoluted, tangled in threads she couldn’t unravel.
Chen Yi remained quiet.
The lingering third wheel, Yin Tingxue, glanced left and right at the two, sensing the awkward stall in conversation and deciding to intervene.
She broke the silence, saying, "So, right now, Chen Yi... likes Sister Weiyin, correct?"
The clever maiden deliberately called him by name rather than addressing him as husband, creating an atmosphere that felt exclusively tied to the two of them.
Chen Yi shot Yin Tingxue a glance, then nodded, "I do like her quite a bit now. But..."
"But?" Yin Tingxue pressed.
Yin Weiyin, though pretending not to look, subtly listened intently.
"She’s just too self-centered," Chen Yi stated honestly before adding:
"Truth be told, I’m also quite self-centered."
Yin Tingxue couldn’t deny this; if not for his self-absorption, Chen Yi wouldn’t be so stubborn in his convictions.
Moreover, Sister Weiyin had no way to counteract Chen Yi, just as Yin Tingxue herself could only concede to him repeatedly.
Yin Weiyin frowned slightly, her face shadowed by bitterness. Perhaps the relatively comfortable mood allowed her to summon courage as she asked tentatively:
"Am I too self-centered for you to like me?"
"Oh? Not at all."
Yin Weiyin, prepared for criticism, was instead left momentarily stunned.
Chen Yi, still stroking her silky strands, smiled faintly and remarked:
"Honestly, every time I see you humbled, it makes me want to laugh."
Yin Weiyin’s expression grew more complex; she felt a pang of frustration but dared not let it boil into resentment. Her face whitened slightly, and she swallowed her cold snort back down.
He liked more than her physical allure; Yin Weiyin now realized he appreciated certain intrinsic aspects as well. But here lay the paradox: he disliked her breaking conventions, yet cherished the moments when she was scourged for defying him. Contradictory as it was, Yin Weiyin found herself baffled and lost.
In the end, these mortal fools truly couldn’t cleanse themselves of worldly attachment, their tangled thoughts ever spiraling. Yin Weiyin’s heart swirled with unnameable emotions; was her rebellious nature the thing he both rebuked and embraced?
Finally, as she gazed at the increasingly heavy snowfall, she muttered:
"Whether you like me or not, I like you. How about that?"
Chen Yi raised his eyes to meet hers, a flicker of surprise emerging in his gaze.
Half in thought, he murmured after a pause, "That works too."
Yin Weiyin gazed far into the lake’s expanse, exhaling softly, her heart easing somewhat.
The snow fell harder now, a layer of white frost settling on the green tiles of the lakeside pavilion.
Feather-like snow descended en masse, rippling the waters below.
Feigning indifference, she casually suggested:
"If, someday, you come to like me very much, gift me a hairpin for my birthday—a wooden one will do. For practitioners, gold and silver are meaningless."
"I will decide," Chen Yi paused briefly, softening his tone as he added, "Not just a hairpin; True Yuan or Heavenly Materials and Earthly Treasures are also within reason."
"Hmm..."
Hearing his reply, Yin Weiyin knew he had agreed. The faintest curve of her nose hinted at the satisfaction of a small victory. After all, Chen Yi wasn’t so unreasonable—just stubborn about appearances. Lowering herself slightly was enough to draw him in, to shake his resolve. Watching him falter before her, she understood his thoughts perfectly: to master a mortal’s heart wasn’t so difficult after all.
In time, not only would he grant her ascension, perhaps he’d even leap to cook her silver-ear soup upon her whimsy. Come to think of it, that dessert was indeed quite sweet...
Though her mind cycled through countless schemes, outwardly, her gaze remained serene and downcast, like a figure painted onto a scroll.
The presence of the Taichua Goddess amidst the ripples grew more ethereal.
The Immortal stirred with spring’s awakening, yet she herself remained unaware, lingering amidst the vast snowfall, quietly savoring the flavor of that chilled silver-ear soup.
Thus, the pinnacle of detachment lies in unknowing.
To have—yet not realize one has...