clergé

Chapitre 118

He gazed at the sweet, smiling face in the moonlight, lost in thought—the rosy cheeks, the almond-shaped eyes like black grapes, and the lips like red water chestnuts.

He was such a clever man; he planted a thought in her heart, waiting for it to take root, sprout, blossom, and bear fruit. Whether the thought concerned love or hatred, it would eventually fill her heart, making it impossible for her to let go of anything else.

He and she, like light and darkness, day and night, black and white pieces in an eternal cycle, were meant to be symbiotic.

The Eternal Ko, a famous cyclical ko, involves several stones fighting each other, many of them interconnected. Black captures a ko to force White to capture another stone in the next ko, then White captures another ko to force Black to capture back, creating a vicious cycle where neither side can escape, yet neither can stop, because whoever stops first loses. This should have been a game of endless, deadlocked play.

"Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous."

He squinted at that face, his pupils filled with dark clouds.

"I will not forgive your retreat in the face of battle, not even if you die."

Never, never, not in any lifetime.

Chapter Twenty

in the end

In the Western Regions, on Mount Helun.

It was May, and the alpine meadows were ablaze with wildflowers—golden, crimson, pale pink, and deep purple—creating a vibrant tapestry across the undulating mountains. Amidst this knee-deep, dense thicket of blossoms, a graceful young woman in red rode along on horseback. The early spring breeze tousled her long, black hair, and her beautiful face radiated a radiant smile.

"Young mistress! Take it easy!" On the lawn not far away, a felt rug was spread out, and a woman was arranging fruits and pastries on it. Seeing that the horse was running a little more happily, she looked up and said to the girl with concern.

Upon hearing this, the girl stuck out her tongue, squeezed her legs together, and the white horse leaped into the air, shooting off like an arrow.

"Young Madam! Young Madam!" The woman stood up in a panic, but there was nothing she could do but stare helplessly at the departing men and horses.

With a clear whistle, another plump and strong black horse charged down the hillside and blocked the white horse's path.

"You're being naughty again." The young man in blue on the black horse reached out and grabbed the girl in red from the horse opposite him.

"You're bullying me again!" The girl protested, her face full of displeasure, as he held her tightly in his arms.

"How did I bully you?" the young master asked, looking completely astonished.

"Didn't you promise to let me ride around on horseback? Why did you suddenly have to interfere?" The girl turned around and punched him.

She paused for a moment, then couldn't help but smile. "Didn't you promise me you'd only ride a short distance, not a long ride?" He glared at her. "Have you forgotten you're still recovering from an illness?"

Although the girl was in the wrong, she was still unwilling to accept it, pouting and refusing to answer.

Seeing her charming and willful appearance, the young master leaned forward and kissed her.

"You still say you didn't bully me!" The girl had finally found a way to get back at him, grabbing his collar and baring her teeth menacingly. "You...you..."

"What do you mean by that?" The young master raised an eyebrow at her, his face full of relentless accusation. "We're engaged, we're officially married, so how could I be considered a shameless lecher who took liberties with you?"

The girl was speechless, her face flushed and her lips pouting.

The young man was overjoyed and lowered his head to touch her lips again. From afar, the woman watched the young couple with a smile, her heart filled with countless emotions.

Finally, this day had come. Having taken care of the young master for twenty years since he was a child, she had always thought that the young master would never be close to a woman, and that there would never be anything more important to him than the game. Fortunately, this little girl in red appeared.

Several months ago, the young master brought her back to his family home, who was on the verge of death. His face was ashen, as if the sky had fallen. The entire clan practically dug up the medicine storehouse three feet deep before they were able to save the future young mistress.

Ancient ginseng from the deep mountains, snow lotus that grows only an inch every hundred years, saffron blooming on the highest peak in the Western Regions... all these treasures, unique in the world, have gone into the young mistress's belly. Now, even the mist she exhales is priceless.

It seems that the young master truly loves his wife.

This young master was none other than He Qinglu, and his fiancée, who had been brought back from the brink of death, was none other than Pang Wan, who had been declared dead several months earlier. At that time, she had stopped breathing in the inn, and it was only thanks to A Zhuo's acupuncture with golden needles and Nan Yi's marrow cleansing technique that she was barely kept alive.

Having narrowly escaped death, the still-shaken He Qinglu immediately told Zuo Huai'an about her severely damaged heart meridian, vowing to take his fiancée away and never let her remain in the complex environment of the martial world again. Such a world of intrigue and scheming was not suitable for him and his beloved.

Faced with the life of his own daughter, Zuo Huai'an made a resolute choice. He held a grand funeral for Pang Wan, brought in a body to replace her, and secretly sent them out of the pass through a secret passage.

“Take good care of her. Tell her that I, Baiyue, have severed all ties with her and will never let her have a chance to come back.”

Before leaving, the gray-haired man gave his son-in-law these words. He Qinglu finished reading the letter, raised an eyebrow, and handed it to Pang Wan. "Huh? Father has recognized Sang Chan as his goddaughter?" Pang Wan stared wide-eyed at the paper, her mouth agape. "He's even going to choose her as the Moon Worship Saintess?"

He Qinglu calmly drank the water from the leather bag, saying, "Why not? My cousin is more suitable for this position than you."

"Aren't you just trying to belittle me in a roundabout way?" Pang Wan angrily threw the letter aside. "Young master, some truths can be kept to yourself. I will thank you for that."

He Qinglu chuckled, grabbed a green fruit and stuffed it into her mouth, blinking his eyes: "Sang Chan is obsessed with power and status. She is determined to make a name for herself in the martial arts world. Her previous reliance on Gu Xiju was only to climb the social ladder. Now that the two of them have torn each other apart, since Sang Chan is determined to join Baiyue, I guarantee she will do a better job as the Holy Maiden than you, and Baiyue Sect will also flourish."

Pang Wan couldn't find a way to refute it, and felt that the world was truly ridiculous.

The once all-powerful, seemingly innocent woman of the martial arts world, whom she admired and idolized, chose the path of becoming her successor. A fairy becomes a demoness, and the demoness becomes a servant, washing her hands and cooking for others—could there be anything more absurd?

"Why are you sighing?" He Qinglu saw through her thoughts at a glance. "This is the life she wanted, the path she chose herself. Back then, she knew that as an adopted daughter, neither the He family nor the Gu Palace would ever give her a place, so she left in a huff. Maybe she's even laughing at you in your heart for not appreciating the status you were born with!"

Pang Wan was speechless.

She never imagined that while she envied Sang Chan for having countless admirers, Sang Chan yearned for the power and influence she was born with. It turns out that the most helpless thing in the world is to have what you don't want.

“Since Father has made such arrangements, what about my senior brother?” Pang Wan’s eyes revealed worry. “Will he not become the sect leader? Could it be that Father deliberately arranged for him to compete with Sang Chan for the succession?” She was ultimately concerned about the safety of the Southern Barbarians. He Yulu’s face stiffened, and he turned his head to the side: “Doesn’t he send you a letter every month?” The young master’s voice was cold and hard.

"He only said he was going to travel the world, but he wouldn't tell me where he was." Pang Wan knew He Qinglu was unhappy, so she had to explain, "It's pitiful that he's all alone and heartbroken..."

"Does knowing his whereabouts mean you intend to go and comfort him yourself?" He Qinglu's face was as black as the bottom of a pot.

Pang Wan was glared at by his stern expression and dared not say anything more: "Don't be angry, Senior Brother's skills are unparalleled, he should be fine." She clung to He Qinglu's arm and rubbed against him, her expression ingratiating.

Seeing that she had softened, He Qinglu felt that the family principle of "a wife should put her husband first" had been revived, so he happily pinched her nose and said, "I have a gift for you." He gently kissed his little wife.

"What?" Pang Wan winced in pain, rubbing her nose, somewhat annoyed that he hadn't thought things through.