Chapter Seventy-Six
Behind the inn lay the turbulent Canal, its murky waves churning violently. Occasionally, charred logs still aflame fell into the water, swept away before they could even emit a wisp of smoke.
Yixiao wiped her face roughly with her sleeve, struggling to keep her reddened, tear-filled eyes open against the smoke and flames. "Jump into the Canal?" she asked urgently. Feng Suige chuckled lowly. "Yes, and—" He steadied her against his side. "I can't swim. If you can, now's the time to repay me for saving your life!"
Before she could even utter a protest, Yixiao was flung forward by a tremendous force. Barely managing to hold her breath, she plunged into the icy, murky waters of the Canal.
Not daring to loosen her grip, she fought her way to the surface and dragged Feng Suige up with her. "Relax your limbs," she spat out a mouthful of river water and urged, "I've got you."
With her strength, Yixiao could barely keep them both afloat in the swift current. It was the height of summer floods, and in mere moments, they were swept far downstream.
She kicked relentlessly, one arm looped around Feng Suige’s neck, keeping his mouth and nose above water as she tried to steer them toward the towering embankment. But the raging current thwarted her efforts again and again.
"Stubborn woman," Feng Suige suddenly muttered softly. "The current slows near the outskirts of the city." He coughed twice before continuing, "Save your strength for now." Yixiao didn’t reply, but her movements gradually slowed.
After drifting for a while longer, the embankment grew lower, the river widened, and the current weakened. Summoning her remaining energy, Yixiao paddled toward the shore.
Staggering and supporting each other, they waded onto the rocky bank. The moment they reached dry land, Yixiao collapsed onto the hard stones, limbs limp with exhaustion. Feng Suige, equally drained, lay down beside her.
After only a brief rest—while Yixiao was still shaken—Feng Suige suddenly burst into laughter. She turned her head to glare at him, but seeing his genuine mirth, she couldn’t help nudging him lightly with her foot. "What’s so funny?"
Rolling lazily onto his side, Feng Suige replied, "Back in the water, all I could think about was how I’d scold you mercilessly once we made it ashore. But now, for some reason, I can’t bring myself to say a single harsh word." Yixiao fell silent for a moment before asking quietly, "Why did you come?"
"Ye Duanfang," Feng Suige answered simply, his tone calm. "He believed forcing a confession would only make them more desperate to silence you. So he posted sentries around the Prince's mansion. His men spotted you the moment you appeared."
When Yixiao didn’t respond, Feng Suige propped himself up on one elbow and met her gaze intently. "Can you tell me who—and for what reason—made you sneak off to such a place, so carelessly that you didn’t even realize you’d been locked inside?"Yixiao opened her mouth several times, the words on the tip of her tongue only to be swallowed back each time. Finally, she sighed, "Why ask when you already know? You just want to hear me say it out loud, but—"
"I understand," Feng Suige's expression darkened, the last glimmer of light in his eyes vanishing instantly. He seemed to be suppressing a cruel impulse as he spoke with difficulty, "I understand."
Still oblivious to the change in his demeanor, Yixiao said in frustration, "But I don’t understand how that person knows so much—I wanted to see him once..."
"And then," Feng Suige interjected coldly, "continue to fly together with him, inseparable as ever."
Yixiao looked up at him in shock. Feng Suige slowly pushed himself up, supporting his weight. "I’ve had enough—you’ve never forgotten Xia Jingshi. No matter how hard I try to please you, it’s all in vain. I thought you’d finally come around, but little did I know that while I cherished and adored you, you were only toying with my sincerity behind my back."
His sharp words were like a double-edged sword, piercing Yixiao while also wounding himself. Yet he continued numbly, "Now I finally understand—your heart belongs entirely to Xia Jingshi, with nothing left to spare for anyone else." He lifted his gaze to the bewildered Fu Yixiao and enunciated each word, "But what a pity. You think you belong only to him, yet he belongs to Xiyang. He’d rather watch you die than marry you, isn’t that right?"
Yixiao remained silent. His words were too cutting; she couldn’t defend herself. It felt as though the wounds she had painstakingly licked clean were being ruthlessly torn open again—the pain, the cold, seeping deep into her bones, invading her very core...
"Actually, I was wrong," Feng Suige sneered when she still didn’t respond. "You don’t have a heart at all. You’ll never grow one. You’re nothing but a liar!" His anger flared as he roared the last words, shoving Yixiao down onto the rocky shore and crushing his lips against hers.
The metallic tang of blood spread through her mouth as Feng Suige’s invading tongue pressed against hers. Yixiao’s eyes dimmed little by little. Wasn’t this the most familiar thing between them? The never-ending suspicion, the equally stubborn pride—when would such love ever find balance?
Now he was biting down hard on the pulse in her neck, the sharp pain mingling with the desolation in her heart. She closed her eyes and said softly, "Since you already know everything so clearly, why not be generous and let me go?" Perhaps this was her punishment—for ignoring his sincerity, for failing to cherish every ounce of affection he had given her.
"Let you go?" Feng Suige’s voice was thick with barely suppressed fury. "Are you that desperate to return to him?"
"Yes," Yixiao sighed inwardly, though her voice remained calm. "Just as you said, I’m a poisonous flower. Once my bloom fades, no matter how hard you try, I’ll never blossom again."
A fleeting trace of devastation flashed in his eyes. Releasing her, Feng Suige sat up. "You always say I broke the rules of the game," he said bitterly. "Maybe I did. Fine. The game ends here. Go.""Alright," Yixiao slowly stood up, rummaged in her pocket, and pulled out a soaked handkerchief to hand to him. "Wrap this around the wound on your forehead for now."
"Save your kindness," Feng Suige replied with simple calmness, slapping her hand away petulantly. His fingers, still gritty with sand, slowly traced the water-bleached wound, the pain mingling with a faint, vengeful satisfaction. "A scar in exchange for the truth—still worth it."
Yixiao sighed and murmured softly, "Take care of yourself," before turning gracefully toward the main road. Feng Suige forced himself to stand, watching her retreating figure with a cold smile. The pain pressed down on him in slow, suffocating layers, stealing his breath, dragging him deeper—like drowning in despair and indifference.
"Feng Suige!" At some point, Fu Yixiao had rushed back, gripping his arm. "What's wrong with you?"
"None of your concern!!!" he snarled, trying to shake off her supporting hand. Before his consciousness faded, he heard Fu Yixiao's panicked cry—"Feng Suige? Feng Suige!"
Stop calling. You never loved me anyway.
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