Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Shanyulai Inn (II): Sharing a Bed and Pillow The room was not large, and its furnishings were simple. There was a table with two chairs, an oil lamp, a wooden window, and a bed just wide enough for two people to lie side by side. The waiter set down the kettle of hot water, then tactfully withdrew and closed the door behind him. With a soft click, the door shut. Qiao Ying stared at it, then turned to look at Cen Yunyu. The youth had already walked over to the table. He removed the strange black umbrella from his waist and propped it against the corner of the wall. He untied the black ribbon binding his hair. His crow-black hair spilled down like a waterfall, making his face appear even paler and more eerily beautiful. “We’ve been tired all day. Won’t A Ying rest?” He tilted his head to look at her, candlelight flickering in his eyes. Qiao Ying swallowed, her gaze shifting between the bed and the floor. Anyone could figure out who would sleep in the bed and who would sleep on the floor. In any case, she absolutely didn’t dare let the great villain sleep on the floor. But if she, as his “wife,” took the initiative to suggest sleeping separately, wouldn’t that arouse suspicion? “I—I’m suddenly not tired.” She forced a dry laugh. “Young Master Cen, you should sleep first. I’ll just sit for a while.” Cen Yunyu raised an eyebrow and walked over to her. He was too close. Qiao Ying could smell the faint scent of blood on him, mixed with a cold fragrance reminiscent of pine needles after snow. She held her breath, her back pressing against the door. “What is A Ying afraid of?” He bent toward her, lowering his voice. His warm breath brushed over her ear. “Since we’re future husband and wife, sharing a bed and pillow is only natural.” Qiao Ying’s scalp prickled. She clenched her teeth and forced out a smile. “Young Master Cen, you misunderstand. I just… was worried you wouldn’t be used to it. Besides, so much happened today that my mind is unsettled. I was afraid I might disturb your sleep.” Cen Yunyu looked at her silently for a moment, then suddenly straightened and let out a soft laugh. “As you wish.” He said nothing more, turning to walk toward the bed. He lay down fully clothed, his long hair spread across the pillow, his red robes dark beneath the candlelight like blood. Qiao Ying let out half a sigh of relief. She moved to the table and sat down, staring at the dancing flame as her thoughts tangled into chaos. The restraint of the Red Thread Binding, the unknown road ahead, and the World-Destroying Evil Spirit beside her, who might turn on her at any moment… Every one of them left her trembling with fear. She had no idea how much time passed before the candle flame gradually weakened. The sound of a night watchman’s rattle came from outside. It was already the third watch of the night. Qiao Ying’s eyelids grew heavy, and her head began to nod. She tried to force herself to stay awake, but exhaustion overwhelmed her. In her fading consciousness, her body tilted sideways— But she did not fall to the floor. Someone caught her. Qiao Ying abruptly woke to find herself lying on the inner side of the bed. Cen Yunyu lay on his side facing outward, one hand loosely around her shoulders. His breathing was long and even, as though he were already fast asleep. Her whole body stiffened. She didn’t dare move. Had this evil spirit carried her onto the bed, or had she climbed up herself in a daze? Either possibility was terrifying. On her first night after transmigrating into the book, she was already sleeping in the same bed as the villain. Qiao Ying’s brain was overloaded, but soon, something else caught her attention. With his eyes closed, much of the youth’s cold and ferocious aura had faded. The dying candlelight outlined the contours of his brows and eyes. His nose was high and straight, his lashes long and thick, casting faint shadows beneath his eyes. The tiny mole beside his nose seemed to appear and disappear in the dim light. He actually looked somewhat obedient. Qiao Ying watched him, and before long, her eyelids grew heavy again. Before her consciousness sank into darkness, her final thought was: Tomorrow, I absolutely have to find a way to get some money. And I need to find an opportunity to test just how strict the restraint of this Red Thread Binding is. If I can escape, I should escape. Deep into the night. Cen Yunyu opened his eyes. The girl in his arms had fallen into a deep sleep, her breathing soft and even. Her almond-shaped eyes were tightly shut, and her lashes were still damp. It seemed that even her dreams were far from peaceful. He watched her silently for a moment, then lightly touched the red mark around her wrist with his fingertip. A red glow flickered, as if in response. Of course he knew that everything she had said was a lie, but he was genuinely curious about how she knew so much. The Red Thread Binding had been no more than a whim of his, inspired by her saying that she “couldn’t bear to see him alone.” Besides, watching her put on a show while desperately pretending to be calm was truly entertaining. The long path of cultivation was dull to begin with. In this lifetime, keeping a little bird by his side didn’t seem so bad. He would spare her life for now. Once he grew tired of her, killing her would not be too late. He closed his eyes again, the faintest smile curling at the corners of his lips. When Qiao Ying awoke, morning light was slanting through the wooden lattice window. Fine dust drifted through the beams of light, settling over the unfamiliar blue-gray bed curtains. After a moment, her gaze shifted toward the window. The red-robed youth sat sideways in the morning light, slowly wiping the long sword in his hand with a square of plain white silk. The blade reflected the faint dawn, casting a cold silver radiance. His eyes were lowered, and his long lashes cast pale shadows beneath them. The tiny mole beside his nose was especially distinct in the bright light. Black hair and red robes, skin as pale as jade—the morning sun gilded his outline with a faint golden glow. He was beautiful, like a richly colored gongbi painting. Qiao Ying was dazed for a moment. Then her memories surged back like a tide—transmigrating into a book, a ghost marriage, mountains of corpses and seas of blood, an earth-shaking lie, the Red Thread Binding, and sharing a bed… The peerlessly beautiful youth before her was not the lover of her dreams. He was the future World-Destroying Evil Spirit who would slaughter the Three Realms and be rejected by Heaven and Earth. Qiao Ying became completely awake. With a start, she sprang upright in bed. “I…” Her voice was dry. “How did I end up on the bed?” Cen Yunyu looked up at the sound, but his hand continued wiping the sword. “When I woke up, A Ying was already on the bed.” The corners of his lips curved slightly, his tone casual. “Perhaps you climbed up yourself.” Qiao Ying’s mind exploded. Could she really have sleepwalked onto the bed herself? What kind of boldness had possessed her to climb into an evil spirit’s bed? Her cheeks instantly flushed. She stammered, “Th-then I must have disturbed your sleep… I didn’t mean to.” “Not at all.” Cen Yunyu tilted his head slightly, his smile teasing. “A Ying sleeps very obediently.” He rose and walked toward her, his red robes sweeping through an arc in the morning light. “Besides, since we’re future husband and wife, sharing a bed and pillow is perfectly ordinary. A Ying needn’t concern herself over it.” Qiao Ying looked at his handsome face, gentle and smiling, and felt a chill run down her spine. Those were lies I made up! Brother, how are you accepting them so readily? And what’s with this bizarre feeling of a “morning after marriage”? Lord Evil Spirit, could you please return to your sinister, arrogant, and unrestrained self? The gentle persona really doesn’t suit you! The youth’s smile deepened. His black eyes turned toward her like dark jade beads steeped in a freezing pool—beautiful enough to take one’s breath away, yet utterly devoid of warmth. Qiao Ying forced herself to remain calm, threw off the covers, and got out of bed. Her bare feet touched the slightly cool floor. “I naturally don’t mind.” She walked to the table and poured herself a cup of cold tea with her back to him, using the motion to conceal her turmoil. “After all, I have memories of what happens later. We sleep together every night anyway.” The moment the words left her mouth, her own ears began to burn. This lie was getting more and more outrageous. She gave a light cough and continued, “I was only considering your feelings. You don’t have any memories of being married now, so I was afraid you wouldn’t be used to it.” Cen Yunyu had already come to her side. “It’s fine.” His voice was gentle, with a slight hoarseness from just waking. “Clearly, I’m very used to it.” Qiao Ying was tilting her head back to drink her tea. At his words, she choked on her breath. She bent over and began coughing violently. Tea splashed onto her sleeve, and the corners of her eyes reddened as tears welled up. After finally catching her breath, she glared up at the culprit, her eyes filled with shock and horror— He couldn’t actually have fallen in love with me at first sight, could he? Under her frozen stare, Cen Yunyu unhurriedly sheathed the sword he had finished wiping into the black umbrella, then fastened it back at his waist. “A Ying.” He turned his head to ask, “Would you like to go downstairs and have breakfast together?” Qiao Ying instinctively shook her head, but at that exact moment, her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl. She froze, then silently nodded. A trace of amusement passed through Cen Yunyu’s eyes, but he deliberately put on a puzzled expression. “I don’t have any of those memories between husband and wife now. Perhaps… I don’t quite understand what A Ying means.” He was bringing that up again. Qiao Ying wanted nothing more than to cover her face and wail, but all she could do was force a smile. “Young Master Cen, go downstairs first. I’ll wash up and come shortly.” Cen Yunyu said nothing more. He merely nodded. “All right.” He took up his umbrella and pushed open the door, his red-robed figure disappearing outside. The instant the wooden door closed, Qiao Ying rushed to the bronze mirror in the room. The mirror was blurry, but it still reflected a face flushed red with embarrassment. Her almond-shaped eyes were wide open, their outer corners naturally raised. Shock and uncertainty filled her honey-colored irises. It was unmistakably her own face, exactly the same as in her previous life. Qiao Ying stared at her reflection, covered her burning cheeks, and muttered to herself, “He couldn’t actually have fallen in love with me at first sight, could he?” It wasn’t entirely impossible. She might not have been a beauty capable of toppling kingdoms, but she had been praised as “pretty and bright” since childhood, and suitors had never been lacking. As she thought this, a secret trace of smugness unexpectedly rose in her heart. Anyone would secretly feel pleased at being favored by such an exceptionally handsome youth, right? But the thought lasted only an instant. The scene from the previous night suddenly surfaced in her mind: blood splashing beneath the moonlight, bodies collapsing to the ground, the youth standing amid a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood with a sword in hand, a smile on his lips and cold murderous intent in his eyes. A basin of ice water poured over her head. Qiao Ying raised a hand and lightly patted her cheeks. Facing her reflection, she warned sternly, “Qiao Ying, what are you swooning over? So what if he’s handsome? He’s the World-Destroying Evil Spirit, a devil who kills without blinking. Who do you think you are? Do you really think you can tame this lunatic?” She drew a deep breath, and her eyes gradually cleared. Cen Yunyu’s gentle performance just now must have been a test, meant to lure her into lowering her guard and revealing a flaw. In the book, this sort of mind-bewitching trick was what he excelled at most. “I absolutely cannot be deceived by that face of his.” Qiao Ying warned herself. “They’re all sugar-coated bullets. Every one of them is a sugar-coated bullet…” Before she could finish, a shrill scream suddenly rang out from downstairs: “Someone’s dead—!” Qiao Ying’s entire body stiffened. Her first thought leaped into her mind: It couldn’t be Cen Yunyu, could it? Has he already been unable to restrain himself and started killing people? She turned toward the tightly closed door, her heart pounding wildly. What was she supposed to do now? Pretend she knew nothing, or go downstairs to investigate? If Cen Yunyu really was responsible, should she, as his “future wife,” help cover it up, or… Amid her tangled thoughts, hurried footsteps already sounded in the hallway outside, accompanied by panicked discussion. “Where did someone die?” “The kitchen! Chef Zhang!” “It happened like that again. He’s become a dried corpse…” Qiao Ying’s pupils contracted slightly. A dried corpse? That method of killing didn’t seem like Cen Yunyu’s handiwork. She steadied herself, straightened her slightly disheveled collar, and opened the door. Quite a few people had already gathered in the corridor, all of them looking terrified. Qiao Ying looked down and happened to meet Cen Yunyu’s gaze at the turn of the stairs. He stood there with his umbrella in hand, looking up at her. Their eyes met. The youth stood amid the chaos and panic, dressed in red with black hair, his expression calm. His black eyes gazed at her as though he had known all along that she would come out. The corners of his lips curved slightly. Without making a sound, he mouthed: Come here. Qiao Ying gripped the doorframe tightly, her knuckles turning white. The morning light remained bright, but the inn was already shrouded in a chilling shadow. She drew a deep breath and walked down the stairs one step at a time. Her feet touched the wooden steps, making faint sounds. With every step downward, she drew closer to the unknown crime scene—and closer to that evil-spirit youth with the gentle smile. Closer and closer.