Confession and Revelation

The departure for the campaign was set for two days later, and Yun Xueyan felt a splitting headache. Duan Nanyu and Feng Xilou... how on earth was she supposed to handle them?

The night was exceptionally deep.

Yun Xueyan sat alone in the courtyard, wrapped in a thick quilted coat. Finding a spot to sit, she looked up at the silent, pitch-black sky, and her heart seemed to sink along with the gloomy expanse.

Past events were like proliferating branches entangling and growing within her heart. Joys and sorrows had ultimately been ground down into indifference in her life, striking her down before she even had a chance to react.

Those pains had been deeply buried by her, yet now that she had returned, they were brutally unearthed once more, agonizingly painful.

She had no idea what her subsequent destiny would be.

"What are you thinking about? The expedition is in two days, why aren't you resting properly?" Feng Yihan walked over, wearing a light blue robe, his dark hair simply bound with a ribbon. His delicate cheeks outlined handsome contours. He looked at her with an indifferent face, his voice equally aloof.

Yun Xueyan had already grown accustomed to his attitude, so she only responded with a faint smile, "It's precisely because the expedition is coming up that I can't sleep. I thought that after coming back, everything would be different. But in reality, nothing has changed at all, has it?"

She had thought that time could make people forget everything. Yet while she had managed it, others... could not. What good was that really?

She was merely an ordinary woman with no grand ambitions. The Yun Xueyan of the past and the Jueyan of the present shared the same desire—she simply wanted to be a good wife, to assist her husband and educate their children, remaining faithful through thick and thin. Yet such a wish seemed like an insurmountable mountain to her.

"Things have changed. The past you had no one by your side; the present you has me. That is change. Your resurrection from the dead is even more of a transformation in your life. Yun Xueyan is dead, and Jueyan lives—that is enough. The remaining path is still yours to walk, but how you walk it is up to you. No one else can help you." Feng Yihan looked up at the sky. Set against the backdrop of the silent night, Yun Xueyan felt that he... was not as cold as he appeared on the surface.

Lowering his gaze, he stared softly at Yun Xueyan, gazing at the exquisite face half-hidden behind a veil. In those eyes—which had endured countless trials and tortures and had been almost crushed by fate—there still remained a pristine clarity. Time and time again, he was on the verge of drowning in those eyes.

Therefore, he refused to look into her eyes, afraid that he would lose his resolve.

"Perhaps. What you say might be right, or it might be wrong; I have no way to be certain." She sighed softly, falling silent.

Beneath the moonlight, the two of them sat quietly, though beneath the silence, each harbored their own thoughts.

"Young Master Feng..." She paused in thought, slowly standing up. Her figure shivered slightly in the chill wind, appearing frail and powerless. Her ink-black hair was gently lifted by the breeze, carrying a faint, delicate fragrance. "I don't know what matters weigh heavily upon your mind, nor do I wish to pry."

"That is for the best." His voice remained cool as he turned his gaze elsewhere.

"I also know that I am merely a chess piece, though I do not know what my purpose is. Half of my path is walked by myself, and the other half is manipulated by you, isn't that so?" she asked without evasion, a hint of a smile in her tone.

Seeing that Feng Yihan did not speak, though his body imperceptibly stiffened, her voice grew even softer, easily scattered by the wind, yet dropping clearly into his ears. "I am willing, because you are my benefactor. I have no reason to refuse what you wish to do, but I only hope you choose the right path before you act."

"A woman should not be too clever!" he rebuked coldly, laced with a flash of anger—a rare display of emotion.

It was simply because he had been seen through so easily. Indeed, she was a pawn.

"If I weren't clever, how could I help you? Wouldn't I truly be of no use then?" Her words carried a smile, yet the face hidden behind the veil masked her inner unease.

"I will be going out tomorrow and won't be back for a few days, so I won't be able to see you off when the army marches." With that, Feng Yihan turned and left, leaving behind a trail of long footprints.

Watching the figure that grew increasingly distant, Yun Xueyan shook her head and turned back into the room.