The woman froze for a moment: "But... but you also want her to come back..."
"She is you."
"No, she isn’t! She never speaks up when she’s wronged, just swallows it all silently. Even when her body trembles from the cold, she pretends nothing is wrong. I don’t like her—I don’t like that version of her at all!"
Her lips trembled as she bit down on them, her eyes pleading as she looked at him. "Husband, I beg you, don’t let her come back! I promise I’ll learn everything you want me to. I’ll take care of our family, I won’t anger you—just please, don’t bring her back!"
Watching Ayan’s face as she pleaded softly, Yan Zheng felt a momentary daze.
But in that fleeting instant, she seized the chance to pull out her sword and swung it toward the Divine Wooden Cauldron behind her—
"No!"
"Miaomiao!"
Hongxiu and Yun Lang cried out almost simultaneously.
Yet the woman’s eyes burned with determination as she brought the blade down—
If she destroyed the Divine Wooden Cauldron, there would be no more antidote for the Divine Gu.
Then nothing in this world could undo the Butterfly Dream of Zhuangzi. She would remain herself forever, never reverting to that stifled version of Chu Ruoyan, never again forced to suppress her emotions at every turn.
But just as the tip of her sword was about to strike the cauldron, a sudden weight pulled at her waist.
A familiar, cool embrace enveloped her from behind.
"Ayan..."
The man didn’t try to stop her further. Instead, he leaned close to her ear and whispered, "No matter what you become—whether you lose your emotions or indulge in recklessness—in Yan Zheng’s heart, for all eternity, there is only one Ayan."
Her hand stilled. "Only one Ayan?"
"Yes."
His voice, neither too loud nor too soft, carried the weight of a vow straight into her ears.
Unable to resist, she turned her head to meet his gaze. "So... you prefer her, don’t you?"
Yan Zheng didn’t answer, his thin lips pressing together slightly. "Ayan, I know you’ve suffered greatly all these years, and that’s why you don’t want to return to the version of yourself who always held back and endured hardship. But remember, there are also those who care deeply for you—your father, your aunt, your younger sister... They’re all waiting for you to come back."
The woman stared at him blankly, then after a long pause, shook her head faintly. "I don’t care."
"Husband, I don’t care. I have no emotions, I can’t feel joy or sorrow. But I know I must serve you well, because you are my master." As she spoke, she lowered the tip of her sword.
Hongxiu and Yun Lang both exhaled in relief.
Yet the next moment, she flipped open the lid of the Divine Wooden Cauldron and plunged her hand inside. "So, if you want her back... then let her return."
The Divine Gu crawled up her arm, winding its way toward her heart.
A sharp pang struck Yan Zheng’s chest, but just as the gu worm burrowed into her meridians, the woman turned to him with a breathtaking smile. "Farewell, Master!"
Her body went limp, collapsing forward. He caught her instantly.
Her delicate frame alternated between icy cold and scorching heat.
Hongxiu shouted, "The Divine Gu is taking effect! Master, hurry!"
Yun Lang rushed forward without hesitation, slashing his own wrist deeply.
As his blood dripped into her mouth, mingling with the Divine Gu’s power, the dark miasma gathered at her forehead began to dissipate bit by bit.
Finally, she convulsed and spat out a mouthful of black blood.
Within it writhed countless tiny gu worms—the eggs of the Butterfly Dream of Zhuangzi!
"It worked! It worked!" Hongxiu cheered in delight.
Yun Lang, drained of strength, slumped against the bedpost. "Finally... it’s done..."
Yan Zheng’s gaze remained fixed on the bed. Slowly, the woman’s long lashes fluttered, and her eyes opened.
The darkness in her pupils had cleared, replaced by a glimmer of light. "Yan Zheng..."
His heart settled at last as he leaned down to embrace her. "Welcome back, Ayan."
Chu Ruoyan blinked, as if awakening from a years-long dream.
Though her mind was still foggy, her body instinctively returned his embrace. "I’ve made you worry... Yan Zheng."
He didn’t speak, only held her tighter, as if clutching a treasure beyond compare.
Noticing Yun Lang and Hongxiu still present, Chu Ruoyan flushed and gently pushed at him. "Yan Zheng... there are people watching..."
With a deep breath, he reluctantly released her. "For today’s matter... my gratitude."
Yun Lang arched a brow. "Gratitude? Look at this wound—do you think a mere ‘thank you’ makes up for all the blood I’ve lost?"
"I will send generous compensation—"
"Compensation? My Hundred Knowledge Pavilion lacks nothing. What could you possibly offer that I’d value?" Yun Lang crossed his arms defiantly.
Yan Zheng’s eyes narrowed. "Since the Pavilion Master desires nothing, then my wife and I shall take our leave."
He helped Chu Ruoyan to her feet, but before they could step out, Qin Yiru burst into the room in a fluster.
Without a word, the old physician grabbed Yun Lang’s wrist to check his pulse. After a moment, his face brightened. "Good, good! You’ve truly recovered. You’re fortunate indeed to have survived the Butterfly Dream of Zhuangzi. But this is well—now your mother—"
"Cough, cough, cough!" Yun Lang interrupted with exaggerated hacking.
Chu Ruoyan frowned. "Old Divine Physician, what were you saying about my mother?"
Before Qin Yiru could respond, Yun Lang bellowed, "Old man, come tend to me first! I’m practically drained of blood!"
Noticing the deep gashes on his wrist, Chu Ruoyan bowed her head apologetically. "Pavilion Master, forgive me. Once I return to the mansion, I’ll send rare medicinal herbs to aid your recovery."
Yun Lang shot Yan Zheng a smug look at her words.
Yan Zheng said calmly, "Ayan, you’ve just recovered. You should rest at home. As for the Pavilion Master... let’s not delay the Divine Physician’s treatment."
Chu Ruoyan nodded and curtsied slightly to the three of them. "We take our leave."
The moment they departed, Yun Lang’s playful demeanor vanished. His face twisted in pain as he coughed up a mouthful of black blood.
"Pavilion Master!"
"Young Master Yun!"
Qin Yiru reached for his wrist, but Yun Lang pulled away. "...It’s nothing. Just a loss of vitality."
"Fragments of your organs are in this blood, and you call it ‘just a loss of vitality’?" Qin Yiru snapped. "Give me your hand!"
With no choice, Yun Lang extended his arm. The moment Qin Yiru took his pulse, his expression darkened. "Your life force is severely damaged! Hongxiu, inform Steward Du—the Hundred Knowledge Pavilion will close tomorrow. For the next ten days, I must focus on treating your master!"
Hongxiu, never having seen the old physician so alarmed, rushed to comply.
Outside the pavilion, the night was cold and still.
Yan Zheng helped Chu Ruoyan into the carriage, hesitating over whether—or how—to tell her about the Duke of Chu's Mansion.
But before he could speak, a carriage bearing the Chu family crest approached. Lady Jiang the Younger and Chu Ruolan had come searching for them.
"Eldest Sister! Brother-in-Law!"
At the sound of Chu Ruolan’s voice, Chu Ruoyan lifted the carriage curtain.
Chu Ruolan leaped down and rushed toward them as if grasping at salvation. "Thank heavens we found you! Father—Father was taken to the palace by the Empress Dowager’s people this evening. It’s been nearly four hours, and he still hasn’t returned! We had no choice but to seek your help, Brother-in-Law!"
