Still Secretly In Love With My Enemy Today - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: 

 

Linlang Pavilion was a portrait of absolute chaos.

 

The eastern corner of the fourth floor, the western corridor of the third, and beneath the stage on the first—these three mechanisms were the first to trigger. As Xie Huaishuang and I stepped out, we looked over the railings to see a blur of firelight, overturned tables, spilled wine, and tangled silks. Doors were being flung open in panic; cries of “Fire!” and “Run!” echoed incessantly.

 

Chunhua and the others were leading the charge, of course. Had anyone stayed calm, they would have realized the fire wasn’t actually that large yet—it just needed a bit of a “push.”

 

“Be careful.”

 

I urged Xie Huaishuang once more. His gaze fell on me, his brow furrowed.

 

“You too.”

 

Linlang Pavilion faced east, with northern and southern wings facing each other inside. The southern side was more treacherous. According to our plan, we would each take one side: I took the south, he took the north.

 

Earlier, when I was arming him from head to toe, he was actually laughing. Holding his sword, he asked: “Are you treating me like one of your mechanical toolboxes?”

 

He could still laugh. Just thinking about what he was about to do made my heart skip a beat.

 

“I know you’re powerful, and they are no match for you right now,” I couldn’t help but write in his hand one more time, “but get hurt as little as possible. If anything feels wrong, call me.”

 

I guided his hand to the iron buckle on his waist. “If things go south, press this. I’ll come to you immediately, alright?”

 

Xie Huaishuang tapped the back of my hand quickly with his sword hilt and pointed to the buckle. “Don’t worry. If I can’t win, I’ll press it.” Before turning away, he repeated: “You must be careful, too.”

 

I watched his cloak swirl as he vanished around the corner like a swift fish. Then, with my sword drawn three inches from its scabbard, I turned to intercept two of the pavilion’s managers.

 

…

 

By the end of the first fifteen minutes, Linlang Pavilion was nearly empty.

 

Everything went much smoother than I had imagined. I couldn’t see Xie Huaishuang’s exact position or speak a word to him, but it felt as if our thoughts were in perfect alignment.

 

It had always been this way—it made opposing him a nightmare, but working together like this, we moved in perfect synchronicity.

 

Amidst the flickering flames, I saw a silhouette in light red flash past the main entrance. Someone tried to pursue her, but I blocked them with my sword. They screamed something I couldn’t hear; I simply knocked them unconscious and tossed them out the door.

 

Counting the girl who just ran out, there was only one person left on the register I hadn’t seen.

 

As I was calculating, the needle on my waist-mounted compass suddenly jerked toward a specific direction, and my breath hitched along with it.

 

It pointed to the eastern side of the second floor. I immediately charged back into the smoke, throwing out a steel cable to grapple and swing myself upward. The moment I heard the sound of whistling air, I instinctively raised my sword to parry. The impact sent a numb shock through my thumb.

 

The space was narrow and cramped, the smoke thick enough to draw tears. Through the shifting shadows of fire and soot, I couldn’t see the assailant clearly. I only saw a figure stumble back two steps as a familiar silver glint flashed past my side, following up the attack.

 

“This one is troublesome,” Xie Huaishuang said quickly as he passed me. “She sprained her ankle; get her out.”

 

The clash of metal erupted again. The sword shadows in Xie Huaishuang’s hand were a blur, forcing the opponent back step by step. I looked back and saw a young woman huddled in the corner—the last one on the list.

 

We were on the second floor. Seeing the stairs were still mostly intact, I hoisted her up and pushed her toward them, just as Chunhua came running up, clutching her skirts.

 

She had already come back several times to ensure no one was left behind. I pushed the girl toward her; Chunhua caught the message instantly, grabbed her, and supported her as they ran for the exit.

 

The moment I turned back, I saw Xie Huaishuang leaning back sharply, his long hair touching the floor as the opponent’s longsword whistled past the tip of his nose.

 

In a heartbeat, he flipped and kicked the sword away, his own blade lunging forward. As he withdrew it, blood began to drip. In the flicker of the fire, I caught sight of the phoenix medallion at the opponent’s waist.

 

A member of the Temple.

 

The Temple agent’s sword hit the floor, and he rolled away into a side corridor. I started to give chase, but a burning curtain suddenly collapsed in front of me, sending sparks flying everywhere.

 

“Don’t chase, that path is blocked,” Xie Huaishuang pulled me back. “Go.”

 

The stairs were gone now. He gripped my hand tightly; I saw him nod, and together we stepped onto the railing and leaped from the second floor.

 

The moment we cleared the building, the main gates of Linlang Pavilion collapsed behind us with a thunderous roar, and the flames surged toward the sky.

 

Xie Huaishuang stumbled slightly. Before I could speak, he waved his hand: “I’m fine.”

 

I noticed his eyes were red from the smoke, but they shone with an extraordinary light in the night, reflecting the moon and the fire.

 

Behind him, I saw a flurry of papers fluttering like snowflakes. I could just barely recognize them as indentured servitude contracts before the tongues of fire swallowed them whole. A small, thin figure vanished into the crowd of onlookers in the distance.

 

Coral. She had likely stolen them. But this time, I couldn’t find a single word to scold her for stealing from the madam.

 

In the distance, a cluster of purple signal fireworks rose into the air, vanishing into the night.

 

It was the signal I had given Chunhua. The fireworks meant everyone who escaped had been settled and was following the pre-arranged routes out of the city.

 

The roar of the fire, the shouting of the crowd, the night wind, the approaching footsteps, and the clashing of weapons—it was a cacophony. The pursuers had all been drawn toward us. Xie Huaishuang stepped closer to me, his eyes narrowing and then widening. “Where do we go now?”

 

With a sea of fire and an army behind us, he asked almost cheerfully, his hair flying in the night wind.

 

“Follow me.”

 

Linlang Pavilion was being swallowed by flames. For some reason, I felt the urge to ask him the same question I had asked at the start: “I’m taking you away, alright?”

 

Xie Huaishuang smiled. Holding his sword in his left hand, he extended his right, wanting me to take it.

 

“Alright.”

 

…

 

I had moved the Iron Vermillion Bird to a closer location. As I pulled him through the maze of alleys in the night, I asked: “Was that person just now from the Temple?”

 

“Yes. Not a regular Priest; they shouldn’t have been here.”

 

My heart skipped a beat, then I heard him continue: “Perhaps they recognized me. You…”

 

“We’ll talk about that later.”

 

“Aren’t you afraid?”

 

“No.”

 

Cutting him off, I suddenly remembered what he had said an hour ago about “something good” he wanted to tell me.

 

“What were you going to tell me earlier?”

 

“Wait a little longer,” his voice was light and airy in the wind. “Not much longer. Just wait.”

 

Whether it was the local authorities or the Temple, I could already see the shadows of the pursuers. But what did it matter?

 

My Iron Vermillion Bird is the finest kite-machine in the world. No one could catch us.

 

Sixteen days ago, when I pulled the lever and took off, I swore I would settle the score with that detestable Priest.

 

And now, as the iron wings beat against the air and the machine lifted off the ground, I turned to look at Xie Huaishuang. In the depths of his eyes, I saw my own blurry reflection.

 

Before the fight, we had both put on bamboo hats to look the part. No real reason—we just both thought it made us look more like the heroes from a storyteller’s tale.

 

“Zhu Pingsheng.”

 

Outside the window, the iron wings reflected the firelight, glowing red like the wings of the mythical Vermillion Bird. I heard him call me and turned to meet his smiling eyes, filled with dancing light and shadows.

 

I felt something was different. With the hat on, his hair tied neatly at his neck, and his dark green robes, he looked sharp and capable with his longsword.

 

Without the complex patterns, masks, ornaments, or heavy makeup, he looked lighter than I had ever seen him.

 

But it was more than that. What else was different?

 

“I’ll tell you now,” he said, staring at me, his eyes crinkling. “The good thing I mentioned.”

 

“What?”

 

He didn’t speak, just looked at me with that smile, his fingertip touching the space between my brows. I suddenly realized.

 

“I can see you now,” Xie Huaishuang’s fingertip lifted. “I can see what you look like.”

 

“How…”

 

I looked at him in disbelief, only to find that his deep green eyes truly had a focus. My face, my hair, my entire being—even the firelit iron wings outside the window—were no longer just shadows on the surface of his eyes.

 

“I begged Physician Ye.” He didn’t look away for a second. “Last time I practiced Rebel Sovereign, I felt my sight and hearing temporarily return a little. She helped me find a way.”

 

He seemed truly, deeply happy. A smile flowed from his brow to his eyes, from his cheeks to his lips.

 

The next time Ye Jingwei insults me, I won’t say a word back.

 

“It won’t last long… I’ll probably lose it again by dawn.” Xie Huaishuang blinked—finally deigning to blink. “But it’s enough. Before I truly recover my sight, at least I know… I know what you look like.”

 

I’ve never been one to care about my appearance, but I hesitated for a moment before asking: “…Is it good?”

 

Xie Huaishuang tilted his head, his thumb resting gently below my brow.

 

“It’s good,” he said seriously. “The best—the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

 

My heart felt as if it had been brushed by a feather. I wanted to look at him, yet I didn’t dare. I pulled him closer to the window. “Don’t just look at me—look outside.”

 

Below, the lights of the town were scattered like stars, and the distant fire illuminated half the horizon. Looking up, a massive bright moon hung high in the sky, and the galaxy—I glanced at Xie Huaishuang—the galaxy was shimmering brilliantly.

 

His eyes widened, and he pressed his hands against the glass, leaning in. His eyelashes fluttered, casting a curious shadow on the pane.

 

“Where is this?”

 

The kite-machine was set on its course, so I didn’t need to tend to it for a while. I stood by the window with him, pointing out the layered mountains and the scattered towns one by one.

 

Xie Huaishuang listened and nodded. I told him: “In the future, if you want to see them, we can go to all of them.”

 

He was almost free now. I watched the moonlight flicker across his face, his features clear and relaxed—a moon shining over spring mountains and green waters.

 

He had escaped from the Temple, from Linlang Pavilion, from lies, manipulation, self-doubt, and a hundred humiliations. Once Ye Jingwei cured him, he would be completely free. He wouldn’t even need me to guide him.

 

Hearing this, Xie Huaishuang blinked and turned back to me.

 

“Do you… would you want to see all these places?”

 

I didn’t quite understand. He whispered: “If you want to… can we go together?”

 

Those “feathers” started floating around in my chest again. I turned away, lest he see that my breathing had skipped several beats.

 

“If you’re willing,” I said, trying to sound normal, “it’s fine with me.”

 

Xie Huaishuang smiled, his fingers pressing against the window.

 

“Then it’s a promise.”

 

…

 

Late in the night, a layer of frost formed on the window, a hazy white. Xie Huaishuang stared at it for a while and traced something in the corner. Just as I moved to look, he quickly wiped it away, his palm getting wet.

 

“Why won’t you let me see?”

 

Xie Huaishuang didn’t look at me, but his voice was perfectly justified: “Why should I let you see what I wrote?”

 

“…”

 

I started doodling in the other corner, laughing exaggeratedly as I did. When he looked over, I wiped it away too. “Why are you looking at what I wrote?”

 

Xie Huaishuang gave a cold snort. “Childish.”

 

Well, I had just doodled his name. By extension, he was calling himself childish.

 

As the east began to turn white, Xie Huaishuang spent more and more time staring at me.

 

To him, one look should be enough to remember my face. Why did he need to keep looking?

 

I told him: “Dawn is coming. The sunrise will be beautiful.”

 

He nodded, glanced outside briefly, and then quietly moved his gaze back to me, squinting slightly.

 

The words I was going to say died in my throat. “Can you… can you still see?”

 

“Yes,” Xie Huaishuang smiled. “Just not as clearly as before.”

 

As the clouds turned red, Xie Huaishuang squinted and asked softly: “Is the sun coming out?”

 

“Yes.”

 

When I finished, I noticed he didn’t react. I froze, then tried writing the words in his palm as I used to.

 

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Then we made it in time.”

 

He had lost his hearing again.

 

The clouds rolled past like waves. The moment the red sun broke through the morning mist, I saw Xie Huaishuang struggle to open his eyes wide before squinting again. The golden light outlined every strand of his hair.

 

“I see it.”

 

He suddenly turned his head, his gaze locked onto my face. A moment later, he closed his eyes, hiding those two wavering emerald pools. A split second before he opened his now-blind eyes again, I instinctively pulled him into a hug. I heard him give a very soft laugh against my ear.

 

“In such a sad moment,” I felt like I was going to cry, “what are you laughing at?”

 

Xie Huaishuang was still laughing, his voice muffled.

 

“It’s already good enough.” He patted my back gently. “Besides, didn’t you say Physician Ye could cure me?”

 

But that would still take a long time. Ye Jingwei said it could be half a month, two months, or even longer.

 

“There is still a lot of time ahead.”

 

Xie Huaishuang lifted his head, his unfocused gaze landing on my face.

 

“There’s plenty of time, right?”

 

The sunlight made him look radiant. I brushed a few locks of hair from his forehead and took his hand.

 

“Yes,” I wrote, stroke by stroke. “There is plenty.”

 

How much? I didn’t know, but I thought it would be a very, very long time.

 

More than a thousand, more than ten thousand.

 

---

 

THE END