[The wound ached a little, but the charcoal fire kept the room warm.]
[In my previous life, I ascended to the Divine Realm, where the heights were bitterly cold. I grew accustomed to the gods' hypocritical schemes, and to licking my wounds alone in the abyss.]
[Now that I have fallen into the mortal world, a mere poisoned crossbow bolt has brought tears to two silly girls' eyes, sending them bustling around my bedside.]
[Xiao Wu blows on the porridge until it is just right, and Zhu Zhuqing's fingers are gentle as she applies medicine. This warmth, touched by the smoke and fire of mortal life, actually puts me more at ease than that illusory divine throne.]
[At last, there is somewhere for me in this cold world. Even if I had to do it all again, I would still take that bolt.]
After writing these passages, Xiong Shaoqing nodded inwardly. He had struck just the right balance. Although he had already served up a helping of Mary Sue drama earlier, this time he would add a tough man's tenderness, aiming for authenticity and a sense of destiny.
Let's see you resist this helping of romantic sweetness.
Beside the bed.
Xiao Wu's hand froze around the spoon, and her tears broke through the floodgates again.
She set down the porcelain bowl and threw herself into his arms without a care, deliberately avoiding his injured left shoulder as she buried her face firmly against his chest.
Zhu Zhuqing bit down hard on her red lips, her hands clasped over her knees, her nails digging deep into her flesh.
The diary's words, "licking my wounds alone in the abyss," struck the softest corner of her heart.
From now on... you won't be alone anymore.
Zhu Zhuqing silently made that promise in her heart.
[Ding! Xiao Wu and Zhu Zhuqing have been detected experiencing an eruption of deep emotional resonance after reading the diary! Bond points have reached their peak!] [System Feedback Mechanism activated. Vast amounts of pure soul power are pouring into the host's body!] [Warning! The host's current soul power has reached the major level 20 bottleneck. Further breakthroughs are impossible without a soul ring!] [Overflowing soul power has automatically been converted and stored in the experience pool! Current overflow: one level!] [Note: Once the second soul ring is obtained, the stored level will instantly be returned to the host, raising him directly to level 21!]
Chapter 36: A Beauty at His Writing Desk
Listening to the notifications in his head, Xiong Shaoqing almost laughed aloud.
Overflow storage? This system is far too considerate.
That's practically saving up the experience for the next level in advance.
The cheat I got from this injury is absolutely off the charts. Tang San, that express delivery arrived just in time.
Meanwhile.
Spirit City, the Papal Palace.
Bibi Dong leaned against her cold throne and gave a disdainful sneer as she read the Diary appearing in her mind.
Getting injured this badly by a handful of mere mortal assassins? This fallen God King really is useless.
Her eyes were filled with mockery, but when her gaze passed over "Xiao Wu's porridge, Zhu Zhuqing applying medicine" and "this warmth puts me more at ease than the divine throne," her brows involuntarily furrowed.
An inexplicable irritation sprang up from the depths of her heart without warning.
Absurd. A dignified god, actually craving the mortal affection of ants.
Bibi Dong abruptly straightened, a restless light flickering in her purple eyes.
She slammed her palm onto the solid-gold armrest, leaving a deep handprint.
She did not want to admit that the warm scene described in the diary had stirred a faint stab of pain and jealousy in her heart, long frozen by hatred and power.
That man, surrounded by a rabbit and a cat fussing over his well-being, actually lived with more peace and security than she did as Spirit Hall's lofty Pope.
False affection will ultimately be torn apart by absolute power.
Her face cold, Bibi Dong forcibly suppressed her irritation and stopped looking at the Diary.
The Heaven Dou Empire, the Crown Prince's Eastern Palace.
Qian Renxue reclined on a couch and could not help chuckling as she read the Diary.
So he did get hurt.
She picked up the glass of red wine on the table and gently swirled its scarlet contents, her golden eyes filled with amusement and a piercing clarity that saw through everything.
Lacking strength, he traded his flesh and blood for his beauties' unwavering devotion.
Although Xiong Shaoqing's risky move left him in a sorry state, the returns were astonishing.
She saw through the causes and consequences behind this assassination at a glance, and saw Xiong Shaoqing's present circumstances even more clearly.
Injured and bedridden, yet served at close quarters by peerless beauties, with lovely company at his writing desk. This blessing in disguise certainly let him enjoy the fortune of having more than one beauty.
Qian Renxue tipped her head back slightly and drained her glass. She turned her gaze toward the deep night sky beyond the window, a trace of envy flashing through her eyes without even her noticing.
A fallen man stripped of all divine power, yet he has vibrant souls beside him willing to live and die for him.
And I, the dignified young master of Spirit Hall, can only hide in this sunless gilded cage, wearing a false mask, without even anyone I can speak an honest word to.
Qian Renxue set down her wineglass and murmured softly.
"Xiong Shaoqing, you certainly live far more freely than this crown prince."
Wind and snow rose again outside the window, but silver-thread charcoal burned in the inn's room, filling it with warmth.
Xiong Shaoqing leaned against the headboard, his left shoulder wrapped in thick white gauze faintly stained with blood.
His face was pale and his brows tightly knitted. Holding a brush in his right hand, he was preparing to continue transcribing the subsequent chapters of "Chinese Paladin" from memory on the low couch beside him.
"Are you out of your mind?" A cool, delicate hand pressed down on his wrist.
Zhu Zhuqing walked in carrying a tray of fresh dressings, her cool eyes fixed on him. "Your left shoulder has a through-and-through wound. The slightest tug will hurt like something drilling into your heart. The doctor said you need quiet rest."
"Let go." Xiong Shaoqing's voice was cold and hard as he tried to pull his wrist free. "The publisher is waiting for the next manuscript. I can't interrupt it. I, Xiong Shaoqing, haven't fallen so low that a minor injury makes me useless."
Zhu Zhuqing did not let go. Instead, she snatched the wolf-hair brush from his hand and spread a stack of fine xuan paper on the desk before her, her voice carrying an unyielding stubbornness. "You dictate. I'll write."
"No need. I'm not used to leaving my own affairs in someone else's hands."
"Enough nonsense." Zhu Zhuqing pulled over a brocade stool and sat beside the bed, her back perfectly straight as she skillfully ground the Huizhou ink. "If you won't dictate, I'll forcibly press your sleep acupoint and make you sleep for three days and nights. In your battered state, you can't beat me right now."
Looking at the stubborn, aloof Hell Spirit Cat before him, Xiong Shaoqing snorted and turned his head away, seemingly unwilling to argue with her as he reluctantly compromised.
In truth, however, the lecherous delight inside him was almost enough to blow the roof off.
Tsk, tsk. Are girls these days all this domineering?
A noble young lady of the Star Luo Empire, a future member of the Shrek Seven Devils, actually dragged over a stool and sat beside my bed to be my personal secretary.
Having a beauty at my writing desk like this feels wonderful right down to my bones. How is this catgirl even more alluring when she's stubborn than when she's obedient?
Forcibly suppressing the corners of his mouth as they threatened to shoot upward, Xiong Shaoqing cleared his throat and began dictating the plot of "Chinese Paladin" in a completely level voice.
Four hours slipped quietly by.
As the plot advanced, Zhu Zhuqing's brushwork, originally as fluid as drifting clouds and flowing water, gradually slowed, and her breathing quickened with the rise and fall of the words.
When she wrote of Li Xiaoyao and Lin Yueru making their vow in Chang'an City to "eat until we're old, play until we're old," Zhu Zhuqing's heart skipped a beat.
When she wrote of Lin Yueru standing trial in the prefect's court, Li Xiaoyao stepping forward to take the beating for her, and arrogantly lifting his head to shout, "Hey, you wicked woman! Only I get to hit you and scold you. Anyone else who hits you is picking a fight with me!"
Plop.
The brush in Zhu Zhuqing's hand hung in midair. A drop of ink struck the paper, blooming into an inky flower.
She froze completely.
This "bickering lovers" dynamic, seemingly all foolishness and squabbling yet actually valuing the other more than life itself, struck like a heavy hammer against her heart, long frozen by betrayal.
Only I get to hit you and scold you. Anyone else who hits you is picking a fight with me...
Zhu Zhuqing turned this somewhat domineering line, filled with boundless indulgence and protectiveness, over and over in her heart.
Compared with Dai Mubai's insincere, perfunctory sweet words, this unreasonably fierce protectiveness was a man's truest willingness to shoulder responsibility.
She raised her head and looked at Xiong Shaoqing leaning against the headboard, her eyes complicated.
This man clearly has a face as cold as frost, and his everyday words are merciless, yet just what kind of dazzling, deeply loving world does he hold in his mind?
Such astonishing talent, such penetrating understanding of love-it leaves the clichéd scholar-and-beauty romances sold across the Douluo Continent a hundred and eight thousand miles behind.
"Well? Little Sister Zhu Zhuqing, isn't Big Brother's story especially good?"
Xiao Wu pushed open the door with a platter of washed fruit and saw Zhu Zhuqing's astonishment at a glance. Grinning, she leaned over and popped a tangerine segment into Zhu Zhuqing's mouth, her face full of pride.
"This is only the middle of the story." Xiao Wu blinked and leaned close to Zhu Zhuqing's ear, teasing in a voice only the two could hear. "When Big Brother gets to the later parts, you'll understand what being moved really means."
"But I suggest buying a few extra packs of tissues and silk handkerchiefs on the street beforehand, or you won't have enough to wipe away your tears."
Chapter 37: Tang San's Secret Calculations
"Sister Xiao Wu, you're teasing me again." Zhu Zhuqing's cheeks reddened slightly, a rare touch of girlish petulance appearing on her face.
The two bantered quietly, and the room's atmosphere instantly shed the bloodshed and tension of the past few days, becoming relaxed and cheerful.
Watching the two stunning girls laughing and playing beside his bed, Xiong Shaoqing closed his eyes to hide the amusement in them. He opened the Destiny Diary in his sea of consciousness and recorded his feelings at this moment with just the right touch:
[The wound still aches faintly, but the laughter in the room has never stopped.]
[Zhu Zhuqing is usually as cold as a block of ice, yet today she domineeringly snatched my brush and insisted on writing for me. Meanwhile, Xiao Wu serves tea and water nearby, chattering like a lark that never stops.]
[Dictating Xiaoyao and Yueru's story, watching the two of them alternate between being moved and bickering, I suddenly felt that the blades I had taken and the schemes I had suffered these past few days seemed to amount to nothing.]
[The Divine Realm of my previous life was too cold, so cold that even breathing carried calculation. To have them beside me at the Listening Snow Inn in this life, listening to a room full of cheerful voices and laughter-this peace, touched by the smoke and fire of mortal life, is something I would not trade even for the entire world.]
[If only life could remain this peaceful forever.]
The diary had only just appeared.
The laughter beside the bed stopped abruptly.
Xiao Wu and Zhu Zhuqing both stopped moving and looked at Xiong Shaoqing's profile as he rested quietly with his eyes closed.
A soft sheen of tears appeared in both girls' eyes. At that moment, their attachment and love for him took deep root, like spring rain nourishing all things.
Big Brother, life will definitely stay peaceful forever. With us here, no one will destroy this peace.
Xiao Wu silently repeated those words in her heart.
Just then, a clear notification sounded in Xiong Shaoqing's mind.
[Ding! Xiao Wu and Zhu Zhuqing have been detected overflowing with deep emotion and a sense of belonging after reading the diary! Bond points continue to overflow!] [System Feedback Mechanism activated! Soul power pouring in!] [Warning: the host's current soul power has reached the major level 20 bottleneck. Further breakthroughs are impossible without the second soul ring!] [Overflowing soul power has automatically been converted and stored in the experience pool! Current overflow: two levels]
Xiong Shaoqing snapped his fingers in delight inwardly.
Recovering from this injury really is a heavenly life. The experience pool keeps growing. Once I get my second soul ring, I'll soar straight through several levels.
Meanwhile, in Spirit City's Papal Palace.
Bibi Dong was looking through documents when Xiong Shaoqing's latest Diary entry popped into her mind.
Reading "I would not trade even for the entire world," she snorted coldly and set her vermilion brush down heavily on the desk.
Indulgence ruins ambition. A little affection from a few mortal women has bewitched this so-called God King cultivating anew until he no longer knows east from west.
He doesn't even care about dominion over the world. Does an unambitious piece of trash like him deserve to be called a god?
Bibi Dong scoffed aloud, yet for some reason, looking at the "room full of cheerful voices and laughter" described in the diary made her vast, cold Papal Palace seem especially deathly silent, stirring inexplicable traces of irritation in her heart.
The Heaven Dou Empire, the Crown Prince's Eastern Palace.
Qian Renxue was reviewing memorials. Reading this diary entry, she could not help letting out a surprised laugh.
Injured and bedridden, yet with two stunning beauties attending to his brush and ink, enjoying the fortune of having them both.
She put down the memorial and propped up her chin, the probing interest in her eyes growing stronger.
A tender embrace is a hero's grave.
Before you continue