The water in the tub had turned lukewarm. Feeling the warm, delicate touch of fingertips tracing his back, Xie Zheng's shoulder and back muscles involuntarily tensed, the veins on the back of his hands resting on the tub's edge standing out prominently.
His temples still throbbed from the alcohol, yet he managed to maintain enough clarity to respond hoarsely to her husky voice: "It doesn't hurt."
Fan Changyu's fingers followed the length of the scar on his back, her lowered gaze tracing the nearly half-inch-wide mark. "It doesn't hurt now," she said. "But what about before it scabbed over?"
Xie Zheng's phoenix eyes lowered slightly, the candlelight casting a warm glow on his thick, dark lashes, softening the sharp lines of his profile in the flickering light.
Lost in thought, his long lashes casting shadows beneath his eyes, he simply said, "It didn't hurt then either."
Changyu felt as if a damp lump of cotton had lodged in her chest. She tilted her head back, blinking away the stinging moisture in her eyes, unable to bear looking at the scarred battlefield of his back any longer. Turning away, she forced out two hoarse words: "Liar."
Her voice trembled with anger. "You push yourself to this state—aren't you afraid of dying on the battlefield? Didn't you swear vengeance against Wei Yan? Is this how you seek revenge?"
After a long silence, Xie Zheng finally spoke slowly: "When those wounds ache, I know I'm still alive."
Changyu froze.
His voice was low and rough, carrying a faint, bitter laugh. "When I saw you chasing after me all the way from Chongzhou, covered in wounds, crying on horseback... I thought, to hell with revenge. I don't care anymore. Just please, stop crying." His tone darkened. "But I'm a Xie. My father was Xie Linshan. I can barely remember his face, but I remember his chest stitched roughly shut after they gutted him. I remember the shapes of those sixty-seven arrow wounds..."
"If I die, maybe I could rest easy and be with you. But as long as I live, I can't have even the slightest connection to you."
Hearing him speak of General Xie's death again, Changyu felt her heart clench with a sharp, sour pain.
Her voice choked. "I never blamed you... I didn't blame you that day..."
The horrific death of General Xie—even she, an outsider, had been devastated hearing of it. How much worse for him, the man's own son?
Even Zhu Youchang had believed her father was a traitor. How could Xie Zheng, who'd never met her father, be expected to believe otherwise without proof? Even now, remembering that day filled her with nothing but suffocating pain and helplessness.
Xie Zheng reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, murmuring softly, whether drunk or sober: "Why are you crying again?"
His thumb brushed her cheek, his half-dazed dark eyes reflecting her face and the flickering candlelight. "During those days, you kept crying in my dreams too. At first I thought if I never saw you again, I could let go."
"But even when I tried not to hear any news of you, you still haunted my dreams."
"One moment you'd be in Lin'an Town, smiling as you called my name. The next, you'd be in wedding red, marrying someone else—some refined, scholarly-looking man. The wedding hall's ceremonial chants would pierce my ears as you bowed with him under the veil, the curve of your smiling lips visible beneath it, looking so happy..."He couldn't continue speaking. The drunken haze in his eyes suddenly turned shockingly cold and fierce. The pad of his thumb pressing against her cheek increased in pressure, yet his tone carried a hint of grievance beneath the ferocity: "You always know how to torment me. Those injuries I suffered—what do they matter? They're nothing compared to the heart-wrenching pain of seeing you marry someone else in my dreams... I wanted to chop that man into mincemeat. When I woke and saw the bed curtains, the fury still hadn't subsided, yet I was also overjoyed."
"Only then did I realize—I can't bear to see you wed to another. Fortunately, it's not too late."
Even with most of his rationality eroded by alcohol, he still held back the last words.
If she had married, he would have slaughtered the other's entire clan to take her back! Then fed the remains of the man who dared wed her to the dogs!
She was his! Could only be his!
Anyone who dared covet her deserved death!
That bone-deep malice and distortion were like the final valve in his heart, something he remained vigilant against at all times. He himself loathed it intensely—he couldn't let her know.
If she knew, she would surely avoid him like a plague...
Fan Changyu's cheek ached from Xie Zheng's rough thumb rubbing against it, but she didn't pull away. Hearing him speak of everything that happened after their separation in Kangcheng, her heart also ached with sorrow.
The more she understood this man, the more she realized how agonizing that choice had been for him.
She grasped the hand Xie Zheng was using to wipe her tears and pressed it firmly against her cheek. Her tear-filled eyes, glimmering in the candlelight, stared resolutely at him as she said hoarsely, "Xie Zheng, from now on, let's stay together properly. And you mustn't mistreat your body anymore."
When her radiant eyes fixed on someone unwaveringly, the entire world seemed to lose its color, leaving only that clear, warm glow in her gaze—like the winter afternoon sun melting the icicles hanging from the eaves.
Xie Zheng gazed at her eyes in a daze for a long moment before gently stroking her cheek and saying, "It wasn't mistreatment."
Fan Changyu thought of the crisscrossed scars on his back and still felt distressed. "Your back is in such a state—how is that not mistreatment?"
"The Xie Clan's code states that for grave offenses, one must endure one hundred and eight lashes to atone. After receiving those lashes, I could rightfully come to find you. In the future, I can also wed you into the Xie family with three letters and six rites."
Fan Changyu's eyelids trembled. Despite her efforts to hold back, a clear tear rolled down and fell into the bathtub, sending ripples across the water.
No wonder he had told her after the victory banquet in Lucheng that he no longer cared whether her surname was Fan or Meng—he had already atoned in this manner.
Covering her eyes with one hand and tilting her head slightly, she couldn't suppress the choke in her voice. "What am I supposed to do with you?"
Xie Zheng—perhaps from drunkenness—had a faint redness in his eyes as well. His voice was rough and low: "I wish to wed Meng Shi Changyu as my wife. Will you agree?"
The ache in her chest grew even more suffocating, yet there was no outlet for it.
Fan Changyu felt the sourness rise to the bridge of her nose. Staring at the devastatingly handsome man with his black hair soaked, she said solemnly, "If you marry, I'll wed."
Xie Zheng's dark eyes locked onto hers without blinking. "No regrets?"
Meeting his gaze, Fan Changyu countered, "Are you trying to go back on your word already?"
She glared at him, her tone carrying a hint of challenge.
Xie Zheng said nothing.A large hand pressed against the back of her head, forcing Fan Changyu to bend forward before her breath was stolen away.
Xie Zheng had drunk heavily. As he pried open her lips, the rich taste of alcohol spread between them, and Fan Changyu found it quite different from her own post-drinking sensations.
His kiss was fierce, sucking until her lips and tongue ached dully before he finally released her.
Half-leaning against the edge of the bathtub, Fan Changyu could only gasp for air.
Her face was flushed from lack of breath, her almond-shaped eyes glistening with moisture.
The front of her robe was nearly soaked through, the outline of the tight binding beneath now visible.
Xie Zheng's breath hitched, the darkness in his eyes deepening.
The cold air seemed to ignite with flames, burning through his veins until they sizzled.
He suddenly stood, stepping out of the bathtub in one swift motion, lifting her onto the nearby table. Glancing down at her slightly swollen lips from his kiss, he covered them again, the darkness in his gaze threatening to devour her whole.
Fan Changyu's back collided with the screen behind the table. A muffled groan escaped her before her breath was stolen once more.
Defiance flashed in her eyes as she tried to regain control, but his grip was unyielding. Soon, dizziness overtook her. A chill spread across her chest as the binding loosened, and instinctively, she wrapped her arms around Xie Zheng's head.
His damp hair clung to her warm skin, the cold sending shivers down her spine, making her shoulders curl inward.
He was like a starving wolf on a winter plain, suddenly presented with a feast, unsure where to begin.
His movements were far from gentle, even bordering on roughness.
Fan Changyu frowned slightly, inhaling sharply before lightly patting his firm shoulder, her voice breathy and soft. "You... be gentler."
The night he left Jizhou, he had bitten her until it swelled, leaving her unable to bind herself for days.
Xie Zheng pressed a tender kiss before finally releasing her. When he lifted his head, his eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging at his neck, a sight both intense and frightening.
His breath burned like fire, yet his voice remained steady, though hoarse. "Not afraid?"
Fan Changyu's candlelit eyes were warm and soft, misty like morning forest dew, as if holding the first light of dawn—bright and radiant. She countered, "Afraid of what?"
Unable to resist, Xie Zheng cupped her chin and kissed her again. Only after a long moment did he press his forehead to hers, his crimson eyes filled with self-loathing as he muttered, "The man you chose to marry... isn't a good person."
Fan Changyu reached up to touch his face. "I have eyes. I know what kind of person you are."
Xie Zheng sneered. "What if I've been pretending in front of you?"
Hearing his strange words, she lifted her gaze playfully. "Then... maybe I should reconsider?"
The hands on her shoulders tightened abruptly, his grip nearly crushing her bones. Xie Zheng's voice turned icy. "Too late."
His eyes held resolve and a trace of ruthlessness, beneath which lay an unspoken brokenness and self-mockery. "Fan Changyu, in this lifetime, you're bound to a scoundrel like me."Fan Changyu had originally just wanted to tease him, but hearing him speak of himself like this, a pang of heartache rose in her chest once more.
How could she not know what kind of person he was?
She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, saying, "Then let's be bound together. They say good people don't live long—if you were a bad person, I might actually be happier."
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