Chapter 71

He heard Ning Shiting’s voice: “It’s jealousy.”

“This subject dares not.”

“He doesn’t dare.”

Ning Shiting’s voice and Gu Feiyin’s voice rang out at the same time.

Gu Tingshuang, hidden within Ning Shiting’s sleeve, could only feel that his body was cold, his very bones trembling slightly. It was impossible to tell whether it was from anger, worry, or something else entirely.

The little wolf’s fur bristled in response to the two distinct consciousnesses within this body, both burning with fury. At this moment, Gu Tingshuang had to exert all his willpower to suppress the wolf’s instinct—to leap out and tear the two people outside to pieces.

Gu Feiyin’s cultivation was unfathomable, and a young Spirit Mountian white wolf was no match for him. On the other hand, Baili Hongzhou might be slightly weaker, but this was not the time to act rashly.

Because Ning Shiting’s hand, hidden within his sleeve, had gently grasped one of the little wolf’s paws.

The movement was deliberate, meant for him to see.

When the wolf’s paw relaxed, Ning Shiting’s grip was gentle. But if the wolf tensed, baring its claws and fangs, his hold would tighten accordingly.

That cun-by-cun tender pressure kept him shielded within the sleeve, preventing him from acting recklessly.

Those fingertips were ice-cold.

After those words were spoken, Gu Feiyin lowered his gaze and glanced at Ning Shiting. He reached out, pulled him closer, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. With a faint smirk, he said, “A-Ning was a little thoughtless this time. I apologise on his behalf. I hope the Grand General can forgive him this time.”

Bai Li Hongzhou, seeing Gu Feiyin’s open display of intimacy with Ning Shiting, immediately understood that lingering any longer would only spoil the Wangye’s amusement. So he let out a dry chuckle and said, “I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare. Since the spirit gate has already opened, I’ll go oversee the situation. You’re all on the same side—just talk things through properly. Ning Gongzi, there’s no need to take this too much to heart.”

Saying that he bent down and slipped out through the curtain.

Outside, the wind and snow lashed against him. At the mouth of the gorge, a row of Fire Lotus Umbrella had been lit, but the fierce snowstorm nearly knocked him off balance. Baili Hongzhou couldn’t help but curse under his breath, “This unlucky weather.”

His personal attendant quickly stepped forward, opening a Fire Lotus Umbrella for him and whispered, “The Gongzi has already gone inside. General, were you angered just now? Ning Shiting is merely a subordinate—he’s hardly worth risking the Gongzi’s life. If Wangye cannot swallow this, why go so far to endure it?”

“A subordinate?” Baili Hongzhou let out a cold snort, his tone laced with mockery. “When the Qing Wang was here, he was indeed just a subordinate. But when the Qing Wang refused to let him go, who he really is becomes a much more complicated matter. Do you think I was truly angry just now? I was simply playing along with the Qing Wang, helping him teach that little Jiaoren a lesson. But this time, the Qing Wang is genuinely furious.”

“Then about Ting Shu, the Xiao Gongzi…”

“My Xiao-di has always had a frail fate. If we speak in terms of sentiment, Ning Shiting could be considered his benefactor. Let’s just call it one life for another. As for the rest…” Baili Hongzhou’s voice dropped, “the Baili clan has no place in this matter.”

Outside, the blizzard raged.

Inside, though the fire in the brazier crackled and cast a warm golden glow across the room, the atmosphere was even colder than the snowstorm beyond.

Gu Feiyin’s gaze was like ice, yet his lips still carried that faint, unreadable smile. “A-Ning, if this happens again, I will not clean up your mess a second time.”

He let go.

Ning Shiting’s knees buckled, and he knelt down in one fluid motion. Yet the movement was so light that it seemed as though he had simply lost his balance the moment Gu Feiyin withdrew his hand. His figure swayed, just as unsteady as the turmoil in his heart.

His voice was quiet, yet firm. “Please, Wangye, allow me to go. I am no longer ill—I can go. I beg Wangye to grant me permission.”

With that, he bent low and knocked his forehead heavily against the ground, remaining in a deep kneel.

The seconds passed, each one stretching unbearably long. The wind howled outside, stripping away the last remnants of warmth from his chest. The longer he knelt, the more it felt like the cold would seep into his very bones.

The memories of Ting Shu coming to see him over the past few days surfaced in his mind, each scene still vivid.

Why hadn’t he noticed it sooner?

Ting Shu had come… to say goodbye.

That day, he had returned the handkerchief to him, smiling. But exhaustion from the past days and the lingering sickness had clouded Ning Shiting’s senses. He had failed to see the loneliness in that child’s eyes.

Ting Shu came over just like always, throwing himself into his arms. This time, he clung to him a little longer, his expression more serious than usual.

...Why hadn’t he noticed?

Ting Shu talked to him about life in the Baili residence, saying how comfortable it was to live in that distant place, how happy he had been—all so he wouldn’t worry.

He told him, just as Ning Shiting had once hoped, that he was about to follow a hermit into seclusion, that he might not be able to visit often in the future.

Back then, when Ting Shu first started following him, he had discovered that every silver-threaded handkerchief he touched would darken. That was when he first learned of his identity as a poison-bearing Jiaoren.

At that time, he had asked him the same question: “I am a poisonous Jiaoren. If you’re afraid, I can send you to someone else.”

Ting Shu had replied, “I’m not afraid. I’ll ask Gongzi to paint, and then I’ll embroider over the patterns. Others need ink, brush, and paper to paint, but Gongzi only needs his hand as a brush and a silver handkerchief as paper. That is one of a kind.”

Gu Tingshuang might have noticed something strange about the child and had even mentioned it to him a few times, but he hadn’t taken it seriously.

He had trusted too much in the events of his past life, remembering only that after Ting Shu’s death, Baili Hongzhou had broken ties with the Qing Wang’s household—but that might not have been true.

The Snow Yao incident had already turned out differently from his past life, so how could he be sure that Ting Shu’s fate would be the same?

Gu Tingshuang had been right. Both the Baili family and the Qing Wang’s household were feared by the Immortal Emperor. They had only allied out of necessity and would part ways just as easily.

So much had changed between his past life and this one, but one thing had remained constant—the pressure from the Immortal Emperor.

In his past life, Baili Hongzhou had stormed into the Qing Wang’s residence to demand his life in exchange for another. Later, Gu Feiyin had remained silent.

In this life, Ning Shiting had been pursued by the Ice Mayflies outside the city gates. When the report was sent, Gu Feiyin had ignored it.

They had already given their silent consent. They had known all along. Gu Feiyin had tacitly agreed under the Baili family's influence that this time, sacrificing a mere Ning Shiting would be enough to settle the matter.

For the Baili family, this was the best possible choice.

For some reason, Gu Feiyin suddenly no longer wanted to go through with it. Perhaps it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, or perhaps he simply felt that the poison-bearing Jiaoren in his hands was too rare, too precious—something he might never obtain again.

He no longer wanted Ning Shiting’s life.

If the great wings could not be broken, then he would pluck the fullest feather from them. Baili Ting Shu, who had loyally followed Ning Shiting for years, was also the most exceptional and rarest Ice Mayflies.

That was why Baili Hongzhou had hurried back to recognize him as his long-lost younger brother, bringing him home and treating him with utmost care—to show the Immortal Emperor their sincerity.

Plucking this feather would, in the Immortal Emperor’s eyes, mean breaking both the Qing Wang’s and Baili Hongzhou’s wings. Why wouldn’t he do it?

From this perspective, the value of letting Ting Shu die was even greater than the value of letting Ning Shiting die.

In that instant, everything became clear to Ning Shiting. His heart, already frozen cold, felt no further ripple of emotion as he finally saw the man before him for what he truly was.

The only pain he felt—dull and suffocating—was for Ting Shu.

His voice was hoarse as he said, “Begging Wangye…”

“Ning Shiting, are you trying to defy my orders?” Gu Feiyin studied the Jiaoren before him with great interest, finding his unusual reaction somewhat amusing.

Ning Shiting’s voice was steady. “Yes. Please… please grant me the chance to defy Wangye’s orders.”

“I never expected my A-Ning to care so much about that child. In your heart, is Baili Tingshu’s safety more important than mine?”

Gu Feiyin leaned down, meeting his eyes directly. “When did my A-Ning… stop caring about my well-being? That’s not very obedient of you. You haven’t been very obedient lately. I thought you understood—this is your punishment.”

“The rumours of discord between the Qing Wang’s household and the Baili family? Those are false. I forgot to tell you. Since when did you start falling for such things?”

Ning Shiting’s fingers were stiff.

Gu Feiyin’s pitch-black eyes were close, dark and unreadable. His voice slithered into Ning Shiting’s ears like a viper: “Do you need me to remind you who gave you your life? Or has my A-Ning started to believe that his wings have hardened enough to seek another tree to perch on? Whether you can even be considered a fine bird is another matter, but A-Ning—you can only live with a shred of dignity if you remain in my hands. Perhaps I’ve been spoiling you too much lately.”

“If you won’t speak for yourself, shall I list out for you just how much trouble you’ve caused me these past few days?”

Gu Tingshuang sensed that Ning Shiting’s grip on his small wolf paw was getting too tight. He could feel the pain for the little wolf, yet he did not pull back. Instead, he lowered his head and licked Ning Shiting’s fingers lightly through the fabric.

The rough, searing heat of a beast’s tongue pressed against him, abruptly pulling Ning Shiting back to his senses.

Against Gu Feiyin, he had lost once again—utterly and completely.

He had followed this man for nearly a decade, knew his moods better than anyone. Gu Feiyin’s anger was at its peak right now, and if he said even one more word that displeased him, not only would he lose any chance to save Ting Shu, but Gu Feiyin might very well dispose of him on the spot.

“Betrayal” was Gu Feiyin’s greatest taboo. And for Ning Shiting, someone raised at his side, someone who was his right-hand man, to “betray” him—this was a direct slap to his face.

Gu Tingshuang was just about to move again, looking for an opportunity to slip out from Ning Shiting’s sleeve. But before he could, he was suddenly jolted forward in an unexpected roll—Ning Shiting had changed his stance, rising to his feet for a brief moment before dropping to the ground once more, pulling Gu Tingshuang along with him in a clumsy tumble.

He heard Ning Shiting’s voice: “It’s jealousy.”

Gu Tingshuang’s ears perked up.

“What?” Gu Feiyin’s expression did not waver in the slightest. He continued looking down at Ning Shiting from above.

“I am… jealous.” Ning Shiting knelt obediently before him, speaking each word with deliberate hesitation as if they were difficult to say. “Since Wangye returned, you have not stayed home for even a moment, instead spending your time at Yike Qianjin. I have also heard rumours… that Wangye may have found another beloved person at your side.”

“Go on.” This response seemed to please Gu Feiyin.

Ning Shiting had never said such things to him before. In fact, given this Jiaoren’s reserved and composed nature, Gu Feiyin had never even considered that he would one day hear these words from him.

Ning Shiting lowered his voice. “It was Wangye who abandoned me first—not I who intended to betray Wangye or bring harm upon him.”

Gu Tingshuang listened intently, his small, furry ears brushing against Ning Shiting’s sleeve, ticklish against the fabric.

Inside Ning Shiting’s sleeve, he could see nothing. But in that moment, he swiftly sent his spiritual sense outward for a fleeting glimpse before pulling back and suppressing his wolf form once more.

That single glance was enough to make his spine go numb.

From his father’s perspective, he would see Ning Shiting kneeling meekly before him, head slightly tilted upward, with a faint mistiness in his eyes. Yet, restrained by shame and self-control, he fought to suppress it, making the corners of his eyes redder, his lips glossier.

His long silver hair had come loose from kneeling and bowing, cascading down his shoulders in a dishevelled, fragile mess. The aloof coldness he usually carried was completely gone, his features now tinged with a quiet allure beneath the flickering candlelight—an unconscious beauty.

A Jiaoren of unparalleled grace.

“Abandoned you… abandoned you first.” Gu Feiyin repeated his words, then suddenly burst into laughter.

In that instant, his mood seemed to lighten, the oppressive tension from before lifting entirely.

“My good A-Ning has even learnt how to be jealous, so for what reason could I be harsh on you?”

Gu Feiyin turned away, picked up his tea, and sat back down in his original seat, a lingering smile at his lips. “Then this time, I’ll give you a chance, A-Ning. Do whatever you want—I won’t interfere. But whether you succeed or not is entirely up to you.”

Now that Gu Feiyin was no longer standing before him, Ning Shiting’s taut body relaxed slightly, as if finally catching a breath after suffocating for too long.

He bowed and expressed his gratitude. “Thanking Wangye.”

Then, without another word, he stood up and left the tent.

Gu Tingshuang remained hidden in his sleeve.

If Ning Shiting had not been holding him down, he would have turned back right now and torn the man inside to pieces.

If his human body had been close enough, he would have reached out to support Ning Shiting.

He could hear Ning Shiting’s breath—still heavy with illness, weighed down with exhaustion. He could sense the clench of his jaw, the grinding of his teeth, not just from the cold but from the sheer force of the hatred that erupted in him the moment he stepped out.

Such hatred.

The same hatred Gu Tingshuang had seen before, the same unrelenting, all-consuming determination he had witnessed in his dreams—Ning Shiting, extreme, resolute, willing to risk everything.