The White Moonlight Disdained by the Male Protagonist of Redemption - Chapter 6.2

At the start of his sentence, Ning Yao had already lost patience. “First what? Don’t act like you’re the victims here. Yu Songting broke his ‘Heartless Dao’ on his own. Did my sister hold a sword to his neck and force him? If his Dao shattered so easily, then his cultivation was weak! Is that our fault?”

To be honest, Yu Songting had fallen in love in the blink of an eye. His so-called “Heartless Dao” shattered too easily—it felt like a scam, and she was still holding onto frustration about it.

The middle-aged man almost cried. “Our Sect Leader was extraordinary and on the verge of ascension…”

Ning Yao clapped her hands. “Save your sob story. Here’s the deal—my elder sister is missing, and I’m still waiting for Fengsong Immortal Sect to give me an explanation. I only held back because Yu Songting is no longer affiliated with your sect.”

The man hesitated. “So, Yu Songting is really not recovering at Luo Xiang Mountain?”

“If he were, I would’ve thrown him out already.”

Seeing Ning Yao’s attitude, the man actually believed her. But her hostility was so obvious that he became nervous. “Mountain Master Ning… you didn’t kill our Sect Leader, did you?”

Ning Yao smirked. “Elder Hu, I don’t like people throwing dirt on my name. So let me make this clear—if you keep irritating me, when I find him, I just might kill him.”

The man instantly panicked. “You must not!”

Ning Yao gestured toward the door. “Then leave.”

The man was at a loss for words. Finally, he turned and walked out, disappointed.

Behind the side door was Feng Jingzhuo, leaning lightly against the wall.

She had said—she didn’t like people throwing dirt on her name.

Feng Jingzhuo closed his eyes tightly. Then, decisively, he stepped forward.

Feng Jingzhuo said, “If you don’t kill me today, I’ll become a stain on your name in the future.”

Ning Yao replied, “How could you be a stain on my name? If I killed people on an impulse, that would be a stain.”

He finally looked at her. She squatted there, hugging her knees, slightly shorter than him. Her bright eyes reflected his image like a mirror.

After one glance, he lowered his head again.

Seeing his silence, Ning Yao pressed on, “You still haven’t answered me—why do you want me to kill you? ”

Feng Jingzhuo remained quiet for a long moment before finally saying, “Because I am despicable and selfish. If I could die at this moment, I would feel happy.”

Ning Yao didn’t understand. She asked again, but Feng Jingzhuo refused to say anything more.

Since he wasn’t willing to talk, she couldn’t force him. The strategies her older sister had taught her never covered such a complicated situation. Ning Yao realized she had encountered a difficult person. Feng Jingzhuo wasn’t willing to open his heart to her, and if he couldn’t even do that, it would be difficult for her to become his wife.

After thinking it over, she decided to open the first secret message her sister had left behind.

Her sister’s note read: If you encounter a truly difficult and complicated situation, remember—sincerity moves hearts.

That day, Ning Yao went to find Feng Jingzhuo She brought over a chair and sat in front of him. She then got straight to the point: “Feng Jingzhuo, let’s play a game.”

Upon hearing this, Feng Jingzhuo froze momentarily before swiftly composing himself.

So, this was it, her true motive.

He straightened his posture, quietly bracing himself for the figurative blow to strike.

But Ning Yao took out a stack of paper and a pen, placing them in front of him. “I noticed you don’t like talking about what’s in your heart. Maybe you still have concerns. If you really don’t want to say it, why not write it down instead?”

“You don’t have to write too much—it’s not an essay. Here’s how it works: I’ll write you a question. You can choose to write an answer or not. Then, you can also write a question for me. One question per day. What do you think? Just like passing notes.”

This wasn’t what he had expected. Feng Jingzhuo was momentarily confused, but he nodded lightly.

On the first day, he received Ning Yao’s note. When he unfolded it, it read:

Do you like apples or peaches?

Feng Jingzhuo was stunned.

He had spent the night anticipating what the first question might be, worrying about how to answer it, or whether he should answer at all. But this… this was entirely unexpected.

He picked up the pen and wrote:

Either is fine.

When he placed the note on the window ledge in the outer room, he thought he could already guess the next day’s question.

Sure enough, the second note asked:

If you had to choose one?

He answered honestly:

Peaches.

With that, the topic was settled. The introduction was over but he didn’t know what she would ask next.

That night, he once again found himself unable to sleep, waiting for the next note.

When he received it the next day, there was a ripe peach placed beside it. He held the peach for a long time before quietly opening the note.

Peaches or oranges?

Feng Jingzhuo dropped his hand, unaware that his seldom-smiling lips had softly curled into a faint expression of amusement.

After several rounds of fruit-related questions, she moved on to other topics. Some were trivial, others more complex, like:

“Would you rather watch the stars with a friend, or enjoy the moonlight alone?”

“Do you have any money-saving tips?”

He gradually started taking these notes to heart. No matter how big or small, mundane or whimsical, he always answered seriously.

Then one day, Feng Jingzhuo opened a note and saw her familiar, carefree handwriting:

“I’m actually a really kind person, don’t you think?”

Yes. He could never have imagined that someone as kind as her existed in this world. He already knew what her next question would be, but this time, he no longer felt anxious.

He wrote back:

Yes.

As expected, the next day’s note read:

“Why did you want me to kill you before?”

Below that, she had circled a sentence and drawn a big, eye-catching star next to it:

“I definitely won’t do it.”

Feng Jingzhuo held his pen for a long time before slowly writing his answer:

“I was afraid.”

When this note was passed back, the next one asked:

“Afraid of what?”

That night, as the mountain rain fell, Feng Jingzhuo sat by his bed, staring at the misty drizzle outside.

***

On the first day, Ning Yao received no response.

On the second day, still nothing.

On the third day, she finally saw a small note left in its usual spot. Excitement and nervousness bubbled up inside her.

She opened it, and his bold, calligraphic handwriting came into view:

“I could have endured the cold forever, but then I was warmed once.”