Wandering Swordsman |

He opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing, as if a thousand words were stuck in his chest—

"Qing'er, I..."

These words were rehearsed repeatedly in his mind, but when they reached his lips, it was as if his tongue was being cut by a knife, and he couldn't utter a single word.

He gazed into Murong Qing's clear, watery eyes, as if he could see the light in them slowly fade, her smile crumble, and her turn and leave...

He dared not think.

"I..." he finally said in a low voice, "I'm just... a little tired."

Murong Qing gazed at him for a long time, then suddenly sighed softly, "Shen Mo, do you know what I admire most about you? It's not your martial arts, but your heart—as open and honest as the bright moon. But now... you're avoiding me."

Her voice trembled slightly, yet remained gentle: "If you truly have something difficult to say, tell me. Whatever it is, I'm willing to listen and share your burden. You're mine, aren't you?"

The five words, "You are mine," struck Shen Mo like a thunderbolt, shattering his heart and soul.

In the midst of this deathly silence, the bamboo shadows swayed slightly.

A figure in plain clothes stood quietly outside, her skirt swaying gently and her hair slightly disheveled.

It's Situ Meng.

She arrived at some unknown time, standing quietly, her gaze fixed on Shen Mo and Murong Qing inside the room, like autumn water reflecting a cold pool, calm yet concealing unspeakable pain.

Looking at Shen Mo's struggling and painful appearance, and at the confusion and hurt in Murong Qing's eyes, she finally walked in slowly. Her white dress brushed against the bluestone, silently, yet it seemed as if she had shattered the moonlight in the courtyard.

When Murong Qing's gaze fell upon Situ Meng, Situ Meng spoke softly, "Miss Murong..." Her voice was clear and cold, yet firm. "Let me speak."

The wind suddenly stopped, the bamboo leaves froze, and even the fish swimming in the pond seemed to hold their breath.

Shen Mo suddenly turned his head, his pupils shrinking slightly, as if he were startled.

But Situ Meng simply shook her head at him, her eyes as calm and resolute as the moon reflected in a deep pool.

She faced Murong Qing directly, clasped her hands together, and bowed deeply. Her sleeves slipped down, revealing a section of her fair wrist. Her fingertips trembled slightly, yet she remained as steady as a rock.

"That night, on Mount Qingcheng... I was taken hostage by Situ Changkong and a woman, and I was also affected by the 'Youtan Yin'."

......

After speaking, she raised her head, her gaze frank and direct at Murong Qing, neither avoiding nor yielding, her eyes showing no shame nor pleading:

"Although I have survived, I have lost my innocence. And Young Master Shen Mo has made a promise to me—to never betray him in this life. He is a man of great loyalty and integrity, willing to betray the world rather than betray a woman who is trapped in a predicament due to poisoning."

She paused, her Adam's apple bobbing slightly, as if she were swallowing a thousand pounds of bitterness, but her voice remained steady:

"But I know that you and he are already engaged, your relationship is settled, and your love is deep. Although I, Situ Meng, also have feelings for Princess Shen, I know that I cannot take away someone else's love, and I do not want to put Shen Mo in a dilemma."

She slowly lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings: "I came not to argue, but to explain things to you face to face, so as not to put Young Master Shen in a difficult position. If you cannot tolerate me because of this matter, I will leave the Martial Alliance, return to Jingtian Pavilion in Changbai Mountain, and never set foot in the martial world again."

The evening breeze gently lifted the window curtains, brushing past a stray strand of hair at her temple, making her face appear even paler than paper.

Shen Mo stood to the side, his heart aching. He wanted to speak, to take responsibility for everything, but he knew that this was a hurdle they had to overcome on their own.

Murong Qing did not move.

She simply stood quietly, her fingertips lightly resting on the strings. The silver string trembled slightly, producing a very soft "zheng" sound, like a tear falling.

a long time.

She finally looked up.

There was no anger, no resentment, only a deep, still pool reflecting the candlelight and Situ Meng's figure.

She suddenly smiled.

That smile was like the first melting snow of spring, clear yet warm.

"Miss Situ..." she said softly, her voice as gentle as a breeze rustling through willow branches, "Do you know what the first rule of the Murong family is?"

Situ Meng was taken aback, and replied in a low voice, "I heard it is—'Loyalty comes first, social status second'."

Murong Qing nodded, her smile deepening: "Indeed. My Murong family has never judged people by their birth. When my father chose my mother as his wife, there were criticisms within the family about her humble origins. But my father said: 'One who has principles in his heart is noble.'"

She stepped forward, reached out, and gently helped Situ Meng up.

"Your bow just now wasn't a plea, but a gesture of sincerity. You weren't afraid of making me angry or hate you, but you were afraid of putting Shen Mo in a difficult position. This kind of character surpasses countless so-called 'daughters of noble families' in the world."

She gazed into Situ Meng's eyes, each word spoken clearly and firmly:

"Shen Mo is my fiancé, and will be the son-in-law of the Murong family in the future. As for you, you are the daughter of the martial arts alliance leader, skilled in both literature and martial arts, and possessing both virtue and talent. If we're talking about being a good match... you're not unsuitable."

"What?!" Shen Mo looked up abruptly, speechless with shock.

Situ Meng trembled all over, her eyes instantly reddening, almost unable to believe her ears.

Murong Qing merely smiled calmly, turned and strolled to the pond's edge, gazing at her reflection in the water: "I know you have feelings for him, otherwise you wouldn't be willing to bear this alone. I also know he values ​​relationships, otherwise he wouldn't have made the promise of 'never betraying you in this life.' Between you two, there is already a bond of life and death; how could I sever this bond between you simply because of my engagement to Shen Mo?"

She turned around, her gaze as radiant as moonlight:

"If I were to force Shen Mo to stay and make you leave, how would I, Murong Qing, be any different from those arrogant and domineering women in the martial arts world? If I truly love him, I should allow him to have peace of mind and to have no regrets."

Her tone shifted, carrying a hint of playful stubbornness: "Besides... when has my judgment ever been wrong? A man who catches my eye must be outstanding. The fact that another person likes him only proves his excellence."

A night breeze swept past the house, and the lotus shadows swayed in the pond not far away, the water rippling gently, as if heaven and earth were holding their breath, listening to the deepest echoes in the hearts of these three people.

Shen Mo stood where the candlelight and moonlight met, his black robes trailing to the ground, his figure as straight as a pine tree, yet his chest heaved violently, as if a thousand-pound wave was surging in his heart.

He gazed at Murong Qing's exquisitely beautiful face and heard her say in such a magnanimous and proud tone, "A man who can catch my eye must be outstanding." In that instant, he felt a lump in his throat and a warm feeling welled up in his heart.

A thunderclap seemed to roll through his heart, lingering for a long time. Yet, this woman before him, with her magnanimity and wisdom, had carved a path of light for him—not through tolerance, not through concession, but through a proud stance, propelling him into a wider world.

He knelt on one knee, looking at Murong Qing with unwavering eyes, his voice low yet firm as a rock: "Qing'er... if I, Shen Mo, ever betray even a fraction of your sincerity, may I be struck down by heaven and earth."

Murong Qing gently shook her head and reached out to help him up: "You don't need to swear. I believe you, not because of your promises, but because you are my man, Murong Qing's man."

Her gaze shifted, then fell upon Situ Meng.

Situ Meng was already in tears, but she forced herself not to cry out. She looked at Murong Qing, whose clear, watery eyes held no jealousy, no defensiveness, only openness and tenderness. The last trace of unease in her heart melted away like ice and snow meeting the sun.