The Beautiful Pariah Thought He Could Be Loved - Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Xin Qishu’s Head Throbbed as if Pierced by Needles…

…

Is there a price for every attempt to exploit a loophole?

Is suffering an inescapable requirement for becoming “better”?

Xin Qishu had once seen a peculiar kind of fruit: a round, orange orb that, once ripe, developed a skin like a thin layer of brittle paper.

On a certain sweltering day, he had watched a hand grasp that fruit, rubbing the skin incessantly with a palm. The movements were rough, yet the strength behind them was subtle—as if the person cherished the fruit even while handling it clumsily. The brittle paper rubbed together, making a faint, rustling sound.

At this moment, Xin Qishu’s heart felt exactly like that fruit. It was fully ripe, its skin parched into paper, being kneaded by an unknown hand. The outer layer, which looked ready to fall off at any second, was actually intimately connected to the flesh; whenever the skin shifted, the flesh was forcibly torn with it.

It’s alright, it’s alright, he told himself. Just as He Huaqing said, once he took this step, he would slowly become better. This was a path he had to cross…

The person he loved was by his side, he was improving himself, and a beautiful life lay ahead…

Visions of the future flooded his mind. Xin Qishu bit his lower lip hard, doubling over in pain until he was pulled into He Huaqing’s embrace. A familiar scent enveloped him, and he slumped weakly into the man’s arms as his vision flickered to black…

“It’ll be over in a second, just a second, Little Qi.”

He called me Little Qi…

“Just this once… just this once.”

Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. Xin Qishu leaned against He Huaqing’s shoulder, whimpering softly. In his line of sight, the sea-green sky and the scorched-black tree trunks blurred into abstract lines, spreading wantonly toward the heavens.

Suddenly, he wanted to look at He Huaqing. He turned his head and saw He Huaqing’s back as the man stared into a mirror. On the clear surface of the glass was a version of He Huaqing that looked slightly different from the one standing there now.

Crackle.

The man in the mirror had a gentle expression, carrying a hint of unfamiliarity mixed with deep concern.

His pale green eyes met Xin Qishu’s in a haunting gaze.

Crackle.

Xin Qishu heard a crisp snap. In the shifting light and shadow, he seemed to return to that afternoon. The skin of the fruit had been crushed; the flesh had been squeezed into a pulp, leaving a sticky juice coating the hand.

Xiao Bai’s face flashed before his eyes, his voice echoing faintly:

“Fayu Temple has a treasure called the Mirror of the Sea of Sins. With just a single drop of blood, this mirror can reveal every karmic bond a person has.”

“How many people they’ve killed, whom they’ve loved—it’s all made crystal clear.”

In the next instant, the image shifted back to He Huaqing. Specks of light danced across his face, highlighting the deep sockets of his eyes and the bridge of his straight nose. He Huaqing said to him:

“I used to think you would harm people… but I believe now that you haven’t.”

“I believe you…”

A chaotic tide of emotions surged up, pushing the physical pain to the back of his mind. Xin Qishu stared at him with a gaze full of resentment, his voice sounding as if it were weeping blood: “This is the Mirror of the Sea of Sins. Hi Huaqing, you lied to me.”

Clatter. The mirror fell to the ground.

In the dark of the night, He Huaqing looked at him with panic—an expression Xin Qishu had never seen on him before. The man’s body trembled, and he held Xin Qishu even tighter, stammering frantically, “No, listen to me…”

Their faces were inches apart. Xin Qishu squinted, studying that panicked face. Huaqing’s eyes looked sincere, yet he remained tongue-tied, unable to say a word. The fire in Xin Qishu’s heart burned higher and higher, parching his throat.

Drawing strength from an unknown source, Xin Qishu shoved him away and roared: “You still think I’ve killed many people, don’t you?”

For a long time, his image had been shrouded by the malice of the masses. Countless lives had been blamed on him, his reputation constantly distorted, yet none of it came close to the truth of who he was.

Many people had passed through his life, but none had ever truly seen him. Deep within, Xin Qishu carried a profound sense of loneliness.

He thought He Huaqing had seen past those shadows—that he was finally being truly seen and embraced. He thought he wasn’t lonely anymore.

But now…

It felt as if he had fallen into a void in an instant.

“Is it Fayu Temple?” Xin Qishu asked hoarsely.

“What?” Huaqing didn’t hear him clearly.

Xin Qishu continued to himself, “I never intended to kill them, and I didn’t kidnap them. I only… gave them money to have them help me act out a play.”

“They were good people; they agreed to help me,” he sobbed. “Didn’t you say you believed me? You…”

His heart suddenly throbbed with a sharp pain. His vision blurred, and Xin Qishu clutched his chest as he collapsed to the ground. A dull ache throbbed in his forehead. Huaqing’s shouting rang out fuzzily in his ears; it felt as though someone was trying to support him.

Xin Qishu stared fixedly at the mirror lying a few steps away. The person in the mirror hadn’t changed; it was still He Huaqing.

The He Huaqing from a hundred and fifty years ago.

One hundred and fifty years ago, the internal wars of the Demon Race were gradually subsiding, and Xuerong Palace had firmly established its leading position. Fei Jia received news that the two of them would soon be able to return to the Demon Abyss.

Xin Qishu knew that if he wanted to increase his cultivation after reaching Foundation Establishment, he would have to use unconventional methods.

Whether he could use those methods depended on Xin Sha’s opinion of him.

That year, a demonic cultivator was running rampant in the Red River region. In just six months, he had killed his way from the Southern Forest to the Central Plains, staining the waters of the Red River a deep crimson. The Immortal Alliance was on the verge of issuing a formal decree to crusade against him.

That demonic cultivator didn’t just kill cultivators and mortals; he killed Demons as well. He had incited public outrage even within the Demon Abyss. He was the perfect target.

Xin Qishu planned to kill the demonic cultivator to win Xin Sha’s favor.

He and Fei Jia split up. He went to the Southern Forest to uncover the demonic cultivator’s background, while Fei Jia followed the man to track his movements.

The demonic cultivator’s name was Susu. Originally, he was a disciple of a small sect near the Southern Forest. He was introverted, had average spiritual roots, and his master wasn’t a powerful figure; the two of them were often marginalized. Before a beast tide arrived, Susu was assigned to help mortals evacuate. Unfortunately, he was trapped by the early arrival of the tide. His master was killed by monsters while trying to save him.

Because of this, Susu fell into demonhood.

To be prepared for any situation, Xin Qishu obtained Tang Chen’s Leaf Vein Sword from a Great Demon in the Southern Forest.

Then he went to reunite with Fei Jia, and after that…

Xin Qishu’s head throbbed as if pierced by needles. He didn’t want to think about it anymore! Suddenly, a coolness touched his forehead, and something forced its way between his brows into his sea of consciousness. Xin Qishu’s eyes flew wide open.