Forced to Love (GL) - Chapter 49

A loud thunderclap echoed across the sky. A bolt of lightning cut through the silent night, illuminating the rain-soaked Fuping Palace.

The palace doors remained tightly shut, blocking out the cold wind that carried the dampness of the dark night.

Inside the hall, a figure sat calmly on the main seat, eyes slightly closed, expression indifferent. The deafening thunder just moments ago seemed no different from the soft whimper of a night cat, failing to capture even a trace of her attention.

Instead, it was the faint breathing carried through distant sword energy that made her lowered eyelashes tremble slightly.

Her cold fingertips overlapped, unintentionally brushing over the blue veins on the back of her hand. Only then did Xie Xisui realize the loss of warmth in her body.

With a hint of helplessness, she slightly loosened her curled fingers. In the next moment, a hard object appeared in her palm out of thin air, glowing with a soft silver light—cold yet gentle.

Her fingertip pressed against it, tracing the uneven contours on its surface. After a moment, she slowly closed her palm around it.

Almost instantly, the coldness faded. Her palm regained warmth, and the silver stone in her grasp deepened in color with the rising temperature.

Her fingers pressed together, gripping it tightly, yet the inner light still seeped through the gaps between them. She stared at it for a while, her eyes slightly lifting.

Just like that chaotic black night when she first met Lang Yue.

Mud had splashed onto the girl’s face, layer upon layer, but despite the fear, panic, and even despair she should have felt, the moment her young eyes met Xie Xisui’s, there was a firm and unwavering light in them—along with a hint of joy, as if something lost had been regained.

It was strange. How could one feel joy for regaining something they never had?

Yet, for some reason, Xie Xisui did not reject or find it odd. Instead, in that fleeting moment, a subtle feeling took root in her heart. When the girl asked, “Will you save me?” Xie Xisui took her back to Fuping Palace, accepting her as her first direct disciple.

Even as a child, Lang Yue showed a maturity beyond her years. Xie Xisui taught her writing, reading, and the righteous path. She diligently trained and never complained, no matter how hard or tiring it was. She was careful, serious, and persistent, dedicating herself fully to her studies and training, following Xie Xisui’s every word without question.

Except for one thing—something Xie Xisui still remembered clearly.

During her first lesson on the righteous path, Xie Xisui tested her by asking, “What is the righteous path?”

The small girl stood straight, looking at Xie Xisui with clear, determined eyes. Word by word, she replied, “Master is the righteous path.”

The golden evening sunlight fell on her face, and for a moment, only the sound of breathing could be heard in the hall.

Xie Xisui looked at her, her gaze calm as she asked in return, “If one day I fall into darkness, would that still be the righteous path?”

Her tone was steady, without any rise or fall, yet it carried a cold sharpness, brushing past the girl’s face like invisible silver needles.

Reflected in Lang Yue’s light brown eyes was Xie Xisui’s face. The frail girl, barely reaching her shoulders, took half a step back before bowing deeply. “Yes. Even if right and wrong are reversed, Master is still the standard.”

The vast hall was suddenly filled with the echo of her childish voice, striking against the eardrums.

Xie Xisui’s gaze sharpened, and she coldly rebuked, “Absurd! The righteous path is about upholding justice and carrying the heart of the people. It should never be changed by anyone—including me.”

That day, for the first time, Xie Xisui turned away in anger, punishing Lang Yue by making her copy the principles of justice a hundred times outside the hall. She did not see her for three days.

On the fourth night, Lang Yue knelt outside the hall and recited the principles from start to finish. When Xie Xisui asked again, “What is the righteous path?” she finally repeated Xie Xisui’s own words back to her.

Later, when Xie Xisui reviewed her writings, the crisp paper was covered with neat and meticulous strokes, each page showing signs of being repeatedly studied.

As the years passed, Lang Yue grew into a tall and upright young woman. Her light brown eyes always held a glimmer when she looked at Xie Xisui. She followed behind her in a white robe, grinding ink, lighting candles, draping a cloak over her shoulders, and standing guard when she secluded herself in training.

One snowy night, Xie Xisui woke to find herself facing Lang Yue’s eyes. Her fingertips lightly touched the edges of the cloak, pulling it around Xie Xisui’s shoulders. The candlelight flickered, drawing them closer, revealing the turbulence in her gaze.

Her sleepy eyes were hazy, making Xie Xisui momentarily forget the calm and composed girl she usually was during the day.

“Master, you’re awake.”

For just a second, fleeting emotions surfaced before Lang Yue quickly hid them. She stepped back and bowed respectfully. Thanks to her white robe, the faint blush on her ears was still visible.

Xie Xisui returned to the present. Outside, lightning streaked across the sky, and her lone silhouette swayed slightly in the candlelight.

Her palm remained open, revealing faint, unfinished strokes on the stone’s surface. The characters were her own, their presence familiar, yet the sense of belonging they carried seemed to have passed from the stone to the one who had given it to her.

“Master, I will return to Chuanze Stream as soon as possible.”

The voice carried through the sword energy, slightly hoarse, as if suppressing emotions. Xie Xisui stroked the silver stone with her fingertip and lifted it slightly.

A surge of warmth rushed through her meridians, gathering in her heart. It felt like a feather brushing against her soul, stirring countless emotions all at once.

She missed her. She could not suppress the desire to see her soon.

After a long pause, Xie Xisui’s voice finally came through.

“Alright.”

Though it was just a single word, without even seeing her, Lingxi could hear a trace of a smile in her master’s tone—as if Xie Xisui were standing right in front of her, her dark eyes locking onto hers, making it impossible to look away, her lips curving ever so slightly.

Her heart swelled, filling to the brim, beating louder and stronger.

But a sudden knock on the door pulled her back.

“Are you there? How is your injury?”

“You haven’t fainted, have you? Do you need me to come in and check on you?”

“Hey, answer me! If you don’t, I’m coming in!”

A playful, flirtatious voice, followed by the creak of a door being pushed open, made Lingxi’s face turn cold.

Water dripped from her body. She reached for the robe hanging nearby, swiftly wrapping it over her damp clothes.

“Master, I need to deal with her first.”

“Mm.”

Lingxi opened the door, the rich scent of rouge and powder immediately assaulting her senses…

“Are your injuries okay?”

As soon as she saw Ling Xi, she reached out, as if trying to touch Ling Xi’s arm that was holding the door. But when Ling Xi silently avoided her, the smile on her face grew even wider.

“What are you doing here?”

Ling Xi stood at the door without moving. Her arms blocked the way, clearly showing she had no intention of letting her in.

Ruan Xuan didn’t get upset. She let out a quiet laugh. “Look at how you talk. I’m your big sister—what else could I be here for, if not to check on you?”

She tilted her head and glanced at Ling Xi’s outer robe, noticing the wet spots. Suddenly, she leaned in close.

“You were bathing? You should have told me. No need to rush out to meet me like this—your clothes are all wet.”

A cold glint appeared in Ling Xi’s eyes. From the sword sheath behind her, a few sword hums sounded, as if warning her.

“Alright, I’ll get to the point,” Ruan Xuan straightened up, the smile still hanging on her lips. “Since you look mostly fine now, tomorrow night I, your storyteller sister, will be performing a shadow puppet show. I’m inviting you to come watch. It’s my first time doing one—I’m still not very good.”

“If the show turns out bad and someone throws things at me, it’ll be so embarrassing. You being there would help me keep watch. I’ll even give you a free ticket.”

Ling Xi’s eyes lowered slightly. She raised her hand to close the door. “Not interested.”

But Ruan Xuan quickly reached out and blocked it. In a blink, she held a long red ticket between her index and middle fingers, waving it in front of Ling Xi’s face. “At least look at the ticket before you answer. Think about it.”

Ling Xi frowned. The words of refusal were on her lips, but before she could say anything, Ruan Xuan’s figure flashed—and she was gone.

A cool breeze blew from the distance, carrying the long-lasting scent of rouge. It lifted the red ticket, keeping it from falling.

Ling Xi glanced at it. With a flick of her hand, her sword flew from its sheath. The sharp blade aimed straight at the center of the ticket. The sword’s energy pushed the wind aside, pinning the ticket toward the table.

But just as it was about to hit, Ling Xi caught sight of wild, flowing handwriting on the back of the ticket.

The ticket suddenly changed direction. Ling Xi withdrew her sword and reached out to catch it.

The red ticket seemed prepared for her to look at it. On the front was a colorful shadow puppet figure of a woman, smiling cheerfully at her.

The next moment, Ling Xi heard Xie Xisui’s calm voice inside the sword’s intent:

“Do you want to go?”