A Sleepless Farewell

They would depart in seven days.

Despite Gu Yan’s earnest assurances, Su Xiaoxiao did not truly heed her words. She was utterly exhausted. Upon awakening, she discovered that the restraints on her limbs had been inexplicably loosened.

Though she hadn’t abandoned her desire for death, every sharp object capable of inflicting harm had been meticulously cleared from the room. Even the corners of tables were padded with soft cloth, preventing any potential injury.

Gu Yan visited the small courtyard several times a day, seemingly fearing Su Xiaoxiao might still attempt something dangerous. Like an anxious mother, she would frequently remind her, “I’ve made all the arrangements. For now, you must be patient. I swear I will lead you away from here.”

It wasn’t that Su Xiaoxiao placed much faith in these promises; her interest had waned. Yet, confined to the bedchamber, what recourse did she truly have?

For Su Xiaoxiao, those seven days stretched into an eternity. Thankfully, throughout this period, she did not encounter Xiyue’s return.

Indeed, with a great war on the verge of erupting, it was a critical juncture. Xiyue was likely preoccupied with her own machinations.

Su Xiaoxiao had found no restful sleep these past few days. Her appetite had dwindled, allowing her to consume very little. The prominent bulge of her abdomen felt extraordinarily conspicuous, and while the little fish within continued its steady growth, its vitality had lessened. Nevertheless, its presence remained a significant source of torment for Su Xiaoxiao.

Movement had become arduous for her; even turning in bed required considerable effort. Her lower back, burdened beyond its capacity, constantly throbbed with unbearable pain. Each day, her thighs and calves were seized by cramps, so excruciating they made her eyes swim with stars and brought cold sweat beading on her brow.

Her heart was too heavy with anxieties, and with such turmoil festering within, sleep became an elusive comfort.

Tomorrow marked the day Gu Yan had promised their departure. Su Xiaoxiao lay upon the bed, her hand gently resting on her swollen belly. Within, the little fish stirred, nudging against her palm as if offering a silent greeting.

This only deepened Su Xiaoxiao’s already complicated emotions. How could she, in her current cumbersome state, hope to slip away from the Demon Tribe’s territory unnoticed, right under Xiyue’s watchful gaze?

If discovered, she would only implicate Yan Yan. Given Xiyue’s brutal and vicious nature, if Yan Yan were to incur her wrath on Su Xiaoxiao’s behalf and lose her life, wouldn’t the weight of Su Xiaoxiao’s own sins become immeasurably heavier?

Her heart heavy with conflicting emotions, she braced herself for yet another night of sleeplessness. However, before long, a faint, delicate fragrance wafted towards her. It was reminiscent of the begonia blossoms in the courtyard, carried gently on the breeze—subtle, barely discernible, yet imbued with a hint of sweetness.

Soon, Su Xiaoxiao felt her body grow light, as if she were drifting among the clouds, enveloped by soft, ethereal white wisps.

An overwhelming weariness prevented Su Xiaoxiao from opening her eyes, yet in her hazy state, she sensed something drawing near.

She seemed to discern a voice speaking, hushed and incredibly soft, its cadence profoundly gentle.

Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy, refusing to open. She strained her ears, listening intently, yet the words remained indistinct, frustratingly out of reach.

The voice continued its soft murmur, and then Su Xiaoxiao felt a pair of cool, delicate hands gently settle upon her cheek. Their fingertips brushed lightly against her eyelids.

Su Xiaoxiao’s consciousness drifted in and out, and given the exquisite gentleness of the touch, she found herself devoid of fear or dread.

Those hands grazed her eyelids, then tenderly massaged her brow, before slowly tracing a path downward, past the bridge of her nose, and finally lingering for an extended moment upon her lips.

The sensation of those caresses was too vivid for Su Xiaoxiao to dismiss. She could not discern whether she was ensnared in a dream or trapped within an illusion.

Though her eyes remained shut, she began to struggle fiercely within the cloud-like embrace, desperately striving to regain full consciousness.

Su Xiaoxiao felt herself thrashing wildly with both hands and feet, yet in reality, while she could move and had broken free from her physical restraints, she remained ensnared by this presence. Xiyue, hearing the slight twitch of her fingers, softly hummed twice, a faint frown creasing her brow, her voice laced with profound grievance.

Xiyue’s hand remained gently cupped against Su Xiaoxiao’s delicate lips. In the enveloping darkness, Xiyue’s eyes glowed a vibrant crimson. Bathed in moonlight, she gazed with rapt adoration at Su Xiaoxiao’s face for a long moment before finally leaning down, pressing her own lips against Su Xiaoxiao’s.

Strands of hair intertwined, fingers clasped tightly together.

Su Xiaoxiao felt something cool settle upon her lips, then, as if insatiable, it slowly pressed inward, making her breathing grow increasingly labored.

Still, her eyes remained stubbornly shut. This profound sense of helplessness and discomfort brought tears of profound grievance to her eyes.

A soft whimper escaped her lips.

Upon hearing Su Xiaoxiao’s soft sobs, Xiyue’s eyes snapped open as if roused from a deep dream. Still, she found herself unable to release her embrace. Only when a distinct dampness registered against her tightly pressed cheek did she realize that Su Xiaoxiao had silently begun to weep.

Xiyue quickly sat up, her movements frantic as she used her free hand to gently wipe away Su Xiaoxiao’s tears. Her head bowed, she murmured, as if lost in bewilderment, “To be touched by me, even in slumber, does it truly cause such profound distress?”

Xiyue settled onto the edge of the bed. Apart from her hand clasped around Su Xiaoxiao’s, she remained utterly still, simply watching her with an intense, meticulous gaze.

As she meticulously recalled their acquaintance, from the moment they had met, she found no truly joyful memories. All that came to mind, beyond the torment, were tears and anguish.

It was little wonder Su Xiaoxiao’s heart had grown so cold. Even the Mermaid’s inherent nature, which cherished boundless freedom, had been subverted, now desiring only death for herself and her child.

Xiyue remained by her side in silent communion. Su Xiaoxiao slept soundly in the bed, while Xiyue sat on the edge, watching her with unwavering stillness. It was only as the sky began to lighten with the approach of dawn that Xiyue slowly regained her composure.

As if a lingering unease gripped her, Xiyue gently lifted Su Xiaoxiao’s sleeve, carefully examining the red jade bangle that remained on her left wrist. The matching one on her right had shattered during the fall into the river, sacrificed to protect Su Xiaoxiao.

Xiyue felt a pang of helplessness; she could not procure another pair for Su Xiaoxiao. She knew, too, that she could no longer offer a single replacement herself. Her only hope was that the solitary remaining bangle would safeguard her well.

After inspecting her wrists, Xiyue moved to her ankles. She gently held Su Xiaoxiao’s delicate ankle, caressing it for a moment before finally, reluctantly, releasing her touch.

“Xiaoxiao…” Xiyue whispered her name softly.

As the eastern sky grew increasingly bright, Xiyue finally released her, rising to depart. She went to where Gu Yan was located, observing the numerous bags and bundles piled around her. Xiyue merely stated:

Gu Yan, noting her arrival, offered a brief glance before resuming her meticulous packing.

“Do you intend to clear out every single item from this entire dwelling?”

Without pausing her actions, Gu Yan replied with a cool nonchalance, “You won’t hinder our departure, so what harm is there in taking a little extra? These, after all, are my cherished possessions.”

Xiyue paused for a moment. “I do not wish for her to believe that I willingly permitted your departure.”

‘If only you had felt this way sooner,’ Gu Yan rolled her eyes internally, ‘we wouldn’t have descended to such a predicament.’

Yet, she dared not voice these thoughts aloud, confining them to her mind. Rather than directly answering Xiyue’s inquiry, she deftly changed the subject. “Did you bid her farewell last night?” she asked instead.

“In a manner of speaking,” Xiyue replied.

As Gu Yan finished gathering her belongings and prepared to depart, Xiyue spoke with an unusual solemnity. “Take good care of her,” she instructed.

“I will,” Gu Yan affirmed. “But you, too, must take great care of yourself. The Heavenly Tribulation is imminent, and my aid can only extend so far.” Gu Yan’s emotions were a tangled knot. She and Xiyue—one a demon, the other a ghost—were hardly paragons of virtue, yet here they were, behaving with the very indecisiveness and sentimentality of mere mortals.

“Strive to survive, if you can.”

This was Gu Yan’s final message to Xiyue as she departed.