Blumen pflücken und lächeln

Kapitel 184

However, time flew by, giving me little chance to reflect. As I flew over the very center of the tree mound and slowly approached the boundless valley, I signaled to the three young men behind me to drop gunpowder while still in the air.

A moment later, a rumbling sound came from below the tree mound. The tree trunk was affected by the vibration and shook its leaves frantically, making a loud rustling sound. From a distance, it really sounded like an army infiltrating the forest.

As more and more gunpowder was thrown, the bushes leading from the center of the tree mound to the boundless valley began to shake more and more violently. A moment later, I finally saw a considerable commotion on the southeast side of the tree mound, and the disturbance was spreading towards the center of the tree mound at an extremely rapid pace.

I smiled brightly. Yang Qian had indeed taken the bait easily. A person may be able to learn to be calm, but it is difficult to change his suspicious and proud nature within a few years, especially a general like Yang Qian who is used to being arrogant and killing.

The mission was basically complete, and I believed Soku and the others were already preparing to depart. I turned around and gestured to the three young men, indicating that they should begin to slow down and descend once they reached my position. Finally, I had successfully done everything I could and should do. Looking at the open land getting closer and closer ahead, I only truly realized at this moment what an exciting, joyful, yet subtly melancholic moment this would be.

The boundless valley was indeed vast. From the sky, the thousands of soldiers appeared scattered in only a few corners, like a pile of loose sand with no clear pattern. However, upon closer inspection, one would discover that the soldiers' positions were quite subtle. A ring of soldiers stood around the outer edge of the valley, exactly sixty-four in total, arranged according to the order of the sixty-four hexagrams of the I Ching. Within each hexagram, the nine palaces and eight gates of Qimen Dunjia were arranged, with the Life Gate (生门) located in the southeast according to the principles of the eight trigrams, and the Yin-Yang Taiji at the very center of the nine palaces.

At first glance, it appears to be a formation entirely based on the principles of the Eight Trigrams, a defensive formation that doesn't employ any unexpected developments. The formation itself is overly conservative and hardly considered sophisticated. However, upon closer inspection from above, I was filled with trepidation.

The sixty-four hexagrams of Fuxi, the nine palaces and eight gates, the yin and yang Taiji, from the outside in, seem unrelated, yet they are all interconnected and mutually supportive. The so-called beginning is also the end, the head and tail are also connected, and the inside and outside are also linked, which has been brought to its fullest extent by this formation.

However, no matter how powerful a formation is, it will have weaknesses. Just like even the most skilled martial artist cannot have a move without flaws. But truly wise people can use the wisdom of careful planning before acting to cover up their weaknesses, and even turn weakness into strength.

I was getting closer and closer to the ground, and what was once a tiny black dot was slowly taking shape in my eyes. My heart was pounding, and my eyes couldn't leave the center of the formation.

Its strongest point is also its weakest point.

If the Wind Emperor is truly Yi Han, and if the person who directed and set up this formation is truly Yi Han, then he must understand this principle. And the only person who can truly defend this weakest point and direct the formation changes within the Tai Chi formation is Yi Han.

The sensation of the wind lashing my cheeks gradually softened. The paraglider was already descending at a speed of 1 meter per second, and now I was maneuvering it to face the wind and slow down, making it descend even more slowly forward and downward.

I gradually reached the center of the boundless valley. The increasingly lower altitude allowed me to clearly see the scene below, and even the shocked and stunned expressions of all the Crimson Universe soldiers who looked up at me.

The familiar faces standing on the Nine Palaces and Eight Gates made me unable to contain my excitement any longer. Tears welled up like waves, blurring my vision.

In a daze, I seemed to finally see that scene from five years ago, a scene I couldn't clearly see. The boy in blue, covered in blood, collapsed, like paper burned to ashes by a candle flame, disintegrating, vanishing, turning to dust. He fell into the arms of the man in green, lying on his lap, bloody foam constantly spilling from the corner of his mouth. His weak hands tried to grasp him, but he couldn't even touch or feel him. He thought he had tried his best to say the words of love, but it turned out that such a broken voice was more heart-wrenching than silence.

The man in blue looked up at the sky and howled. His mournful and desperate cry shook the mountains, the waters, and the heavens and earth, but it could not bring back even a sliver of hope for the young man.

Tears streamed down my face, and sobs almost escaped my lips, but I couldn't cry. I couldn't cry before I saw him, before I was in his arms. I wiped away my tears forcefully, then suddenly wrapped the parachute lines tightly around my hands and leaped out of the bag.

My hand ached as if it were about to break, yet I relished the suffocating pain that suffocated me, alleviating the fear in my heart. I was truly soaring through the air, riding the wind, tracing a perfect trajectory in the clear air.

The Yin and Yang symbol drew ever closer, the ground drew ever closer, and my heart drew ever closer to my throat, my tears ever closer to my eyes. I took a deep breath, feeling the bruises and even bloodstains on my wrists from the tightness, but the pain only made me inhale more air and exhale louder.

I smiled faintly, a smile so fleeting it lasted only a moment, yet so long it allowed me to reflect on my intertwined lives, two chaotic worlds. When that smile transformed into an unwavering resolve, my piercing cry, slightly hoarse from exerting all my strength, echoed in the air:

"It's so cold!!"

Suddenly, everyone looked up and stared at me—yes, their gazes had changed from mere looking to staring. Every pair of eyes was fixed on me, anxious, confused, wary, astonished… I searched them one by one until my entire being was firmly bound by that pure purple, as if a tightly woven net had trapped me, from which I could never escape.

At that moment, time stood still between him and me. I couldn't see his face, his eyebrows, or his clothes; all that remained were those familiar yet unfamiliar purple eyes, a deep, clear purple that only I had ever seen before.

Tears finally welled up, and I loosened the parachute lines wrapped around my wrists, drawing closer to him second by second. His gaze followed my flight, and I didn't know what he was thinking, or what his feelings or gaze were as he watched me in the air.

No! None of that matters anymore, it really doesn't matter. All I know is that I finally saw him. There was no passing by, no near-misses, no life-or-death separation; he was right in front of me, within my reach.

The paraglider slowly rose to the top of his head, about to pass him. I seemed to see a blinding flash of silver, as bright and dazzling as in my dreams, yet tinged with infinite desolation. However, I had no time to think about anything else; all I knew was that the man I had sought across two worlds was below me, just below where I could leap and fall into his arms.

So, without further hesitation, I abruptly released the parachute lines I was gripping, and shouted his name in a hoarse, choked voice before jumping. In the air, there were my tears, my laughter, my lingering hoarse echoes, and the purple streak that followed me so closely…

Chapter 37 Flowing Green Waters (Part 1)

When my body was finally embraced tightly by a pair of familiar arms, and when the familiar cool breath, accompanied by the pungent smell of blood, rushed into my nostrils, the feeling of pain, exhaustion, and relaxation that emanated from my very bones made me want to cry my heart out.

For me, it was only a short separation of eight months, but I always felt like I had so much to say to him that I could never finish saying in a lifetime. I didn't even have time to see clearly whether he was in good spirits or looking haggard, I didn't even have time to think about what that patch of silvery white that broke my heart was, but I had already hugged his neck and sobbed intermittently.

The resentment of leaving him, the pain of separation between soul and body, the confusion and hesitation when forgetting, the resistance and melancholy before marriage, the do-or-die decision when choosing to travel through time, the heart-wrenching pain when thinking that he didn't love me, the bewilderment when hearing that he was the Wind Emperor, the fear that he would die here... all these fears and hatreds hidden in my heart, all these grievances that I always told myself I had no right to complain, all erupted the moment I threw myself into his arms.

That was the grievance that only wanted to cry in his arms, only wanted to complain to him, only wanted his comfort. Yihan! Yihan! Yihan... Whether silent or spoken, I always felt that calling you like this for a lifetime would not be enough.

The eerie silence around me, almost shocking and strange, slowly brought me back to my senses. When my muddled brain was able to recall where I was, I felt my muscles stiffen and my back feel as if someone had pulled me hard.

I stiffly wiped the snot and tears from my face, raised my head, and looked around with red, swollen, and blurry eyes. I saw that everyone was staring at me as if they had seen a ghost, their mouths agape, waiting for me, the only one who was sober, to stuff the egg into their mouths.

I was extremely embarrassed, my ears burning red. I struggled to jump down, but found myself as if bound by iron, unable to move. I turned back urgently and said, "Yihan, put me down first, lots of people are watching..."

The voice sounded like a woman's fragile throat, snapped shut with a sharp pinch, leaving no echo. I stared in shock at the familiar yet unfamiliar face before me, my heart screaming repeatedly: Is this Yihan? Is it really Yihan? But no sound came out of my throat.

This is a man with bewitching, snow-white hair and enigmatic, iridescent purple eyes. He doesn't possess the resilient elegance of pine and bamboo, but rather a cool radiance like a full moon; he doesn't have indifferent, dark eyes, but rather long, sword-like eyebrows that pierce the clouds; he doesn't have a pitiful, aloof air, but rather a magnetic charm that draws everyone's attention.

The same face, the same features—the former Yi Han was like a slender, resilient bamboo, unyielding; the man before me was like a fully drawn bow, poised to strike. I never knew that someone as inconspicuous and silent as Yi Han could possess such a powerful, almost demonic, magic, as sharp as a war god and as alluring as a demon. Merely changing his hair color, his gaze, and his aura, he had transformed from a silent guard into a decisive and ruthless emperor.

I truly cannot imagine what kind of pain, what kind of shock, could have turned his once black hair white, tainting it with an aura that shouldn't belong to him. Soku said he always put himself in a life-or-death situation, as if waiting for someone to save him. So who was he waiting for? And what kind of moment was he waiting for?

I gently grasped a strand of silver hair in front of him and choked out, "Four looms, weaving mandarin ducks that yearn to fly together, but alas, his head has turned white before he grows old. In the depths of the morning chill, amidst the spring waves and green grass, we bathe in red robes, facing each other. It's cold, put me down first."

The arm around me tightened suddenly, and I almost cried out in pain. When I looked up, I finally met those wild, insane, demonic purple eyes. He stared at me as if he wanted to burn me, his eyes filled with a frenzied mix of shock, doubt, ecstasy, fear, anxiety, and panic, like a chaotic battle that made his mind suddenly lose all its intelligence, leaving only instinct.

For a moment, I felt as if an extremely dull knife was scraping against my heart, scraping until it was bloody and scarred, before finally stabbing it in. The pain was extreme, yet I felt a strange sense of pleasure. I pressed my soft, wet lips hard against his chapped lips, biting down with my teeth until the taste of blood seeped between my teeth, until he let out an unconscious, low groan, before I released him.

I looked intently into his surging purple eyes and said, slowly and deliberately, "Yihan, does it hurt?"

He looked at me with a bewildered expression, his gaze conveying a thousand words, yet unable to utter a single one. Only the two of us remained in the world; his eyes held only me, and my heart held only him. Between us flowed five years of his desperate hopes and eight months of my hesitant anxiety.

Does it hurt? Yihan, is it your lips that hurt, or your heart? Or is it the longing that time has settled that hurts you? However, whatever the reason for the pain... "If it hurts, it means it's real." I bit my numb lower lip again and again, holding back my scalding tears, wanting him to see me well, strong, and happy, so I couldn't cry. "Only when it hurts do I believe I'm really back by your side."

I watched him quietly, watching his stiffness turn into a slight tremor in his lips, his cold expression turn into a tearful panic.

“Lin…Yu…” One word after another, broken and cautious. But I heard his voice again, clear and cold like the snow on the mountains, as fierce as the wind in the North Sea, yet as hot as the sand in the Tarakan Desert. That voice that had lingered in my heart for many years, never changing, but why was it so hoarse?

I was like a lost soul, my gaze fixed on one thing after another, until I heard his voice and snapped back to reality. I slowly noticed his stubble-covered face, his gaunt features, and his body, which, though exuding a commanding and imposing aura, was utterly exhausted. A surge of heartache and anger welled up within me.

"It's me." I tried to control my emotions, stroking his rough face repeatedly. "Put me down first, let me take a good look at you."