It was all fake.
This was probably what the fox demon had wanted to say but didn't finish.
He... wasn't wrong.
Why did Shuangjian have such a reaction?
Shuangjian was like her; they came from the modern world, so naturally, they were no longer the original Xu Yingshi and Han Shuangjian.
He wasn't him, and she wasn't her.
So... why was the feedback she received like this?
"Yingshi."
Shuangjian's face was stained with blood as he quietly called her name.
Yingshi's heartbeat became exceptionally fast, and she felt a stifling, aching tension in her chest. She vaguely sensed that these were Shuangjian's emotions, processed through their blood pact.
Infected by it, her heart sank deeper and deeper, until it sank into the unknown.
She kept thinking: This isn't right.
Shuangjian's reaction wasn't right, the fox demon's implication wasn't right, the silence at this moment wasn't right. Nothing was right, and moreover, it had been wrong from the very beginning...
She felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. In a daze, she felt as if she were standing inside the Gate of Death again. The faint blue fox fire and the scalding hellfire overlapped, wrapping around the same person who was terrified because of a lie.
But this time, she didn't dare to dissect that lie.
Hu Xiaoli—perhaps that wasn't his real name—his final voice was too impactful, like a poisoned bow and arrow.
She clearly didn't want to listen anymore, clearly had already covered her ears, so why did those words still drill into her mind?
He didn't just say that Shuangjian wasn't Shuangjian; he said Shuangjian was lying to her, because he had seen his heart.
He said that no matter what identity Shuangjian claimed to be, he wasn't that person. It was all a lie.
He said Shuangjian was afraid of her knowing the truth, which was why he hastily attacked before getting that answer, why he stood in the judgment seat of hellfire out of fear, why he had been uneasy in front of her so many times, and why he had secrets he couldn't explain to her...
Thus, the arrow accurately pierced her back collar, pinning her and sending her spinning backward in time, back to the initial space-time where she had come to this foreign world alone, to a fantasy book world, far away from her family and friends, far away from everything she was familiar with, relied on, and couldn't bear to part with.
Fortunately, she wasn't the only anomaly in this world; she had a companion.
Even though her companion seemed to know little about their world. Rather than discussing everything they missed about the real world, more often than not, she was the one pouring her heart out while he listened...
Even though her companion's speech and behavior didn't resemble an uneducated mountain village boy at all. He was overly smart, overly powerful, and overly certain. No matter what happened, he remained unfazed, and no matter what danger they encountered, he always had a solution...
Even though her companion had made her feel disoriented many times, unable to distinguish whether he was a transmigrator or the male protagonist of the book. Even though seeing his solitary figure from afar countless times reminded her of the descriptions in the book...
Even though her companion was almost more overpowered than a real male-demographic novel protagonist. He mastered everything with almost no adaptation process, even taking demonic possession in stride, only worrying about being rejected by her, never showing the hesitation a normal human should have...
The more Yingshi used these "even thoughs" to convince herself, the more an immense sense of loneliness swept over her.
Her entire body began to tremble slightly, truly unable to tell how much of her physical and mental suffering came from herself.
Clearly... it wasn't this serious, right?
Clearly, Shuangjian treated her very well. Was this lie really that destructive?
Clearly, Shuangjian would never lie to her just to deliberately tease her. He must have his own difficulties, and she absolutely wouldn't condemn him or their relationship to death just because of this, right?
Clearly, Shuangjian was very different from the person written in the book...
So, was it because Shuangjian couldn't breathe, making her feel so sad and heartbroken, that tears suddenly welled up all at once?
Then why didn't she speak?
Why didn't she put down the hands covering her ears, respond to Shuangjian's call, run to his side, and casually tell him about Xiangxiang snatching food? Why didn't she join him in complaining that the fox demon's loud voice hurt her eardrums, hold his hand, and tell him it was okay? She wasn't that hurt by this lie. She knew how good a person Shuangjian was, so how could she fall for the fox demon's intentional provocation... Why didn't she?
"..."
Yingshi began to wail loudly where she stood.
She felt like she was shedding the tears she had held back months ago.
Only a small part of these tears was due to being hurt by deception. A large part was breakdown and hesitation, and an even larger part was the arrogance belonging to a three-dimensional human soul—she knew the existence of that arrogance was wrong. Even if Shuangjian was a paper character, he had the same flesh and blood as her, was just as real, and felt happiness and pain just the same.
But she couldn't help but feel lonely, couldn't help but realize that she was, in fact, always a solitary anomaly, and perhaps, she could never go home again...
At the very least, the extravagant hope of "going home together" had already shattered into bubbles!
Yingshi's crying made the two people present freeze.
Even the originally cursing Mr. Hundred-Thousand-Know-It-All only dared to move quietly, silently putting out the fire, while the already silent Shuangjian couldn't make a sound at all.
"..."
He couldn't catch his breath due to powerlessness.
Yingshi's tears exploded in his heart. He tried to step forward, to hug her, wipe away her tears, comfort her with words, tell her that everything the fox demon said was false. He could even threaten Mr. Hundred-Thousand-Know-It-All to speak up and protect the lie of his identity, to demand Yingshi's trust and stop her from being sad...
But taking a step was such a difficult thing to do.
He was afraid of being pushed away by Yingshi.
Afraid of being given the order, "Never come near me again."
Afraid of her cold stares, or even of her never looking at him again.
He stood there, in the sea of fire, being melted, being frozen.
Apart from gazing at Yingshi, he couldn't move even a single finger.
It is said that before dying, a person experiences the illusion of a life review and begins to constantly recall the past.
The very first scene of meeting Yingshi began to replay in his mind.
In the dilapidated thatched cottage, her curses and the scalding medicine splashed on his cheek were the first miracle to descend upon him.
The god had descended, held his hand, and accepted his approach... but finally, she was going to abandon him because of the clumsiness of his disguise.
The agonizing pain in his heart made it impossible for him not to hate, but that hatred gradually turned into nothingness.
He hated that "rule." He could feel it still invisibly targeting him, as if it sensed his happiness and thus emerged to obstruct him, attempting to influence him again, control him, torture him... attempting to take away all that unexpected happiness.
Thus, there would be so many "obstacles" in this world meant to expose his lies.
Every time he patched up a lie, it was incredibly difficult, because he knew nothing about the world he had to look up to. The Gate of Death accurately captured his fear, the fox demon accurately saw through his heart, and the "rule" racked its brains to make him shed his disguise as soon as possible, wanting to send him to the gallows.
He finally had to meet Yingshi's gaze.
That kind of... tear-blurred stare that he didn't even know how to describe with words.
Every gasp carried an irresistible pain. In the end, it was as if someone had pushed him forward; like a floating spirit, he approached Yingshi in a trance.
Was it him who reached out first, or did Yingshi embrace him on her own?
He couldn't remember.
When his senses returned, Yingshi was already in his arms. Her tears soaked through his clothes as she sobbed, speaking between gasps: "Shuangjian... can you... can you please stop crying? I really... feel so awful!"
"..."
Shuangjian was certain the corners of his eyes were dry. He couldn't cry; he had never shed a tear since the day he was born.
His despair could not be diluted by tears.
But the moment he heard Yingshi speak to him, a very unfamiliar, blurry moisture actually clouded his eyes. In his bewilderment, all he knew was to clumsily reply, "Okay," and hold her tighter.
...Yingshi was still talking to him. Did that mean he wasn't out of the picture yet?
"And don't let your heart beat so fast..." Yingshi ordered through her tears. "It's so loud it's making me uncomfortable..."
"...Okay."
"But it can't just stop beating altogether... What are you doing? Why are you controlling it so well all of a sudden?"
"..."
"Also, don't hold me so tight. Lower your hands a bit, I can't breathe..." Yingshi seemed uncomfortable everywhere, but she never lifted her head, nor did she break free from his embrace.
Not a single word she said was an accusation or interrogation about his fabricated identity.
Aside from crying, it was as if she knew nothing at all—but Shuangjian knew that wasn't the case.
He vaguely felt that he needed to confess everything, before Yingshi's tears completely evaporated.
But just as he was about to speak, Yingshi suddenly looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, and said to him, "Han Shuangjian, shut up."
It was the first time she had called him by his full name.
Her words carried a naked hint of fierceness, yet they made Shuangjian feel a returning warmth. He had no choice but to obey. And so, he stood stiffly in the burning rat demon's lair, holding Yingshi, feeling how surreal this moment was... It felt too much like a delusion, because he was somehow not dead yet. And yet, all of this was incredibly real, because he could constantly feel the heat of Yingshi's tears. They made him ache, but they also brought him a joy so profound he couldn't contain it.
In the countless intervals between this, he had tried to wipe away Yingshi's tears, but she always turned her head away, refusing to cooperate.
However, gently patting her back and pressing her head against his chest was permitted.
When Yingshi lifted her head for the second time, her emotions seemed to have calmed significantly. She had more or less stopped crying, though her face was still mottled with tear stains.
She sighed softly and murmured a sentence he couldn't understand:
"Han Shuangjian, that year when the apricot blossoms fell in the light rain, you said you were a transmigrator... In the end, my feelings were given in vain."
"..."
Shuangjian's chest tightened, and his whole body went cold.
Yingshi said "given in vain."
She really did regret it, despised him, and realized how abhorrent his lies were.
This final closeness was nothing more than a terminal lucidity for him, yet he had actually thought he could be forgiven...
His limbs gradually went numb, but the pain on his back was distinct—Yingshi pouted and punched him with her fist.
"What's wrong with you? That's a line from a TV show," she looked up, choking on a sob once again.
"..."
Shuangjian blinked sluggishly. Catching the unchanged intimacy hidden within Yingshi's hitting motion, he felt as if he had just awakened from a dream.
His emotions plummeted and soared with Yingshi's every frown, every smile, and every word, yet this feeling was something he gladly endured.
"Yingshi," he called her name, stiffly licking his lips.
"Mhm," Yingshi replied muffledly.
Her voice still carried absolute displeasure, but she didn't choose to ignore him.
She simply said, "Han Shuangjian, now you really have to confess everything to me."
The temperature in the rat hole kept rising, filled with drifting white smoke. The pink-purple light unique to the demon realm seeped through the gaps in the wall, tinging the space with a dreamlike beauty and absurdity.
It seemed even the dust wanted to quietly listen to their upcoming conversation; they froze in the air, suspended and refusing to fall.
"How about you two step aside?" Mr. Hundred-Thousand-Know-It-All said, wanting to cry but lacking the tears. "Isn't that fox fire burning hot? Let this old man put it out first!"
Heaven knew he only dared to speak up after seeing the atmosphere loosen up slightly!
Having witnessed the fox demon lose its life in an instant, he was truly terrified and trembling.
At this moment, only the fire at the feet of those two remained unextinguished. To prevent the hard-won rescued texts from being destroyed, he had to muster the courage to shoo them away...
"Then let's put out the fire first." Yingshi wiped the tears from her cheeks, only then noticing that a corner of Shuangjian's robes had already been scorched by the fox fire, dotted with a faint blue light.
As her muttered words faded, Shuangjian followed her gaze. A dense, rolling black mist instantly descended like a falling cloud. Upon touching the fox fire, it swiftly extinguished every last flame, leaving none behind.
"You...!" If you had this ability, why didn't you use it earlier?! Couldn't you have helped him put out the fire immediately?
Mr. Hundred-Thousand-Know-It-All almost blurted it out, but having lived for so many years, he still had some ability to assess the situation. Afraid that any extra words would draw unpredictable glares, he forcefully swallowed his complaints and said instead, "This old man... this old man suddenly remembered I have some business to attend to outside. Since you two aren't leaving, you can stay here and watch the house for me temporarily!"
With that, he quickly slipped away. Heaven knew he had wanted to escape ages ago!
The massive rat hole was once again left with only the two of them standing face to face.
The gluttonous little pig had fallen fast asleep at some unknown point.
Yingshi knew that once Shuangjian spoke next, she would truly have no more chances to deceive herself.
But she still lowered her head and gently squeezed his hand—it was the posture of a listener.
