Mu Ran, however, did not allow him any hesitation or retreat. Lowering her head, she kissed his slightly cold lips, gently licking and biting.
In this step, he was cooperative.
As if to soothe him, Mu Ran parted her lips slightly. Then, his warmth invaded, tangling with hers, messing up both of their breathing.
After giving him enough time to relax, one of her hands slipped into his clothes, touching the shoulder that bore the mark of mutilation.
He instantly snapped awake and raised his hand to push her away, but afraid of hurting her, he couldn't bring himself to use force.
This gave Mu Ran an even better opportunity, and her hand explored more thoroughly.
"Ranran..." Cangshu Bai's body trembled, his voice thick with a nasal tone. "Don't do this to me."
Mu Ran saw the watery glint in his eyes, and it was as if through them, she could see his fragile soul, ready to shatter at the slightest touch.
She couldn't bear it, but she knew that if she let this drag on, he might forever remain trapped in his inner turmoil, constantly consuming himself.
Mu Ran said, "You are my husband. Everything about you is mine."
The moment the fabric slipped away, the body that was once as flawless and bright as the moon, now bearing its missing part, was exposed before her without any concealment.
Below his left shoulder and neck was an empty stump. The flesh had long healed, but it left a pale, winding scar, like a wound frozen by time.
The scar was extremely hideous, making it easy to imagine how decisive and ruthless his movements must have been when he tore off his own arm back then.
Cangshu Bai instinctively curled up. His remaining right arm shot up to cover his face, pressing tightly over his eyes until his knuckles turned white.
He didn't dare to look.
He didn't dare to look at her expression, didn't dare to see if a trace of disgust or fear would flash through her eyes.
Through five hundred years of madness, he had endured everything, but his only fear was her revulsion.
His back and shoulders were pulled taut, trembling violently. Even his breathing became extremely light and shallow, like a beast stripped of all its disguises with nowhere left to hide.
Fragile, helpless, lowly—he had lost all the arrogance he displayed before others.
In the next instant, a gentle warmth softly landed on the healed scar of his severed arm.
It was the warmth of her lips, reverently covering the mutilation he had hidden for five hundred years, the one even he dared not touch.
Cangshu Bai's entire body stiffened, his trembling pausing for a beat.
The arm covering his eyes quivered slightly, his escaping breaths an absolute mess. A very light, hoarse gasp spilled from his throat, so broken it was barely audible.
He didn't dare to move, afraid that even his heartbeat might be too loud and disturb this moment of tenderness.
Mu Ran's voice echoed by his ear, "Jinzhi, have you ever regretted it?"
He shook his head and said with an extremely suppressed, trembling voice, "Never."
"Neither have I," Mu Ran said. "That day when I went back to find you, knowing it was certain death, I still didn't regret it."
Cangshu Bai's Adam's apple bobbed, but he said nothing.
He could feel his face being cupped by a pair of warm hands.
"Jinzhi, look, neither of us regrets it. So we must be the couple with the best and truest feelings in the world, right?"
Cangshu Bai pursed his lips slightly, then said softly, "It was me. I only chose to marry you back then out of calculation."
So their beginning wasn't as beautiful as she thought.
He had always been terrified of letting her know he approached her with an ulterior motive, but at this very moment, he actually said it out loud himself.
He thought he was never worthy of her from the very beginning.
Suddenly, an extra weight settled upon him.
It was Mu Ran lying on top of him. Her gaze fell on his mutilated scar, her breath gently brushing against the skin of his chest.
Feeling her usual reliance, his chest heaved even more violently due to his racing heartbeat.
Mu Ran whispered, "In Zhenyue Mountain City, when I found out you were a powerful cultivator, I already guessed it. But what I said in the cave back then wasn't a lie either. Since marrying you, I could feel how good you were to me."
She gave another soft laugh. "The sugar pills you fed me, the little trinkets you gave me, all those supposedly worthless things you brought home every time—none of them were simple, were they?"
Mu Ran's voice perhaps possessed some kind of magical power.
Cangshu Bai actually found the courage to slowly lower his hand, revealing eyes that had long been swallowed by fear.
Listening to his heartbeat, Mu Ran felt incredibly reassured. She closed her eyes, let out a comfortable sigh, and slowly said:
"Whether our meeting was a calculation or not, what does it matter?"
"I was very happy during the days we were married. I felt it; in those days, I was loved."
"Jinzhi, you don't even know how lucky I am to have been able to marry you."
Cangshu Bai's hand cautiously touched her fingertips, and soon she reached out to hold it tightly. The difference in their temperatures slowly disappeared, both growing warm.
He said, "You won't... divorce me anymore?"
Mu Ran shook her head, looking up at him with a beaming smile. "No divorce. Between us, there is only widowhood, no—"
He frantically covered her mouth. "You know full well I can never bear to hear those words again."
"Widowhood"—this was practically evoking his memories of five hundred years ago, the scene where she sought her own death for him.
During those years, he didn't dare to sleep. The moment he closed his eyes, the scene of her transferring her blood for him would float before his eyes. Then, the powerlessness and helplessness of being unable to change the past would deeply swallow him whole.
He hated the heavens.
Why did it have to be just when he finally had a small family, a longing, and someone he could cherish in the palm of his hand, that everything was ruthlessly destroyed in one fell swoop?
He hated himself even more.
How arrogant he had been, thinking he could control everything and keep her safe and sound. But ironically, in the end, the one who was protected was himself.
Mu Ran vaguely felt that Cangshu Bai might have developed some form of trauma.
She stopped bringing up heavy topics. Instead, she sat up again, took his hand, and guided it to the ribbon of her clothes.
Cangshu Bai's fingertips subconsciously hooked around that wisp of green, as if he had caught a touch of spring that came solely for him, full of vitality, making his fingers burn.
Mu Ran curled her lips into a smile, leaning down to nuzzle his nose.
He tilted his face up slightly, greedily breathing in her scent.
She laughed aloud.
"Jinzhi, I missed you so much."
"You missed me a lot, too."
"Untie my clothes, okay?"
Mu Ran gazed at the face so close to hers, her eyes shining brightly, brimming with longing.
Yet this longing was not lust.
It was the desperate craving to satisfy each other and fill the void after being separated from a loved one for years.
Whether it was his so-called unworthiness or his so-called mutilation, all of it was somehow soothed and mended in this moment. And so, all that remained was the courage to continue loving each other.
Cangshu Bai could no longer suppress the burning heat surging through his veins. With the trembling urgency of five hundred long years, yet with a touch as gentle as a prayer, his fingers untied her sash.
The girl's garments slipped away, her exquisite body seemingly glowing in the soft candlelight.
She asked, "You want this too, don't you?"
Cangshu Bai's voice was hoarse. "I do."
In the next heartbeat, his single remaining arm wrapped around her. He rolled over, pressing her beneath him, his white hair and loose, open black robes completely enveloping her.
Their breaths were scalding and erratic, his kisses raining down with a desperate, unbridled urgency.
Cangshu Bai was finally done running.
Because he knew—
His wife had returned, and she was right here in his arms.
