The full moon hung high, and the lanterns cast a dim, yellow glow.
Under the ambient light, Feng Lingshuang patiently told Lu Li the story of her and her “older brother.”
Her voice carried a tremor, as if she were experiencing a rebirth.
“Back then, my brother’s life was very meager. The place he lived… it was dilapidated and drafty. Sweltering in the summer and freezing in the winter. But without a second thought, he carried me—covered in filth and at death’s door—back to that place he barely called ‘home.’ He gave me a corner where I could take shelter from the wind and rain, a place where I no longer had to live in fear.”
Feng Lingshuang’s narration gradually became more detailed, filled with the minutiae of life.
“He was always frugal, splitting a single steamed bun into two meals, yet he always saved the best and cleanest food he could find for me. When I had a high fever, he would stay by my side all night in a panic. He used a cloth soaked in cold water to wipe my forehead over and over again. I can still see the worry and anxiety in his eyes clearly, even now…”
Feng Lingshuang spoke of how her brother had patiently taught her to read and write, character by character, when she was still ignorant.
She told of how he stood up for her without hesitation when other bullies mocked her for being small and aloof.
He used his back—which wasn’t broad and was even a bit thin—to shield her firmly, driving away the malice.
With his silent but powerful actions, he slowly rebuilt a small shelter for her broken sky, a sanctuary that made her feel incredibly safe and warm.
“Later, perhaps as Heaven Rewards the Diligent, my brother’s situation seemed to gradually improve. He was no longer as strapped for cash as he was at the beginning. But he remained the same, always putting me first. If there was anything good, he always thought of me first.”
She spoke softly, skillfully weaving those meager but warm daily memories of Duanqing Peak into the background of a mundane life.
Her focus remained on that meticulous care and unwavering protection.
“He had a quiet nature and didn’t talk much; sometimes he even seemed a bit clumsy. But I know he gave me the best of everything he had and everything he could think of, without reservation.”
Feng Lingshuang’s voice gradually lowered, carrying an imperceptible but real sob.
It was a bitterness and longing that transcended dreams and reality.
“He was like… like the only light in my cold life. He illuminated me, and he also saved me.”
Lu Li listened quietly the entire time without interrupting.
At first, it was out of politeness, but as the deep emotions flowed beneath the calm narration, he unconsciously became immersed in this story of deep sibling affection.
He could clearly feel the unadorned sincerity and the bone-deep longing in her words.
This caused him to feel a sense of genuine sympathy and an indescribable favor toward this “Jian Mingzi,” who had seemed cold and unapproachable when they first met.
The Spirit Energy moving beneath his hands became even more gentle and steady, as if he wanted to use his own way to soothe the sadness brought by these memories.
“It sounds like your brother was indeed a gentleman of profound feeling and great integrity.”
Lu Li looked up, his gaze sincere as he looked toward the veiled hat, offering heartfelt praise with evident admiration.
“The world is a bustling place driven by profit. To have such a brother protect you with all his heart is truly a great fortune, Daoyou.”
Beneath the veiled hat, the corners of Feng Lingshuang’s mouth curled into an extremely complex and unspeakable arc—a mixture of bitterness, sweetness, reminiscence, and a deeper confusion.
“Yes… a fortune one dreams of, but cannot touch.”
With that said, Feng Lingshuang looked up at Lu Li, her eyes full of intense emotion.
‘Who exactly… are you? Are you the only warmth on that lonely peak in my dream?’
Feng Lingshuang’s questions did not diminish because of this venting.
Instead, due to this close, undisturbed contact, his focused listening, and his sincere response, the questions became even more turbulent, nearly drowning her.
The veil seemed thinner, yet it also felt heavier, blocking reality and illusion, leaving her heart in a mess.
Lu Li looked at the silent “Jian Mingzi,” who was shrouded in a faint sorrow.
The favor and sympathy in his heart grew even stronger.
Thinking that she had mentioned he resembled her brother, he felt a bit curious and wanted to steer the conversation away from sad memories.
He softened his voice and asked with a gentle smile.
“Hearing Daoyou’s description, your brother’s character is truly admirable. I am somewhat curious… what kind of wonderful person could deserve such deep gratitude and praise from you?”
He paused, his tone natural and earnest.
“If there is an opportunity, I wonder where your brother is now? Could you introduce us? I would like to make his acquaintance.”
He said this out of genuine admiration and a desire to befriend such a person.
He thought it would be a wonderful thing to know this “brother” who valued loyalty and affection so highly.
However, to Feng Lingshuang, these words were like a clap of thunder!
‘Ah? Introduce him?!’
Beneath the veil, Feng Lingshuang’s pupils shrunk and her breath hitched!
She had woven this story to hide her true feelings and that absurd dream; where could she find a real brother to introduce?
A wave of immense panic seized her.
How should she answer?
Should she say, “My brother is you, but he is only a shadow in my dream”?
That was impossible!
In a flash, a common excuse to cut off further questioning surfaced in her mind like an instinct.
It was so logical, and it could perfectly explain all her previous sadness and reminiscence, yet it also felt like a cold dagger carving into her heart.
She bowed her head suddenly, the white gauze of her hat swaying to hide her bloodless face and the surging pain in her eyes.
When she spoke again, her voice was incredibly strained, carrying a forced suppression—a tremble squeezed from the depths of her throat.
It was a very real tremble, not entirely faked.
“He…”
She paused, seemingly needing a great deal of strength to say the following words.
“He is no longer with us…”
Just five words, but they seemed to exhaust all her strength.
Her hands on her knees tightened unconsciously, her knuckles turning white.
“What…?”
The smile on Lu Li’s face froze, replaced by utter shock and immediate regret!
He never expected his casual question would touch such a deep wound!
Seeing her head drop and her figure shrink, he was immediately filled with intense guilt.
“I—I’m sorry! Jian Mingzi, I spoke out of turn! I am truly sorry!”
Lu Li said hurriedly, his tone full of sincere apology.
He wished he could take back his words.
“I… I shouldn’t have asked about this so abruptly and brought up such sad memories. Please, try to restrain your grief and take care of yourself!”
He felt helpless, sensing that his comfort was pale and weak.
Even through the veil, he could feel the spread of her sorrow, and he blamed himself even more.
If he had known, he never would have asked.
Hearing his anxious and guilty apology, Feng Lingshuang felt a complex mix of emotions.
On one hand, she felt a sting for deceiving him; on the other hand, his undisguised concern and self-blame overlapped with the image of her Master in her memories and dreams.
It made her already confused heart lose its direction even more.
She shook her head gently, her voice still low and raspy but forced into stability.
“It is fine. Immortal Lu, do not blame yourself. It is… it is just that I have not been able to fully let go yet.”
The atmosphere in the Stone Pavilion grew even heavier due to this sudden “death.”
The distant bustle seemed even further away, leaving only the dim yellow lantern light in the pavilion reflecting two figures lost in their own thoughts.
One was full of guilt, not knowing how to comfort the other; the other was deeply mired in the entanglement of reality and illusion, as lost as the road ahead.