Chapter 30: Conversation Over the Abyss, A Heart Stirred
Hearing this answer, Chen Changsheng felt a strange sort of happiness and pride, and said, “Thank you.”
Xu Yourong replied, “You’re welcome.”
“In any case, I have my senior brother. I believe everything he says.” Chen Changsheng circled the topic back again.
Xu Yourong asked seriously, “What did your senior brother say about your blood?”
Chen Changsheng said, “My senior brother said that only a sage could withstand the temptation of my blood.”
Xu Yourong thought to herself, why are you so stubborn? So the conversation continued.
“Since your blood wasn’t drained dry, it means no one has ever endured that temptation.”
“There is.”
“Who?”
“My senior brother.”
“… You’re still alive, which proves he didn’t drink your blood. But didn’t he say only a sage could withstand that temptation?”
“Exactly. My senior brother is a sage.”
At this point, the space between them finally fell silent. Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong stared into each other’s eyes, unsure how to continue. In truth, neither of them was skilled at conversation. Now, facing death, their deliberate attempt to chat cheerfully not only failed to achieve its goal but came across as stiff and clumsy.
Both of them sighed inwardly at the same time, then turned their heads away, their gazes parting. Xu Yourong looked at the real world beyond the green leaves, at the black line of the beast tide on the distant grasslands, and asked, “About when will it arrive?”
Chen Changsheng said, “Probably before dusk.”
Xu Yourong was quiet for a moment, then said, “So this is our last day.”
Chen Changsheng, being very sensitive to time, corrected her: “It’s our last daytime.”
Xu Yourong smiled faintly and didn’t bother arguing with him further.
Sensing her mood, Chen Changsheng was silent for a while before saying, “My senior brother once said that if you struggle to the very end and still can’t change your fate, then you might as well savor or enjoy everything fate brings you.”
Xu Yourong finally understood the source of the words he had spoken to her that night in the temple. She pondered them quietly for a moment and felt that this simple phrase was not simple at all. She held Chen Changsheng in high regard, and hearing how much he respected this senior brother, she became even more convinced that the senior brother was no ordinary person—the cultivation world thought the Snow Mountain Sect had declined, but who would have guessed it still had such remarkable young disciples?
Thinking about these things, she naturally turned to her own sect. Her days studying at the Qingyao Thirteen Divisions were long past. The Nanxi Sect’s inner sect had only her as a disciple, so she was actually more familiar with the disciples of the Changsheng Sect, especially those of the Lishan Sword Sect. Since their paths were aligned, they addressed each other as senior and junior brothers and sisters.
“I also have a senior brother,” she said, referring naturally to Qiushan Jun.
Then she fell silent for a long time. In all those years of cultivation in the south, Qiushan Jun had always been good to her—so good that she barely noticed it, and it never made her uncomfortable. The world said they were a perfect immortal couple, and she knew that Qiushan Jun’s love for her ran deep. She couldn’t help but wonder: if she died in the Zhou Garden, how heartbroken would he be?
“And then?” Chen Changsheng didn’t understand why she had suddenly gone quiet and asked.
Xu Yourong said, “In that temple, we discussed the word ‘perfect.’ You said there couldn’t be a perfect person in this world, and I admitted there was some truth to that. But my senior brother is the closest thing to perfection I’ve ever seen.”
Chen Changsheng thought to himself that he also believed his own senior brother was perfect, but in the eyes of the world, he was just a flawed man.
“And my senior brother is very good to me,” Xu Yourong added, looking into his eyes, though she didn’t know why she felt the need to say that.
Chen Changsheng also didn’t know, nor did he understand why hearing those words made him feel a hint of sourness. Even his next words carried that sourness. It wasn’t reflected in the words themselves but in his tone—a deliberate indifference and disregard.
“So… do you like him?”
He looked steadily back into her eyes and asked. At that moment, he felt very strong.
If it were any other time, any other young man asking such a question, Xu Yourong would naturally not answer. But now, atop the tomb of Zhou Dufu, the one asking was him… or perhaps she had been waiting for him to ask this question all along, using the pressure of death and… his words to see clearly into her own true heart.
She asked herself very seriously and carefully, then gave her answer.
She didn’t speak. She just shook her head.
The faint sourness in Chen Changsheng didn’t dissipate, because she had still thought about it—he had no experience with matters between men and women, so he didn’t understand that the fact she had given it serious thought before answering was precisely what should have made him happy.
He thought for a moment, then asked, “Does he like you?”
This time, Xu Yourong didn’t think long. She nodded directly.
She didn’t realize that this response might seem a bit proud, because she was simply stating an objective fact.
Chen Changsheng calmed himself down, feigning confusion—really just trying to make himself happier—and continued, “If he’s perfect and likes you, why don’t you accept him?”
Xu Yourong had clearly answered similar questions before, though she couldn’t recall whether the one asking before was Shuang’er, the Saintess, or herself. In any case, her answer came smoothly and calmly.
“First of all, no matter how strong he is, he’s only about as strong as I am.”
Before she could finish, Chen Changsheng objected. At this moment, he had completely forgotten his own position. Just like that day in the temple, he felt this girl’s thinking was deeply flawed. He wanted to change her perspective so she could live more happily, but he had completely forgotten that the beast tide was approaching.
“That mindset of yours is wrong. Making friends isn’t about fighting. What does it matter who’s stronger?”
Xu Yourong didn’t know what was going on in his mind. After thinking it over, she said, “What you say makes sense. As a cultivation partner, his realm and strength are sufficient. In fact, among our peers, I’d be hard-pressed to find a more suitable match. But the path of cultivation is long. If we’re to spend day and night together for so long, I should at least find someone who suits my heart.”
The phrase “suits my heart” was a good one. Chen Changsheng looked into her bright eyes and said seriously, “I support you.”
Xu Yourong smiled without a word, thinking to herself that this kind of thing didn’t need anyone’s support—those things were all very good, very fine, but I just don’t like him. My senior brother is perfect in every way, but I simply cannot make my heart stir. That is the only reason.
The poison was gradually receding, but she was still weak, her face pale and far from beautiful. Yet the smile in her eyes, to Chen Changsheng, was incredibly lovely. It directly stirred his heart.
“Stirring the heart” is a very subtle term, hard to describe. A person’s heart beats constantly. So what does it mean for the heart to be stirred? Does a faster heartbeat mean the heart is stirred? Zheshou’s heartbeat quickened at regular intervals, but that was an illness.
Chen Changsheng didn’t know either.
But he knew that at this moment, his heart was stirred.
(It’s Monday today. I sincerely ask everyone to cast your recommendation votes. Thank you. Tomorrow there will only be one chapter, and that chapter will be my favorite since I started writing *The Legend of the Mortal*. It contains everything I love, and I’ve been preparing it for a long time. Honestly, I can’t care whether you all like it or not, because I love it too much. Of course, if you can like it too, that would be the best.)