“No!” Amber snapped to attention, stumbling to her feet and throwing herself in front of Mo Xie. “He’s done nothing wrong—he’s innocent! Listen to me, please listen!”
“Explain.” Xuan Ye’s voice was steady, but the tension in it was palpable.
“He’s done nothing wrong,” Amber repeated after recounting everything. “He’s just an ignorant, pitiful man. I beg you, let him go!”
“Bi Xi is your sister?” Chi Xue suddenly crouched down, his usual obliviousness giving way to rare perceptiveness. “Did she die from an illness? Then why was she entangled with that fox spirit?”
Amber bit her lip.
“You know,” Chi Xue continued, “a single lie casts doubt on everything you’ve said.”
Amber took a deep breath, her hands curling into fists. “The leader of the fox clan… wasn’t Yan Liu,” she admitted at last. “One day, Yan Liu came to my sister and proposed a deal. If my sister helped her ascend to leadership, she promised ten years of peace between our clans.”
“How could she help her become leader? Your sister wasn’t even a member of the fox clan,” Chi Xue asked, his tone as naive as ever.
“The current leader was still alive. Of course, Yan Liu couldn’t ascend while her sister, Yan Huai, was still in power,” Amber replied with a sigh. “The only way was for her sister to die.”
The fox clan’s internal strife—sisters turning on each other—highlighted the bloody treachery behind their seemingly prosperous façade.
Amber and Bi Xi, however, had never succumbed to such betrayal.
Dragging her wounded, battered body, Bi Xi had stood between Amber and Mo Xie, protecting them even as she faded.
The longer Bi Xi lived, the more she saw herself as a blight—a glaring, superfluous presence.
She didn’t know how much Yan Liu truly understood about their situation. All she knew was that Yan Liu’s words had solidified her resolve.
Yan Huai was powerful. In her current state, Bi Xi couldn’t defeat her.
But if she gave everything she had, sacrificing herself to take Yan Huai down, it might just be possible.
The fox clan valued its promises above all else. If Yan Liu became leader, her vow would ensure the marten clan could recuperate in peace.
And Bi Xi… would finally disappear.
It was the perfect ending.
So Bi Xi made her decision. Without informing Amber, she set everything in place and went to confront Yan Huai alone, ready to fulfill her fatal bargain.
By the time Mo Xie returned, Bi Xi was barely holding on, her breath faint and fragile. Yet even then, she remained unyielding, holding Amber close without shedding a single tear.
“Mo Xie loves me now,” she murmured, her voice steady despite her fading strength. “But it’s just a foolish infatuation of youth. When I’m gone—three, five years from now—grass will grow over my grave. He’ll come during Qingming, burn some paper, and shed a few tears. He’ll only mourn for a day, and then he’ll move on.”
She paused to wipe Amber’s tears, her tone turning tender despite her stoicism. “As for whether you want to stay with him, that’s up to you. My only wish is to leave this world with dignity. I don’t want to return to my true form. When the time comes, use an illusion to conceal my wounds. Let him believe I remained the perfect Bi Xi, whole and intact.”
“I want you to swear—never speak of me to him. Not a word. I’ve lived my life with pride, and I cannot bear to lose my dignity, even in death.”
That was Bi Xi’s final request, her last words in this world.
From beginning to end, Bi Xi never admitted she loved Mo Xie. She never acknowledged the nights of turmoil in her heart, nor the sacrifices she made to retain her human form—the only memory of her she wanted to leave him with.
Whatever feelings she had, she carried them to her grave, unyielding and unspoken.
“Bi Xi died like that,” Amber finally confessed, her voice trembling as she finished recounting the story. “They loved each other deeply. They were perfect for each other. If only he hadn’t returned unexpectedly, their story wouldn’t have ended this way.”
Xuan Ye said nothing, his grip steady on the glowing blade of Yue Ying.
“He’s done nothing wrong!” Amber pleaded, stepping forward with burning eyes. “He’s just a simple hunter—a man so straightforward he can’t even think in circles. Please, I beg you, let him go.”
“As a human, he may not have done wrong. But as an evil spirit, he absorbed resentment and caused harm. He has taken lives.”
“He didn’t know! He didn’t mean to do it!”
“But he did,” Xuan Ye’s voice was unyielding, as cold and immovable as stone. “And for that, there must be consequences.”
At that moment, all hope faded.
Amber staggered back, each step leaving the grass beneath her feet withered and brittle. The ground turned an eerie amber hue, reflecting the near-translucent clarity of her eyes.
Xuan Ye still held his blade steady, but an inexplicable weight gripped his heart. It was as though an unseen hand had seized it, controlling its rhythm against his will.
First came whispers, urging him to show mercy.
Then his heartbeat began to slow, each thud heavier and more reluctant.
“Carrying such a secret,” a voice whispered within him, “destined to hurt those you wish to protect… It’s so exhausting. Why keep going?”
The voice grew louder, as if it were his own. His breath faltered, his vision dimmed, and yet he could still see Amber. Her long hair turned a faded yellow, her presence radiating a suffocating malevolence.
“Amber,” Xuan Ye shouted, summoning his remaining strength, “are you truly willing to sacrifice others for your selfish desires? Is this the path you want to take, to turn your gift into a weapon of destruction?”
The words pierced Amber’s heart like a dagger, halting her descent into madness.
Yue Ying flew through the air, its glowing blade embedding itself in Mo Xie’s forehead. Amber collapsed to her knees, her fight finally extinguished.
“I can release part of his spirit,” Xuan Ye said, his voice low but steady. “Let him awaken. It will give you a chance to tell him the truth.”
Amber shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “He loves Bi Xi. The perfect, godlike Bi Xi. Even his hatred stems from his love for her.”
Covering her face with trembling hands, she continued, “He doesn’t need the truth. It would be too cruel. He can’t bear it.”
“And what about you?” Chi Xue asked quietly from the side.
Amber didn’t answer. Instead, she lowered her head until her hair brushed the ground.
Yue Ying pulsed with light as it absorbed Mo Xie’s spirit. His essence, fragile as a wisp of smoke, dissipated into the blade. His soul would be trapped for eternity, bound to the cycle of imprisonment.
For all eternity, his heart would belong to Bi Xi—perfect and untouchable.
As for Amber’s love, it was fleeting as the wind passing through the willows, ephemeral as a bird darting through the clouds. Forgotten, insignificant, leaving no trace.
“I’ll be fine,” Amber said at last. Her voice was soft, her head bowed.
Her long hair cascaded around her like a curtain of faded gold, blending into the dry, lifeless earth.
0 Comments