Chapter 234: Letting Go Of Obsession

In such a scene, Wan Xiuzi had every reason to believe that this woman, with a single tremble or surge of emotion, could end his life. Seeing the group of young disciples below frozen in shock, the sharp pain at his neck reminded him of the threat of life slipping away. His face twisted in ferocity, and with a voice both fierce and inwardly timid, he shouted, “Let him go! What are you standing there for? Let him go!”

But though he shouted, he dared not move.

Blood had already stained a patch of his collar red.

The disciples below glanced at Xie Wei, then reluctantly stepped back, their hearts unwilling.

Xie Wei’s hand, hanging at his side, was still dripping blood.

Yet he paid it no mind, only tilting his head to look at her standing above. Gone was the softness of the girl from days past, replaced by a sharp, unveiled edge. It vaguely reminded him of the time she had, in a fit of desperation, smashed his qin. His lips curved slowly, and he actually smiled.

Covered in blood, yet his expression was gentle.

The attackers outside were numerous, surrounding them from all directions, leaving little chance for the Tianjiao sect’s members to escape. They quickly gained the upper hand, controlling the situation.

Jiang Xuening saw Yan Lin and Lu Xian enter from outside.

Soon, a clamor arose.

Jian Shu’s anxious face flashed through the crowd. Several people immediately rushed to check on Xie Wei, but he was still looking at Jiang Xuening, calmly issuing orders to those beside him.

Yet as his words fell, his body swayed faintly, almost imperceptibly.

Then, without warning, he collapsed!

In that instant, it was as if a jade mountain had crumbled.

A cacophony of sharp voices flooded Jiang Xuening’s ears, but they merged into meaningless noise, creating a chaotic buzz in her mind. The scene before her, however, felt paradoxically silent.

The world seemed to collapse with it.

For a brief moment, everything stilled, then erupted into chaos.

People surged like a tide, surrounding Xie Wei.

She stood like a stone on the shore, unmoving, her view of him blocked by the crowd.

Her fingers, tightly gripping the blade, didn’t loosen in the slightest, nor did she release Wan Xiuzi. She remained utterly still. Only when the crowd below hurriedly carried Xie Wei away and someone quickly came to take Wan Xiuzi from her hands did she move.

She looked up and met a pair of worried eyes.

Yan Lin stood before her, his tall figure outlined by the firelight, gazing at her with an unusually silent expression. His eyes swirled with countless unspoken thoughts. After a long pause, he said slowly, “Ningning, falling for someone like him will exhaust you.”

Jiang Xuening only stared at the small pool of blood on the ground.

She seemed not to hear him.

As if in a dream, she thought: *I know. But how could I ever ignore someone like him? How could I dare to forget…*

—

“Ningning…”

Shen Zhiyi had come to play chess with her. Seeing Jiang Xuening staring blankly at a chess piece, lost in thought, a trace of worry crept into her eyes. She softly called her name.

Only then did Jiang Xuening snap back to reality.

Shen Zhiyi had arrived in Runiang Prefecture two days after the incident.

She had meant to travel with Yan Lin and the others, but with troops stationed in Huangzhou, how could they allow a royal princess to know of such matters? They politely declined, arranging her carriage to depart much later.

She arrived only after everything had settled.

Shen Zhiyi had heard about the perilous ordeal Jiang Xuening and Xie Wei had endured.

But she was no longer the naive princess of years past.

Xie Wei might seem noble and refined on the surface, but beneath lay a heart stained dark. Shen Zhiyi feared he was like an abyss, pulling Jiang Xuening down with him.

In the past, Jiang Xuening might have noticed Shen Zhiyi’s hesitant expression. But these past two days, she had been so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she overlooked even the most obvious details.

She even smiled and asked, “Is it my turn?”

Shen Zhiyi looked at her for a long time, her heart filled with a thousand things she wanted to say, even about that matter she had hesitated over for so long. But in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Suppressing the complexity in her eyes, she smiled and said, “Your turn.”

Jiang Xuening played a few moves carelessly.

In the end, Shen Zhiyi won.

With such a muddled approach, even if Shen Zhiyi had wanted to let her win, there was no way to salvage the game. Knowing Jiang Xuening had no heart for chess, Shen Zhiyi chatted with her briefly, urged her to rest, and left.

Jiang Xuening sat in the room but didn’t go to bed.

Two days ago, that sudden assault had naturally crushed this Tianjiao sect branch. All the leaders, including Wan Xiuzi and Lu Tai, were captured and locked in the dungeon.

Xie Ju’an’s injuries were not light.

Physicians like Zhou Qihuang and others had been busy and anxious for quite some time.

Yet Jiang Xuening hadn’t visited him.

It was as if she wanted to take some time to sort herself out completely.

Or perhaps, she was simply afraid.

Only now did she lower her eyes and ask the maid serving nearby, “How is Master Xie doing?”

The maid, originally from the general’s mansion, was of low status and didn’t dare pry. She said, “The doctors were up half the night the day before. He woke up, and it seems he’s fine. They say it’s just external injuries, and he’ll recover with rest.”

External injuries.

Just one hand—indeed, it could only be considered “external injuries.”

Hearing this, Jiang Xuening couldn’t quite discern the tangle of emotions in her heart. She gave up trying to sort them out, stood, and walked out.

It was early afternoon.

Outside the window, the cheerful chirping of orioles filled the air.

The trees cast cool shade, and the sunlight was bright.

Xie Ju’an’s residence was, as always, a secluded courtyard.

On the high stone platform outside, fresh bloodstains had just dried. She didn’t glance at them, passing straight through the courtyard’s edge until she saw the closed door beside a tree of worry-free flowers.

Dao Qin was still in the capital and hadn’t returned.

Now, only Jian Shu and a young boy named Xiao Bao, recently rescued from the Tianjiao sect, attended to Xie Wei.

Their reactions upon seeing her were different.

Xiao Bao’s face was filled with guilt and shame.

A flicker of sadness passed through Jian Shu’s eyes, but when he saw Jiang Xuening, there was also a trace of hope.

From the room came the faint, trembling sound of a qin.

But it lacked its usual fluidity.

Even the notes were slightly off, tinged with a stiff, halting quality.

Jiang Xuening’s heart clenched painfully, and she nearly couldn’t speak. She stood silently for a long while, but no more qin sounds came from the room.

Jian Shu said softly, “The master doesn’t wish to see anyone.”

Jiang Xuening stood outside the door and called inside, “Master, I’d like to come in.”

There was no reply for a long time.

Steeling herself against the turmoil in her heart, she forced a smile, assuming his silence was consent, and pushed open the closed door.

The room was filled with the bitter scent of medicine.

Xie Wei, dressed in a simple white robe, sat cross-legged on an arhat bed by the window. A small table before him held a qin. His wounds had been treated, his left hand bandaged with white silk, though faint traces of scars were still visible on his slender fingers.

The sickly pallor of his face reminded her of the first time they met.

Back then…

Jiang Xuening’s eyes stung, but she quietly walked to his side and sat on the footrest by the arhat bed, smiling as she gazed at him. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

Xie Wei looked at her without answering.

She took his hand to examine it. For a moment, tears nearly spilled from her eyes, but she held them back, teasing him with a hint of mockery. “Everyone says you’re flawless in your calculations, but sometimes, you’re not clever at all. You’re terribly foolish. When I saved you back then, it wasn’t out of kindness. I just didn’t want you to die beside me—I was afraid.”

How could Xie Wei not see through her forced composure?

But he didn’t call her out.

He only lowered his gaze and took her hand. On her slender left wrist, a faint scar remained. His warm fingertips gently pressed against it, still able to feel the trace.

He comforted her calmly, “I was afraid too.”

It was hard to imagine such words coming from Xie Wei.

He, so decisive and ruthless—how could he fear anything?

Jiang Xuening looked at him, her heart aching. She said slowly, “It’s not worth it for me.”

Xie Wei gave a soft laugh. “It’s just a momentary lapse in playing the right notes. It was merely an obsession I couldn’t let go of. Now that I’ve let it go, it’s fine.”

As a child, he was the worst at playing the qin.

Yet he was stubbornly determined. His mother had said there was nothing one couldn’t master—it only required a willing heart. With study and practice, over time, one could excel. So for over twenty years, he never abandoned it, and eventually became a master of the qin.

In his life, he refused to accept “defeat.”

Learning the qin was just one part of that.

Jiang Xuening nearly wept at his light, breezy words. Her emotions surged like clouds, swirling and drifting through the heavens.

But she didn’t dare ask if he could still play.

After a long pause, she said softly, “Xie Ju’an, from now on, I’ll play for you, alright?”

Xie Wei’s fingers brushed her cheek, half-teasingly laughing at her. “Your playing is so awful, and you barely know any pieces…”

Jiang Xuening gazed at him.

Then she slowly straightened, tilted her face, and leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to his thin lips. Her eyes shimmered with a layer of misty tears as she said, “Then you’ll teach me from now on.”

A great teacher produces great students.

If he taught her well, she would surely learn.

And if she didn’t, it would surely be his fault.

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