Still Secretly In Love With My Enemy Today - Chapter 20

Chapter 20: 

 

I used to think that Ye Jingwei made the medicine so bitter specifically to spite me, but I realize now I truly misjudged her.

 

Every time I brew the decoction for Xie Huaishuang, I can’t help but frown—the smell alone is bitter enough to make one’s head throb. Yet Xie Huaishuang drinks it without a change in expression, finishing it in a few gulps. If I didn’t place schizonepeta candy, lotus flower candy, or plum candy in his hand, he wouldn’t even think to seek them out.

 

I asked him: “Is it hard to drink?”

 

“It’s alright.” Xie Huaishuang murmured, the candy making his speech a bit muffled. “Mm… it tastes better than Crane-Stop.”

 

“…”

 

Who taught him to make comparisons like that?

 

“Have you checked everything?” He looked up again. “No issues?”

 

With Coral’s help, the twelfth location was set. I tapped twice on his hand. Xie Huaishuang nodded: “That’s good—including myself, the Temple has always found you difficult to handle. If you say there’s no problem, then there truly isn’t.”

 

Wait.

 

I had only been happy for two heartbeats before I sensed something strange. I stared at him suspiciously: “What are you planning now?”

 

Giving me such exaggerated compliments for no reason—he definitely has something on his mind.

 

Xie Huaishuang didn’t answer immediately. He just crunched on the plum candy and rubbed the tip of his nose.

 

He said: “I truly think so.”

 

I set the empty medicine bowl on the table, sat down beside him, and glared.

 

Xie Huaishuang clearly felt it. His eyes darted around, and he pretended to be busy brushing aside a few stray locks of hair from his forehead.

 

“I have something… um, I want to tell you.”

 

I knew it. Reaching out to fix the hair he had failed to tidy, I asked: “What is it?”

 

“I asked Physician Ye.” He paused before continuing, “The Rebel Sovereign… as long as it’s not used too frequently, there won’t be issues later on.”

 

My heart constricted at those words. “And?”

 

Xie Huaishuang tapped his fingers on the table. When he spoke, he was quick and light: “So, the night after tomorrow, I can also take action.”

 

The night after tomorrow was the agreed-upon date to burn down Linlang Pavilion.

 

“Must it be like this?”

 

“It must.” As Xie Huaishuang spoke, his guilt faded, replaced by a steady gaze. “In terms of the plan itself, if I remain as I am, I am a burden. If I work with you, the chance of error is minimized. As for myself…”

 

He paused, then continued: “I also have things I want to do. Compared to remaining unscathed, I would rather… accomplish what I set out to do.”

 

“I have the ability. Since I dare to use Rebel Sovereign, I can endure the cost.”

 

He spoke with complete composure, his hands spread on the table, those deep green eyes reflecting the lamplight as they stared straight at me. He looked ready to rebut anything I might say.

 

I had known he would do this. But even knowing it, what could I do?

 

—No matter how much I disliked it, at the end of the day, Xie Huaishuang is a person. As he said, he isn’t my glass lamp. I can’t stop him, so I didn’t intend to.

 

In fact, I felt a sense of “of course.” The person who had been entangled with me for ten years without a clear victor should be like this. If our positions were reversed, I wouldn’t be any more compliant.

 

A sword that never leaves its scabbard grows lonely and old.

 

“I asked Ye Jingwei about it the day before yesterday,” I wrote slowly in his hand. “The dose of Fin-Luo pills will be doubled the night after tomorrow, with an extra herb she gave me—but only this once.”

 

Xie Huaishuang looked slightly surprised, his eyelashes fluttering. I repeated with emphasis on his hand: “Only this once!”

 

“I thought…” He stopped halfway, then nodded and smiled. “Alright. I promise you, only this once.”

 

Before he could pull his hand back, I patted his fingers to signal him to wait. Xie Huaishuang, familiar with this, tilted his head: “What are you giving me?”

 

I placed a shelled chestnut in his hand. I watched him chew it; he didn’t say anything, but his hand reached out again quite honestly.

 

I wonder who it was that said they didn’t like sweets in the beginning.

 

“Next time, shell them yourself—I’m not that idle,” I stated as a disclaimer. “Consider this a reward for today.”

 

“A reward?” Xie Huaishuang thought for a moment, confused. “For what?”

 

“You didn’t hide things from me today. Whatever you want to do in the future… at least don’t hide it from me. Deal?”

 

Xie Huaishuang didn’t speak. I didn’t know what he was thinking; the lamplight flickered in his eyes. Just as I thought he might refuse, he smiled again.

 

This man usually smiled very faintly, like a magnolia petal unfurling half an inch. But this was different—it was as if the full radiance of spring had landed on his brow.

 

“Alright. I won’t hide anything from you in the future,” he said, his smile brightened by the firelight. “I won’t hide from you again—I promise.”

 

Gazes have no temperature. How can a look have warmth?

 

When I snapped back to my senses, I realized I had accidentally knocked the pile of chestnut shells off the table, scattering them across the floor.

 

What exactly is going on between us?

 

Xie Huaishuang, oblivious to the “mischief” he’d caused, reached out his hand again: “Another one.”

 

I stuffed it into his hand, poking his palm in the process. This man is becoming increasingly good at ordering people around; it seems learning to be “bad” is truly an easy feat.

 

With a chestnut in his mouth, his right cheek puffed out slightly. He mumbled: “Next time, it’ll be my turn to shell them for you.”

 

“We’ll see about next time.”

 

Truthfully, though I’m not that idle, I could spare a bit of time. If he begged me a little, I might be persuaded to shell chestnuts for him again.

 

I have my principles. He must at least ask.

 

“Aren’t you eating?” Xie Huaishuang didn’t pull his hand back after taking the chestnut; instead, he reached closer to me. “Why only give them to me? Do you not like them?”

 

As he spoke, his fingertips brushed against my hand, light as a feather.

 

Fine. He doesn’t have to beg.

 

…

 

In the evening, Xie Huaishuang told me twice: “If there’s any commotion at night, ignore me. I can handle it myself.”

 

I watched him sit behind the screen again, as he had these past few days. I clenched my fists, my eyes fixed on the self-walking clock, clutching the medicine bottle.

 

He wouldn’t allow me by his side, saying I would get in his way, telling me I should draw my blueprints or sleep. I could only sit on the other side of the screen, watching his silhouette appear and disappear with the shifting moonlight.

 

At the third watch, I poured out the medicine according to the time, when I suddenly heard a faint, stifled gasp from behind the curtains.

 

It was suppressed almost to nothingness, nearly drowned out by the creaking of the iron carriages on the distant rails.

 

I poured water and hurried through the layers of red silk. Sure enough, Xie Huaishuang was huddled against the corner of the wall, the bedding in a chaotic mess.

 

His jaw was locked tight. I tapped his hand three or four times before his eyes slowly lifted, the deep green depths looking as if they might dissolve and overflow at any second.

 

Ye Jingwei hadn’t detailed the exact agony of the Rebel Sovereign backlash.

 

“It’s too rare. There are only fragments in ancient texts, I wouldn’t dare speculate,” she had said then. “I don’t know where he learned it. If you really want to know, perhaps go back and ask the City… never mind, there’s no point. Just don’t let him practice it again. The backlash becomes more severe each time.”

 

His palms were soaked with sweat, but he could still respond slightly to the words I wrote.

 

“Take the medicine… take it.”

 

I repeated it several times. I saw his eyelashes tremble; he opened his mouth slightly, took the pill, his teeth clicking against the rim of the cup. After ensuring he swallowed, I set the cup aside, but he suddenly grabbed me.

 

The room was unlit; everything was a blur of shadows. Xie Huaishuang lowered his head, gripping my lapels tightly.

 

I couldn’t see his expression, only his furrowed brow. I tried to move him gently, and heard him mumble my name incoherently.

 

“What…”

 

I didn’t finish writing, nor could I. His entire weight suddenly pressed against me as he leaned onto my shoulder. His hands tugged messily at my collar, his face pressed against my neck. The searing heat of his skin startled me.

 

Xie Huaishuang called out again, his voice muddled: “Zhu Pingsheng.”

 

I instinctively pulled him into my arms. I felt his body relax. As I rubbed his back, I heard him still whispering: “…Zhu Pingsheng.”

 

I wrote in his hand once, but he didn’t react. I wrote again: “I’m here.”

 

I kept writing it until he showed a glimmer of awareness. I held him tighter, brushing the sweat-dampened hair from his forehead.

 

His whispers faded into a blur. Suddenly, he bit down on the back of his own hand, a sound escaping his throat.

 

I forced his hand away. The moment his teeth clamped onto my forearm, a sharp pain radiated through me. His grip loosened and tightened rhythmically. I tilted my head back, my other hand supporting him, patting his back.

 

Everything was a mess—I didn’t even know what I was thinking. The intermittent gasps, the hot scent of iron, the sweat-soaked hair.

 

After an unknown amount of time, Xie Huaishuang’s breathing finally stabilized. He released my arm, leaving a faint row of bloody marks.

 

His trembling subsided, and I finally dared to let out a breath. I looked down at him; he turned his head, those unfocused emerald eyes lifting to look at me in the dim light, inches away.

 

—With that single look, the string taut in my heart finally snapped, scattering like shattered jade.

 

He is so important to me—more important than I could have ever imagined. What exactly does this mean?

 

I glanced at Xie Huaishuang. He leaned on my shoulder with tired eyes, my hand resting on the back of his neck.

 

What is the reason? This isn’t how I act with my senior brother, my senior sister, or my best friends.

 

Xie Huaishuang remained oblivious, nuzzling against the crook of my neck in his muddled state. I closed my eyes.

 

Whatever.

 

I closed my eyes, stopped thinking, and slowly patted his back.

 

I don’t know what this counts as, but it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, I accept it.

 

…

 

In the morning, Xie Huaishuang was back to his usual self. He sat up slowly, dazed for a moment, then pushed the quilt aside and felt for his shoes.

 

Before he woke, I had already removed his hands from my body and scrambled out of bed. I checked three times to make sure the wound on my arm was hidden. Now, I sat at the table pretending to know nothing, quietly watching him look for his hair ribbon and comb.

 

Xie Huaishuang sat on the edge of the bed, his hair spilling over the bedding. I watched him gather it at the nape of his neck and tie the ribbon into a knot, exactly as he always did.

 

Perhaps he knew nothing of last night?

 

I pulled at my sleeve, and just as I was speculating, he called out: “Last night… um, did I disturb you?”

 

His expression was natural, as if he remembered nothing. I breathed a sigh of relief and went over to ask: “You didn’t disturb me much. Did the medicine work?”

 

Xie Huaishuang blinked and nodded: “It worked.”

 

Since he could say that, he truly must not remember.

 

Xie Huaishuang reached for a nearby cabinet, pulling out a drawer to rummage through something. With his back to me, he suddenly laughed: “Last night… I had a dream.”

 

“What did you dream of?”

 

“Mm… better not say.” He was quiet for a moment. “It was a bit… a bit absurd. I won’t say.”

 

This man… always leaving things half-said.

 

I was about to tell him that wasn’t a good habit when he stuffed something into my hand. It was two pink tourmaline necklaces.

 

“What’s this?”

 

Xie Huaishuang pointed and went back to rummaging: “Valuables. They used to keep a close eye on these. It would be a waste to let them burn, so we’ll take them.”

 

That made perfect sense. I checked the quality against the light, suddenly remembering an old event.

 

Ten years ago, the first time we met, he had severed two strings of jade beads I had already secured with a single sword strike.

 

Xie Huaishuang was still busily digging through the drawer when I poked his palm. He looked up blankly: “What is it?”

 

“…Nothing.”

 

The final day at Linlang Pavilion passed quickly in a blur of preparations. By the time Xie Huaishuang and I sat down again, the sky had gradually darkened.

 

“How long until the mechanisms trigger?”

 

I glanced at the self-walking clock: “Half an hour.”

 

Triggering the mechanisms, evacuating the people, stopping the managers—he and I had rehearsed every step.

 

Not much longer. In less than an hour, the moon would be at its zenith, and the stars would be bright.

 

Xie Huaishuang nodded, his knuckles tapping the longsword resting on his lap.

 

I would lend him the finest Cloud-Cutter one more time.

 

“I have one more thing to tell you.”

 

He had been quiet for a long time when he suddenly looked up, his long lashes lifting to reveal those two emerald pools reflecting my image.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Something good, in any case,” he said, his eyes crinkling. “You’ll know in a little while.”

 

his final words were drowned out. A muffled boom sounded outside, followed by a sudden flash of fire that illuminated the night. Chaotic footsteps immediately erupted overhead.

 

The time had come.