“But you’re too cold-blooded,” Zhi Yue muttered softly.
“When I took this position, I swore to defend my country with my life, prioritizing national interests above all else. I offered my heart for it,” Bai Cha’s voice was as calm as ever, betraying no hint of joy or sorrow. “This is the most basic tenet of the Shadow faction. The World Championship falls under my purview, and during this time, you must also adhere to this oath. If you have any objections, withdraw from the competition.”
Zhi Yue lowered her head, not daring to speak further. Gu Zi Tan also remained silent, the two of them standing like erring students before their homeroom teacher, meek and submissive.
Bai Cha observed them for a while, sighed, and waved her hand, looking a little weary. “You two go back and rest. I’m giving you three days to adjust your mindset.”
“The rest of you, continue,” Bai Cha looked up, gesturing to the stunned and silenced crowd. Her expression was serene, as if nothing had just happened.
The training resumed. Everyone acted as if the incident never occurred. In truth, they had long grown accustomed to separating training from grief. Sacrifices within the Shadow faction were not uncommon, and they had already developed sufficient mental fortitude.
In the corridor, Zhi Yue and Gu Zi Tan walked side by side, both in low spirits. Zhi Yue was down because of Cang Liu, and Gu Zi Tan because of Gu Ming Ze.
Not long ago, they had been teaching the two of them to swim, one after the other. Despite a hint of impatience, the atmosphere hadn’t been particularly bad. But how much time had passed since then?
A companion was gone, the person she liked had sacrificed themselves, her brother was missing. Suddenly, everything had changed, leaving no time for anyone to process it.
“Sometimes, I think you’re not really a man. No matter how much Bai Cha scolds you, you always remain silent.” Just as Zhi Yue was about to enter her room, she turned back to Gu Zi Tan and said, “Actually, you’ve always been like this. Whether it’s Bai Cha or anyone else in the outside world, no matter who is right or wrong, you always remain silent.”
“I am neutral. How can I take sides so easily?” Gu Zi Tan gave a wry smile.
“I think you’re more like a fence-sitter, without any principles,” Zhi Yue scoffed. “When the Shadow faction suffered a blow, you remained silent. When the Light faction was suppressed, you were also silent. What’s the difference between that and tacit approval?”
“But I can’t support either of your sides, can I?” Gu Zi Tan frowned, displeased that Zhi Yue was redirecting her anger towards him. “Why are you always so fiery?”
“Yes, my temper is always like this, but that’s just who I am. Whoever I support, I will stand by them without hesitation. Frankly, we are just sticking to our principles and bottom lines, while you have none.” Zhi Yue’s words seemed to carry a gritted-teeth edge. For some reason, her anger and sorrow had reached their peak, yet the more this was the case, the clearer her mind became, and her speech was more coherent than before.
“You have no principles, you’re not even as good as your brother in that regard!”
“What exactly do you want to say?” Gu Zi Tan was also growing angry. He had been in a very bad mood lately, a significant part of which was due to Gu Ming Ze and Bai Cha’s words. Now Zhi Yue was bringing it up again, practically leaping onto his trigger points.
Perhaps, deep down, Gu Zi Tan had never truly believed Gu Ming Ze was superior to him. Even if he had come to accept Gu Ming Ze, it didn’t mean everyone could say he was inferior to Gu Ming Ze.
From childhood to adulthood, in social interactions, in academics—in what aspect wasn’t he a thousand times better than Gu Ming Ze? Yet now, it seemed everyone around him, except his parents, was criticizing him, pointing out his flaws.
All of this had nothing to do with him. Why was everyone pointing fingers at him, saying he was inferior to Gu Ming Ze?
“I don’t know if he’s stronger than you in terms of ability, but I know he has his own principles and bottom lines. At least he won’t choose to remain neutral like you, regardless of fairness,” Zhi Yue said with a cold snort.
“Don’t think that not doing evil makes you a good person. In my eyes, you are just as disgusting as those scheming people from the Light faction. By choosing silence in the face of injustice, you have betrayed the swords in your hands. You are all accomplices in sin.”
“Just like I am an accomplice in Cang Liu’s death.”
“I…” Gu Zi Tan wanted to say something, but Zhi Yue slammed the door shut with a “bang.” After a moment of silence, Gu Zi Tan also closed his door with a grim expression.
He didn’t understand why everyone had started saying Gu Ming Ze was better than him. Gu Ming Ze, whom he used to look down upon, and whose parents and teachers had constantly reminded him not to emulate.
Because Gu Ming Ze was a bad kid, unmotivated, and useless—a leech wasting family resources, forever unable to give back, only engaging in lowly acts that brought no honor to the family.
But why had it suddenly changed?
No, Gu Ming Ze was his brother. He used to look down on Gu Ming Ze, which meant he had never truly respected him?
Gu Zi Tan’s hand on the doorknob suddenly went limp, and a cold sweat broke out on his back. He realized with a jolt that he had never considered this question.
When he had proactively tried to get closer to Gu Ming Ze, to ease their brotherly relationship, what had he truly been thinking? Perhaps he had seen it as a form of condescension towards Gu Ming Ze?
“Seeing as you’re doing so well now, I don’t want to strain our brotherly relationship, so I’ve come to reconcile. Please accept it.”
Suddenly being confronted by Zhi Yue seemed to jolt Gu Zi Tan awake. It was as if a large stone had been dropped from a dream, waking him up and leaving him dizzy.
So, Gu Ming Ze had seen through it, and had never accepted him from the beginning…
Zhi Yue closed the door and sank to the floor, leaning against it.
She didn’t want to move. She was suddenly so tired.
She had always been firm in her beliefs, trusting her parents and believing in absolute light and correctness. For this, she had been disciplined by Bai Cha numerous times, almost to the point of developing a psychological shadow. Even after her relationship with Bai Cha had eased, she still harbored a strong prejudice against the Shadow faction.
But this time, she felt as if she had suddenly perceived something, perceived a truth she had been trying to avoid.
Zhi Yue didn’t know how to face her future life, or even how to go back. The wavering of her beliefs made her unable to face her own faction and family, while her indirect role in the death of the person she liked made her unable to face the Shadow faction. It felt as if she suddenly had nowhere to go.
Zhi Yue sat there for a long time. The floor was cold, but her heart was colder. She felt as if it were all a dream.
Perhaps if she just went to bed and slept soundly, she would wake up tomorrow to see that ice-cold face on the other side of the door pushing it open to the training grounds. She could then wait for his usual departure times and engineer a “chance encounter,” even if he remained indifferent to her, she could still happily pursue him.
But now, it seemed everything was different. The door opposite would never open again. The departure times and encounter locations she had memorized by heart had suddenly lost their meaning and purpose. Zhi Yue felt an emptiness in her heart, even a sense of confusion.
“If you want to cry, it’s best to sit on the bed,” a clear, cool voice, like moonlight, made Zhi Yue shiver and wake up. Looking up, she saw a blurry silhouette through her tear-misted eyes.
“If you’re tired from crying, you can sleep. Even a Dragon Knight can easily get sick sleeping on the floor.”
The voice was familiar yet cool, unexpectedly carrying a gentleness. In a daze, Zhi Yue felt as if she had returned to the time before everything had changed, when she had first trained with Bai Cha. Bai Cha had similarly teased her gently while adjusting the gravity rings on her arms, calmly and patiently asking if she wanted the same weight as the others.
Even though she had been incredibly defiant back then, like a rebellious rooster.
Tears blurred the silhouette. The shadow on the windowsill, softened by the moonlight, seemed as distant as the boundary between heaven and earth, then became clear again. An angel descended from heaven, accompanied by the warm sensation of tears sliding down her cheek. The moonlight was the angel’s wings, and the silhouette became distinct.
She’s so beautiful.
Zhi Yue curled into a ball, thinking silently, not daring to look up. The pride that had made her as untamed as a rooster suddenly gave way to a creeping sense of inferiority.
Beautiful, good-tempered, and so powerful. It was only right that she couldn’t compare to Bai Cha.
Zhi Yue roughly wiped her eyes, stubbornly holding back her tears.
A stack of papers was handed to her. Zhi Yue stubbornly turned her face away, refusing to accept them.
She felt utterly embarrassed to be crying in front of someone she disliked, a love rival. Bai Cha was also at fault, barging into someone’s room like this, just as she always liked to barge into people’s hearts, suddenly occupying a place in their minds.
It made her so angry. She clearly hated Bai Cha immensely, so why couldn’t she bring herself to hate her? And why did she end up crying in front of Bai Cha?
“Boo-hoo…” Zhi Yue sobbed, trying her best not to be so shameful. But for some reason, she felt as wronged as a child seeing their mother.
“I’m sorry.”
“No! I… Huh?” Zhi Yue, expecting Bai Cha to try and persuade her to sleep on the bed again, froze as her defiant refusal left her lips.
The person in the moonlight looked sincere.
Or rather, she had always been like this, direct and without any pretense.
Her peach blossom eyes always seemed as clear as if they had been washed by water, showing no impurities. Just like now, she was staring directly at her, her apology equally unreserved.
“I won’t accept your apology…” Zhi Yue pursed her lips. Her mouth was still defiant and stubborn, but her eyes were filling with water, overflowing uncontrollably.
Zhi Yue finally couldn’t help but curl up on the floor, burying her head in her knees, and whimpered softly, “How can you be so cunning?”
She was super angry and super sad. Why did Bai Cha have to apologize, making it impossible for her to even stay angry?
She was so angry. She should have gotten up immediately and hit Bai Cha, or yelled at her.
“I’m sorry,” Bai Cha walked closer to Zhi Yue. Zhi Yue had always been so proud and arrogant, but seeing her so vulnerable this time instilled a deeper sense of guilt in Bai Cha’s heart. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you all.”
“Don’t think I’ll forgive you just because you apologize. I really hate you,” Zhi Yue snorted, wiping her tears. “Besides, I wasn’t injured. You failed to protect him, what does that have to do with me? Don’t include me in this.”
“You cried. You are very sad,” Bai Cha said faintly after a moment of silence. She wasn’t good at comforting people, so she could only rack her brains to phrase the facts more tactfully. “Because I failed to protect him, you are very sad. Therefore, I also failed to protect you, and I must apologize to you.”
The words were a little convoluted and strange, but Zhi Yue’s mind, for once, worked exceptionally well, and she understood Bai Cha’s meaning. As she listened, she couldn’t help but laugh through her tears. Crying and laughing at the same time, Zhi Yue herself didn’t know what she was thinking.