Chapter 15: Tide’s Kiss

“Hey, how about I help you kill her?”

The boy’s voice fell softly by her ear, gloomy and low, yet carrying the brightness of youth, as if speaking of something trivial.

“Even if they’re deeply in love, so what? Kill her, and he’ll be yours alone.”

Sang Ying slapped her hand over his face. “Put away those dangerous thoughts.”

The girl, severely injured, had little strength left; even slapping his face was a light touch. Wei Li only felt something soft press against his cheek, accompanied by a faint fragrance. It wasn’t until she withdrew her hand that he snapped back to reality.

He rubbed his face awkwardly, averting his eyes. “Why so fierce? I’m just trying to help you think of a solution.”

“Is this Shuiyue Jinghua?” Sang Ying stared at the mirrors and asked.

“Mhm.”

Shuiyue Jinghua was a type of spiritual illusionary artifact that activated silently and undetectably by its target.

Those who entered the illusionary realm would find it difficult to realize they were trapped, as one moment they might be chatting with a friend, and the next, the smiling reply from their friend would already be part of the illusion, continuing their daily life, day after day.

Shuiyue Jinghua would detect the deepest desires of its target and present them in a way that felt most reasonable to the target’s innermost self.

For example, if a loved one had died, the target wouldn’t directly resurrect them but would be given a glimmer of hope. They would be made aware of an extremely difficult method to bring their beloved back, even if it meant sacrificing many things. Would they pursue it?

After enduring pain and struggle, and exerting countless efforts, the beloved would finally return to their side. By then, they would be deeply entrenched in Shuiyue Jinghua, unable to escape.

Sang Ying recalled the details from the book. Shuiyue Jinghua wasn’t Wei Li’s artifact but belonged to his father, the Devil Lord. This time, he had secretly brought it out.

In terms of strength alone, he was no match for Xie Lingyu and the others, which was why he had devised such a method.

However, with his current abilities, he could only unleash about one-tenth of the artifact’s power. At most, this Shuiyue Jinghua could create two layers of illusions, insufficient to trap Xie Lingyu. Thus, in this storyline, Wei Li’s plan ended in miserable failure, and he was severely injured.

Sang Ying thought for a moment, then took out the Glazed Mirror and began tinkering with it.

“What are you doing?” Wei Li curiously leaned over to look, but Sang Ying had already finished and put it away. She leaned against a tree, slowly standing up, her pale face coughing lightly.

Sang Ying stared at the dusty mirror surface. “Why can’t I see anything?”

Mentioning it only made Wei Li grit his teeth. “It’s all because of your dear husband, stabbing me with that sword. Otherwise, I’d be leisurely watching them being played for fools right now.”

“This thing… the illusions it creates are what one most desires to see?” she asked softly, standing before the mirror.

“Of course.”

Wei Li leaned against a tree stump, raising an eyebrow. “What, you want to experience it too? It wouldn’t hurt to try. Even if you can’t get out, I can pull you back.”

As he spoke, he formed a hand seal, about to summon another water mirror. But when he turned his head, he saw the girl step forward and walk into the gray mirror. He was startled.

“Wait, that’s…!”

…

“Xie…”

The girl’s bright red wedding dress lay scattered on the ground, crimson flowers blooming across her pale face.

Her unfocused eyes stared in one direction. With an unwilling, soft whisper, a trail of blood flowed from the corner of her lips to the ground.

The sword tip pierced through the throat.

A single strike sealed her fate, and the young girl fell silent forever.

The youth’s gaze swept over her face, his icy eyes revealing undisguised disgust as he withdrew the sword, raising it slightly. Drops of blood from the blade fell onto her face.

The sharp edge sliced through delicate skin, blooming with crimson flowers.

The blood seethed and churned restlessly. His gaze remained indifferent as he watched the face become unrecognizable, yet instead of calming, his agitation only grew.

“Xie Lingyu? What are you doing?”

In the quiet night, a girl’s voice suddenly rang out from behind, like a beam of light abruptly piercing the dead silence of the pitch-black darkness.

He turned around. A girl in wedding attire sat far away on the edge of the bed, lifting the Red Veil with one hand to reveal a delicate, petite face. Her eyes, as clear and bright as the moon, looked at him with confusion.

The red candles flickered faintly. Sang Ying scanned the scene before her and recognized it as the day she and Xie Lingyu were married.

So this was the illusionary realm she most wanted to see. The Xie Lingyu before her still had the appearance of a youth, much more youthful and inexperienced than he was now. It truly stirred nostalgia.

But what was that patch of red on the floor around the corner behind him? Had the curtains fallen?

Was that there three years ago? She hadn’t noticed—back then, she had been too busy crying.

Sang Ying watched as the youth walked up to her and stopped.

A heavy scent of blood washed over her. She was sensitive to such smells and couldn’t help but furrow her brows.

By the candlelight, she examined his red robes closely. They were layered and stained with blood, a deep, dark crimson.

“Xie Lingyu, are you hurt?”

Sang Ying looked up. The dim candlelight illuminated the youth’s face. His dark, deep eyes were cold and indifferent, devoid of emotion, looking at her as if she were nothing more than a lifeless object.

The moment their eyes met, she couldn’t help but tremble. A chilling numbness crept up her spine, and she instantly lost her strength.

Her small face was seized by cold fingers and lifted.

Sang Ying was forced to look up at him, her gaze growing panicked as her body began to tremble faintly.

This was an unease born of broken habits and shattered normalcy. Xie Lingyu had never treated her like this before. In her memory, Xie Lingyu at this time had been gentle and quiet, holding her in his arms and whispering words of comfort.

Was the person before her… truly Xie Lingyu?

In her panic, Sang Ying caught a glimpse of the blood continuously flowing from the corner and suddenly realized that the “curtains” were actually a fallen corpse.

Her mind went blank. Only then did she notice the eerie silence around her, so quiet that she could hear her own tense breathing.

But at this moment three years ago, the outside had been filled with joyous music and the clamor of guests.

Had everyone outside… died?

The fingers gripping her jaw suddenly tightened. Sang Ying’s heart trembled as she stared into those pitch-black eyes. Cold sweat dripped down her back, and her spine stiffened.

Nervously, she moistened her dry lips and spoke cautiously:

“Xie… Mmm!”

Her voice was swallowed in her mouth.

The next moment, Sang Ying’s eyes widened in shock.

The bright moonlight of the full moon spilled through the window lattice, and light crimson gauze drifted gently, brushing against the moonlight.

Under the moonlight, the youth cupped her small face, lifting it as he leaned down to kiss her. His pale fingers inadvertently slipped through her dark hair, tangling with a few strands.

Cool and soft.

Carrying the familiar scent of White Sandalwood.

The sensation on her lips left Sang Ying stunned. It took her a moment to realize—Xie Lingyu was… kissing her?

Her ears instantly flushed bright red. W-was this… what she most wanted in the illusionary realm?

But Xie Lingyu already had a girl he liked—this was wrong! He loved Shen Ying, not her. She was merely his junior sister.

Sang Ying instinctively reached out to push him away, but her hand froze in mid-air before it could touch him.

This was just an illusionary realm…

She suddenly remembered that this was only her illusionary realm, not the real him.

He was kissing her because this was what she desired—an illusionary realm born from her own longing.

Once the illusionary realm ended, everything would be over. She would make things clear with him, and from then on, they would only be senior and junior siblings.

He would never know.

So… even if she did something with the illusionary version of him here, would it really matter?

Sang Ying slowly closed her eyes, her lashes trembling slightly.

She raised her hand bit by bit, letting it rest lightly on the young man’s arm, then slowly grasped his sleeve.

At first, the young man’s kiss was gentle—his cool lips pressed softly against hers, full of inexperience.

As if confirming something, he cradled her face and slowly, tenderly, kissed her again and again.

Sang Ying’s heart pounded wildly, the sound of her heartbeat drumming chaotically against her eardrums.

Unable to hold back, she tightened her fingers, clutching the fabric in her grasp.

But the young man seemed to awaken, pausing briefly before his movements turned fierce, capturing her lips and sucking on them.

So fierce.

Their warm, soft lips intertwined and rubbed together. With each lick and suck, the scent of White Sandalwood lingered and spread between their lips, even seeping in slightly—Sang Ying could taste it spreading across her tongue.

Her lips began to ache from the intensity of the kiss. In pain, Sang Ying couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper.

Xie Lingyu usually appeared aloof and indifferent, like an unattainable flower on a high peak. Who would have thought his kiss could be so fierce, as if he wanted to devour her?

No.

This was an illusionary realm, so this was merely how she imagined Xie Lingyu to be.

Perhaps Shuiyue Jinghua truly could perceive the deepest desires of her heart. Three years ago, on that unbearable night, she had also fantasized about someone who could clear away all the painful noise and pull her out of that festive abyss.

Suddenly, her lips stung—the young man had bitten her.

Sang Ying snapped back to attention. It seemed he was dissatisfied with her distraction and kissed her even more fiercely.

Sang Ying had never kissed anyone before and had no idea how to regulate her breathing. Coupled with his ferocity, she soon found herself struggling for air.

She gripped his arm, wanting him to stop. “Xie… mmm.”

But opening her mouth gave the young man an opportunity—his tongue pushed past her lips and slipped inside.

Sang Ying trembled, quickly closing her mouth, but it was already too late. The scent of White Sandalwood completely invaded her, parting her teeth.

Is… is this how kissing is supposed to be?

While Sang Ying was still dazed, the young man’s cool fingers threaded through her dark hair, cupping the back of her head and deepening the damp, fervent kiss.

Sang Ying’s consciousness was soon overwhelmed by sensory stimulation. The taste of White Sandalwood swept through every corner of her mouth, bit by bit, occupying every crevice.

Even her timid, retreating tongue was found, tangled and teased.

Sang Ying felt her mind spinning, her damp lashes trembling incessantly with each kiss, like a startled butterfly fluttering uncontrollably.

“Mmm…”

It felt like…

She was going to be devoured by him.

A glistening teardrop hung from the corner of her reddened eye.

Sang Ying couldn’t take it anymore and tried to pull away, shrinking back in retreat, but her slender wrist was seized and yanked violently, sending her crashing into the youth’s embrace, followed by an even fiercer kiss.

Forced to tilt her small face upward to endure it, the Red Veil hanging from her hairpin also fell onto the bed.

“…”

Sang Ying fell into self-doubt.

So… was she actually a long-hidden pervert who had always wanted Xie Lingyu to treat her like this?