Chapter 103: Disappearance
Qu Weiyin averted her gaze, finally swallowing the food in her mouth. Just as she turned to look for water, Luo Jinxiao’s kiss landed seamlessly on her lips.
As their lips pressed closer, the woman’s delicate fragrance, mingled with the sweetness of sugar, slowly melted in her mouth. Luo Jinxiao savored all the sweetness within, then finally pulled away.
Qu Weiyin’s phoenix eyes were misty. She reached out to wipe the remnants from the corner of her mouth.
“It’s getting late, let’s rest,” Qu Weiyin said.
She stood up, pushing the chair behind her, and walked towards the inner room. Her long hair cascaded down to her waist, concealing the sway of her hips. Just as Luo Jinxiao was about to follow, Qu Weiyin suddenly turned around, blocking the doorway.
“You should go back, Jinxiao.”
Although Qu Weiyin’s tone was gentle, her dim eyes revealed her profound sadness.
Luo Jinxiao stopped, watching as the door closed before her.
Seeing Qu Weiyin like this pained her deeply, but she didn’t know how to console her. After all, it was because Qu Weiyin cared for her that she was in such distress.
She sighed deeply, resignedly stuffing the Dragon’s Beard Candy into her own mouth.
Perhaps it would be better to let Qu Weiyin be alone for a while.
Outside the window, the sky gradually darkened. The summer evening was sultry and filled with the incessant chirping of cicadas. Qu Weiyin sat quietly on the bed, her heart restless. With a flick of her sleeve, the competing cicada songs were silenced.
Now, everything was quiet again.
Only a few thin, orange clouds drifted across the sky. The setting sun had long since disappeared, leaving behind a desolate and oppressive loneliness.
Qu Weiyin felt as if she had turned to stone, not wanting to do anything.
The scenes from the illusion replayed in her mind, over and over again. She had killed the person she loved most. The moment Luo Jinxiao was struck down had become a curse, trapping her within its torment.
She no longer dared to face Luo Jinxiao or accept her kindness.
She recalled their first meeting at Wuhui Sect years ago. Back then, Luo Jinxiao had the chance to kill her for revenge or to stay far away from this “murderer.”
But not only did she not do that, she always greeted her with a smile. It was that very smile that made her fall deeper and deeper.
She was the only good thing in this world.
As these thoughts consumed her, Qu Weiyin suddenly bent over, painfully pounding her fists against her legs.
“Everyone will be implicated because of you. Haven’t you noticed? You are the root of all sorrow?”
The words from the illusion echoed in her mind, refusing to dissipate. Qu Weiyin gasped for breath, trying to banish them.
“I will still die before your eyes. This is all your fault.”
“Shut up!” Qu Weiyin suddenly let out a suppressed roar. She grabbed the Crescent Star Sword and viciously slashed it across her arm.
Wounds inflicted by a divine sword were difficult to heal. A bloody gash appeared on her fair skin, oozing dark-tinged blood that dripped onto her fingertips and fell to the floor.
The intense pain in her arm finally brought her some clarity, dispelling the illusions and gradually silencing the voices.
She gritted her teeth, clutching her arm as she slowly collapsed onto the bed, her beautiful hair spreading out like a fan. She didn’t tend to the wound but instead curled up into a ball.
Outside, night had fully set in. As the last bit of daylight faded from Qu Weiyin’s form, she lay still for a long time before slowly closing her eyes.
However, as she drifted between sleep and wakefulness until midnight, her heart suddenly trembled as if falling into an abyss, jolting her awake. She was drenched in sweat.
Qu Weiyin exhaled deeply. The blood on her hand had dried, and the pain had subsided.
Once awake, she couldn’t fall back asleep. She got up, dragging her weary body out the door. The courtyard was eerily quiet, and the sky was moonless.
After a moment of hesitation, she walked towards Luo Jinxiao’s room. Though unsure how to face her, in this moment, she desperately needed her.
A candle still flickered in Luo Jinxiao’s room, casting warm, flickering shadows. Qu Weiyin stood outside the window, wrapped in a thin robe, watching silently.
Standing there, she suddenly felt a sense of safety.
The door abruptly opened, and Luo Jinxiao poked her head out. Upon seeing Qu Weiyin, she quickly ran out, coming to a stop before her.
“Why aren’t you asleep yet? Even though it’s a summer night, there’s still a bit of a breeze. Be careful not to catch a cold,” Luo Jinxiao said, taking her wrist and leading her inside.
Her grip landed right on the wound. Qu Weiyin gasped, instinctively hiding her hand behind her back.
“Being both immortal and demon, how could I possibly catch a cold?” Qu Weiyin shook her head.
“Even so, you shouldn’t be standing outside.” Luo Jinxiao noticed her evasion and, instead, pulled on her sleeve, guiding her into the room.
Old books and scrolls were scattered across the table in a chaotic mess. The floor was similarly cluttered, leaving little space to walk. Luo Jinxiao rubbed her head, chuckling sheepishly.
“Have a seat. I thought you were asleep already, so I was just browsing through some old books I found in here, passing the time,” Luo Jinxiao said, shoving the books and bamboo slips into a corner.
Qu Weiyin glanced around, catching sight of titles like ‘Origins of the Immortal Sects’ and ‘Chronicles of the Divine.’
“Haven’t you lived for a long time? Do you still need to read these?” Qu Weiyin asked, shielding her hand with her sleeve as she sat down.
Luo Jinxiao scratched her head. “Well, yes, but it’s been so long. I’ve forgotten what I should have forgotten. It’s just to pass the time.”
She had been worried about Qu Weiyin and hadn’t slept, just in case Qu Weiyin came looking for her. Fortunately, she had stayed awake.
Qu Weiyin hummed in response, then fell silent.
An awkward silence settled between them. Luo Jinxiao paced back and forth, then poured her a cup of tea. “Are you…”
“Can I rest here with you?” Qu Weiyin suddenly interrupted, her voice barely a whisper.
Luo Jinxiao was naturally more than happy to oblige. She closed the door with a wave of her hand and then scurried to tidy up the bed. Her white inner robe trailed behind her, revealing a slender, graceful arm.
She quickly finished and turned back to Qu Weiyin with a bright smile.
Qu Weiyin averted her gaze, rising to her feet. Her thin, red silk robe billowed in the night breeze, brushing coolly against Luo Jinxiao’s hand.
Qu Weiyin lay down on the mat and, with her uninjured hand, reached for Luo Jinxiao’s, whispering, “Jinxiao, come here.”
Luo Jinxiao’s heart leapt, her palm instantly covered in sweat. Though it wasn’t their first time sleeping together, her legs still stiffened as they always did.
She lay down stiffly, her head bumping against the edge of the bed with a thud.
Qu Weiyin was startled by the sudden impact and quickly reached out to cradle the back of her head, scolding gently, “Why are you so careless? Does it hurt?”
Embarrassed, Luo Jinxiao shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m part immortal, part divine. It doesn’t hurt.”
But as she moved her head, she caught sight of Qu Weiyin’s injured hand. Her smile vanished, and she swiftly grabbed Qu Weiyin’s elbow, forcing the wound into the light.
“What happened?” Luo Jinxiao asked, propping herself up on one elbow to examine the wound closely.
Unable to heal with spiritual energy, the edges blackened, it was clearly caused by the Crescent Star Sword.
“Did you do this to yourself?” she pressed.
Luo Jinxiao’s brow furrowed in concern, her dark eyes appearing even deeper, almost intimidating. Qu Weiyin couldn’t help but look away.
“Just an accident. It’s nothing,” Qu Weiyin tried to pull her hand away, but Luo Jinxiao held on tight.
Suppressing her anger, Luo Jinxiao summoned her cool divine power, slowly enveloping the wound. After a moment, it healed completely.
She carefully placed Qu Weiyin’s delicate arm back on the bed and gazed at her intently.
“Because of me, wasn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes.” Qu Weiyin no longer tried to hide it. She curled up, staring silently at her hand.
“I told you, you really don’t have to blame yourself. I don’t mind. Why would you hurt yourself?” Luo Jinxiao was usually good-tempered, but seeing Qu Weiyin’s injury had ignited her anger, and her voice was laced with displeasure.
“Qu Weiyin…”
“Luo Jinxiao!” Qu Weiyin suddenly interrupted, also propping herself up on one elbow, her long hair obscuring half her face.
“Because it’s you, I care. I didn’t hurt just anyone, I hurt the person I love most, the only person I love…”
Her voice trembled towards the end, dissolving into a sigh.
“Just like how I used to avoid my feelings for you, I’m truly afraid. I’m afraid that you, like everyone else, will die before my eyes, one by one.”
“I can’t bear to see that, Jinxiao…” As she spoke, her eyes welled up with tears.
Hearing the tremor in her voice, Luo Jinxiao froze, her anger dissipating instantly. She helplessly ruffled her hair, rubbing her hand against Qu Weiyin’s face.
She understood Qu Weiyin’s pain but didn’t know how to alleviate it.
“That won’t happen. I’m a god. I’m incredibly tough. I can’t be killed, I can’t die of old age. I’ll definitely live longer than you,” Luo Jinxiao said, forcing a smile.
Qu Weiyin’s lips twitched slightly at these words. Just as she was about to speak, Luo Jinxiao leaned in, her warm hand brushing Qu Weiyin’s neck, sending a tingle through her.
The woman’s strong yet soft hands gently touched her waist, holding her close. Qu Weiyin relaxed, leaning back with her head tilted upwards, her tear-filled eyes gazing at the pearwood carvings on the headboard.
Lips brushed against her ear, and Qu Weiyin closed her eyes slightly. A moist breath fell from the corner of her eye to her hair, and she couldn’t help but murmur softly.
Luo Jinxiao showered her face with tender kisses, slowly moving upwards. Qu Weiyin arched her neck, melting into the kisses, motionless except for her hands slowly gripping Luo Jinxiao’s clothes tighter.
She didn’t want to resist, only wishing to quietly fall asleep in her embrace.
Luo Jinxiao loved every inch of the woman’s body. Compared to the shyness of their last encounter, her desire seemed even more intense this time.
But she still stopped, rolling back to lie at the edge of the bed, listening to Qu Weiyin’s breathing slow as she held her hand tightly.
The candle went out, plunging the room into darkness. Qu Weiyin opened her eyes, gazing at Luo Jinxiao’s profile in the night before drifting off to sleep.
With Luo Jinxiao by her side, her dreams were clearly much safer.
The next day, the cicadas resumed their chorus. As dawn broke, Luo Jinxiao was awakened by their incessant chirping. The faint light of dawn filtered through the window, falling on her pillow.
Luo Jinxiao instinctively reached for the other side of the bed, only to find it empty. She abruptly rolled out of bed, noticing that the other half was pristine, as if no one had ever slept there.
A wave of anxiety washed over her. She scanned the surroundings with her senses but still couldn’t detect Qu Weiyin’s presence.
