16 No Support

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The girl in the night still wore the red clothes from the day, covered by a pale moon-colored cloak. Her jade-like complexion appeared even more luminous, and her delicate features in the dim light were enchanting.

For a moment, he was briefly lost in thought before regaining his composure. "Miss Ali, what are you doing here?"

"I came with my second brother."

"Where is he?" He looked around but saw no sign of Yu Jingliang.

"There’s a scuffle over there; he went to help."

Upon hearing this, his expression suddenly changed. He quickly signaled Shen Qinglu to follow him and walked toward Mu Hanshi.

"Uncle Jiu, this is Miss Ali from the Yu household."

Then to Shen Qinglu: "Miss Ali, this is my Uncle Jiu."

Shen Qinglu neither bowed nor greeted him.

Firstly, she was originally mentally impaired and shouldn’t be aware of the proper etiquette when meeting elders. Secondly, she didn’t know how to address this man called Uncle Jiu; calling him that would seem inappropriate.

"Uncle Jiu, Ali’s temperament is like this; she means no harm. Please don’t blame her," Mu Lin explained quickly, worried Mu Hanshi would think she was unruly and wanting to defend her.

She kept her head down and said nothing.

Mu Hanshi glanced at her and said to Mu Lin, "Go check over there."

Mu Lin intended to go but hesitated, concerned about her. "Miss Ali, stay here. I’ll go find your second brother."

She wasn’t suitable to follow and could only nod.

As Mu Lin left, silence fell over the surroundings.

The moonlight was bright, silver and dazzling—a purity she had never seen in her previous life. The high-hanging jade disk of the moon and the tower lamp’s glow complemented each other.

Tonight the moon shone upon her; she wondered if it could also reach her loved ones in the future. They would grieve after her passing, wouldn’t they? Perhaps someone was gazing at the moon, longing for her at this very moment.

She was immersed in her own emotions, trying hard to ignore the other person present.

As someone who identified herself as a scheming woman, she didn’t want to waste effort changing others’ opinions. She knew the likely outcome was futile and would only make people despise her more.

She thought since the other party had already judged her character, he would ignore her. Unexpectedly, she heard his faint voice ask, "You must have heard what we said earlier."

Had she or hadn’t she?

Pondering briefly, the answer formed in her heart.

Once prejudice sets in, all attempts at playing the victim are useless, even laughable. Moreover, at this moment, she no longer wished to feign madness or foolishness.

Finally, she looked over and met his gaze.

The man bathed in moonlight wore a heavy cloak, his face pale and somewhat ethereal. His white robe was even more dazzling than snow, elegant and otherworldly. He exuded an aura of indifference toward all worldly things, like lingering snow atop a cold peak, unmelted for years, pristine and aloof.

This person seemed physically frail and appeared uninterested in living.

She had once been like that too, seeming to treat life and death lightly, pretending to be calm and detached, yet inwardly yearning to live more than anyone.

Perhaps like repels like; the first thought that surfaced in her mind was: she didn’t like this person!

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As their eyes met, Mu Hanshi clearly saw the colorful brilliance reflected in her dark pupils, along with a trace of unhidden dislike.

It seemed she had heard what they said!

In an instant, he approached like falling snow.

"Stop wasting your schemes. This ends here."

Shen Qinglu was stunned, her body trembling.

Perhaps it was because his movements were ghostlike, she thought.

So close, it felt like a heavy snow pressing down, making it hard to breathe. She didn’t want to explain and didn’t know how, but what needed to be said had to be said. She wouldn’t admit to what she hadn’t done when asked to her face.

"What schemes? I haven’t done anything."

Her face was too exquisite—once she stopped playing the fool, every nuance of her brows and eyes bore a natural, intense allure. Even if innocent, with such looks, she was inevitably regarded as cunning and successful wherever she went, especially those dark yet radiant eyes that captivated souls.

Mu Hanshi sneered, "Three years ago, you met Arin at night, chatting about the stars—Sirius, Ziwei, the Cowherd and Weaver Girl. Not to mention a man and woman alone should avoid suspicion, how could you be someone born with defects or a fool?"

His words struck like thunder in Shen Qinglu’s ears.

When she was fifteen, she had a dream.

The moon in the dream was large and full, like tonight’s. She didn’t know where she was, but beside her sat a youth. The youth had a face she liked and knew well. Together, they watched the stars and spoke of Sirius, Ziwei, the Cowherd and Weaver Girl.

Waking again from the hospital bed, she looked at the person who had stayed beside her through the night and wondered silently about their past or future lives and what relationship they might have.

She recalled the familiarity of sitting with Yu Jingliang in the courtyard—the moonlit house, the wooden dummy, stone table and stools…

"That person was Arin?"

The intimate mention of “Arin” inexplicably displeased Mu Hanshi. Such emotional shifts caused by someone so distant felt strange to him.

"Uncle Jiu!"

"Ali!"

In the night, three people hurried over.

He lowered his eyes slightly and immediately distanced himself from Shen Qinglu by several steps.

In Shen Qinglu’s eyes, only that handsome young man in blue remained—the familiar features stirred deep emotions in such a setting.

Dreams return to emptiness, both real and illusory; the intertwining of past and present lives seemed tied by an invisible thread connecting her to this time and space.

They arrived, and Yu Jingliang first bowed to Mu Hanshi, then quickly came to her. "Ali, are you alright?"

She shook her head, holding back tears.

"Ali, this is Lord Cheng Qianhu," Yu Jingliang introduced another man.

"Cheng Ying," the man said.

Cheng Ying appeared about seventeen or eighteen years old. Though his features were extremely delicate and feminine, he gave off a sharp, cutting aura, especially with slightly upturned phoenix eyes that carried a hint of nobility.

Yu Jingliang called him "Lord Cheng" because his rank was higher. He was a Qianhu (Commander of a Thousand), while Yu Jingliang was a Baihu (Commander of a Hundred).

"Ying is my distant cousin," Mu Lin added.

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Shen Qinglu’s gaze involuntarily fell on him.

His appearance and voice bore some resemblance. Could this be their past life? But even if so, this person was not the one she knew. Then why had she come here? Was it to rekindle the sibling bond from a previous life, or something else?

Suddenly, several shadows fell like leaves, weapons gleaming coldly in the quiet.

Without hesitation, she lunged toward Mu Lin.

Mu Lin was quicker and without hesitation took a shield-like stance before Mu Hanshi.

The sword’s flash carried a metallic scent. In a blink, it was about to strike her when a sharp clanging sound rang out—the sword hit the ground, and the attacker fell as well.

Before she could see who it was, Mu Lin pulled her away and pushed her back, then immediately joined the fight.

That push was unlucky for her; she stepped on a small stone and stumbled, almost falling into Mu Hanshi’s arms.

Mu Hanshi’s figure was like drifting snow, instantly stepping away. Then he stood with hands behind his back, like a snow pine in the harsh wind, unmoved. His poised elegance and detached expression, otherworldly and exquisite, made Shen Qinglu grit her teeth in frustration.

She couldn’t grab anything and was caught waist-first by Cheng Ying.

"Ali!"

Yu Jingliang came over and said to Cheng Ying, "Lord Cheng, thank you."

Cheng Ying said nothing, handed Shen Qinglu to Yu Jingliang, and hurried to help Mu Lin.

"Ali, don’t look," Yu Jingliang tried to cover her eyes.

Shen Qinglu removed his hand. "Second brother, I’m not afraid."

Seeing no fear on her face, he was quite pleased and whispered, "Ali, you’re braver than I thought; I think you’re truly my sister."

Shen Qinglu’s dark eyes stared silently.

His words were said in the moment without much thought and were soon forgotten. Just as he was about to help, the fight ended. Three bodies lay on the ground, all lifeless.

"Lord Cheng, Arin, were these all suicide assassins?"

Only suicide assassins would leave no survivors.

Mu Lin held his bloodied sword, eyes fixed on Shen Qinglu, burning with fiery passion, like the sky ablaze with red clouds.

"Miss Ali…"

His appearance, his tone…

Yet Shen Qinglu, for some reason, instinctively did not respond but looked for the one who seemed uninvolved.

In the vast moonlit night, that snowy figure had already vanished.

He didn’t help but let the juniors take the front line, fleeing faster than anyone. What kind of person was that?

Bah!