Forced to Love (GL) - Chapter 62

Returning to the Outer Heavens once more, Lingxi felt a moment of hesitation as she stepped forward.

Every time she came back before, it was always to place fragments of the deity’s soul into the waters of the Reincarnation Pool.

The moment she willed it; she would find herself standing at the pool’s edge.

She always arrived swiftly but lingered long before leaving.

Thinking back, she realized she hadn’t been pondering much; she had simply stood there, staring at the fragments, where the deity’s shadow flickered like a reflection in water or a mirage in glass.

Faintly shimmering, swaying with a soft light—it felt as though, as long as she kept looking, she had never truly lost her.

The fragments in her palm glowed as she released them, their warmth fading as they drifted away.

But this time, she had no fragments.

She did not appear at the Reincarnation Pool in an instant. Instead, she chose to land at the very bottom of the distant stone steps.

The staircase stretched endlessly beyond her sight, winding upward toward the Reincarnation Pool.

So far apart—one in the heavens, the other on the earth.

Lingxi gazed upward for a long while. Though she could see nothing, she couldn’t look away.

She stepped forward along the stone steps without pause. Mist curled at her feet, dissipating with each step she took.

Step by step, she ascended. The sound of the wind whispered in her ears, and the maple leaves flanking the stairs danced in the air, their vibrant red ablaze with fervor.

One by one, the leaves swayed in the wind before slowly falling.

As a leaf brushed past her fingertips, Lingxi found herself momentarily transported to that evening beneath the twilight sky.

The sunset painted the heavens, bathing the land in golden light.

The deity adjusted the sundial, stepping into a world in flux.

Strands of drifting souls intertwined, barely able to withstand the dimming glow as they threatened to disperse.

They let out faint murmurs, carried by the wind, yearning to convey their lingering emotions.

The longing of lovers, the reluctance of parents to part with their children, the aching attachment to a cherished one left behind.

As the last light of dusk faded, countless emotions surrounded her.

The deity stood beneath the maple tree for a long time, gazing up at the striking red leaves.

Through the slender gaps of her jade flute, Lingxi watched her.

She watched the dappling light filter through the maple leaves onto her face, watched as she reached out to catch a falling leaf, watched the soft shadows of her eyelashes fall against its veins.

She said nothing, merely holding the leaf as she played the flute.

The melody surged like the dazzling maple leaves, then softened, as though offering comfort, as though bidding them farewell.

The twilight finally disappeared. The last ray of light slipped away, and the wailing wind fell silent.

No more voices. No more cries. Nothing remained.

The soaring flute melody plummeted abruptly, plunging into an abyss.

What Lingxi saw was still the same solitary figure standing in the darkness, walking against the light.

Lingxi continued climbing the steep stone steps, drawing closer to the faint glow of the Reincarnation Pool ahead.

Suddenly, the wind howled, and the surroundings darkened into a haze. The cliffs she had seen just moments ago were now obscured, leaving only the distant light.

She stepped onto a floating stone before the cliff’s edge. Beneath her, the abyss stretched infinitely deep, yet her thoughts lingered on the lone figure beneath the maple tree that day.

As the last light of dusk faded, so too did her traces vanish completely.

So many souls, bound together by invisible threads, each one leaving behind traces of longing and attachment.

But she alone had escaped the confines of time and space, as if forgotten.

One by one, the floating stones continued upward, forming a stairway in the sky. Midway, the darkness remained unbroken, stripping away even warmth.

Like the freezing rain of winter, the mere presence of its mist seeped into the bones.

Before, Lingxi could only watch her, discerning her emotions through the changes in her flute’s melody.

But more than that, Lingxi felt she was like a wisp of smoke—silent, colorless, emotionless, drifting beyond reach.

As she searched for her soul, she gradually discovered more of her.

As a child, she longed for sweets, smiling at the taste of sugar, frowning at bitterness.

Even as she grew, responsibility remained ingrained in her very soul, shining brightly.

Whether teaching students, holding a high position as a princess, or remaining devoted to her people, her steadfast resolve never wavered.

Lingxi even recalled the lessons she had taught her about righteousness.

All of this added color and fragrance to that once-faint wisp of smoke.

“What are you thinking about?”

Unknowingly, Lingxi had nearly reached the end of the staircase.

A soft shadow fell over her.

Hearing the voice, Lingxi looked up. Wrapped in the familiar ink-black robes, she stood before her.

In that instant, Lingxi felt like a weary traveler finally finding home.

The soul had gathered. She had returned.

Her light-colored robes fluttered gently in the wind as she lowered her gaze to meet Lingxi’s.

Lingxi looked at her, eyes full of tenderness. “I was thinking about you.”

She gazed into Lingxi’s eyes and smiled. “So, you purposely chose the farthest steps because you were thinking about me?”

Lingxi nodded, then turned slightly to look back at the path she had taken.

The dissipated mist gradually cleared, revealing the road she had walked.

Lingxi stretched out her hand, pointing to the distant starting point. “From over there,” she then looked down at the step beneath her feet, “to here, I’ve been thinking about you.”

Following Lingxi’s gaze, she slowly looked back, finally resting her eyes on Lingxi’s. “That’s not enough.”

Lingxi chuckled and nodded earnestly. “I think about you when I see you. I think about you when I don’t.”

She stepped forward. “From the Three Thousand Worlds to the future, I will always think about you.”

A soft laugh escaped her lips as she reached out her hand. “With every step closer, do you think of me more?”

Lingxi placed her slightly cool palm against hers. Warmth seeped into her skin.

Lingxi’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Yes. And I’ve thought about many things.”

She didn’t respond, only tracing Lingxi’s fingers, encouraging her to continue.

“It’s like a pilgrimage. I climbed up from the cliffs, guided by my devotion.”

“I thought I was making this journey alone—enduring the hardship alone, fleetingly savoring the sweetness.” Lingxi paused, then looked up at her, lips curling into a soft smile, eyes bright. “But then, I realized—I received a response.”

At that moment, a gentle force pulled Lingxi up.

Now, they stood together at the same height.

The instant she fell into her embrace, Lingxi held her tightly.

In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to hold her, and never let go.

“You know pain, and you know sweetness. You know everything.”

She softly laughed by Ling Xi’s ear. “Yes, I know everything.”

Her warm fingertips gently brushed up and down Ling Xi’s back, soothing her. After a while, she sighed softly. “I’m sorry. I made you wait too long.”

Ling Xi shook her head. She couldn’t see her expression—just hearing her voice already made her choke up.

She continued, “Do you know why there’s always the word ‘Sui’ in every one of my names in each lifetime?”

Ling Xi thought for a moment, then slowly said, “In the first small world, when I met you, you were still a child. To protect you, I adopted you.”

“At that time, I was thinking of what name to give you. In the end, I used the word ‘Sui’.”

She smiled and kissed Ling Xi’s neck. “Mm, and what did it mean?”

Ling Xi felt the warmth of her lips on her skin. Her back stiffened slightly. “Because ‘Sui’ carries the meaning of time. I also hoped you could live peacefully year after year.”

The heat traced along her neck, her breath warm and misty, dyeing the air with a soft blush.

“That’s a beautiful meaning,” she said after a pause. “So my feelings for you made me remember that word. My spiritual energy affected the names I had in later worlds.”

After a while, Ling Xi gave a soft sound. “So… you really like that word too?”

“Mm.”

Ling Xi laughed, her shoulders shaking slightly.

“Sui, then can I call you that from now on?”

“What do you think?”

Sui let out a small laugh. The fingers resting behind Ling Xi gently twisted the ends of her slightly curled hair.

“But in the first world, you rejected me,” she said.

Ling Xi was stunned. She looked toward the distant Reincarnation Pool and sighed. “Back then, I didn’t understand what love was. But now that I think about it, I already liked you a long time ago.”

Her heart had always been filled with thoughts of her. Her eyes only saw her. Her joys and sorrows followed hers. Her whole heart belonged to her. If that wasn’t love, then what was?

“I didn’t even dare to admit it. I just struggled silently with myself in the mirror,” she added.

Ling Xi was caught off guard but still laughed. “At that time, I didn’t know you were the one whose heart was connected with mine.”

“If you had told me earlier…”

Her voice stopped abruptly. After a few breaths, she lifted her head slightly from Sui’s embrace and looked into her deep black eyes.

“Don’t tell me… you already knew?”

Sui looked at her with a smile. The hand resting on her shoulder gently flicked her earlobe.

“Our hearts are connected. It’s not just that I have you in my heart. We also share feelings. We can sense each other.”

Ling Xi tilted her head, confused. “Then how come I didn’t…”

Sui looked a little helpless. Her warm fingertip touched Ling Xi’s earlobe, and in an instant, Ling Xi’s vision changed.

She saw the past—soft flute music drifting into her newly awakened consciousness. Ling Xi softly echoed Sui’s song. Sui was about to turn back and look at her, but Ling Xi suddenly stopped.

So, Sui, halfway through turning, stopped as well. She didn’t turn around.

The hazy glow outlined Sui’s figure, and it never faded again.

As the illusion dissolved and they returned to the present, Ling Xi looked at her, speechless.

Sui gave a light laugh. “You didn’t even dare to look straight at me. How could you notice the change?”

After a long silence, Ling Xi leaned over and hugged her, burying her head into her neck. Her voice was hoarse and bitter. “I like you. I really, really like you.”

Warm breath fell onto her skin, a little damp. Sui gently patted the back of Ling Xi’s head. “You used to be so quiet, always keeping everything to yourself.”

“But now, you cry because of me. You laugh because of me. You say you miss me, like me, worry about me.”

“That’s really wonderful.”

Ling Xi mumbled, “Because I learned to be honest from you.”

Sui answered softly, her voice like a whisper by Ling Xi’s ear. “Then hand in more lessons.”

“What do you—”

Before Ling Xi could finish, the rest of her words were swallowed down again.

In the blink of an eye, she was pressed beneath the old tree in the courtyard.

Sui kissed her. Her tongue slipped in and easily took away her breath. It was a different kind of kiss this time—urgent, and filled with deep, indescribable longing.

Every time they kissed, it went deeper. Ling Xi’s hands braced against the tree trunk, tightening and loosening again, until Sui gently helped her slide down.

Delicate fingertips traced down from Ling Xi’s jawline, moving along her neck, going even deeper.

Ling Xi pulled aside Sui’s thin robe. Her trembling hand reached out and was immediately met with heat.

Smooth skin melted into her palm and pulled her closer still.

Falling leaves drifted down in front of them, quickly hidden beneath their kisses. As the outer robe was undone, long hair spilled down over her shoulders.

The rise and fall of Ling Xi’s chest followed the rhythm of Sui’s movements—now soft, now intense, now slow, now fast.

Every touch of her fingertips, every lick of her lips, made Ling Xi tremble, like a flame spreading out of control.

The corners of her eyes flushed red. As the heat poured in, Ling Xi held her close and whispered in a hoarse voice, “Sui Sui…”

Sui chuckled softly, gently repeating her name one word at a time, savoring it.

When the tide finally surged, Ling Xi suddenly opened her eyes and looked at her. In broken whispers, she said, “You’re… no longer… alone.”

“That’s right. Now, I have you by my side.”

Her murmurs fell gently by her ear, and they kissed each other once more.

Behind them, the ancient tree with thick branches quietly bloomed. White flowers covered the branches like frost and snow, setting a special scene for the heavenly sky. A breeze passed, and a flurry of white petals floated down.

Time is long. My love for you is deep.