Chapter 268

Three pairs of eyes collided in the air that seemed to have frozen in place.

Though no words were spoken, an invisible undercurrent surged between them.

Ning Ning couldn’t make sense of it.

She had heard that after Xie Yu led the demon clan to breach the Chongling Mountains, none of the Zhou family survived except for Zhou Yimei.

Although Zhou Yimei had narrowly escaped death, her situation was worse than death itself, enduring endless humiliation.

That man resented her betrayal and cruelty from years ago, not only forcing her to live in a deserted mansion where anyone could bully her but also breaking the bones in her right hand. It was cruelty both physical and mental—there was no need for a “wife-chasing crematorium” arc—scattering that dog man’s ashes wouldn’t even be enough to make up for it.

(T/N:This means that at first, the male protagonist ignores the female lead and is very arrogant. In the end, in order to please the female lead, he will do a lot of things to make up for it. Corner the wife for a while; chase the wife crematorium is often used in novels, TV shows, and dramas. The content is probably that the prodigal son turned back and chased his wife wildly, without dignity, unscrupulous, stalking and begging for forgiveness and love from his ex-lover.
The crematorium is used to describe the physical and emotional double torture or painful price paid when chasing a wife.)

——If this followed the dog blood’s path of an ancient abusive love novel, would Zhou Yimei actually fall in love with Xie Yu in the end? His only fitting fate should be being made into a human barbeque meat bun to feed the dogs!

Wait, no…no..

The most pressing question now was: why was Zhou Yimei alone in the bamboo forest in the middle of the night?

Just as Ning Ning was pondering this, Pei Ji, standing beside her, spoke calmly, “Miss Zhou.”

Zhou Yimei concealed the panic in her eyes and gave a slight nod to the two of them.

“Young Master Pei, Miss Ning.”

Given her status, Xie Yu likely wouldn’t bother introducing every cultivator to her, yet she had carefully memorized their names during dinner—a testament to her grace and etiquette.

No one else was present in the bamboo forest.

Under the silence of the night, the woman in the white dress paused briefly and lowered her voice, “I ask that both of you keep tonight’s encounter a secret… My childhood friend couldn’t bear to see me in such a state and brought me medicine. If he finds out, I fear more innocent lives will be lost.”

Oh? He appears! The infatuated second male lead who always helps in times of crisis, only to be rewarded with a “you’re such a good person” sentence!

Ning Ning noticed that Zhou Yimei didn’t even mention Xie Yu by name, instead referring to him as “he.”

“You two are disciples of a noble sect, surely full of compassion. I beg you to show some mercy to those of us who suffer—”

Before she could finish, Zhou Yimei was overtaken by a fit of coughing.

Ning Ning, seeing her frailty, sympathetically interjected, “Don’t worry, Miss Zhou. We’ll keep your secret.”

Only then did Zhou Yimei purse her lips into a faint smile, her face pale as she thanked them.

“It’s late, I must return to my room to rest. You two should also return to the manor soon.”

Clearly, she had no intention of continuing the conversation.

But Ning Ning raised an eyebrow and called out, “Miss Zhou.”

Zhou Yimei turned, her expression calm, as the young sword cultivator sincerely said, “I, too, have been hurt by my master before, so I understand how you must feel now. The one who gave Xie Yu the healing herbs and techniques back then wasn’t Gu Zhaozhao, was it? It was you, right?”

Zhou Yimei froze for a moment, her eyes filling with sorrow.

“It’s an old matter. What’s the point of bringing it up now? No matter how I explain, he’ll never believe me.”

So, she had admitted it.

This pot of melodrama is really authentic and tasty, and Ning Ning, piecing it together like a story from an old tragic romance novel that she read, could easily reconstruct the past.

A noble young lady fell in love with her family’s servant.

Due to her strict upbringing, even when she found medicine and food for him, she could only rely on her maid to deliver it.

Her love was tender and shy, but fortunately, the boy shared her feelings.

Then came the plan to elope, which was foiled when the maid leaked the secret.

Zhou Yimei was confined, and Xie Yu was left half-dead after being beaten by the family’s servants.

He believed he’d been betrayed, but he never knew the whole truth.

For instance, how the young lady had so carefully chosen herbs for him, blushing as she handed them to her maid.

Or how she would steal glances at him whenever they crossed paths, no matter how far apart they were, her bashful eyes always finding their way back to Xie Yu.

From the start, Gu Zhaozhao had claimed all the credit for delivering the medicine.

Now, even if Zhou Yimei wanted to explain, she had neither proof nor a convincing argument.

Really baffling—one’s a Demon Lord, the other’s a noble lady of the spirit clan—using the setup of ‘Avatar’, yet living out the plot of Afanti.

(T/N: The Afanti (Nasreddin), the hero of folk tales of the Muslim world, known for his wisdom and humor)

The misunderstandings layered one upon another, like Russian nesting dolls. Even Ning Ning, as a bystander, felt exhausted by it all.

Was it really necessary?

“I was never meant to be with him. Now, I’m just like a drifting reed, with no idea where to go.”

Zhou Yimei paused and then quietly added, “With my current health, I doubt I’ll live much longer. I wonder if, after I die, I’ll even draw a single tear from him.”

“Don’t be sad, Miss Zhou. Perhaps things will turn around.”

Ning Ning, empathetic, tried to console her.

Then she suddenly shifted the subject. “I’ve heard the Zhou family is a prestigious lineage of spirit cultivators, and that Xie Yu’s techniques come from this family as well. Surely Miss Zhou’s cultivation must be impressive as well, no?”

The full moon’s glow pierced through the clouds, and the sorrow and anguish in Zhou Yimei’s eyes halted abruptly.

Ning Ning maintained her calm expression and continued, “What path of cultivation does Miss Zhou follow? Talismanic arts, spellcraft, or perhaps… swordsmanship?”

Standing in the shadows of the bamboo forest, a dark look passed through Zhou Yimei’s eyes as she silently stared at Ning Ning.

After a long moment, a bitter smile formed on her lips as she raised her broken right hand.

“I’m nothing but a cripple now, Miss Ning.”

Their conversation ended there, and Zhou Yimei, her expression mournful, bid them farewell.

As her figure faded into the distance, the sympathy in Ning Ning’s eyes vanished, replaced by a hint of amusement.

“You sensed it, right?”

Pei Ji responded quickly, “Yes.”

They were both sword cultivators and were particularly sensitive to sword energy.

The moment Zhou Yimei appeared, Ning Ning had detected a fleeting trace of sword energy near her.

Cold, sharp, and elusive.

The reason for Zhou Yimei’s presence in the bamboo forest at midnight was clearly not as simple as “a childhood friend delivering medicine.”

Realizing this, Ning Ning had played along during their conversation, with both sides pretending to act.