Murong Qiufeng’s eyes widened. He stood, staring at the two men who had been thrown to the ground, dumbfounded as he looked at Shangguan Ye.
But Shangguan Ye gave him no chance to speak. He stepped forward, pressing a few acupoints to temporarily seal Murong Qiufeng’s body, then scooped him up in his arms and strode away.
They say jealousy can drive one mad. That saying is not only for women—it fits men even better.
“Damn it! You bastard! Where are you taking our senior?” Xiao Yan shouted, clutching his chest as he struggled to rise. He and Yan Qiren tried to rush after him.
But they had barely reached the doorway when someone blocked their path.
“Step aside, you closed-mouthed fool, or don’t blame me for being rude,” Xiao Yang barked, his anger surging. Part of it came from frustration at being unable to protect Murong Qiufeng, another part from the helplessness of being felled with a single strike.
Yan Qiren reached out to restrain Xiao Yan, gripping the sword hand. His expression was cold as he addressed the man in front of them. “Give us a reason not to fight.”
A Si (the man) looked at them coolly, a flicker of emotion passing through his eyes, but he finally spoke in a low voice, “The master will be fine.”
“Hmph. And who do you think your master really is? Looks like you two are cut from the same cloth,” Xiao Yan snarled at A Si.
Yan Qiren gave A Si a long, measured look, pressed his lips, and then, taking Xiao Yan by the hand, turned back toward the house.
“Hey, senior brother, what are you doing?” Xiao Yan’s voice was filled with surprise as he was pulled along.
The ink-black night was pierced by the icy wind, sharp as blades. Even with clothing shielding him, he could feel the cold trying to slice through his skin. Yet another chill came from behind—from the hand that had wrapped around his waist, pressing him almost into Shangguan Ye’s chest. His ear pressed against the broad chest, feeling the irregular heartbeat thumping beneath, and unease surged through him. He had no idea why Shangguan Ye was so angry, or what he intended to do.
No matter how clever he was, he could not guess Shangguan Ye’s mood or the source of his rage. At that moment, Shangguan Ye was like a volcano on the brink of eruption, and it terrified him.
Suddenly, the neighing of a horse cut through the night, and before he could react further, he was lifted into the air.
His eyes snapped open. Seeing the path Shangguan Ye was charging down, his pupils constricted sharply.
Ahead lay a small ice-cold pond, only partially thawed. Several streams merged into it, the crystal-clear water sending waves of cold through the air. Chunks of ice floated on the surface. He inhaled sharply.
But Shangguan Ye’s speed was relentless. Before he could process anything, he was plunged headfirst into the icy water.
The moment he hit the water, freezing chills engulfed him. His breathing almost stopped, and his body stiffened as if turned to ice.
Shangguan Ye’s lips pressed against his, forcing them open. The cold numbed him completely. Beyond the biting cold and tingling numbness, he could feel nothing—no pain, no sensation. Even if slashes were cut across him now, he would not feel them.
The little breath he had left quickly vanished in that kiss. Dizziness overwhelmed his mind, while his heart raced uncontrollably. He tried to push him away, but he could not move. Suffocation, the looming terror of death, pressed down on him. Yet within that brush with mortality, he could feel an almost insane obsession emanating from Shangguan Ye, a wrath so overwhelming it seemed to blanket the world.
Just as he thought he would die, Shangguan Ye lifted him out of the water. The kiss ended, and the sudden influx of air nearly sent him into shock. The hands supporting his back radiated faint warmth, slowly dispelling some of the cold that had numbed him, though his body remained stiff.
Shangguan Ye held him tightly, as if trying to merge him into his own body. His head rested against Murong Qiufeng’s shoulder, and he panted heavily. His eyes were bloodshot, veins of red stark against their white, his face feral and wild.
Murong Qiufeng shivered uncontrollably, coughing from the icy water and the terror of the near-death experience, mixed with the fear inspired by Shangguan Ye.
Sensing his fear, Shangguan Ye’s bloodshot eyes finally closed, then reopened, the murderous aura subdued slightly. He drew a deep breath and slammed a palm onto the water’s surface. Using the recoil, both were lifted out of the pond and landed on a large stone by the water’s edge.
Murong Qiufeng finally saw Shangguan Ye’s expression clearly. His heart clenched at the sight—eyes spreading with crimson veins, full of pain and frustration, like a wounded beast venting its rage and suffering through violence.
“You…” Murong Qiufeng stammered, hoarse. He realized his acupoints had been released, but could only manage that one word before coughing violently.
Shangguan Ye forced his eyes shut, chest heaving, his breath heavy as if it could consume the world. After a long moment, he spoke, eyes flashing like lightning: “I thought I had all of your heart… but it turns out I’ve only claimed a fraction. The rest… is probably Yun Feiyang, isn’t it?”
Murong Qiufeng froze, then widened his eyes. His voice hoarse, he asked, “What are you saying? Why would you think that?”
“Have I not told you? Your eyes do not lie. They cannot hide your heart. Every single emotion is clear for anyone who knows how to see. Yun Feiyang… in your heart, he surpasses everyone. Even me. And yet I thought I possessed your whole heart… only a fragment, while I am far less important than Yun Feiyang, isn’t that so?” Shangguan Ye gripped his shoulders tightly, almost shouting.
The struggle and pain in Murong Qiufeng’s eyes pierced Shangguan Ye’s own heart. Perhaps Murong Qiufeng did not love Yun Feiyang—not romantically—but the intensity of his feelings was undeniable.
The more one cares for someone, the deeper the pain when wounded. Even uncertain scheming could cause such sorrow to flare. Seeing the one he valued hurt so clearly showed just how deeply Yun Feiyang had rooted in Murong Qiufeng’s heart—far deeper than Shangguan Ye had imagined.
Murong Qiufeng’s eyes reflected confusion, but clarity quickly returned. Stammering slightly, he said, “Senior brother saved me. He is my most important family—he gave me new life. He is vital, I have said it. He is my brother. But you… you are also important. Our significance is different.”
“Heh… brother,” Shangguan Ye’s low laugh was chilling, almost sinister. He stared into Murong Qiufeng’s eyes, as if he could see straight through him. “Brother, huh? Stop deceiving yourself. You know. You know everything. You think you can hide your heart… but alas…”
