The Weight of Unspoken Farewells

Jiang Jinyue’s beautiful brows subtly arched.

“Are you truly unharmed?” she asked.

“In such a short time… you merely glanced and came out?”

Mo Tingbei naturally perceived the teasing in her voice.

Lin Xiaoxiao’s persistence towards him was not difficult to discern, and Jiang Jinyue had, in truth, always harbored reservations about it.

Mo Tingbei, for his part, didn’t particularly care.

He would not allow them to cross the line, at least not yet…

Suddenly, Mo Tingbei recalled Jiang Jinyue’s kiss.

His previously resolute mood instantly plummeted.

‘Had he truly failed to escape?’

He lifted his eyes, meeting Jiang Jinyue’s gaze squarely.

Her eyes were serene, even hinting at a subtle indulgence.

Yet, for the first time, Mo Tingbei found himself hesitant to look into them.

The delicate veil of unspoken understanding between them had been actively torn by her not long ago.

His long-standing self-deception now caused an inexplicable surge of guilt within Mo Tingbei.

He subtly averted his gaze, his reply skirting around the subtle probe hidden within Jiang Jinyue’s words.

“There was no serious issue to begin with, so there’s naturally no need for excessive concern,” he stated.

“After all, men and women should keep their distance, not touch each other intimately.”

A flicker of danger crossed Jiang Jinyue’s eyes, but she quickly suppressed it.

‘Senior Brother was always like this.’

‘He feigned ignorance to everyone’s hints, as if no one would be hurt so long as the truth remained unacknowledged…’

‘But they all owed him, and no matter how their heartfelt adoration surged within, they were unwilling to take another step forward openly, simply because he disapproved.’

Now, however, Jiang Jinyue had come to a realization.

‘With a heart utterly devoid of falsehood, why should she be so reserved?’

Jiang Jinyue slowly approached him.

“Yue’er,” Mo Tingbei’s voice deepened slightly, carrying a hint of warning that even he barely registered.

His heart was still in turmoil.

He was not made of stone.

Even though the profound detachment in his soul had always prevented him from truly integrating into this world, making him unwilling and afraid to grow too close to them, over time, he would inevitably waver.

Until that kiss, not long ago.

The final veil between him and her had been torn.

At this moment, Mo Tingbei, instead of resembling a peerless Sword Venerable who commanded respect across the land, seemed more like a naive youth, awkwardly parrying this sudden intimacy.

She stopped before Mo Tingbei, tilting her head back to look at him.

The distance between them was so slight that they could feel each other’s breath.

Beneath the moonlight, the faint, cool plum blossom fragrance emanating from her grew ever clearer.

“Senior Brother is always like this,” she whispered, her voice so low that only the two of them could hear.

“Pushing everyone away, do you truly believe you can find peace that way?”

“You may be magnanimous and clear-conscienced, but have you ever considered my feelings?”

Mo Tingbei fell silent for a moment.

Jiang Jinyue, however, paid no mind to his silence.

She took another step closer, her petite form beneath the plain white Daoist robe now imprinted its warmth upon him.

“Senior Brother, do you know,” her voice softened even further, almost melting into the moonlight, “that kiss today… was no fleeting impulse.”

Mo Tingbei’s fingertips trembled almost imperceptibly.

He naturally understood what she meant.

That sudden kiss, a kiss utterly devoid of lingering tenderness, had almost made him believe it was a final farewell.

At this moment, the resolute coldness of that kiss seemed to return to his lips.

He lowered his gaze, observing her subtly trembling eyelashes cast a small shadow in the moonlight.

In those eyes, usually as serene and cold as an icy lake, now shimmered a soft, fragile light he rarely witnessed.

He longed to embrace her, to offer comfort.

But he could not.

This was not born of indifference.

His life was nearing its end, while Jiang Jinyue, having now attained the Golden Core, possessed an immeasurable lifespan.

This cruel limitation of his lifespan alone rendered him unable to respond.

What’s more…

This mortal vessel was born of his parents’ blood and bone.

Though his entire being had never been rejected by the Heavenly Dao of this world, a lingering, extravagant hope always resided in his heart: to return to a home where a warm meal would perpetually await him.

Were it not for this, he would not have suddenly lost his drive, severing his own path in exchange for one final burst of glory.

Achieving Dao in the mortal realm was indeed difficult, yet when had Mo Tingbei, in his entire life, ever feared hardships and perils?

Truly… he was simply weary.

He opened his mouth, but no words escaped him.

Jiang Jinyue did not reach out to embrace him as she usually would.

Mo Tingbei knew she yearned for an answer.

But he could not provide one.

Not even a perfunctory agreement.

Ye Jinghuang had retreated into her room, closing the door softly as she secretly observed the two of them.

Jiang Jinyue gazed at the profound weariness and detachment hidden deep within his eyes, the resolute words swirling on her tongue, but ultimately left unsaid.

She suddenly took half a step back, the resolve that had almost left Mo Tingbei helpless quietly receding, transforming her back into the poised and serene Jiang Jinyue.

“Senior Brother, there’s no need to be troubled,” she murmured, her voice devoid of discernible emotion.

“I am not trying to force any promises from you.”

Moonlight spilled across her delicate profile, casting a faint shadow.

Her gaze swept over Mo Tingbei’s hair, now completely devoid of its original dark hue; all his toil and sacrifice seemed to have crystallized into those silvery strands.

“I only wish for Senior Brother to understand,” she continued, her tone calm, “that no matter what path you choose, there will always be someone waiting for you.”

These words were spoken lightly, yet they caused Mo Tingbei’s heart to tighten.

He knew Jiang Jinyue’s nature too well; behind these seemingly yielding words lay a fiercely persistent determination.

Jiang Jinyue’s fingertips unconsciously caressed a jade slip concealed within her sleeve—a forbidden secret technique for reversing life and death, which she had just retrieved from a long-sealed repository of forbidden arts.

This notion she had never mentioned to anyone, and even she herself often found it absurd.

Yet, each time she observed Mo Tingbei’s increasingly fading aura, this wild idea grew ever clearer.

She knew Ye Jinghuang was peeking from the room, knew Lin Xiaoxiao was muttering ‘Master’ in her dreams, and knew that the women who admired Mo Tingbei in this world were far from just the three of them.

But at this moment, she suddenly ceased to care about any of it.

She took a few more steps back, settling at a distance where she could look into Mo Tingbei’s eyes with just a slight tilt of her head.

“Senior Brother, if you’re tired, you should rest,” she suddenly changed the topic, her tone light.

“Tomorrow, you still have to deal with those fellows from the Immortal Alliance. If any oversight occurs tomorrow due to lack of rest, I cannot bear that responsibility.”

Mo Tingbei gazed at her, utterly stunned, momentarily at a loss for how to respond.

All his excuses, all his pretexts, transformed into a deeper sense of guilt… and resolute finality in the face of her sudden tenderness.

After a moment of silence, he finally gave a soft affirmation.

“No matter. Everything for tomorrow has already been arranged.”

Jiang Jinyue nodded slightly, turned as if to leave, but then paused.

Without turning back, she simply murmured, “No matter what path Senior Brother chooses, please remember… there is at least one person who will always wait for you.”

An inexplicable pang struck Mo Tingbei’s heart, and words of retention almost escaped him, but he swallowed them back down.

Perhaps, before making that choice, even if he possessed not a shred of cultivation, he would have unhesitatingly embraced and kissed her.

But now, he had no right.

“If it is possible, forget me.”

His words were so soft they were almost inaudible, as if they might vanish into the wind with the moonlight at any moment.

Yet, both of them understood.

Jiang Jinyue’s shoulders trembled slightly.

Her steps suddenly quickened, and like a wisp of smoke, she vanished into the night.

Behind the room door, Ye Jinghuang collapsed to the ground, covering her mouth, having lost even the strength to cry.

Mo Tingbei stood in the courtyard, his gaze fixed vaguely on the boundless mountains, lost in thought.

Only when the moon reached its zenith did he finally retire.