Chapter Thirty-Two: Knots of the Heart (2)

At last, she saw Lianxin. It felt as though she had waited an entire era for this moment. Under the dim, yellow light, Lianxin emerged slowly from the great hall, accompanied by her maid. The very first thing Ye Qianran noticed were her eyes.

Those eyes were not bright; perhaps they had shed too many tears, leaving them dull and vacant. Yet within that gaze lingered such sorrow and plaintive longing that even Ye Qianran, merely observing, felt a pang of aching sympathy.

Then Ye Qianran saw her face. It was not flawless—her complexion was as pale as one untouched by sunlight for ages—but with a single glance, Ye Qianran knew she was beautiful: so delicate, so ethereal.

Zhuge Liuyun’s gaze rested quietly upon her, while Lianxin pressed her lips together in silent resentment, refusing even to glance sideways at him as she walked past.

Ye Qianran gripped her sleeve tightly. Though she had never met Lianxin before, she had heard much from Qingfeng. She had always harbored a trace of disdain for Lianxin, unwilling though she was to admit it. Outwardly, she had never shown it—her own remarkable beauty and talent often gave her a sense of superiority, even though she knew there were always those greater than herself. Yet now that sense of advantage vanished. Lianxin was not as beautiful as she, perhaps not as learned, nor of such distinguished birth, but there was an indefinable comfort about her presence. In that moment, Ye Qianran understood why Zhuge Liuyun could never forget her. Lianxin was a woman worthy of love.

A wave of unease swept over Ye Qianran. Before, Lianxin had been only a hazy shadow in her mind—a piece of Zhuge Liuyun’s past. No matter how much he clung to the memory, she believed Lianxin would always remain just that: the past. That certainty had allowed her to indulge her feelings for Zhuge Liuyun, confident she would win his heart in the end. But now, facing Lianxin, that quiet conviction dissolved into nothing.

She desperately wished to know what it would be like to speak face-to-face with Lianxin, yet she was equally afraid of what might transpire. Zhuge Liuyun’s feelings ran so deep; Ye Qianran feared the outcome of any encounter between them.

As Lianxin passed before her, Ye Qianran drew a deep breath, surrendering her struggle. She rushed to Zhuge Liuyun’s side, and before he could react, she called out to Lianxin across the noisy crowd.

Lianxin instinctively turned toward the sound, her gaze meeting Zhuge Liuyun’s. For the first time in five years, she found the courage to look directly into his eyes—and in that instant, could not look away. He had truly changed. The brash youth she once knew was gone, replaced by a calm as deep as still water. This was not the Zhuge Liuyun she remembered, yet he still radiated that unmistakable aura. He had grown more restrained, more composed.

A fleeting confusion crossed Zhuge Liuyun’s face, but he quickly recovered, his gaze settling on Lianxin.

Ye Qianran bowed her head, the corner of her lips curving into a faint, ambiguous smile. But sensing that this seemed somehow wrong, she raised her head and stepped forward to meet Lianxin.

Zhuge Liuyun stood motionless beneath the bodhi tree. Perhaps, Ye Qianran thought bitterly, his eyes had never held space for anyone but Lianxin. Still, she smiled at Lianxin. "He… has something to say to you," she said, and gently pushed her toward Zhuge Liuyun.

Then, quietly, she slipped away.

She looked up at the sky. The moon was so beautiful, so round.

Ye An and Zhuge Qingfeng followed silently behind her, exchanging uncertain glances, neither knowing what to say.

The streets were still ablaze with lanterns, bustling with life. The dazzling lights stung her eyes. She wondered what the pair would talk about—would he take Lianxin’s hand, brush the hair from her brow? She dared not let her thoughts go further. She didn’t know if she had done the right thing today, only that Zhuge Liuyun and Lianxin needed the chance to speak. What would follow, she neither considered nor wished to.

People streamed past, a river of faces. When she looked up again, Meng Lanyi stood before her, smiling gently. Ye Qianran glanced at her brother, feigning composure. She exchanged a few polite words with Meng Lanyi, doing her utmost to keep her brother behind, then left with Qingfeng.

She thought, at least, that Qingfeng would stay with her. But when she saw a beautiful foreign girl gazing ardently at Zhuge Qingfeng, she could only force a broad smile and assure the awkward Qingfeng she wanted to walk alone.

As she stepped away, a sense of relief mingled with loneliness—everyone seemed paired, and she alone was solitary.

Fireworks continued to bloom in the sky. She wandered aimlessly through the crowd. The moon hung high, yet the city blazed with light, bright as day.

Somehow, when she looked up once more, she realized she had returned to where she started: the words "Biyun Temple" loomed before her. She startled, as if her heart had just revealed its own secret. Forcing herself to leave, she mustered every reason not to think about what might be happening between the others—her mind acquiesced, but her heart would not.

She stared blankly at the temple’s inscription, wrestling with herself. In the end, she chose to walk away. The moral teachings instilled in her since childhood forbade her from such pettiness, and she had no wish to become small-minded. She was a lady of distinction, not a jealous girl.

She turned to go. In front of the temple, ancient bodhi trees stood guard. Bathed in moonlight, Lianxin emerged from the temple, her maid and Zhuge Liuyun at her side. The wind rustled the leaves. Suddenly, a masked figure in black leapt from beneath the trees, lunging swiftly at Ye Qianran from behind. Just as the hand poised to strike her neck, Zhuge Liuyun soared through the air, kicking the attacker in the back. The man, caught off guard, stumbled forward. Ye Qianran instinctively turned—he fell toward her, but she twisted aside, and he crashed to the ground.

Before she could react, several more masked figures burst out from the shadows. Zhuge Liuyun pulled her protectively behind him. The attackers exchanged glances and lunged—swift and agile. Zhuge Liuyun met their assault, but they showed little interest in a prolonged fight; their single aim was to seize Ye Qianran. He kept her shielded behind him. Sensing their impatience, the attackers drew short knives, cold blades glinting in the moonlight. Their movements grew ruthless, desperate. Zhuge Liuyun understood he could not win by force alone; he focused only on keeping them at bay. The fight reached a stalemate.

Suddenly, the leader caught sight of Lianxin standing apart. His eyes flashed coldly, and he charged at her, knife raised—hoping to distract Zhuge Liuyun. Instinctively, Zhuge Liuyun tried to break free, but the attackers held him fast. Lianxin stood frozen as the blade drove toward her.

In that critical moment, Ye Qianran threw herself forward, shoving Lianxin aside as the knife plunged straight into her own abdomen. Blood oozed from the wound, dark and slow. The assailant seemed stunned, hesitating as he saw the blade buried in her flesh. Then, abruptly, he withdrew the knife and retreated. Zhuge Liuyun finally reached her as she looked up at him, frowned, and collapsed into his arms.

The attackers exchanged looks, then melted away into the night.

All color drained from Lianxin’s lips. She trembled so violently she could barely stand. Her maid, long paralyzed with fear, rushed shakily to her side to support her frail form.

Blood continued to pour from Ye Qianran’s wound, staining Zhuge Liuyun’s white robe like blossoms of crimson plum—chill and vivid as burning fire. Lying in his arms, she drew a long, ragged breath. Scarlet blood welled from her lips, yet she stubbornly tried to speak. Each word fell with piercing clarity into his heart: “The debt you owe her, let me repay in your place. From now on, don’t think of her anymore, all right?” Even loving him so deeply, she had never spoken with such weakness before. She always tried to act generous, dignified, and understanding before him, pretending not to care about his past. But no matter how hard she tried, she was still just a woman. She could not remain indifferent.

Now, she only wanted to be selfish—just this once, to claim his heart entirely for herself.

His voice shook, hoarse with emotion, as he gently wiped the blood from her lips. “Don’t speak. I’ll take you to a doctor.”

The blood would not stop. She gazed at his pale, anguished face, and a faint, fleeting smile touched her lips. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. With trembling, bloodstained hands, she caressed his handsome face. Her strength was fading, but her words were unbearably poignant. “At last, I see myself in your eyes. You’re pained for me—and that is enough. I’m happy.” Her hand slipped away. Zhuge Liuyun pressed his brow tightly to hers. “No more talking. We’ll find a doctor right now.”

She could hold on no longer and fainted from the pain.

He lifted her and, passing Lianxin, glanced at her with a low, rough voice: “I must go. Take care of yourself.”

Lianxin nodded. He hurried away, clutching Ye Qianran.

Lianxin watched his retreating figure—so resolute, so urgent, he hadn’t even a moment to look back at her. At last, her strength failed, and she sank to the ground.

She remembered the look in his eyes as he gazed at the woman in his arms—at the moment she fell, Lianxin saw his whole body tremble, as if he were about to lose the most precious thing in the world. She had seen that look only twice—once, when she told him her parents would marry her to another. Then, too, there had been that same panic.

She had thought she would remain eternal in his heart—but in the end, he had fallen in love with someone else.