Chapter 1213 – Side Story, Valentine’s Day Sweetness (Part 2)
Wei Ci had never practiced martial arts, and the qin musician before him was not someone an ordinary martial artist could easily perceive. Jiang Pengji did not blame him for leading a wolf into the house.
She discreetly put some distance between Wei Ci and the blind qin musician, striding straight to the mat where Wei Ci had been sitting.
“Zixiao, I suddenly remembered I left something at home. Can you help me run back and get it?”
True to her steel-hearted nature, Jiang Pengji’s excuse was as clumsy as a brick through glass.
Before Wei Ci could speak, the blind qin musician suddenly smiled warmly, as if a glacier that had frozen for a thousand years had finally melted, stunningly beautiful.
However, Jiang Pengji wasn’t fooled; not only did she remain on guard but her brows knit more tightly.
Her left hand rested tightly on the hilt of her God-Slaying Blade, her muscles coiled and ready to spring.
“Are you nervous?”
The blind musician in white spoke, his voice lacking the warmth of Wei Ci, instead carrying an indescribable chill.
Hearing the word “nervous,” Jiang Pengji shockingly realized she was sweating profusely.
Who exactly is this person?
As soon as the musician’s words fell, he raised his distinctive fingers to caress the qin’s surface, and though he touched no strings, beautiful music resonated in the air, sending rippling waves across the space. Jiang Pengji, with a swift motion, drew her blade and struck at the man’s vital points, but he did not dodge; the smile on his lips only grew.
Ding—
The once unstoppable God-Slaying Blade seemed to meet something transparent; the clash produced a crisp sound.
She was unharmed, but Wei Ci was affected by the musical waves, his eyelids heavy as if weighed down by lead, sliding down to the floor against the pavilion’s pillar.
Seeing this, Jiang Pengji’s eyes brimmed with danger, revealing a hint of bloodlust.
“Are you looking for death?”
With those three words, she brought the war god blade down once more.
Again, it met an invisible barrier, but this time the barrier cracked under the pressure.
The blade aimed at the neck of the blind musician.
Yet, he didn’t make a move; his form flowed like water, elusive and agile enough to easily dodge the strike.
“You haven’t changed a bit over the years,” the musician commented, “With such a reckless approach, how could I be at ease?”
Upon hearing these words, Jiang Pengji furrowed her brow and halted her attack.
“Who exactly are you?”
The strength displayed by the musician felt far beyond that of anyone from this world, leaving Jiang Pengji puzzled about his identity and intentions. With Wei Ci right beside her, she couldn’t go all out and felt constrained instead—
The musician said, “Don’t you remember?”
Jiang Pengji laughed in anger, “Should I remember who you are?”
He cradled the qin against his chest and waved his hand before his face; a white cloth three fingers wide dissipated into specks of light. When the cloth vanished, Jiang Pengji realized the man wasn’t blind at all—his eyes were actually deeper and brighter than an ordinary person’s.
“You are—”
As she gazed at his face, a surreal image floated before her eyes, and she felt a strange sense of familiarity.
“Still haven’t pieced it together?”
With that, the qin in his arms transformed into a long sword, which he slung over his back.
Jiang Pengji felt as if struck by lightning; the material of this sword was unmistakably from the same source as her God-Slaying Blade!
“You’re the one who gifted me the God-Slaying Blade?”
The musician chuckled, “Is that all you’ve remembered?”
Jiang Pengji stood beside the qin stand, her right hand gripping the hilt of the God-Slaying Blade tightly, her gaze unwavering on the musician in white.
No, she should say he’s a white-clad swordsman.
“Pengji, you did well.” He smiled softly, “The Heavenly Brain is incredibly cunning and powerful. Although I killed its corporeal form back then, part of it managed to escape. For two thousand years, it has plagued hundreds of lower realms; this menace has grown quite substantial…”
Two lifetimes?
Did well?
Jiang Pengji felt dazed, as if struck by lightning.
What two lifetimes?
She stood frozen in place.
Deep within her memory lay a treasure chest, and the man’s voice was the only key to unlock it.
In an instant, a flood of memories surged forth.
Jiang Pengji gasped in pain, kneeling with her sword in hand, heavy breath accompanied by a cold sweat.
In her muddled consciousness, she seemed to see another person appearing from thin air beside her—a woman clad in white.
“Is it really okay to let her recover her memory now?” the woman questioned the white-clad swordsman.
He took the woman’s delicate hand, their palms pressed together.
“We can’t remain in this realm too long; we still need to imprison that menace to avoid prolonged troubles… The sooner we help Pengji recover her memory and recall the past, the easier it will be for both of us. Once she resolves this matter, there are still plenty of tasks waiting for her on the Federation’s side.”
The woman remained eerily silent for a moment.
“She just drew her sword against you—is it wise to let her regain her memory?”
The man replied, “Her body is merely mortal flesh; she won’t be able to harm me.”
Realizing the two were leaving, Jiang Pengji allowed herself to be overwhelmed by the torrent of memories and collapsed on the ground, unconscious.
Though it was called a faint, in truth, it didn’t last long.
Jiang Pengji opened her eyes expressionless, sitting up suddenly, the God-Slaying Blade casually tossed aside.
She turned to glance at Wei Ci, taking a moment to ensure she wasn’t mistaken before pulling him into her arms, as if holding onto a treasure that had been lost and found again.
Looking around, the pond’s surface reflected shimmering lights, bright enough to sting her eyes.
She recalled many things; in her dreams, she had transformed into another “Jiang Pengji,” battling from banditry to an imperial throne.
What seemed like a successful life was riddled with endless regrets.
Taking a gamble to start over had strangely paid off.
Even knowing both lifetimes were crafted by that pair of characters, she could not harbor resentment. With the Heavenly Brain still posing a threat, as the commander of the seventh legion, she bore the responsibility to protect the Federation, a duty she could not shirk. Not only to trap and subdue the Heavenly Brain, even if it required her life, she wouldn’t hesitate.
Jiang Pengji rubbed her weary brow, gathering her strength before picking Wei Ci up horizontally and leaving the pavilion.
The place was heavy with dampness and malevolence, uncomfortable for Wei Ci to linger in.
Unbeknownst to her, Wei Ci’s chronic cold had improved significantly; his current condition was far better than in his past life.
Wei Ci awoke in a haze of warmth.
As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw someone using all limbs to enclose him in a hug; the room was heated with coal, and four or five thick blankets were piled on the bed.
This familiar situation—
“Lan Ting, can you loosen up a bit—”
If he didn’t get space, he might suffocate.
“Oh…”
Jiang Pengji reluctantly relaxed her grip.
“What are you doing here?” Wei Ci asked, puzzled.
Jiang Pengji raised an eyebrow, “Don’t you remember?”
After thinking for a moment, Wei Ci shook his head, troubled; he genuinely couldn’t recall.
Jiang Pengji quickly explained, “A few days ago, you caught a cold and had a fever for several days.”
Wei Ci instinctively felt something was off, but he couldn’t grasp his recent memories, as if they were shrouded in white gauze, obscured and unclear.
Perhaps—
He really had been muddled by illness.
“Your Majesty isn’t returning to the palace to sleep? If you catch my illness, it won’t do at all—”
Jiang Pengji sprawled across the bed like a pancake, taking up most of the space.
“I’m not leaving; I can’t sleep without you beside me. I keep dreaming you were taken away by some nonsense qin musician—”
Wei Ci chuckled softly, “Then I won’t leave, but I’m still sick. Bring me another blanket.”
Jiang Pengji pouted and rolled over, gazing fixedly at Wei Ci.
In her past life, Wei Ci had been distant, gentle, cautious, always maintaining his reason intact, feelings buried deep.
Now, he was different, his features free of gloom, exuding a comforting calmness and warmth.
This was the true Wei Ci.
Everything was as perfect as she had ever imagined.
Jiang Pengji rolled over again, reaching out to Wei Ci.
“No, Pengji wants Zixiao to give her hugs.”
“Your Majesty isn’t a three-year-old; please don’t act silly. You might catch a cold again.”
Wei Ci patiently smiled as he tried to persuade her.
Jiang Pengji squirmed like a little worm, wriggling closer to Wei Ci.
Seizing the opportunity, she stretched her arms and rolled him over, covering herself with a blanket.
The room was filled with a warm, spring glow, and soon the air was filled with slightly embarrassing sounds.
