As dusk deepened, Qin Zhong trudged back to the Flower-Adorned Pavilion with heavy steps. The interior lay desolate; the faint moon trace had long departed, leaving only Qiu Rong standing alone before the immense Black Dragon Illusion Mirror, deep in thought.
The Black Dragon Illusion Mirror was in truth a massive, jet-black stele polished smooth as a mirror. Though its surface was dark, it clearly reflected human figures, standing coldly in the center of the Flower Beauty Pavilion. For centuries, this had been the Smoky Palace's instrument for punishing disciples guilty of grave offenses. Once a soul was imprisoned within the mirror, it endured relentless torment—day after day, seared by blazing flames, night after night, gnawed by bone-chilling ice. The agony knew no end. A decade of such suffering was sufficient to utterly consume even the most formidable soul, making it one of the most brutal punishments in the Daoist arts.
Yun Zhongyu had been personally cast into the mirror by Dan Yuehen, who had further reinforced the confinement with a Soul-Binding Talisman. His physical form destroyed and his magical power greatly diminished, breaking free from the mirror without external aid was utterly impossible. To Qin Zhong, Dan Yuehen's concern seemed entirely unnecessary.
Suppressing the dull ache in his body and the turmoil within his heart, Qin Zhong bowed slightly, his voice carrying a barely perceptible hoarseness: "Young Master Qiu."
The symbolic ring on Qiu Rong's finger had returned, confirming his earlier actions were merely a charade. Having drifted through life since youth and witnessed humanity's myriad facets, Qin Zhong regarded Qiu Rong's capriciousness as childish mischief. His expression remained serene and unruffled as he maintained his respectful posture, standing by.
Qiu Rong's gaze was fixed on the Mystic Dragon Orb at the top of the Illusion Mirror, his eyes a mix of longing and restlessness. "Qin Zhong," he suddenly spoke, his voice carrying a hint of seduction, "could you help me remove that Mystic Dragon Orb from up there?"
"The Palace Master has decreed that if the Mystic Dragon Orb is removed, it may cause unforeseen calamities. Yun Zhongyu might face the peril of shattering the mirror, leading to endless troubles." " Qin Zhong replied, lowering his eyes. If the divine soul were freed, Yun Zhongyu could possess another body and be reborn, restoring his magical power. When that time came, he would certainly not spare Qiu Rong. This youth truly possessed qualities maddening enough to captivate even someone like Dan Yuehen.
Thinking of this, Qin Zhong found himself involuntarily gazing at Qiu Rong's exquisitely beautiful profile, his mind momentarily dazed. Wasn't his own hopeless infatuation also a form of calamity?
Qiu Rong had long grown accustomed to all manner of gazes. She paid no mind to Qin Zhong's distraction, instead furrowing her beautiful brows at his refusal: "The Palace Master ordered you to attend to me precisely so you would obey my commands. What is it? Am I not even permitted to ask you to retrieve a bead for me to play with? I'll look at it and put it back—what harm could that possibly do?"
"Please forgive me... I am powerless to do so." Qin Zhong's reply remained respectful, yet carried an unwavering resolve.
No matter how Qiu Rong alternated between coaxing and scolding, even lashing out in frustration and calling him an "ugly monster," Qin Zhong remained as still as a deep well, utterly unruffled, repeating only those words: "I am powerless." Even the long-serving maidservant in the chamber couldn't help but secretly admire the man's composure. After all, when Qiu Rong cursed, every word cut to the bone—few could endure it.
The day finally dragged to an end. Qin Zhong returned to his quarters, hastily dealt with miscellaneous tasks, bathed, and changed clothes, attempting to wash away the weariness and lingering traces of last night's intimacy. Just as he prepared to rest, the door slid open silently.
Dan Yuehen entered his room without knocking. Qin Zhong stiffened instantly, a bitter taste rising in his heart. Was even these final three days of peace too much to hope for?
"Young Master Qiu... Is your health well?" " Qin Zhong slowly rose from the bedside, gazing at Dan Yuehen's expressionless face, searching for a plausible excuse to ward off what was about to unfold.
Dan Yuehen's purple robe flowed to the floor like a solitary flower blooming in the night mist. He approached, his brow furrowing slightly at the question: "If he isn't ill, does that mean I cannot come to see you?"
The words struck like a pebble tossed into a still pond, sending faint ripples across Qin Zhong's frozen heart. Could it mean that in Dan Yuehen's eyes, he wasn't merely a substitute for Qiu Rong? The thought flared and was immediately stifled. Shamed by his own delusions, Qin Zhong's lips twisted into a bitter curve.
"Yuehen... don't do this. If Qiu Rong finds out, it won't end well." He pleaded softly. Though he harbored little affection for Qiu Rong, he still wished Dan Yuehen could fulfill his heart's desire and stay with the one he loved forever. As long as he was happy, his own fate mattered little.
"Since when did you get to dictate my affairs?" Dan Yuehen's tone turned icy. His slender eyebrows arched, a flicker of impatience crossing his devilishly handsome face. With swift, decisive movements, he tore apart their garments, his scorching palm landing directly on Qin Zhong's already aroused lower body.
Dan Yuehen knew this body craved him, allowing him to thrust deep with ease, savoring the thrill of conquest and possession without facing the unpleasant struggle and cries. Over the years, only Qin Zhong had fit his complex, hidden needs so perfectly.
The sudden penetration caught Qin Zhong off guard. Only when that familiar, searing pain ripped through his body again did he fully awaken. He instinctively struggled, only to be pressed down harder by Dan Yuehen. Unlike the endurance of days past, the subtle flow of Prajna Flower poison coursing through him today made this penetration unbearable. He writhed painfully on the brocade bedding, emitting suppressed, fragmented moans.
Qin Zhong's expression of extraordinary agony caused Dan Yuehen's movements to slow. "What's wrong?" His voice still held little warmth, yet carried a hint of inquiry.
The image of Qin Zhong yesterday by Huqi Lake—clothes soaked through, fragile and pale—had inexplicably etched itself into his mind, even distracting him from his focus on Qiu Rong. Now, Qin Zhong's resistance only intensified the unpleasant memory of seeing Yun Ruo in Qin Zhong's chambers earlier. A nameless rage ignited within him, scorching his reason and driving his actions ever more brutal. It seemed only through such force could he assert some kind of ownership.
Qin Zhong felt warm liquid seeping from his lower body and knew he was injured. Closing his eyes, he shook his head, his voice barely audible: "It's nothing..." Since refusal was impossible, he would endure it. After all, this was the last time. He repeated this to himself silently, as if chanting a mantra for release.
Dan Yuehen stared at Qin Zhong's tightly closed eyes, his long lashes trembling slightly as he endured the pain. He felt an overwhelming, breathtaking temptation. Impulsively, he leaned forward. Just as his lips were about to touch Qin Zhong's cheek, he jolted awake! What was he doing? His love belonged to Qiu Rong! Why did he feel pity for this bland, unremarkable man?
It must be habit, an illusion! He absolutely could not indulge in this!
Forcibly suppressing the strange emotions churning within him, Dan Yuehen swiftly withdrew, straightening his clothes as if he'd been tainted by something unclean. Without a backward glance, he departed resolutely.
Only after the footsteps faded beyond the corridor did Qin Zhong slowly open his eyes, gazing futilely at the now-empty doorway. Had he not endured this in darkness each time, had he not narrowly avoided fainting this moment, how could he have seized the chance to gaze so greedily at that departing figure? Only from behind could he dare reveal the profound, unspeakable obsession hidden deep within his eyes.
Qin Zhong's lips twitched, revealing a smile uglier than tears.
Dawn broke, heralding a new day. Qin Zhong struggled to sit up, every inch of his body aching. Bruises and stains told the tale of last night's frenzy. He fetched water and slowly, laboriously, wiped himself clean. He slipped into a high-collared undershirt, attempting to conceal the bruises around his neck. When he gazed into the mirror, the reflection stared back at him: a pallid face, sunken eyes, and a pair of orbs brimming with endless exhaustion and sorrow.
Arriving at the Flower Brocade Pavilion, Qiu Rong was still wrestling with the Xuanlong Pearl. Spotting Qin Zhong, his eyebrows shot upward in fury. "You came to laugh at my humiliation?"
Qin Zhong bowed deeply. "Not at all, Young Master Qiu."
"Not dare? Then you're laughing inside?" Qiu Rong's tone turned harsh. Without another word, he raised his hand and slapped Qin Zhong across the face!
Caught off guard, Qin Zhong felt a searing sting on his cheek. What alarmed him even more was that the poison of the Prajna Flower seemed to be accelerating its erosion of his magical power, leaving him unable to dodge even this ordinary blow!
Seeing his stunned expression, Qiu Rong grew even more triumphant. Suddenly recalling Qin Zhong's humiliating state by Huqi Lake, a cunning plan formed in her mind. With a sly smile, she reached out to tug at Qin Zhong's collar, intent on reenacting yesterday's scene.
"Young Master Qiu! Control yourself!" Qin Zhong paled in horror. How could the marks beneath his clothes be exposed? Clutching his collar desperately, his face flushed crimson as he wrestled with Qiu Rong, tumbling awkwardly across the ground.
The poison churning violently within him sapped his strength, leaving him momentarily unable to shake off Qiu Rong's antics.
"What are you doing?!" A bone-chilling voice erupted suddenly, like ice shattering on the ground.
Both men jolted, turning toward the sound. There stood Dan Yuehen, clad in purple robes, his expression as still as water, yet his eyes churned with a terrifying storm. Disciples within the chamber instantly knelt en masse, chanting in unison, "Palace Master!"
Dan Yuehen advanced step by step, his gaze fixed intently on the entangled pair on the floor, knuckles turning white from the force of his grip. After parting with Qin Zhong last night, his mind had been restless, sleepless all night, filled only with Qin Zhong's image. He had come here to confirm his feelings for Qiu Rong, to dispel the "confusion" Qin Zhong had brought, yet he had unexpectedly stumbled upon such an unsightly scene!
"No, Palace Master, it's just... a misunderstanding..." Qin Zhong scrambled to explain, but Qiu Rong's expression shifted instantly. She threw herself at Dan Yuehen, her voice thick with hurt, "Yuehen! Why did you take so long? He... he bullied me!"
Qin Zhong felt as if struck by lightning. "No! Young Master Qiu, how could you..."
"How could I what?" Qiu Rong cut him off, glancing at Dan Yuehen's darkening expression before fixing Qin Zhong with a meaningful look. Lowering her voice to a whisper audible only to them, she sneered, "A toad trying to eat swan meat..."
The words struck like a poisoned dagger, piercing precisely into the deepest wound in Qin Zhong's heart. His body convulsed violently. He looked at Qiu Rong, then at Dan Yuehen, instantly grasping her implication. His petty desires had long been seen through by this youth.
With all hope shattered, he abandoned any defense. He merely stared silently at Dan Yuehen, the last flicker of light in his eyes gradually extinguishing. Perhaps ending it this way was for the best.
Seeing Qin Zhong's tacit admission and hearing the words "a toad wanting to eat swan meat," Dan Yuehen assumed he harbored lustful thoughts toward Qiu Rong. A torrent of rage, mingled with an indescribable jealousy, instantly overwhelmed his reason. He lashed out with a fierce palm strike, carrying a piercing gust of wind, slamming heavily into Qin Zhong's chest!
"Pfft—" Qin Zhong flew backward like a kite with a broken string, his back slamming hard against the cold Xuanlong Mirror. Agonizing pain ripped through his insides as the poison was fully activated. He couldn't suppress the gush of blood that spurted forth, staining his front and the floor crimson.
Seeing him spit blood, Dan Yuehen felt an inexplicable tightening in her heart. Just as she moved to approach, her attention was drawn to an anomaly within the phantom mirror—
Ripples spread across the mirror's surface from the impact and magical fluctuations. Within, Yun Zhongyu, who should have been suffering in the torment of ice and fire, was struggling fiercely against his chains! He sensed the disturbance outside, lifted his face, and flashed an eerie, icy smile at the three figures beyond the mirror.
Dan Yuehen knew something was amiss—someone must be secretly aiding Yun Zhongyu. The sound of chains snapping echoed incessantly within the mirror. With a mighty roar, Yun Zhongyu thrust a phantom claw through the glass, reaching straight for Qin Zhong, who leaned against the mirror's edge!
Before Dan Yuehen could fully process it, his body acted before his mind. He yanked Qin Zhong aside with one arm while parrying Yun Zhongyu's attack with the other.
Yun Zhongyu let out a maniacal laugh, feinting east while striking west. His spirit essence transformed into a streak of green light, darting toward Qiu Rong beside him! His true target, from the very beginning, had always been this flesh he once craved and now despised.
Though gravely wounded and near death, Qin Zhong saw Yun Zhongyu lunging at Qiu Rong. Summoning his last ounce of strength, he struggled forward, throwing his body in front of her.
"Thud!" The green light struck Qin Zhongyu's chest. He could no longer hold on, collapsing limply. Blood gushed from his mouth like a burst dam as his life force rapidly drained away.
Seeing his possession of Qiu Rong impossible and Qin Zhong's life extinguished, Yun Zhongyu transformed into a streak of light without hesitation, fleeing the Huaqi Pavilion and vanishing without a trace.
Dan Yuehen steeled her resolve, refusing to look at Qin Zhong lying in a pool of blood on the ground. She hurried to Qiu Rong, who was still shaken, and asked softly, "Rongrong, are you all right?"
Still shaken, Qiu Rong was more distressed by the magical power lost within the Xuanlong Pearl. She pouted, "Yuehen, let's leave this place quickly. I'm scared."
Dan Yuehen hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering over the barely breathing Qin Zhong. He forced himself to believe that Qin Zhong's cultivation was formidable and he should be fine. He couldn't afford to be soft-hearted now, couldn't let himself be "bewitched" again. He wrapped his arm around Qiu Rong and said gently, "Alright, let's go to my place. It's not safe here."
"Yuehen..." A voice faint as a whisper, like a call from the underworld, halted Dan Yuehen's steps. Qin Zhong mustered his last ounce of strength, gazing at that purple silhouette. His eyes held the final, humble longing of his life: "Did you... ever... even for a moment... loved me..."
In countless dark nights, he had stubbornly searched for a trace of tenderness within that brutal possession, clinging to it to sustain his long, hopeless infatuation. Now, he sought only an answer—even a lie would grant his desolate life a fleeting illusion of closure.
Dan Yuehen halted and turned back. Before his eyes lay Qin Zhong's blood-stained face, pale as paper, and eyes that now burned with an unusual brightness, filled with a final glimmer of hope. That gaze—pure and utterly desperate—sent a violent tremor through Dan Yuehen's heart.
Yet Qiu Rong tugged at his sleeve beside him, urging departure. Qin Zhong's current state was too pitiful and jarring to behold. The complex emotions he hadn't even sorted out himself were now overwhelmed by his "responsibility" to Qiu Rong and his own refusal to acknowledge his "confusion." He opened his mouth, but in the end, said nothing. Resolutely turning away, he left hand-in-hand with Qiu Rong.
The last glimmer of light shattered completely in Qin Zhong's eyes. He smiled, more blood spilling from the corners of his mouth, staining his pale fingers crimson. So this long pursuit, this fervent devotion, had been nothing but a solitary monologue all along. He had been too stingy even to offer a perfunctory lie.
Very well. This is for the best.
Watching the violet silhouette grow distant, his smile grew more ethereal. With his last ounce of strength, he murmured softly, words that felt like a curse yet also a blessing: I would trade my soul's dissolution... for your eternal peace... only to pray... we never meet again..."
His eyelids fell heavy, his breath ceased, his heartbeat fell silent. The guards around him exchanged bewildered glances. One cautiously stepped forward to check his breath, then fell into panic.
Duan Yuehen faintly heard a faint sound behind him, indistinct and unclear. That sound was like a tiny thorn, piercing his heart, causing a dull ache that he deliberately ignored.
News of Qin Zhong's death quickly spread among the disciples. Some suggested reporting it immediately to the Palace Master, but they were stopped by Pei Si, the envoy from the Black澤 Hall: " The Palace Master's stance was clear earlier. She is currently with Young Master Qiu. How dare we disturb them? Leave the funeral arrangements to our Black Hall." His gaze swept over Qin Zhong's corpse, a fleeting, imperceptible gleam of darkness flickering in his eyes.
A disciple from the Blazing Fire Hall sneered in response: "Black Hall excels not only at handling aftermaths, but also at digging graves and prying into secrets, eh?"
As tensions between the two factions reached a boiling point, a cool, detached voice cut through the chaos: "The man is dead. Must you still bicker, disturbing the repose of the departed?"
All eyes turned to see Yun Ruo, who had entered unnoticed. Ignoring the crowd, he walked slowly to Qin Zhong's side, knelt down, and gently lifted the still-warm body.
With a handkerchief, he meticulously wiped the blood from Qin Zhong's face, revealing a handsome yet weary and sorrowful countenance. Yun Ruo sighed softly and murmured, "Foolish child. Even now, you still refuse to let go?"
He lifted his head, his gaze calmly sweeping over the crowd. "Disperse. For him, his soul scattered to the winds is perhaps a form of liberation."
Overwhelmed by his imposing presence, the crowd instinctively parted to make way. Yun Ruo, cradling Qin Zhong, walked with steady steps, disappearing into the deepening twilight of Huaqi Pavilion. Only the dark crimson pool of blood on the ground silently bore witness to the tragedy that had just unfolded.