Chen Yi woke up and imdiately noticed the dried tear tracks on her face.
In his arms, Yin Tingxue was still deep in sleep, her brows lightly knitted, perhaps lost in a dream filled with turmoil and sorrow.
Chen Yi turned his head toward the panel.
[Resentnt Yin-Yang Technique (Supre Tier) (Minor Achievent)]
[You have finally united with an enemy as a Dao companion, intertwined deeply. Once, you hated her, but now there is more pity than hatred. As for her, though she does not love you, she can no longer leave you. You are tangled together, much like intertwined vines.]
[For every enemy transford into a Dao companion, you are rewarded with two True Yuan.
They are your enemies, but they will eventually beco your Dao companions. The more they resent you, the greater the urge to tornt them—until they unwillingly yet inevitably submit to you.
The stronger the negative emotions before and after dual cultivation, the higher the cultivation efficiency.]
Looking at the words on the panel, Chen Yi felt no trace of joy.
By all accounts, he should have been happy. Yet, Yin Tingxue’s visage from last night still lingered in his thoughts.
"Sigh."
Chen Yi let out a long sigh, lowering his gaze to the sleeping girl. He gently touched her dried tear tracks, his emotions tangled.
Recalling the events of the previous night, Chen Yi realized his thoughts were far more complicated than he had imagined.
Though there was undeniably so satisfaction in bringing an enemy into his world, it was fleeting—overshadowed by an unspeakable sorrow. It felt as though, at so point, Yin Tingxue’s grief had seeped into his own and reached the depths of his being. He rembered her despair, clinging to him as though she was utterly broken.
"...Are you... satisfied now?"
She had weakly leaned against his chest and uttered those words.
"Mm."
At the ti, he had held her sweat-soaked shoulders.
"What’s wrong?"
The exhausted girl, summoning strength from an unknown source, had nervously and passionately pleaded:
"Then promise —please, promise —be kinder to , kinder to ! Don’t... don’t hurt ... It’s the first ti... the first ti I’ve given myself to you. I have nothing left... Please don’t hurt ... is that okay? Is that okay?"
Her words montarily stunned him. Before he could respond, she closed her eyes and fell asleep, overwheld by fatigue.
Looking at the fragile girl nestled in his arms, Chen Yi couldn’t help but kiss her forehead.
Now that he thought about it, he realized he kissed her forehead more often than her lips.
Why was that? Aren’t lips supposed to be more alluring?
Perplexed by this thought, Chen Yi tried to figure it out.
By all accounts, it should be so—he had kissed Min Ning and Min Ming on their lips, but hardly ever on their foreheads. Was it because they weren’t beautiful enough? No, they were equally breathtaking. Perhaps he would kiss their foreheads soday; it just hadn’t happened yet. Nevertheless, for so ti now, he had only kissed Yin Tingxue’s forehead.
Chen Yi reminisced about the tightness in his chest and searched for an answer.
The girl in his arms breathed softly, her lips moving slightly as she emitted an unconscious sound:
"Don’t..."
Instinctively, Chen Yi tightened his embrace. Then, realizing what he’d done, he lowered his gaze to the vulnerable girl in his arms.
He found his answer and let out a bitter laugh.
"Is it possible I actually harbor this much pity for her?"
Though he had long been aware of so affection, the instances of his chest tightening when he was around Yin Tingxue far exceeded those spent with other won. What surprised him most was how imnse and uncontrollable this pity truly was.
Chen Yi held her tightly. Yin Tingxue seed uncomfortable and instinctively pushed back, only to stop struggling monts later, settling back into her slumber.
Tornted by turbulent emotions, Chen Yi closed his eyes, patiently waiting for her to wake.
It was unclear how much ti passed before the girl in his arms let out a soft whimper near noon, stretched slightly, and opened her eyes. Upon seeing the man before her, she hesitated for a mont, then gradually relaxed.
"Awake?"
"...Mm." Yin Tingxue murmured a response.
"...I’ll go cook and then style your hair into the ’Departure Hairdo.’ It suits you, doesn’t it?" Chen Yi asked in a gentle tone.
"Whatever you think."
After hearing her reply, Chen Yi held her for a mont longer before rising to his feet. He threw on a thin robe and was about to leave.
"Wait..." she called out to him.
Chen Yi turned back to her and asked:
"What’s the matter?"
Yin Tingxue sat up, the blanket draped over her petite fra, looking at him with hesitation.
After stamring for a while, she softly said:
"You promised... to be kinder to ... Can you?"
She wasn’t asking if he rembered. She was asking if he could—which revealed the extent of her fear, deeply worried he might deceive her.
"Then be a good girl."
Chen Yi replied, kissing her forehead.
"Mm."
Yin Tingxue answered quietly. As he prepared to leave, she clutched his sleeve timidly and reminded him:
"You haven’t said if you can..."
"I can."
Finally, Chen Yi kissed her forehead again, whispering:
"...I actually like you very much."
She froze montarily, her gaze dazed as she stared at Chen Yi.
And once more, he felt that tightness in his chest.
Chen Yi turned and went to the kitchen.
He retrieved ingredients from the cellar, cleaned them, and prepared them for cooking. Lighting the stove, Chen Yi began to stir-fry.
As he cooked, Chen Yi couldn’t help but think of Yin Tingxue’s wavering expression.
Perhaps those words had caught her by surprise. When he uttered them, he had felt a heavy guilt—as if facing Zhou Yitang all over again.
"What a beast I am."
Chen Yi muttered a curse to himself.
When the al was ready, he brought it to the table, washed himself thoroughly, and returned to the bedroom. There, he found Yin Tingxue, who had already cleaned up, silently holding a hairpin and examining it.
"Do you like it?"
"...It’s beautiful." Yin Tingxue replied vaguely.
The silver hairpin shimred in her hands.
Chen Yi stepped behind her, picked up a comb, and began to arrange her hair.
"My lady, do you believe I can do this?"
"Of course."
She straightened her posture, allowing him to comb her hair.
Chen Yi’s practiced movents made quick work of styling her hair into a coiffure. When he was done, he pinched her cheek before she could dodge.
In the bronze mirror, the Departure Hairdo—a refined chignon that frad her delicate features—had taken shape, emphasizing her frailty.
Chen Yi whispered:
"Since you’ve co of age, you ought to take a courtesy na."
Previously, she had not consummated her marriage, nor had she turned twenty. Thus, she had not yet earned a courtesy na.
Yin Tingxue lowered her gaze faintly.
A courtesy na...
She didn’t wish for one.
Taking one felt like being branded as his belonging.
Yet, in the end, she obediently said:
"Then... let’s choose one. It’s fine. What do you have in mind?"
"A courtesy na should be tied to your given one, and so..."
Chen Yi studied her for a while before teasing:
"Snow Slave? Ting Slave?"
Yin Tingxue visibly shivered, her cat-like eyes widening at him.
Finally, Chen Yi spoke softly:
"How about... Silver Terrace. Does that suit you?"
Silver Terrace, inspired by Yintai Temple.
Yin Tingxue heard this and smiled faintly, nodding her approval.
Chen Yi gently ruffled her hair.
"You must be hungry. Let’s have dinner."
Before rising, she asked again:
"You really... won’t hurt ?"
"Mm, silly girl."
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