130 Unfamiliar Surroundings

Fire, a sea of fire. Thick, billowing smoke choked her, making it impossible to breathe. The searing heat scorched her skin with agonizing pain, yet she could not give up; she still had to save someone.

A column of fire descended from the sky like a gaping, bloodthirsty maw. Before she could dodge, it slammed into her with brutal force.

In an instant, she was submerged in deep water. The icy cold seeped into her bones, bringing a marrow-deep ache. She felt as though the water were swallowing her whole. She struggled desperately, finding even a breath a monumental task. She could not swim. She wanted to scream, to cry out, to grasp at a straw—Yun Qixiao, Duan Nanyu... anyone.

But she caught nothing. Her hands were empty.

As she neared the brink of drowning, a sharp, rhythmic pain tore through her chest. It was so intense that her strength faded, and she allowed her body to sink, deeper and deeper...

With her very last ounce of strength, she struggled.

Suddenly, a cold touch upon her forehead banished her panic. She reached out and grabbed the person beside her, clutching them tightly for fear that this was but a dream and she would soon be left alone again.

She was so lonely. She did not want to be alone anymore; she wanted to rise.

His abandonment had shattered her heart. Why had he not chosen her? Why?

She suddenly released her grip, letting her body sink softly into the depths. She did not know how she would face the world upon waking.

"Wake up." The voice was cold and unfamiliar. She could not discern who it belonged to. It was not Duan Nanyu, nor was it Feng Xilou. It was neither of them!

She felt a sudden wave of panic. Where was she?

She frowned, weak and weary. She felt a frantic urge to open her eyes and see her surroundings, but she could not. She tried, but it was in vain.

"It is time to wake. You have slept for too long." The strange voice echoed again, deepening her terror.

Subconsciously, she gripped the bedding, her chest tightening. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. She looked at the unfamiliar surroundings and felt utterly adrift.

Where was she?

"You are finally awake. I thought you would remain unconscious for a while longer." The voice returned.

Her breathing quickened as she turned to look at the person beside her.

It was a blank, indifferent face. His handsome features were devoid of any expression—lacking the warmth of Feng Xilou's smile or the icy sharpness of Duan Nanyu's gaze. It was as if that face rejected all worldly emotion.

Yun Xueyan moved her eyes, scanning the room before fixing her gaze back on the man. Her voice was dry and hoarse, yet flat. "Did you save me?"

There was no need to ask; she simply wanted to confirm once more that she was alive.

"Who else but me? Or did you crawl up on your own?" he replied expressionlessly. He turned, poured a cup of water from the table, and held it out to her. "Here. I assume you are thirsty."

She took the water and drank greedily. She was indeed thirsty. As the cool liquid slid down her parched throat, trickling into her body, a sudden bitterness welled up in her heart.

She was alive, which meant she would continue to hate.

The moment she fell from the cliff flashed through her mind. Her body stiffened, and a sharp, intense pain surged in her chest. She would not forget that moment. How could she?

"Stop drifting off. Tell me your name; I do not wish to have saved someone without knowing who she is," the man said, his voice devoid of sentiment as he reached out to take the empty cup from her. "Speak."

"Jueyan. My name is Jueyan." The words left her lips without a moment's hesitation. From this day forward, she was no longer Yun Xueyan; she was Jueyan!

"I am Feng Yihan," he replied curtly, not even waiting for her to ask.

"Thank you for saving me," she said, her brow furrowing slightly as a throbbing ache bloomed in her head. "I am still tired. I wish to rest a while longer."

"As you wish." With that, Feng Yihan turned and walked out.

She sank back into the bedding. Her head throbbed with increasing intensity. She did not want to recall anything; she did not want to think at all.