Chapter Sixty-Two: The Man in Black is Him

Update time: 2013-06-28

Once again, the world spun violently. After a long and exhausting journey, Lian Yue finally felt solid ground beneath her feet. She opened her eyes and looked at her jade-like hands, now covered in wounds. The raging fire inside her instantly consumed the last remnants of her reason. Without caring for her appearance, she shouted at the black-clad man who was still busy with his own affairs.

“Are you out of your mind? Do you have any sense of pity for the weak?”

“Look at my face! Look at my hands! What do you think they've become?”

With these words, Lian Yue glared at the man in black who had turned toward her, her eyes filled with a murderous intent, and pointed with her injured hand at the stinging wound on her face.

The masked man's gaze landed on her injury, and for a fleeting moment, a trace of pain and regret flashed in his eyes. He fought the urge to step forward and gently soothe her, an unusual panic rising within his heart.

But in Lian Yue’s eyes, all of this took on a different meaning. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head, and the reason she thought had been burned away now revived, sprouting and growing stronger.

It's over, she thought in terror. Why is he looking at me the same way Aunt Lan looks at those dying sparrows she tests her medicines on? Unless...

A cold sweat broke out across Lian Yue’s forehead, and fear began to creep up from the depths of her heart. She truly regretted her earlier rashness. Worse yet, she had just realized she could move again—her strength hadn’t fully recovered, but at least escaping was no longer out of the question.

Yet, moments ago, she’d been so focused on demanding answers that she’d forgotten about her own safety. Just now, while playing with Yao Yao in the carriage, she’d accidentally hurt her, and in her haste had taken out all her silver needles. Now, she was practically digging her own grave.

As the black-clad man took step after step toward her, Lian Yue’s heart sank in tandem. When death draws near, calm and reason shatter like glass.

“What do you want from me? Do you even know who I am?” Her voice trembled. “You can't kill me!”

The man’s steps halted. He looked at her, now shaking with fear, and a pang of pain shot through his chest.

“Yue Lian Yue, fifteen years of age, third young lady of the Yue family. Eldest sister, Yue Lian Yu, Princess of Nanping. Elder brother, Yue Ling Jun, heir to the Yue family. Second brother, Meng Chuchen, current leader of the Hidden Sect.”

With each name the man recited in his deep, gravelly voice, Lian Yue’s terror was gradually replaced by astonishment. When he mentioned Meng Chuchen, her eyes widened in shock.

“How do you know all that?”

The man realized his mistake but did not explain. Instead, he took out a porcelain bottle from his robe and tossed it to her. “Apply the medicine first.”

Lian Yue caught it instinctively, but her hand trembled uncontrollably. Apply medicine? Or is it poison?

With a sudden jolt, the bottle slipped from her grasp and fell onto the grass at her feet.

“This is poison…” she murmured, her eyes vacant, staring at the bottle lying on the grass.

The black-clad man, whose eyes had never left her, suddenly felt a strong urge to hold her in his arms. He couldn’t help but explain, “It’s for your wounds.” The gentleness in his voice startled even himself.

“For my wounds…” Lian Yue echoed, and gradually, her eyes regained their focus. So it was for her injuries.

She glanced suspiciously at the man standing where he was, then bent down to pick up the bottle. She uncorked it, brought it to her nose, and took a couple of cautious sniffs. The faint, pleasant scent really did seem like medicine.

So it was her own imagination… Two rosy patches appeared on her cheeks. Lian Yue dipped her finger into the bottle, scooping out a small, pearl-like dab of ointment, and raised her hand to apply it to her still-throbbing wound.

The man frowned and said, “Wait!”

Lian Yue, just beginning to relax, tensed up again, forcing herself to look calm as she glanced at him.

She saw him turn and walk to the other side of the horse, which was grazing nearby. Once again, she was torn—should she try to escape now?

Before she could make up her mind, the man returned, now holding a waterskin. She quickly abandoned her thoughts of escape and stared fixedly at the ointment on her fingertip.

The man sensed her wariness but didn’t care. “Handkerchief.”

Lian Yue was about to reach into her sleeve for one, but remembered that she'd pulled all of her handkerchiefs out with her silver needles. Embarrassed, she lowered her head and muttered, “I don’t have one…”

The man paused, then turned and untied the black cloth from his face. With the cloth gone, a strikingly handsome face was revealed—sun-kissed skin, sharp brows, a high nose, thin but tightly pressed lips, and deep, jet-black eyes.

If Lian Yue saw that face now, she would surely recognize him, for she had once been captivated by it.

The man was none other than Yu Wen Lingxi. He took out a bronze mask shaped like fangs from his sleeve, concealed his striking features once more, then turned back, opened the waterskin, soaked the black cloth, wrung out the excess water, and handed it to Lian Yue.

She stared at his actions in a daze, unconsciously accepting the cloth but making no further move.

“Clean the wound first, then apply the medicine.”

Only then did Lian Yue understand his meaning. Staring at the cloth in her hand, she was lost once more.

He… doesn’t seem like a bad person. Maybe… maybe my life isn’t in danger. Maybe he’ll let me go soon.

Yu Wen Lingxi looked at his absent-minded fiancée, and his heart, cold as stone, softened once more. Beneath the mask, his lips curved into a high smile. He recalled her bright laughter and clear voice when she’d hidden in the secret compartment beneath the carriage’s couch, and his resolve to never let her go grew even stronger.

He still remembered the first time he met Lian Yue. Back then, he was just a four-year-old child, ignorant of the world.

That year, his father was scolding him for his mischief, when Steward Guan delivered a letter. After reading it, his father first laughed heartily, then his expression turned dark—darker than when he’d scolded his son.

Yu Wen Lingxi watched as his father smashed the rosewood desk with a single palm. Frightened, he stood trembling but dared not move away. The flying splinters stung his head, face, and body, but he forced back tears, refusing to cry out.

Later, Steward Guan took him out to treat and bandage his wounds.

Then, news came that his father would take him on a long journey.

Steward Guan quickly changed his clothes and led him to the front gate. His father glanced at him once and then, without a word, announced their departure, whip raised. The little boy stood dumbly in place—before him, only a horse whose stirrups were at chest level and a few guards already mounted and glaring at him. There was no carriage, not even his usual pony for practice.

With the steward’s help, he finally managed to climb onto the horse, gripping the reins and clamping his little legs tightly around its belly. If not for the attendants’ care along the way, he would have fallen countless times.

Even so, by the time they reached Lingyang City, his legs were badly chafed and his hands covered in calluses. His father merely glanced at him, didn’t ask a single question, and only had someone deliver a jade pendant.

He recognized the pendant—it had never left his father’s side. Imitating him, he tied it to his own waist.

Despite the pain, he followed his father in fear. He knew they had come for the Yue family’s youngest daughter’s full moon celebration.

For the first time, Yu Wen Lingxi, who had never resented anyone, felt a surge of anger toward this baby girl he’d never met.

He watched as everyone gathered around the swaddled, sleeping child. Even his father’s frosty expression melted into a gentleness he’d never seen before.

A seed called jealousy sprouted and grew rapidly in his heart.

So, when no one was watching, he snuck over to the baby’s side and, through the swaddling, pinched her hard with his small hand.

The baby, who had been sleeping soundly, woke with a start, her long-closed eyes flickering open. She waved her little hands in protest.

Yu Wen Lingxi stared, panic-stricken, at his own reflection in those pitch-black eyes. The baby’s mouth trembled, and she looked about to cry.

He tried to slip away, only to discover that the child had somehow grabbed hold of his jade pendant. Then, with a wail, she burst into tears.

At once, the entire hall turned to look. Yu Wen Lingxi stood there, not knowing what to do with his hands.

He could feel his father’s cold gaze piercing him.

Then, a comic scene unfolded. Perhaps sensing all the attention, the little one, still tear-stained, suddenly burst into giggles.

Yu Wen Lingxi stared at the laughing baby, and for the first time thought she was truly adorable.

From there, everything unfolded unexpectedly. The jade pendant that had hung at his waist for less than a day was taken by his father and gifted to the little girl. Strangely, he felt no resentment at all.

Soon after, an engagement was arranged between him and the baby.

When he returned home, he was officially named the family’s successor, and with that came unending darkness.

But no matter how much pain he endured, as long as he thought of her smile, all the shadows in his heart vanished. That smile became the eternal sun in his world.

After emerging from that darkness, he used his missions as an excuse to linger in Lingyang City more than once, just to catch a glimpse of her.

Three years ago, in Lingyang, he would visit Ruixiang Pavilion every day, waiting just to see her. No one could tell how happy it made him. Years of experience had taught him to hide his emotions.

That was why he couldn’t help eavesdropping, couldn’t help caring. When he heard her wish for an instrumental accompaniment, he found himself, almost against his will, taking out his jade flute and playing.

As soon as the song ended, he hurriedly dragged Qiao Zhi away.

But their eyes met just once downstairs, and again he was lost in those luminous eyes.

Suppressing his panic, he escaped.

Later, there was a chance encounter at the Yue mansion—catching the beauty in his arms.

He was so worried he nearly lost his composure. No one knew that he’d braved the Soul-Breaking Formation on the very first night, only to be carried back to the inn by Steward Guan.

Protecting her had become almost instinctive.

Those few days together at Phoenix Ridge were a rare joy for him.

Yet he dared not express any of his feelings, forced always to hide them behind the cold mask he’d mastered so well.