Chapter 89: Choosing A Way To Die

Chapter 89: Choosing a Way to Die

The scene inside the room was not what Han Wubing had imagined, nor even what Zhao Changhe had expected.

The moment the door closed, his only impulse was to embrace her fiercely, kiss her, and tell her how much he had missed her in the half-year apart.

But as his arms lifted, catching sight of Xia Chichi’s enigmatic, half-smiling gaze, Zhao Changhe froze, unable to reach out.

Just half a month ago, he had held another young girl, promising to wait for her for three years.

Now, meeting again, he could no longer face her with a clear conscience.

And her eyes seemed far less ardent than he had hoped—that teasing smile nowhere near as excited or joyful as his own. Could it be that, after wandering the jianghu, she had already forgotten?

Xia Chichi said with a playful smile, “What’s wrong? The bold and heroic Brother Zhao? How come you turn mute at the sight of a woman, and your face even flushes a little?”

Damn it—the sourness in her words could probably waft all the way to the lake. How did she know what Yangyang called him?

Zhao Changhe racked his brains for a suitable reply, only to see a flash of cold light before him—a short sword had already been pressed against his neck.

Pathetically, Zhao Changhe realized that his first reaction to this was that he could probably dodge the strike… Was the gap between him and Qianlong Thirteen not so vast, or had Chichi held back?

But in the end, he did not move, letting the blade rest there.

He sensed no killing intent from Chichi, and Longque gave no reaction either… but he could see the anger in her eyes. Better not resist—just take the beating with head in hands, right?

Xia Chichi felt his instinctive urge to dodge, yet he forcibly restrained himself and let her hold the sword. She snorted softly, saying leisurely, “Is this your jianghu vigilance? Letting strangers barge in is one thing, but not even dodging when a sword is at your throat—what makes you so sure I won’t kill you?”

Zhao Changhe blurted out, “Who said you’re a stranger?”

“Oh? If I’m not a stranger, then what is Cui Yuanyang?”

“About Yangyang…” Zhao Changhe started to say he had originally refused, that he had told the old fox he had a girlfriend and needed to be faithful to her, only to be tricked into his current predicament.

But then he reconsidered—maybe he had been tricked at first, but later he had genuinely fallen for Yangyang’s charm. Even if his affection was still far more about care than desire, and Yangyang was practically his for the taking without him even touching her lips, was that something worth arguing? He truly harbored thoughts of waiting for her to grow up, which meant he had indeed strayed.

With that thought, he stopped defending himself and admitted quietly, “It’s my fault. I couldn’t hold back.”

“A woman chasing a man is just a thin veil, especially when Cui Yuanyang is so adorable and so wealthy.” Xia Chichi said languidly, “I’d have taken her too if I were you. Can’t blame Brother Zhao.”

“No, I…”

Xia Chichi pressed the short sword slightly harder: “So I am a stranger now. I am the holy maiden of the superior sect of the Blood God Sect, here to purge a traitor from the subordinate sect. For the sake of our past acquaintance, I’ll make an exception and let you choose your own death. Speak—how do you want to die?”

“…How about suffocating me with a kiss even more forceful than that time in the Water Curtain Cave?”

Xia Chichi said coldly, “A traitor like you actually wants to relive old dreams with the holy maiden? Sorry, but a holy maiden must sever all desires and devote herself wholly to the gods. I have already forgotten you. This time I came to completely end our ill-fated entanglement. And since you have a new lover, I am now free of all hindrances.”

“Luo Qi…”

“…My name is Xia Chichi.”

“Chichi.”

Xia Chichi held back her expression, glaring at him.

“The Blood God Sect is subordinate to the Four Symbols Sect. When did it become the duty of the superior sect’s holy maiden to purge their traitors? Are they worthy?” Zhao Changhe sighed. “Are you here for the ancient sword? Need any help?”

Just that one question—whether she needed help—nearly shattered the psychological barrier Xia Chichi had built. She gritted her teeth and said, “I have countless subordinates, all at the eighth or ninth level of Xuan Pass, and the Earth and Human Rankings obey my commands. What need do I have for your pretense!”

“Outsiders think your rise to holy maiden is a phoenix ascending the branch, but I know these past six months haven’t been easy for you.” Zhao Changhe said softly, “A completely unfamiliar environment, a sinister demonic sect, and no one around you to truly confide in…”

Xia Chichi shouted, “I do have someone!”

“They obey you because of the sect’s hierarchy. If you make a single misstep—even something as trivial as finding a man—it could lead to betrayal and abandonment. And there are probably those who envy your position, secretly gnashing their teeth, waiting to pull you down… You walk on thin ice, perhaps not even sleeping as soundly as you did in Beimang.” Zhao Changhe sighed. “I understand now. You shouldn’t even have come to see me today…”

Xia Chichi stared at him fixedly, saying nothing.

He was right. Coming to see him was an impulse born of unbearable longing—she shouldn’t have come at all.

Why else had she always been hiding in the trees, watching from afar, using the excuse of observing a traitor?

But she simply couldn’t help it.

The moment she left, there was Yue Hongling. When he entered the jianghu, there was Cui Yuanyang.

Half a year apart, she hadn’t forgotten him—but had he forgotten her?

The sect’s infiltration was terrifyingly thorough. There were Four Symbols Sect agents within the Cui family. Though Xia Chichi didn’t know the details of the father-in-law and son-in-law conversation, she could infer from others’ accounts that Zhao Changhe’s feelings for Cui Yuanyang were mostly protective, different from what he had with her… But it still hurt.

Because Cui Yuanyang truly suited Zhao Changhe better than she did. She was merely a holy maiden who couldn’t indulge in love—was she supposed to drag him down for life? Cui Yuanyang was kind and adorable, with a flourishing family, and could offer him far more support than her own precarious situation.

Shouldn’t she be happy for him instead?

But she was just furious, unable to contain herself. She wanted to press her sword to his throat and ask that heartless, faithless man how he planned to die!

Yet, heaven knew—when she saw him at the Ancient Sword Lake, was she angry or overjoyed? So much so that she came to see him despite knowing she shouldn’t.

But when she held the sword to his neck, all he said was, “Need any help?”

Just like before—when she returned exhausted from the snowy, icy wilderness, only to find a still-warm meal waiting at home. It pierced her heart like an arrow, and she could no longer look away.

Xia Chichi stared blankly at him, watching as he effortlessly moved the sword away from his neck and then, just as effortlessly, pulled her into an embrace.

Xia Chichi, whose strength surpassed his, somehow failed to evade.

The mighty Qianlong Thirteen—so utterly defenseless.

For a brief moment, as he held her, Xia Chichi felt a lingering reluctance. Then, jolting awake, she pushed against his chest: “If anyone finds out, we’ll both die.”

Zhao Changhe took her hand, raising the short sword to the side, then unsheathed Longque and clinked it against the blade in a childish rhythm: “See? The holy maiden is fighting a traitor.”

Xia Chichi almost laughed out loud.

“Chichi.” As Zhao Changhe continued the childish sword-clinking, he lowered his gaze to her eyes, now burning with intensity: “No matter what you think of me, no matter how faithless and heartless you believe Zhao Changhe to be, I swear—since you left, I have never been that intimate with anyone else. In my heart, my girlfriend has always been you. I have always been waiting for the day I could see you again, kiss you without restraint…”

Xia Chichi’s mind went blank. She didn’t know if Zhao Changhe had kissed Yue Hongling or Cui Yuanyang, but deep down, she felt it was true.

Even now, he still blushed when a brothel madam tried to solicit him.

Was it true…? He had been waiting for her.

Before she realized it, her lips were sealed.

The swords and blades still clinked chaotically. His left arm gripped her slender waist so tightly, his kiss so domineering.

He really had been holding back, Xia Chichi thought dazedly.

But hadn’t she, too?

Countless midnight dreams—the man who had touched her heartstrings, the fierce and passionate kisses—replayed endlessly, never forgotten.

What a pity… He was her man, yet now it felt like a secret affair.

“Those chivalrous maidens are so pure, those noble ladies so reserved—they’ve kept Changhe pent up… I’m just a demonic cult enchantress. So what if I steal a love affair?” With that thought flashing through her mind, Xia Chichi finally closed her eyes and kissed back fervently.

“After all, I told him to choose his death—suffocation counts too!”