The rain poured down on Yongzheng. He closed his eyes and looked up at the night sky, feeling every cold drop of rain falling on his face. He knew that no matter how heavy the rain was, the bloodstains on his hands and clothes would never be cleaned. Even if he washed his hands with Guying's holy water, the blood smeared on his skin couldn't be washed away. Even if he soaked in the bathtub of the Dragon King of East Sea for a thousand years, he would never be able to clean the stains that had been etched into his memory.
The rain washed his face, and Yongzheng continued to take deep breaths, attempting to regain his composure. Then suddenly, he saw the image of the little boy again. He saw Xie Diwei's beautiful, long eyelashes. Xie Diwei's eyes were a little lazy, but it could also be because he was dying.
Xie Diwei looked at Yongzheng with an innocent expression and said, "If you bully me, aren't you afraid your mother will scold at you?"
Yongzheng had always wanted to know why he had been following Xue Horan. Tonight, he finally understood why: Xue Horan has the same eyes as Xie Diwei. Xue Horan's innocence made Yongzheng feel an overwhelming, desperate need to protect him.
He remembered meeting Xue Horan on the dock for the first time; Xue Horan had stared at him with the exact same eyes that Xie Diwei was staring at him with moments before he pushed his sword into the child's heart. He felt that if he could protect Xue Horan to his last breath, he might be able to obtain enough merits to see Xie Diwei for one last time and beg for forgiveness, before the ghosts of the underworld dragged him to be tortured in the eighteenth level of hell.
Yongzheng murmured brokenly, the name a plea for salvation: "Horan… Horan…" His eyes snapped open, haunted by the specter of the little boy, and he forced his aching body to walk in the direction Xue Horan had fled.
Xue Horan hadn't gotten far. The searing pain in his ankle forced him to slow, and fearing that his injured protector wouldn't be able to track him, he began to drag himself forward with a pronounced limp.
The heavy rain was a violent veil, blurring his vision despite his repeated attempts to wipe his eyes clear. Then, through the downpour, he spotted a distant flicker of firelight. He latched onto the hope that it signaled other survivors.
He started limping toward the glow, but as he drew close, he realized it emanated from a small, dry cave sheltering only two people. Even without seeing their faces, the distinct voices confirmed his dread: it was Rao Zhengsheng and Yuan Xiurong. He froze, a shivering, heartbroken silhouette standing just outside the cave's warmth, listening to their conversation.
"Xiurong, you need to shed those soaked outer layers and dry them by the fire," Rao Zhengsheng instructed, his tone laced with protective concern. He looked pointedly away. "Don't be shy. I won't look."
Yuan Xiurong turned her gaze to him, a fragile sadness in her eyes. "Rao Gege, you don't need to close your eyes." Her voice was quiet, full of self-pity. "I know you won't look at me that way, because I am not him."
Rao Zhengsheng raised an eyebrow. "Him? Who are you talking about?"
"Xue Gongzi," she stated simply.
"I know you are not him," Rao Zhengsheng replied, his voice firm, trying to inject rationality into the moment. "I don't want to give anyone cause for gossip."
Yuan Xiurong's sadness gave way to a resentful honesty. "Rao Gege, you are always so formal and decent with me, never daring to cross the line. But when you are with Horan, you are so unguarded, so close."
Rao Zhengsheng sighed, attempting to explain the social divide. "He is a man, and you are a woman. I cannot act toward you in the same way I act toward him."
Yuan Xiurong's envy burst forth. "Rao Gege, honestly, I wish you would treat me like Horan." Her gaze fixed past the burning flame and landed squarely on Rao Zhengsheng. "I envy him terribly. I only hope that the man I like could give me the same affection he has for another person."
Rao Zhengsheng walked over and sat beside Yuan Xiurong, pulling her into his arms. His voice was thick with guilt and affection. "Xiurong, I'm sorry." He kissed her on the forehead, confirming her importance. "In my heart, I love you as much as Horan. You and Horan are both important to me, and I can't live without you or him. If you were not by my side, I would miss you very much. If I don't have Horan, I will miss him greatly. I hope my heart could say that I love you more and choose you, but..."
Yuan Xiurong finished his thought, her voice raw with realization. "But that's a lie, because you have liked Horan since the beginning."
Rao Zhengsheng admitted the truth, but introduced another layer of responsibility. "Xiurong, there is another reason why I can't leave Horan: he is the only child of my Shifu and Shimu. They are like my parents. I would have died in the fire without them. My Shimu loves Horan very much, and if I wronged Horan, then my Shimu will be very upset, and I don't want that."
Yuan Xiurong's tears finally fell. "Rao Gege, did you mean..." Her voice broke. "If I want to be with you, I must accept the fact that Horan will always be your first pick before me?"
Rao Zhengsheng lifted Yuan Xiurong's chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Xiurong, no matter what happens in the future, we are going to get married, and I will marry Horan with you."
Yuan Xiurong presented her final, desperate plea for exclusivity. "Rao Gege, Horan is the first to hold your hand, the first to get your kiss, and most importantly, he is the first in your heart." She looked deeply at Rao Zhengsheng. "Can I be your first? I can accept that I will always be second to Horan in every aspect, but can you at least give me a chance to be your first, because you have always been my first."
Rao Zhengsheng couldn't offer the lie she needed. "Although you are not my first, but I love you like I love Horan."
With that painful, complex compromise laid bare, the conversation ceased. Rao Zhengsheng stretched out his hand and removed Yuan Xiurong's robe to her waist, revealing her white dudou on her chest. He untied the dudou tie, kissed Yuan Xiurong's bare breasts, and stretched his hands toward her belt. Rao Zhengsheng began to untie Yuan Xiurong's belt. He lifted her skirt and pulled down her pants. He began to suck Yuan Xiurong's breasts, and Yuan Xiurong began to moan softly.
After a while, Rao Zhengsheng glanced at the blushing Yuan Xiurong and lowered his head toward hers. He whispered, his voice husky, "I'm going to insert it in. I heard that it might hurt at first." Yuan Xiurong nodded, her eyes closed in tense anticipation.
Standing outside, a lone figure in the torrential rain watched the two figures inside the cave. They were oblivious that someone was there, observing their most intimate moment. Xue Horan kept hoping—praying—that Rao Zhengsheng would retreat, that he would pull away, but Rao Zhengsheng's steady actions dashed what his heart already knew. With each passing second, he still clung to the desperate hope that Rao Zhengsheng would withdraw, but that hope finally shattered when he heard Rao Zhengsheng tell Yuan Xiurong that he was going to insert.
Even though he only saw the two figures indistinctly behind the dry clothes hung by the fire, he saw Rao Zhengsheng's left hand guiding his member into Yuan Xiurong. He heard Yuan Xiurong's initial painful groan, but soon, her bitter cries morphed into soft moans. Rao Zhengsheng began to thrust slowly, continuously kissing Yuan Xiurong's mouth, binding her to the act.
Xue Horan's heart was torn into millions of pieces. He had never suffered such piercing hurt in his entire life. He had just witnessed the man he loved so fiercely, the one who always called him his future husband, making love with another woman—a woman who loved his "future husband" just as much as he did.
Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the relentless rain. He slowly forced his numb legs to carry him away from the small cave. The reality of Rao Zhengsheng and Yuan Xiurong having sex utterly broke his heart. He began running blindly into the depths of the woods, his ankle throbbing, until he suddenly tripped over a root and fell hard to the ground. His clothes were immediately soiled with mud, but he didn't care. He lowered his head, buried his face in his hands, and began to sob loudly, letting out the anguished sound of betrayal and loss.
Xue Horan didn't know how long he had been sobbing, lost in his misery. He didn't realize that anyone was approaching until the person's feet stopped right in front of him. He looked up, his tear-filled eyes focusing on a pair of tore straw shoes planted in the mud. He sat up abruptly and saw Yongzheng kneeling down on one knee.
Overcome by pain and rage, Xue Horan screamed the word that summarized his devastation. "Scram!"
Yongzheng, ignoring the hostility, simply asked, "Are you alright?"
Xue Horan screamed louder, his voice raw. "Scram!" He lunged and pushed Yongzheng's left chest hard, causing the injured Taoist to fall onto the muddy ground. "Scram! Why are you here? Why is it not him who is standing in front of me, but you! Scram!" He sobbed harder, burying his face again. "I don't want you to be the person in front of me. Please scram!" He continued sobbing uncontrollably.
Yongzheng slowly rose from the mud, the effort visible in his exhausted frame, only to immediately sink back down, kneeling on one knee once more. He stared intently at Xue Horan, his gaze unwavering. Even through the deluge of the heavy rain, he clearly saw the continuous flow of Xue Horan's tears mingling with the water on his face.
Yongzheng's voice, usually quiet, was barely a whisper now, thick with empathy and painful honesty. "I'm sorry, I am not him."