Chapter 130

Yuwen Xi spoke with deep feeling, the tenderness in his gaze toward Eva growing warmer as he continued, “Yingyue, I once thought that you were a cruel joke the heavens had played on me. After stirring my heart, you simply abandoned it, leaving me in unbearable pain. But in the end, heaven was not entirely unkind. It sent a brand-new you back to my side, giving me the chance to reshape your memories—not to have your heart filled with that man anymore, not to have your eyes see only him. Since that is how things are, I will never let you go this time. I will keep you firmly by my side and never allow you to return to that man’s arms. You will belong to me alone!”

As he continued to voice his love, Yuwen Xi’s eyes grew feverishly intense. He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to Eva’s red lips, then slowly raised it again. Looking at Eva, who remained asleep, he whispered, “From today onward, you are Eva—my Eva alone!”

Yuwen Xi then rose and walked resolutely toward the door. Standing beside it, he smiled at Eva one last time before gently closing the wooden door and preparing to leave.

“Have you truly decided to become engaged to Eva?”

A soft, delicate female voice came from behind him. Yuwen Xi turned and saw Avril, dressed in white, staring at him with a complicated expression.

Yuwen Xi glanced at her without expression and said coolly, “That has nothing to do with you.” With that, he turned and walked toward his own room.

Avril looked awkward, but she hurried after him all the same. “How can it have nothing to do with me? You are—”

“Shut up!”

Before she could finish, Yuwen Xi interrupted her. He spun around, his expression severe and his gaze cold and dark.

“There is nothing between us. And even if there should be something between us in the future, I will never acknowledge you in my heart. To me, you are nothing more than a stranger.”

Avril’s body trembled. For an instant, hurt flashed through her sea-blue eyes, but she quickly concealed it. Then she said coldly, “Aren’t you afraid that one day, when she remembers everything, she will hate you? After all, what you are doing is nothing less than taking advantage of her vulnerability!”

The implication was clear: What you are doing is no different from the behavior of a despicable villain.

“Heh.” Yuwen Xi let out a cold laugh. His gaze was filled with undisguised contempt. “I told you, this has nothing to do with you.”

His eyes suddenly turned grim.

“And don’t think I’m unaware of the filthy, disgusting thoughts in your heart.”

His words were merciless—no, they were nearly cruel. When Avril’s fair complexion instantly turned pale, he showed no pity. Instead, he continued in an even harsher tone.

“Why do you think I never wanted to come back here? Do you think it was merely because I hated that sinister, scheming old man and didn’t want to see him? Heh. That was only part of the reason.”

Seeing a flash of fear appear in Avril’s eyes, Yuwen Xi continued, “You were wrong about nothing. The greatest reason I never wanted to return was you!”

Avril’s face went deathly pale, and her lips began to tremble. But Yuwen Xi did not let her off. He looked at her with disgust and said, “Your presence has made a place I already disliked even more detestable. Because of you—”

He suddenly leaned close to her face and enunciated each word.

“You make me sick.”

With that, Yuwen Xi strode away without the slightest hesitation.

The instant he turned his back, Avril could no longer endure. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor. Her face was filled with heartrending grief, and sorrow flooded her sea-blue eyes.

“Miss, are you all right?”

A passing maid saw that her usually noble and untouchable young mistress was sitting on the floor without a trace of dignity. Though frightened, the maid still asked out of duty.

Avril suddenly raised her head and glared at her viciously.

“What did you just see?”

The maid shuddered inwardly. Good heavens, the young mistress was terrifying. The way she looked at her was as though an evil spirit had wrapped its fingers around her throat, leaving her chilled from head to toe.

Under that horrifying stare, the maid forced herself to remain composed. Trembling, she stammered, “I… I… I didn’t… I didn’t hear anything…”

Avril rose to her feet and fixed the terrified maid with a sharp gaze. With a dark smile, she said, “You had better have seen nothing.”

Then she drifted away.

The maid’s legs instantly went weak, and she fell to the floor. Her trembling hand brushed across her forehead, and her palm came away damp. Her entire body shivered when she realized that her back was already drenched in sweat.

Good heavens. The eldest young mistress did not possess only the gentle side of an angel, the kind that made people feel as though they were bathing in the spring breeze. When she revealed her evil, demonic side, she was far more terrifying—enough to send a chill through one’s entire body.

How frightening!

At that thought, the maid scrambled away.

After she had gone, a dark shadow flashed past and vanished around the bend of the staircase.

Elsewhere, at the White Villa—

The morning sunlight filtered through the white gauze curtains and fell upon a deeply handsome yet slightly weary face. Golden hair lay scattered across the snow-white pillow in careless disarray.

Arthur drew one arm from beneath the covers and rubbed his aching eyes with his long fingers. Then he slowly opened them. His sky-blue eyes seemed to reflect the azure heavens beyond the window.

He picked up the alarm clock, glanced at the time, and set it down again. After a moment’s thought, he reached for the telephone beside him and slowly dialed a number.

The crimson sun was gradually rising above the horizon, dyeing the icy-blue sea a fiery red. Golden light shimmered across the rippling waves.

The white sands of Sirius Island were draped in a veil of gold.

Not far from the beach stood a row of small white wooden cabins, bathed in the morning light and wrapped in quiet serenity.

One of the wooden doors opened, and a sturdy man stepped outside. His loose clothing fluttered in the morning breeze. Raising a sharply jointed hand to shield his eyes from the light, he gazed into the distance.

He was a gaunt man. His skin was sallow, his eye sockets sunken, and his gaze lifeless. The skin on his dry lips was peeling, and a few strands of silver were scattered through his withered black hair.

He was a man utterly wasted away.

A telephone began to ring. The man answered without a change in expression, and a familiar voice came from the other end.

“It’s me, Yu.”

There was no mistaking it. This wasted, haggard man was Xiahou Yu—the ever-vigorous Xiahou Yu.

“What is it, Arthur?” Xiahou Yu asked indifferently.

Ever since the day Yuwen Xi had beaten him and declared that they were no longer friends, he had become like this. He spent every day consumed by guilt and despair. Life held no meaning for him, and living brought him no joy. Each sunrise marked the beginning of another day of self-torment.

Yingyue—the flowerlike young girl—had disappeared because of his negligence, and he could no longer find her. He had failed to look after her. He had betrayed the solemn trust Arthur had placed in him, the immense faith Yuwen Xi had shown him, and, most of all, the sisterly dependence Yingyue had placed in him.

For a while, both men remained silent over the telephone. One was drowning in guilt and did not know how to begin; the other was troubled, uncertain how to tell him something. But not knowing how to speak did not mean that one would remain silent forever. After a long pause, Xiahou Yu spoke first.

“Arthur, did you need something?”

His voice was flat. Apart from the weariness woven into its tone, it revealed almost no emotion.

On the other end, Arthur let out a sigh so faint it was almost inaudible. Then he began, though his words came haltingly.

“Yu, I called today because there is something I need to tell you.”

After saying this, Arthur once again found himself unable to continue. He knew how devastating Yingyue’s disappearance had been for Xiahou Yu, yet he had failed to tell him at once that she was still alive. He had allowed Xiahou Yu to sink alone into grief, and the guilt now made it difficult for him to speak.

“Arthur, what exactly is it?” Xiahou Yu asked, puzzled. What could possibly be so difficult for Arthur to say?

“Ah…”

Arthur sighed heavily. He braced himself for Xiahou Yu’s furious reproach—and perhaps even a beating later on—before gathering his courage.

“Yu, the thing is…”

He licked his dry lips.

“Actually… actually…”

“What is it? Why are you being so evasive?”

Xiahou Yu was no longer merely puzzled. He had also become intensely curious.

“Actually, Yingyue didn’t die!”

At last, Arthur managed to say it. Relief flooded him.

“…”

“Yu… are you all right?”

When Xiahou Yu remained silent, Arthur asked nervously.

“You… just now… what did you say?”

After a long while, Xiahou Yu’s hoarse voice finally came through. It trembled, carrying an overwhelming, disbelieving joy.

“You heard me correctly. Yingyue did not die.”

This time, Arthur did not stammer. He repeated the words clearly and smoothly.

“Re… really?”

Xiahou Yu struggled to cover his mouth. He was afraid he would burst into tears, for his face was already wet.

“Yes, it’s true. She didn’t die. She is still alive.”

As Arthur spoke, his gaze dimmed and fell. Sorrow welled up in his eyes once more.

Yes, she was still alive.

She simply was not living very well.