A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, tearing the night in two.
In the sudden, blinding light, Zhang Wenbi leaned against the wall, her breath coming in ragged gasps that burned her throat.
In the rainy night, she had seen the guards' standoff, seen the young woman Shen Qingwu threatening Madam Shen with her bent back, seen the nanny weeping and Shen Zhuo stunned—but what she saw most was her younger brother—
Zhang Xingjian—standing quietly underthe umbrella, seemingly detached from the clamor, unrelated to the fierce struggle in this alley.
But his eyes, fixed on Shen Qingwu, were now as bright as a starry sea, as deep as an abyss—depths she'd never seen before.
When had Zhang Xingjian, who always wore only smiles and amiable expressions, ever revealed such a profoundly focused and intense gaze?
Rain lashed against the umbrella as Zhang Xingjian silently observed Shen Qingwu. She looked disheveled, but she wasn't truly disheveled. The pale-faced young woman could still threaten Madam Shen; her martial prowess also made her unrestrained—power incarnate.
In the face of such betrayal and oppression, Shen Qingwu's behavior was truly extraordinary. She remembered holding a dagger, remembered demanding repayment, remembered brandishing her claws—refusing to be prey.
Zhang Xingjian involuntarily walked forward, drawn by something he couldn't name.
Raindrops fell on his dry robe. Chang Lin, holding the umbrella, reacted a moment later before following Zhang Xingjian with hurried steps.
Zhang Xingjian walked step by step around the crowd, flashes of lightning brushing his face, shadows obscuring his vision. He simply circled around, getting closer and closer to Shen Qingwu at the very center—orbit tightening.
Shen Qingwu lowered her eyes, her bright eyes, gleaming from the fight, staring unblinkingly at Madam Shen with predatory focus.
Madam Shen, offended and both angry and ashamed, said, "Do you remember I'm your mother? How dare you speak to me like that?"
Shen Qingwu remained perfectly calm, each word precise. "You are Madam, not my mother. Even if you were my mother, I would still say the same thing."
She sensed a figure and cautiously glanced up. She saw Zhang Xingjian behind the crowd, looking at her with lowered eyes—always watching.
Shen Qingwu paused for a moment, something flickering across her features.
Then she looked away, not giving him another glance—dismissal complete.
She slowly sheathed the dagger, straightened her back, and released Madam Shen with deliberate control. "I've finished speaking, I'm leaving."
Madam Shen's voice rose with panic. "Where can you go?! The world is so vast..."
Shen Qingwu said simply, "The world is so vast, I'll just wander around."
This world is vast, the mountains and rivers are boundless, and the rain is pouring down; she seems to have nowhere to go. But she has already decided in her heart to go for a walk. How can a person live in this world without a place to belong? She must find a place to belong for herself—forge her own destiny.
Zhang Xingjian watched intently as Shen Qingwu turned her back. After the guards gave way one by one out of fear, she walked out of the circle—proud, unbroken.
The night rain was bleak, washing the world gray.
The girl was thin, her face was cold and pale, but she stood tall and walked decisively—every step a declaration.
Shen Zhuo murmured, confusion and concern mixing. "Qingwu, where are you going? Aren't you going home?"
Shen Qingwu, with her back to them, did not answer.
Zhang Xingjian looked at her, clearly capturing the lasting touch in his heart at that moment. He was acutely aware that his blood was boiling and his emotions were rising, simply because he had seen the rebellious and dazzling side of this girl—brilliance in the darkness.
He knew he was falling for her, his interest ignited by the difficult-to-get-along-with Shen Qingwu.
He experienced this unprecedented emotional fluctuation, waves crashing through carefully constructed walls.
But after a brief moment of confusion and joy, he quickly calmed down—ice reasserting itself.
Zhang Yuelu shouldn't be controlled by emotions, much less develop any unnecessary thoughts about someone unsuitable. Emotions would disrupt his mind and ruin his family's achievements; the Zhang family had already suffered greatly because of this.
Zhang Xingjian would never allow himself to become like his brother who died young without ever meeting him, nor would he allow himself to bring any stain to the family.
The moment emotions begin to ignite is the best time to nip them in the bud—
Shen Qingwu, walking aimlessly in the rain, heading towards an unknown path, heard a voice calling from behind: "Second Madam Shen."
She stopped, turned around, and saw everyone turning their heads in surprise, looking at Zhang Xingjian who had suddenly spoken.
For a moment, Shen Qingwu looked at that person, a vague expectation rising in her heart despite everything.
Perhaps she hoped he would be different from others, perhaps she hoped he would say she didn't have to be this way, that he was willing to be with her, willing to acknowledge her as his savior, and take her away from the Shen family—rescue for the rescuer.
Everyone saw Shen Qingwu's clear, burning gaze—hope naked and vulnerable.
Including Zhang Xingjian.
Changlin's hand, gripping the umbrella, trembled with veins standing out. He lowered his head, almost unable to bear watching. He couldn't bear to see the light in Shen's eyes dim. He hoped that Sanlang's call to Shen Qingwu meant he had changed his mind.
Zhang Xingjian gazed at Shen Qingwu with smiling eyes, a hazy, affectionate facade created by the misty rain. His voice was clear and gentle:
"Second Madam Shen, your vow is just a few words on your lips. A vow on the lips cannot be taken seriously, and I don't believe it."
The light in Shen Qingwu's eyes faded like a dying star.
After a long pause, she whispered, "I wasn't just boasting; I swear I meant it from the bottom of my heart. I'm very serious."
Zhang Xingjian said with terrible gentleness, "Heaven won't really send lightning to strike anyone."
This time, even Zhang Wenbi, who was watching from the alley entrance, kept his gaze fixed on Zhang Xingjian, his eyes filled with doubt and dawning horror.
Shen Qingwu asked, grasping for solutions, "You want me to write a signature?"
Shen Zhuo angrily said from behind, "Enough, Zhang Yuelu. My sister's affection for you is not an excuse for you to humiliate her like this! Do you think you're some hot commodity that my sister can't live without?"
Zhang Xingjian ignored Shen Zhuo and only spoke to Shen Qingwu, as if they were alone. "In my opinion, oaths can be betrayed, signatures can be disregarded, only life-and-death entanglements and deep-seated hatred can ensure that two people can't be together."
He was polite, devastatingly so. "Second Sister Shen, I am not worthy of you. Since we've already taken this step, let's take another one to make Zhang feel more at ease."
Shen Qingwu said blankly, "I don't understand."
Zhang Xingjian smiled, the expression beautiful and terrible. "Stab me."
—Drawing his sword in public, severing any possibility of reconciliation between the two.
Shen Qingwu suddenly raised her eyes, her icy, snow-white eyes shining even brighter in the lightning—understanding dawning.
The Shen family at this end of the alley was shocked, gasps and protests erupting.
Zhang Wenbi at the alley entrance shouted sharply, "Zhang Yuelu!"
None of them reacted as quickly as Shen Qingwu.
Zhang Xingjian took a step forward, offering himself.
A sharp dagger grazed his chest—then plunged deeper.
Since he was so self-deprecating, she drew her knife.
As they brushed past each other, he saw Shen Qingwu's snow-white face, raindrops dripping from her eyelashes like tears. Blood dripped from her hands, her eyes were as black as night mist, she looked at nothing, yet there was a hint of panic—the only crack in her armor.
The crowd cried out, "Sanlang!"
Shen Qingwu plunged her dagger directly into Zhang Xingjian's chest, avoiding vital organs but not stopping him from bleeding. A large amount of blood seeped out, dark and spreading, and the handsome young man of the Zhang family collapsed to the ground, surrounded by people rushing to his aid.
Madam Shen trembled, her voice shrill with shock. "He told you to stab him, so you stabbed him? Shen Qingwu, you've really gone mad!"
Her lips trembled, wanting to call Zhang Xingjian mad too, but when she looked up and saw Zhang Wenbi swaying at the alley entrance, she didn't dare say it.
Shen Qingwu stood upright for a moment, blood on her hands, then strode away. The guards, unsure whether to stop her, were busy saving the third son of the Zhang family—
Zhang Xingjian, waking from his unconsciousness, saw Zhang Wenbi's pale face and bloodshot eyes in the carriage, her expression devastated.
Zhang Wenbi's voice was hoarse with pain and fury. "Zhang Yuelu, no one can be as ruthless as you."
Even though she disliked Shen Qingwu and didn't want Shen Qingwu to have any connection with the Zhang family, she couldn't be as ruthless as Zhang Xingjian—couldn't wield cruelty like a blade.
Inside the carriage, the weakened Zhang Xingjian maintained a smile, his face deathly pale. The more he acted this way, the more a poignant beauty he exuded—tragedy made aesthetic.
He closed his eyes and asked, "Where is Shen Qingwu?"
Zhang Wenbi replied flatly, "I don't know."
Zhang Xingjian coughed a few times and said softly, "I want to arrange a position for her in the Imperial Guard. The Shen family has wasted her martial arts talent. She's not suited to return to the Shen family; she should do something else."
He said this to seek her consent.
Zhang Wenbi closed her eyes, exhaustion washing over her.
Zhang Wenbi said hoarsely, "You've gone to such lengths to sever any possibility between you two. Do you think I'd stop you from showing her even a little kindness? Zhang Yuelu, your sister isn't that heartless."
But Shen Qingwu didn't seem to appreciate it.
After returning home to recuperate from his injuries, Zhang Xingjian had repeatedly asked people to speak to the Shen family, saying that if he saw Shen Qingwu, he should tell her he could help her find a different way of life; with her martial arts skills, she shouldn't be wasting her life.
The Shen family only told the Zhang family that they hadn't seen Shen Qingwu since that night—vanished like smoke.
Days passed in this way, and on the day of the first snowfall in Tokyo, Zhang Xingjian and Shen Qingye became engaged.
On the day of the engagement, Shen Qingye neither ate nor drank, sitting blankly in her room, even weaker than when she first arrived in Tokyo—a ghost of herself.
The maids outside the curtain urged her to dress. "Madam, the young master of the Zhang family and his sister have come to offer tea as a wedding gift. Even if you don't show your face, you must return the greeting from behind the curtain. Please don't make things difficult for us."
A slight "thump" sound caught Shen Qingye's attention as she sat in the room, stunned.
Always frail, she was more sensitive to any unusual sounds than others. She raised her head to find the source of the sound and saw a small arrow stuck in a pillar, with a piece of paper dangling from it—a message from the impossible.
Shen Qingye hurriedly went over and opened the paper, seeing a simple sentence on it:
"I'm going to join the army."
Shen Qingye clutched the paper, tears suddenly streaming down her face like rain. She disregarded everything else, pushed open the door, and rushed into the corridor, stumbling and falling.
Just as she was about to fall, someone caught her.
She looked up and saw Zhang Xingjian, his face noticeably thinner, marked by recent suffering.
Zhang Xingjian looked down and saw the note in her hand. Shen Qingye trembled, tears streaming down her face. "But my sister is only sixteen, but my sister is only sixteen..."
She was about to be forced to this point!
When Zhang Xingjian came to his senses, he was already on horseback, chasing after the road out of Tokyo. For some reason, his palms were sweating, and his heart was pounding—logic abandoned.
He didn't know what he was going to do—
Zhang Xingjian and Shen Qingye climbed the city wall. The night was dim, and the Milky Way stretched across the sky in breathtaking glory. They saw a lonely figure riding away into the distance under the night sky.
Shen Qingye threw herself against the railing, panting and crying out, "Sister, sister—"
Outside the city wall, Shen Qingwu lay on her horse, hearing the faint sound carried on the wind. She turned around and saw the lights of the tall buildings behind her, and the Milky Way flowing in the sky like a river of stars.
A huge, bright moon hung in the sky, its clear light covering the vast land, magnificent and sacred. Shen Qingwu wanted to call those around her to look, but then remembered that she had always been alone.
Zhang Xingjian stood atop a high building under the moon, his robes fluttering, the moonlight hazy and the night frosty—ethereal, untouchable.
He was the moon hanging in the sky.
She was a speck of mud in a puddle after the rain.
The moonlight shone on those around them. For a moment, the moon saw her, but she was not in the moon's eyes…
She was filled with resentment—bitter, burning.
She turned away from the city, from the moon, from everything she'd ever wanted, and rode into the darkness alone.
Behind her, Zhang Xingjian stood frozen on the wall, watching her disappear into the night. His hand gripped the stone railing until his knuckles turned white.
He had succeeded. He had severed every tie, destroyed every possibility, protected his family's future and his own carefully constructed path.
So why did his chest ache as if the dagger were still there, twisting deeper with every breath?
The moon watched from above, cold and distant and perfect.
The mud rode away below, alone but unbroken.
And between them—only the vast, unbridgeable darkness.
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