A False World, Sincere Feelings

It was Yangyang's voice, so gentle it seemed afraid of shattering the night.

Kexi sat up in bed and straightened his robes. "I'm awake. Come in."

The door opened softly, and Yangyang walked in carrying a tray.

On it was a steaming bowl of medicinal broth.

She set the tray on the table, picked up the bowl, and sat on a low stool beside Kexi's bed.

"Second Senior Sister asked me to make you this calming decoction." She lowered her eyes and gently stirred the broth with a spoon to help it cool faster. "I added poria, sour jujube seeds, lily bulb, and a few calming spirit herbs. You were badly shaken by that jump off the cliff. This should help you sleep better."

Kexi took the bowl and lowered his head to drink a sip.

The broth was slightly bitter at first, but a sweet aftertaste quickly followed. Warmth slid down his throat and into his stomach, spreading through his whole body.

"It's good," he said with genuine appreciation.

Yangyang smiled, pressing her lips together. She picked up the spoon, scooped up some broth, and held it to his lips. "You've always been like this, ever since you were little. You never complained that medicine was bitter. When you scraped your knee as a child, Senior Sister put medicine on it for you. Your eyes filled with tears from the pain, but you still insisted it didn't hurt."

Kexi didn't refuse.

He obediently opened his mouth and drank the spoonful. He knew nothing about this "Junior Brother's" past, so he could only smile awkwardly and give a vague response. "Really... I'd forgotten all about it."

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Yangyang's hand froze in midair, the spoon still in it.

Her head was lowered, so Kexi couldn't see her expression. He could only see her eyelashes trembling violently, like a butterfly's injured wings. Candlelight flickered in her eyes.

"Junior Brother," she said, her voice suddenly so quiet that Kexi had to hold his breath to hear her. "You've forgotten so much... You forgot me, your senior sisters, and Master too... You forgot all of us."

Her voice began to tremble, as though something had broken in her throat.

"But I still remember. I remember what you looked like on the day Master first brought you up the mountain. You stood shyly at the mountain gate, afraid to come in. I took your hand and brought you inside. You said to me, 'Big Sister, this place is so big. What if I get lost?' And I told you, 'You won't. From now on, I'll follow you wherever you go. You won't get lost.'"

Kexi's hand, still holding the bowl, hung in midair. It felt as though something was lodged in his throat.

He didn't belong to this world. He didn't remember any of it.

But she did.

"When you were ten, you rode a flying sword for the first time. You fell off and broke your arm, and you cried your eyes out from the pain.

"I carried you on my back to find Master. You lay against me and said, 'Senior Sister, when I grow up, it'll be my turn to protect you.'"

Her eyes reddened, and tears welled up in them, but she stubbornly held them back.

"When you were twelve, you sneaked down the mountain, saying you wanted to find a legendary spirit fruit to give Master. A demonic beast chased you for three days and three nights. You came back covered in blood, still clutching that fruit tightly in your hand.

"Master confined you for half a month. The first thing you did when you came out was run to me and say you'd found an even better fruit, and that it was for me."

Her hands gripped the porcelain bowl tightly, her fingertips turning white.

"When you were fifteen, you said you wanted to become the Mystic Sect's strongest sword immortal and protect everyone.

"You got up before dawn every day to practice swordplay, and you practiced late into the night. The blood blisters on your hands would burst and come back, then burst again.

"Every night, I'd wait until you were asleep and secretly put medicine on them.

"I know when every callus on your hands formed."

At last, her voice gave way, as though something had shattered her from head to toe.

"Then you jumped off a cliff."

She finally raised her head. Tears rolled from her eyes, one after another, striking the rim of the porcelain bowl and the back of Kexi's hand, scalding hot.

"You just jumped. You didn't tell anyone, you didn't even leave a word behind. You just jumped."

Tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking her collar and cuffs.

She wiped them away with her sleeve, but the more she wiped, the more they flowed. A piercing tremor ran through her voice, her sobs sounding as though she were bringing up her very heart.

"Did you ever think-did you ever think about us?"

Kexi looked at her tear-streaked face. It felt as though someone had stuffed a boulder into his chest, weighing on him until he could barely breathe.

He opened his mouth to say something, only to find his throat completely choked up.

"Yangyang-" He finally managed to speak, his voice unbearably hoarse.

"If you really died, what would I do?"

Yangyang tilted her face up, her whole body trembling. Tears poured out as though a dam had burst, and she couldn't stop them.

"Half my life, I've spent watching you grow up. If you died, how could I go on living?

"How could I face the back mountain without you? How could I walk that mountain path without you? How could I-"

She didn't finish.

Kexi couldn't hold back any longer.

He set the medicine bowl down heavily on the table, reached out, and pulled her into his arms, pressing her tear-covered face against his chest. His arms clamped around her slender shoulders so tightly that it seemed he wanted to press her into his bones.

"Yangyang, don't say any more. I'm here. I'm alive. I didn't die."

His voice was low, with a hoarseness and a tremor he didn't even notice himself.

The person in his arms stiffened, then suddenly struggled.

She clenched her hands into fists and pounded his chest again and again. The blows weren't hard, but every one carried a breaking sense of grievance.

"You bastard... you bastard..." she choked out, her fists landing on his chest, her voice full of sobs and curses. But her blows grew lighter and weaker until, finally, both hands seized the front of his robe and clutched it tightly, as though she feared he would disappear again.

"How could you jump off a cliff... how could you abandon me... how could you..."

Her head was buried against his chest, her whole body curled up in his arms. Her cries gradually subsided into stifled, broken sobs.

Her shoulders were still shaking, her fingers still gripping his robe so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.

Kexi lowered his head and rested his chin on her hair, catching the faint scent of herbs in it.

It was the scent left by the calming decoction she had spent the whole night brewing.

He closed his eyes. It felt as though someone had carved into his chest with a knife.

He wanted to tell himself.

She was fake.

This world was fake.

She was just a character Christopher had written.

But her tears were hot.

The hands clutching his robe were trembling.

And the heartbreakingly real trembling as she leaned against him-was real.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found that he couldn't say a word.

In the end, he only tightened his arms and held her a little closer, his chin resting on the top of her head as he felt every tremor of her body while she sobbed.

"I won't jump again," he said, his voice low, as if he were speaking to her and to himself. "I won't ever jump again. Not even if you beat me to death."

He had already said those words to her once that day.

He had said them lightly then, as though he were joking.

But this time, he wasn't joking.

He didn't know whether it counted as a promise-a promise made to a character living in a script.

But he said it anyway.

Because she had cried like this, because the person in his arms was truly heartbroken over him, and he couldn't help feeling for her.

Yangyang said nothing.

Her hands slowly loosened their grip on his robe, but her fingertips remained lightly against his chest, as though she wanted to feel his heartbeat through the cloth.

Her sobs gradually subsided, and her breathing grew steady, but she remained nestled in his arms, with no intention of getting up.

Kexi held her and looked at the bowl of calming decoction as it slowly cooled. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

What if Christopher's purpose in writing this script was to make him develop genuine feelings here, only to take it all away?

He shuddered and held the person in his arms a little tighter.

Whatever that madman wanted, at least tonight-at least at this moment-he wouldn't let go.

It was late into the night.

Kexi gently settled the sleeping woman in his arms and tucked the covers around her.

There were still traces of tears on Yangyang's face, and her eyelashes fluttered faintly, as though she were still sobbing in her dreams.

He stood by the bed for a while, looking down at her peaceful sleeping face. Somewhere in his chest, a dull ache lingered.

Then he took a deep breath, turned, pushed open the door, and walked into the night.

The hour of Hai.

A side courtyard of Clear Heart Hall, Qiuyuan's residence.

Kexi stood before the tightly shut door and raised his hand to knock. His knuckles were only an inch from the door when he abruptly stopped.

He had heard a sound-extremely faint, so stifled it was almost inaudible, yet clear enough in the silent night to make his heart tremble.

It was a gasp, very soft and brief.

Then came more faint, restrained, broken sounds.

A little puzzled, Kexi asked, "Master, I'm here. Is this a good time?"

"Don't come in!"

Qiuyuan's cool voice came from inside.

But listening closely, he could hear a tremor beneath her voice.

Kexi didn't know that, inside the room, a scene of chaos was unfolding.

"Qiuyuan, how much longer are you going to keep deceiving yourself?"

P.S. The recommendation period starts today. If you're enjoying the story, please tap the request-update button and leave a comment. The next chapter will have the previewed plot. If nobody's reading, I don't really feel like continuing to write it.