Chapter Fifty-Two: I Will No Longer Show You Mercy

Feng Xiao Li listened, her heart filled with a barely restrained hatred, teeth clenched as she eyed Zi Lin suspiciously. She chose to ignore his ridiculous, comical appearance, uncertain what he was babbling about.

"Li’er, you really made a fool of me!" Zi Lin wore a look of deep sorrow, pounding his chest with his fist, then suddenly contorting his face in pain.

Feng Xiao Li couldn’t muster a smile at his theatrics. She spoke in a low voice, "What did I deceive you about?"

"Li’er, you hid your true martial prowess from me!" He had worried she might lose to xx, secretly sweating for her, gathering his own inner strength in case he needed to help her avoid harm at a critical moment—but he never even got the chance to intervene.

Feng Xiao Li turned to face him, sunlight blazing across her figure, the red silk dress glowing even brighter beneath its rays, her skin radiant and pale.

After a moment’s silence, Feng Xiao Li’s voice was cool and distant: "So what if I lied to you? Who are you to me? You’re nobody. I owe you nothing. Zi Lin, let me tell you—don’t presume you know me well, because frankly, you don’t know a damn thing about me. I lied, yes, and what of it? What can you possibly do about it?"

She planted her hands on her waist, exuding fierce authority like Mu Xin Qi, arrogance like Xiang Lian, shamelessness like Yue Wan Qing, and depth of cunning like Mu Xin Mi.

Zi Lin was stunned, never expecting Feng Xiao Li’s words to strike with such explosive force, slicing through him like a blade, inflicting a pain he’d never felt before.

Li’er, why do you push me away time and again? You clearly like me, yet you wear a face colder than a stranger’s.

Zi Lin lowered his lashes, refusing to look at her expression; Feng Xiao Li turned her face away, equally unwilling to meet his gaze.

"My words end here. From now on, stop following me. You can go on living your privileged life, and I’ll go on as my carefree self. We’ll keep to our own paths, never interfering with each other. I don’t know when I ever provoked you, nor your purpose in approaching me. Let’s end this now—do whatever you wish, but don’t push me to the point I truly decide to kill you."

Feng Xiao Li spoke with her head held high. He knew well her emotions were genuine; she was the sort who always followed through on her word. But Zi Lin was not one to be underestimated—he had never been someone who gave up easily. To give up on Feng Xiao Li would be harder than scaling the heavens!

"Li’er, sooner or later, I’ll belong to you. Kill me or beat me as you wish!"

Feng Xiao Li had thought her words would finally make him retreat, but to her surprise, his persistence was beyond all reason. She made her meaning clear—she despised him, wanted nothing to do with him, wished he would vanish from her sight—he was clever enough to understand.

Feng Xiao Li turned away, no longer looking at him. The cry of a phoenix echoed in her ears, and suddenly she was enveloped in a soft embrace from behind. The sweep of violet robes flashed before her, then settled gently around her, his chin resting on her shoulder, cradling the one he loved.

Feng Xiao Li gazed at the sunlight and murmured, "Zi Lin, why do you trouble yourself so?"

To love someone who does not love you—do you know how bitter that feeling is?

"Li’er, as long as I can stay by your side, I want nothing else—not even a name or title."

――

Why did Zi Lin seem like a tragic concubine in a play?

Feng Xiao Li led the way, Zi Lin trailing behind.

If he wished to follow, so be it.

Snow Mist Mountain was never blessed with clear skies—it was forever shrouded in snow and gloom. The trees, stunted from years of cold, never sprouted new leaves, exuding an unusual aura of death. The mountain was blanketed in white year-round; aside from foxes and humans, no other creatures dwelled here.

She had long heard of Snow Mist Mountain, but when Zi Lin finally saw it, he couldn’t help but marvel. How had Feng Xiao Li managed to survive in such a place? Yet, reflecting on himself, he realized he was little better, and his gaze dimmed.

Feng Xiao Li was accustomed to it; she had grown up here, long since resigned to days of endless snow and no sunlight, where the only sights were wind and ice.

She once thought she would never leave, yet there came a day she descended the mountain with Yue Wan Qing to see the world beyond. She’d opened her eyes, no longer a frog at the bottom of a well gazing at a narrow sky, finally encountering a dazzling array of people unlike her own simple nature. The outside world was fraught with peril, far more complex than she had imagined—one misstep could cost her life, caught between controlling and being controlled. If you held power and position, you might think all you wanted was freedom.

She had lived below for only a short time, but already she felt Snow Mist Mountain was the most beautiful, pure place in the world, untouched by even the faintest profanation, its beauty forever preserved in her heart.

Outwardly calm, Feng Xiao Li’s heart was a torrent, wild as the rushing rivers of the Yangtze and Yellow, never-ending. Suddenly her hand warmed—Zi Lin had, at some unknown moment, clasped both of her hands in his own, and she could feel his warmth flowing into her.

Don’t worry—I’m here!

The unwavering resolve in Zi Lin’s eyes left an indelible mark in Feng Xiao Li’s heart, offering her a hand and a shoulder in her darkest, most helpless moments. No words were needed—just one look, and her restless heart was soothed.

Zi Lin, you are wonderful—but you will never truly understand me.

At last, a familiar smile graced Feng Xiao Li’s indifferent face. "Let’s go," she said, as if nothing had happened, the distance between them lessened, a new layer of understanding formed.

Still――

Oh well. One step at a time.

Feng Xiao Li led Zi Lin down a familiar path, paved with gray-blue stones. Though snow fell thick and fast, the path itself was curiously free of snow, as if the ice had melted to water, clean and beautiful.

But Feng Xiao Li’s good mood did not last long. Suddenly, she stopped, her gaze sharpening as she stared at the thatched hut perched before the cliff. With a gust of wind, several tufts of straw tumbled down. Most would see nothing unusual, but both Feng Xiao Li and Zi Lin were martial artists; they could see beneath the surface, especially Feng Xiao Li, who had lived here so long.

"We’re too late!"

Feng Xiao Li pulled her hand free and dashed forward with the speed of a hundred-meter sprint. In an instant, she reached the hut, raised her foot, and kicked the door open. It collapsed inward. Inside, a black-clad figure rummaging through boxes startled, never expecting anyone to arrive at this moment. That could only mean the other group of black-clad men had failed to intercept the people below the mountain.

Killing intent flashed.

"Zi Lin!" Feng Xiao Li spoke, each word crisp and cold. "I won’t hold back anymore!"