Returning to his spacious room, Xie Yan allowed himself a barely noticeable smirk. This common stereotypical setup of the initial plot, where the main character appears insignificant, played right into his hands.
A little pressure, a pinch of fear — and Xia Qingyue had taken the first step towards betrayal herself.
He knew human nature too well not to exploit this weakness.
«This will earn me quite a few points…» - Xie Yan thought, watching as the crack between the hero and heroine grew inexorably. The rift was inevitable, like two stars doomed to eternal divergence along their separate orbits.
The fifth stage of the поединков had come to an end. Xiao Chen shone like a star ascending in the battle sky. Each of his opponents was defeated with just a few strikes — precise, swift, and inevitable, like a decree of fate.
The spectators gathered in the arena could not hide their admiration. If before they had mocked him because of his too low cultivation level, now it was shock mixed with reverent awe.
Whispers ran through the rows like wind through leaves.
- How could this be?
- His strength… It grows with every fight…
- This young man is a true genius!
Admiring exclamations could be heard.
Xiao Chen stood in the center of the arena, his eyes radiating calm confidence, a slight smile playing on his lips. He knew that this day would change everything — alter the attitudes of those around him, change his destiny.
«Master, do you think it's possible that tonight I'll be sharing Xia Qingyue's bed?» - he asked, a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty in his voice.
In an unknown space where rivers flowed like liquid jade and mountains floated in the skies like broken fragments of stars, a different reality reigned.
The air shimmered with a pearlescent haze, and the trees, covered with leaves the color of moonlit silver, rustled in the wind, as if whispering in the forgotten language of the gods.
At the top of a cliff whose contours resembled the claw of an ancient dragon, a girl sat. Her legs were crossed in a lotus position, and her fingers, delicate and graceful, formed an enigmatic mudra. Her skin gleamed with porcelain paleness, as if she had absorbed the light of distant constellations, and her hair — black as the abyss between worlds — flowed down her shoulders, intertwining with the swirling demonic energy around her.
This energy pulsed like a living being: shadows clung to her body, sometimes taking the form of hissing serpents, sometimes scattering into myriad characters written in blood-crimson flame.
Her eyes, narrow and piercing, glowed crimson — two diamonds smoldering in the ashes of the night. On her forehead shone a mark: a black lotus with petals carved with runes that rotated slowly, like cogs of an invisible mechanism.
Her attire shimmered with shades of night — silk woven from shadows and stardust. Ghostly lights danced around her: blue as glacial depths and crimson as a fresh wound.
Even the air obeyed her here — space warped around, like a mirror cracked by her presence.
Hearing Xiao Chen's question, the woman was momentarily speechless. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted, as if she was trying to find the right words, but they got stuck somewhere in her throat.
She slowly raised her hand, touching her temple, her fingers trembling slightly as if trying to gather scattered thoughts.
Finally, she spoke, and her voice carried a clear, contemptuous mockery:
«Are you seriously asking me this question?» - she said, her voice cold as ice. - «Do you think everything in this world can be obtained with the snap of a finger? Especially when it comes to… such things?»
Her eyes, usually blazing with crimson fire, now looked at him with obvious contempt. The shadows around her moved again, forming figures resembling dancing demons that seemed to mock his naivety.
«Don't build illusions» - she added. - «The path to what you desire is rarely simple».
Her words carried not only mockery but also a slight note of superiority, as if she was looking down on him from the height of her experience and wisdom.
Xiao Chen seemed oblivious to the woman's contemptuous tone. A self-assured smile spread across his lips, and sparkles of self-satisfaction danced in his eyes.
«I'm sure she can't wait to fall into my arms», - he said with unconcealed pride. - «Why do you think, among so many young talents from the academy, she chose me?»
His voice sounded so self-confident that it seemed he had started to believe his own words. There was something naive in this self-assurance, like a child convinced of his own rightness.
He straightened his shoulders like a peacock displaying its feathers and added:
«Feel it? Destiny is in the air. It is leading us to each other».
His words carried an unshakable belief in his own charisma, so much so that even his hardened, skeptical собеседница was momentarily taken aback by his self-assurance.
She was stunned by his words. Her eyebrows rose slightly, and her eyes widened in genuine amazement. For the first time in her long life, she had seen someone delude themselves so profoundly in their own illusions.
«Are you really that blind?» - she thought. - «Or have you simply convinced yourself of your own rightness to the point where you no longer see reality?»
«Moreover, I just received a flask of water from Xia Qingyue» - Xiao Chen insisted, genuine confidence in his voice. - «Would she show such sincere care if she didn't worry about me?»
The woman remained silent, observing him, her face expressionless. Finally, she spoke slowly:
«Simple courtesy, nothing more. Sharing resources is common in the cultivator world. Especially during training».
But Xiao Chen no longer heard her arguments. In his imagination, the flask of water had transformed into a symbol of something greater — a sign of attention and care.
«No» - he shook his head. - «You just don't understand. There was something special in the way she handed me the flask…»
His voice grew softer, as if he were sharing a sacred secret.
Soon, he drank the contents of the flask without a moment's hesitation. The water was cool and fresh, like a mountain spring after a long thirst. Xiao Chen felt the life-giving liquid spreading through his body, imbuing him with strength and vigor.
His gaze momentarily clouded, and something sinister flashed in the depths of his pupils — a green flame resembling the reflection of ancient magic. Sparks of this strange light flickered in his eyes, like harbingers of something dark and powerful.
But neither he himself, consumed by his dreams and hopes, nor the woman watching him noticed this alarming sign. They were too engrossed in their thoughts and conversation to pay attention to this fleeting metamorphosis.
The green fire in his eyes extinguished as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving behind only a faint aftertaste of anxiety in the air.
*****
Sorrow's Embrace:
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