CHAPTER 14 Past Events I: Love set on an earth covered in snow

Having gotten Fu Changling’s word for it, Qin Yan didn’t insist on knowing the other person’s identity, he had only said, “Are you confident about getting it?”

“I am.” Fu Changling nodded and said, “There’s no need to worry. He is a good person.”

Qin Yan furrowed his brows at that; he appeared to be thinking about something but finally decided not to voice it out loud.

As the both of them made their way back to the Wu Manor, neither of them spoke.

The face of that person, his pair of eyes, had never left Fu Changling’s sea of memory.

They were far too similar, far too similar to the Yanming that he’d yearned for day and night when he was young and dreamt of before.

He knew that Yanming was in the hidden realm, but he hadn’t held on to too much hope. After all, certain events might have been altered after he was reborned, but he had not expected that Yanming would still be here, and that he’d run into him.

Seeing Yanming again sent his emotions into disarray. After returning to the Wu Manor, he greeted Qin Yan and snuffed out the candles, climbing back into their own beds.

But he hadn’t fallen directly into sleeping. As he listened to Qin Yan breathe, he took out that piece of jade during the dead of the night and rubbed on the name printed on it.

Looking at that name, he recalled the snowstorm from his youth, and the person in the snowstorm.

Since his early years, Yanming was the first person who was kind to him without asking for anything in return.

Fu Changling recalled those times, and couldn’t help smiling.

He remembered that he’d just been betrayed by his stepmother during that time and had fallen into the Hidden Realm of Xuanji, as well as became blind; it was Yanming who saved him when he was at his most difficult time.

When he’d just been rescued by Yanming, he was actually very afraid. He didn’t know for how long Yanming would be protecting him. He knew, through Yanming, that this was the Hidden Realm of Xuanji. Although he had never come to the Hidden Realm of Xuanji before, he’d heard stories of how dangerous it was. He was grateful that Yanming was willing to save him, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Yanming decided to abandon him.

But to understand was one matter; everyone would be filled with worries towards a hopeless future.

And so, during those days, he went out of his way to get on Yanming’s good side. He diligently offered everything he could help with.

The version of him from back then was truly too useless.

He could not speak to coax Yanming, and his powers were also extremely weak.

He could not help with anything at all, and so he thought that Yanming would most definitely abandon him. Only, he didn’t know whether it would be a day, or two, or three later.

Due to this, he found it difficult to sleep at night.

On one night, Yanming suddenly asked him, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Fu Changling pondered over whether he should be telling him, then he felt Yanming turning to his side and took his hand to place it on his chest. He steadily asked him, “If there is something you are worrying about, you can tell me by writing it here.”

When he held his hand, Fu Changling could feel the blisters on his hand from regularly practicing his sword and a temperature like snow.

Slightly astonished, Fu Changling then heard Yanming gently say, “Don’t be afraid. Just be honest with me.”

Fu Changling lightly shivered, and after a long time, he finally wrote on Yanming’s chest. Stroke by stroke he told him, “You’d leave me here.”

After he finished writing, he added three more words, as if he was writing his own end, “I will die.”

Yanming said nothing, and after a long time, he calmly said, “I’ve said before that I will protect you on the way out, so let alone abandoning you. If this is what you are worrying about, then there is no need.”

“I’m useless.”

Fu Changling wrote on his chest again, “I couldn’t help you.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Yanming calmly said, “You don’t need to help me. You just need to be yourself.”

“The reason I saved you was because of the mortal principles in my heart. There is no need for you to do anything.”

These were words Fu Changling has never heard before.

He grew up in the most prestigious Fu Clan of Yunze. He was the eldest son of the Fu Clan, yet he carried the title of a bastard.

He had no mother, and in order to live a proper life, he had to learn how to speak in favour. He could only carefully learn how to get on the good sides of everyone around him. His father, his stepmother, even his younger brothers and sisters, and his uncles…

Because he had to get on their good sides, he got used to smiling all year long. That was the first time someone told him—you only need to be yourself.

Once these words made their way out, he felt his eyes turn sour and felt embarrassed. He dropped his head low, his hand pausing in front of that person’s chest. His throat hurt, as if there was something he wanted to say to warm up the tension in the air, but he realized that he could say nothing.

In such a sorry state, Yanming began to lift his hand and brought it to his shoulder, then used a tone that was oh-so ordinary and said, “Sleep. I’m here.”

It was around this moment that his first love was awakened in his heart, spreading out its roots.

On that night, he hadn’t slept. He was waiting until Yanming fell asleep. Shivering, he reached out with a hand and touched Yanming’s face.

He touched the corner of his eyes, his brows, the bridge of his nose, his lips, and his jaw.

He painted this person in his mind solely by relying on his fingers. He wanted to know how this person looked, and thought of the day when they would be reunited again in future, he would be able to recognize this person with a single look, that this was Yanming.

From that time on, he began to ask about Yanming’s origins but Yanming seldom mentioned them. He vaguely mumbled some events of his past, but it wasn’t enough for others to know who exactly this person was.

Sometimes when he spoke to Yanming about life after they’ve gotten out, Yanming wouldn’t say anything.

They were looking for the laws in the Hidden Realm of Xuanji. During that time, Fu Changling didn’t have the knowledge from his last life, nor did he have the luck he had presently. The both of them wandered around like headless flies. Other than getting to know that they are prohibited to break the laws during a sacrifice month or they will die, they couldn’t find anything else. They roamed the entire town many times and a few days before the sacrificial ritual, Yanming finally found some clues. He managed to get his hands on a relic, and this relic was called the Soul-gathering Pagoda. It could provide an infinite amount of spiritual energy to the caster and temporarily elevate their powers.

For the sake of this relic, they were hunted by its guardians and chased out of the town. The lands outside of the town were blanketed in ice. Yanming frantically ran as he pulled him, and midway, Yanming suddenly shoved him to the side. He rolled down the slope of land as he clung onto the Soul-gathering Pagoda. And then, he heard someone going after Yanming as they left. He climbed up from the snow and realized that his limbs were all frozen stiff. He could not move, even his heart was frozen.

As he clung to the Soul-gathering Pagoda, he felt afraid, unusually afraid.

This fear wasn’t because he couldn’t see, and not because he couldn’t talk, neither was it because that he might actually die in such a desolate land. It was because he didn’t know whether that person was dead or alive, whether he would be leaving, and that he couldn’t do anything for that person’s sake.

That was the first time he felt his uselessness radiating from the bone, that sensation of helplessness made him stand up. He climbed up the slope and then sprawled on the ground. Inch by inch he fumbled on the ground and felt where his own footsteps were as he climbed towards them.

He didn’t know for how long he’d been climbing, neither did he know how long that path would be. He hadn’t thought of anything, neither did he dare to. He felt that if he couldn’t find that person, then he would keep finding, perhaps until he died.

And so, as he kept shouting “Ah, ah, ah”, he fumbled on the ground and moved forward until finally, a hand reached out to hold his hand.

That person appeared to have been buried in snow. His hand was as stiff as a stone and he seemed to have gone through great difficulty to hold Fu Changling’s hand.

And then, hoarsely, he called out, “Changling.”

After Fu Changling’s momentary astonishment, he quickly reached out to touch that person. He felt that that person was almost fully buried in the snow and he frantically reached out to sweep the snow away and then pulled him out.

He didn’t know how heavily wounded Yanming was, neither did he know what sort of situation Yanming was in. All he knew was that Yanming’s qi was practically depleted and his entire person had slumped onto his shoulder, his body gradually turning cold.

Fu Changling quickly drew a healing array in his panic. He let this person lean against his shoulder, then, holding the Soul-gathering Pagoda, he transferred some of its spiritual energy into Yanming’s body.

Yanming hadn’t spoken. Fu Changling also didn’t know whether he was healed or not. Shivering, he went out of his way transferring energy to him until that person’s golden core could no longer contain more spiritual energy; only then did he finally stop.

But while Yanming said nothing, he also wasn’t waking up. He didn’t know what he should do. He had no ideas left. He had expended all he had and exhausted himself.

He couldn’t do anything, and so he put Yanming down and lay down next to him.

Holding Yanming’s hand, he edged closer and lightly kissed the other’s lips.

Yanming’s lips were very cold, but very soft.

The originally sharp wind and snow died down.

The snowflakes behaved like they had wings, gently and quietly spreading across the sky and burying all the fighting, all the blood, and all the hopelessness, leaving behind only a blanket of whiteness.

And the both of them were lying in the blood-coloured array, becoming the only colour of those lands.

He tugged at Yanming. He kissed him. He felt Yanming’s warmth for the first time and in the ice and snow, that sensation of warmth made him shiver.

His tears, mixed with blood, fell into that kiss and he allowed that kiss to carry the scent of blood and tears with it.

He couldn’t see. He couldn’t speak. But in that moment, he suddenly felt that even if this was the end of his life, he had no objections to it.

And so, he finally understood his feelings. No one had told him what this feeling was before, but at that moment, it naturally dawned on him.

With shivering hands, his fingertips fell upon Yanming’s chest and stroke by stroke, he wrote:

“Yanming, I like you.”

“Yanming, Fu Changling wants to be with you.”