Chapter 68#

It Was You Who Forced Yourself Upon Me#

Jiang Xueya didn’t touch the medicine bowl and asked, “Does the Grand Sect Master truly mean what he says?”

Tantai Jing’s voice was steady, as indifferent as ever. “I do.”

“A-Hui said you were cold-hearted, and indeed you are.” Jiang Xueya’s smile turned cold, sharp as a blade’s edge. “If you want it gone, then it’s gone. However, such a procedure is harmful to the body. Forgive this official for resigning from her duties to return to Yunzhou for recovery.”

The man opposite her did not speak. Jiang Xueya stared into his cold, dark grey eyes, her heart turning mostly cold as well. She had always been a decisive person; when had she ever been tripped up by such trivial matters of love and affection?

She briskly picked up the bowl, preparing to drain it in one gulp, but the man opposite her spoke: “What happened between us was not my wish.”

“And so?” Jiang Xueya sneered. “You don’t even have the courage to admit it? After all this, what kind of man are you? It was I, Jiang Xueya, who was blind.”

“Jiang Xueya,” Tantai Jing’s expression was frozen and stern, “it was you who forced yourself upon me.”

Jiang Xueya: “…”

Jiang Xueya understood his meaning. From start to finish, he had never consented; she had forced him, so naturally, he did not look forward to the child’s birth.

She set down the medicine bowl and nodded. “Fine. Rest assured, Grand Sect Master. From this day forth, Jiang Xueya will retreat to Yunzhou and trouble you no more. Let the past be like passing clouds; there is no need for you to dwell on it, and I shall never mention it again.”

She untied the Qilin green jade from her waist, placed it on the table, and pushed it toward Tantai Jing, then unbuckled her standard-issue horizontal dao and her Commander’s token. Her decisiveness was startling, completely without hesitation. If he was heartless, she would leave. An icy aura emanated from Tantai Jing’s entire body; though Jiang Xueya couldn’t see it, frost had already begun to form on the corners of the table.

Jiang Xueya went to pick up the bowl again, only to see ice spreading along the tabletop. With a series of crackles, frost climbed up the rim of the bowl. Jiang Xueya withdrew her hand, and in the next moment, the entire bowl of medicine was frozen solid.

“What is the meaning of this?” Jiang Xueya frowned.

“Withdraw,” Tantai Jing said.

“Fine,” Jiang Xueya said. “I’ll go home and drink it myself.”

“…” Veins actually bulged on Tantai Jing’s forehead; he rarely showed such a loss of composure.

Jiang Xueya stood up to leave, but then heard the man’s authoritative voice. “Jiang Xueya, follow me.”

Tantai Jing led her behind a screen, where tall bookshelves stood stacked with volumes. The air smelled of musty books. Tantai Jing pulled a book from the shelves and handed it to Jiang Xueya. She looked down and flipped through it; it was a medical record, and its owner was Tantai Jing’s younger sister, Tantai Xun.

After Jiang Xueya finished reading, Tantai Jing handed her a second one. It was also a medical record, but this one belonged to his father, Tantai Xian. Then a third, a fourth… almost every member of the Tantai family possessed a thick medical record, and without exception, they all recorded the same affliction—Cephalalgia.

Tantai Jing spoke slowly: “The direct lineage of the Tantai clan inherits the ‘Blizzard’ secret art, and they also inherit this incurable condition. My father’s generation and my sister were trapped by this pain all their lives; seventy to eighty percent of them committed suicide. Anyone who inherits the ‘Blizzard’ art will inevitably inherit the chronic headaches.”

“But you don’t have this condition,” Jiang Xueya said.

Tantai Jing shook his head and handed her another medical record. This one belonged to him. Jiang Xueya flipped it open and saw that prescriptions for the headaches were written up until he was ten years old, after which there were no more records. This meant that Tantai Jing had also inherited this deadly condition but had been cured at age ten. Jiang Xueya examined the last prescription; the physician was actually her master, Ming Ruowu. The formula was called the “Tai Sui Elixir Prescription,” and it seemed this was what had cured Tantai Jing.

“The Tai Sui Elixir uses the Purple Gold Tai Sui from Mount Zhuluo as a medicinal catalyst. The Purple Gold Tai Sui is as clear and bright as hard ice; your master traveled throughout the Great Jing and only found one on Mount Zhuluo.” Tantai Jing looked out the moon window, his expression revealing a hint of loneliness. “In my generation, both A-Xun and I suffered from the affliction. Because I was the heir of the Tantai family, my parents made the decision to abandon A-Xun and give the world’s only elixir to me.”

Jiang Xueya understood. Tantai Jing recovered, while his sister lived her entire life in pain.

Tantai Jing pulled a pristine scroll from the secret archives and slowly unfurled it. On it was a painting of a woman.

“Your personality is similar to hers,” Tantai Jing said.

Jiang Xueya studied the face in the painting. Some secret arts could alter the practitioner’s appearance; “Blizzard” was such an art—all who inherited it had grey hair and eyes. The woman in the scroll had light grey hair and dark grey eyes, bearing a strong resemblance to Tantai Jing.

Tantai Jing continued: “Thirty-two years ago, she volunteered to explore the Snow Realm. On her return, she was ambushed less than ten miles from the Great Wall. With her abilities, retreating to the Wall would have been more than easy, yet she fought alone until her strength was exhausted and she died. I know it was the pain that had wearied her; she no longer wished to suffer. The Tantai clan has enjoyed hundreds of years of glory through the ‘Blizzard’ art, and that is enough. Hui-er is fortunate; he did not inherit ‘Blizzard.’ He can marry anyone in the world, except a woman of the Tantai clan. I do not wish for this flawed bloodline to persist in this world. I intend to be the last of the Tantai direct lineage.”

The light from the window illuminated Tantai Jing’s cold profile. He gazed at the portrait of his late sister, and Jiang Xueya saw a profound sorrow in his grey eyes.

Tantai Jing rolled up the scroll and looked at Jiang Xueya, frowning slightly. “You, do not be willful anymore.”

Jiang Xueya put the medical records back on the shelf and said with a smile, “I see. The Grand Sect Master said so much and even showed me the Tantai family secrets just to coax me.”

Tantai Jing’s expression returned to indifference.

He said, “Too many words.”

“I’ve seen the files on Princess Suwu’s case,” Jiang Xueya said. “The culprit who attacked the princess was never found, and the case remains unsolved. Once the Great Court Meeting is over, let this official investigate it.”

“No need,” Tantai Jing said. “It was the demon race that killed her.”

So that was it. Jiang Xueya paused for a moment, then slapped the dust off her hands. These medical records had been sealed for too long and were covered in dust. She went back to the table to retrieve the Qilin jade and the token. The ice had frozen them solid, and it took Jiang Xueya a great deal of effort to pry them loose.

“In a few days, those from the noble families will enter the Border Capital. According to my father’s confession, there are quite a few demons hidden among them. Although we have recruited many ‘Divine Eye’ practitioners, demand far exceeds supply. I have a plan. A-Hui once set up a large Star Array in the Black Street, with four subsidiary arrays and a central mother array. It can amplify secret art effects a hundredfold. They used it to open the Wuxiang Portal to move the Black Street; we can use it to cast ‘Divine Eye’ over the Border Capital. Once the array is activated, ‘Demon-Reflecting Mirrors’ will be established in all four directions, and no demon entering through the six gates will be able to hide.”

Tantai Jing nodded. “I grant you permission to act as you see fit.”

“I don’t want to drink the abortifacient. A-Hui also has the Tantai bloodline, yet he doesn’t suffer from the headaches. How do you know my child will definitely inherit ‘Blizzard’ and fall ill with this incurable disease?” Jiang Xueya asked.

Tantai Jing’s voice took on an undeniable authority. “Do not be absurd.”

Jiang Xueya had made up her mind not to drink it. She waved her hand and turned to leave. A spiritual pressure as heavy as Mount Tai bore down on her; Jiang Xueya’s bones and muscles throbbed with pain, and she instantly dropped to one knee. Sweat poured from her brow. The cold, aloof man paced toward her and picked up the dark medicinal soup. The pressure vanished, and she slumped to the ground. Attendants on either side pinned her shoulders and back; her hands were bound, and she could not escape.

“I have already tolerated your insolence,” Tantai Jing said. “Do not presume upon my favor.”

The attendants pried her teeth open, and Tantai Jing poured the medicine into her mouth.

She resisted with all her might, but the liquid flowed unimpeded down her throat. Though the medicine was warm, she felt a chill through her entire body. She seemed to feel a life quietly dying within her, like a feather drifting into the wind; she reached out in vain, unable to catch it.

Supporting herself with her arms, she struggled to maintain her balance. Suddenly, she recalled Tantai Jing’s sorrow as he looked at the portrait, and the spotless condition of the scroll. Other records were thick with dust, but that painting alone was pristine, suggesting that Tantai Jing often took it out to remember the person in it. Rumor had it that Princess Suwu was decisive and vigorous in her actions; when Jiang Xueya first entered the Hidden Sect, many said she possessed the Princess’s legacy. Even Tantai Jing had said she was similar to Tantai Xun.

Her heart shook violently. Inch by inch, she raised her head to meet the eyes of that indifferent man.

“I offended you and bullied you; you should have killed me long ago,” Jiang Xueya asked. “Do you tolerate me because I am like your sister?”

Tantai Jing did not answer her question.

He said, “You have overstepped, Jiang Xueya.”

There was no need to ask further. Jiang Xueya had already found the answer in his reaction. He was the high-and-mighty Grand Sect Master and would not deign to lie to her. “Overstepped” was his indirect warning. This was his privacy, his secret, and she had no right to pry. She didn’t feel sad; instead, she found it laughable. So, the Grand Sect Master of the Kunlun Hidden Sect, the one to whom the noble families bowed, actually loved his own sister.

Tantai Jing set down the bowl and stood up. “I will leave this place for you to rest.”

Jiang Xueya, however, used her knees to push herself up. She wiped the medicine from the corner of her mouth, a mocking smile appearing on her crimson lips.

“No need. The tasks the Grand Sect Master assigned haven’t been completed yet. I must hurry, shouldn’t I?”

Contrary to her usual self, she wasn’t angry at all. This calm demeanor was like a temporarily dormant volcano—seemingly stable, yet harboring surging waves of molten lava within. Tantai Jing’s dark grey eyes watched her, as if examining her heart.

“This official takes her leave.”

Jiang Xueya expressionlessly turned around and left the quiet study. Exiting the palace gates, she headed straight for Sunkang Ward. When she arrived at Su Ruohui’s small courtyard, there was no one around. Jiang Xueya wanted to find a place to sit alone; she poured a cup of fruit wine in the kitchen and sat in the small hall to wait for Su Ruohui’s return.

Since his rebirth, Su Ruohui had quit drinking and didn’t touch a drop of strong liquor. This plum fruit wine was kept for guests; the alcohol content was low, and it tasted mostly of sweet plums—not strong enough. Jiang Xueya couldn’t feel any intoxication and found it disappointing. It began to snow again. Jiang Xueya watched the willow-down-like flakes, letting the cold wine chill her chest.

Her heart was restless, her stomach throbbed in waves, and her head ached. She pulled a white porcelain bottle from her sleeve, poured out a few pills, and swallowed them with the cold wine. Even after taking the medicine, the frustration in her heart did not diminish. She squeezed her hand hard; the wine cup shattered with a pop, and crimson fruit wine mixed with blood flowed over her hand, yet she felt no pain.

After resting with her eyes closed for a while, she was about to leave when her communication compass rang. She opened it.

“Milady, the three puppets are ready. Also, your father reminds you to take your medicine on time.”

“I understand,” she replied coldly.