The summit as the na suggests, lay draped in clouds where winds were like blades but also like wandering spirits, hunting one’s ears with a weight of its own.
Zhao Fan stood upon the stone platform, his robe fluttering faintly, eyes closed as though listening to wind... The faint crunch of footsteps disturbed the stillness and he opened his eyes.
A slender figure erged from the mist, pale robes moving like water, a veil concealing her features yet unable to mute the weight she carried... She is graceful, and elegant like a swan.
Just one look; her pace was neither hurried nor hesitant; she walked as though each step had been weighed, accepted, resigned... Maybe, it’s for the better. Sotis it’s better to face the unknown than to run away,
She stopped a few paces away, the wind tugging at her sleeves... The silence between them sharp as a blade.
"Holy Envoy..." At last she spoke, breaking the silence.
Her voice was steady, but beneath its calm rippled sothing faint fatigue, perhaps, or bitterness long buried.
"Did my husband send you?" She asked but deep inside she already knew the answer. She was just a tool for her husband only to be sold when seen gain.
Zhao Fan’s lips curved faintly. "Indeed, it was your husband that have sent here and I believe you already know; for what reason, I am here, this Young Master won’t beat around the grass looking for incest, but, dare I ask why grace decided to submit to her husband’s bad will, I presu running was an best option avaliable... also, one forced does not arrive so composed."
Her eyes, visible through the veil, flickered but did not waver. "Composed? You mistake endurance for consent. I am here because another decided it so, not because I chose... Holy envoy is wise, what good is for to run? My son is already dead, my husband can be said to be dead too... What there is for to cling to my conscious, aren’t you here to just use my cheap body for enjoynt..." she replied.
"Endurance?" Zhao Fan’s gaze cut through the mist. He stepped forward, the air bending with his sheer presence.
"No... This Young Zhao thinks endurance is silence, a bowed head, a withered soul. Yet you stand before and speak your heart.. If you were nothing more than what you claim, you would not look in the eye... I wonder what makes you think you are cheap, given that you are indeed cheap, but I wonder what makes you truly stick to it..."
The veil shifted as her breath trembled, though her voice remained cold. "If I do not speak, I am called submissive. If I speak, I am called resistant. Tell then, which is my sin? Silence or words?"
Zhao Fan’s smile sharpened. "Hmm, I wonder what, but I suppose it’s neither. Your sin is neither silence nor words. It is in pretending you are without choice when in truth you still burn with it... I wonder if Grace is only all bark in front of , this Young Master hates the one who knows the truth yet still clings to falsehood to save themselves from breaking... No matter how powerful you try to act, from deep within you are but a broken woman, a big tree with hollow roots unable to dig deep within the earth."
Peerless wisdom, unfathomable intelligence. It wasn’t hard to see through her cheap mind-saving thod. Her son was dead within the domain, and her husband decided to sell her for cheap resources, given all things, she thought she would face with open eyes and unwavering hearts, so people truly think they are proud main characters of so scriptures, unable to see their situations.
For a mont, the wind carried nothing but silence. She turned her head slightly, gaze drifting toward the sea of clouds below the summit. "Choice? Do not mock . A wife is a bond, a vow, a cage gilded with ceremony. n speak of Dao, of Heaven’s decrees, but always it is won who pay the price of their ambitions..."
Ah, here we go again the typical woman’s behavior, always won are victims to the clutches of n.
"Haa, so what, care to elaborate further... The mind that hangs to illusion always perceives it as reality, for not, the hope shall be shattered, is it not?" Zhao Fan uttered, voice as cold as ice.
Her veil quivered with the wind. She let out a soft breath, one that seed almost like a laugh, though no mirth touched it, maybe, she did realize how pathetic she was. If not, why can’t she raise her voice against her husband?
"Hope?" she said ever so slightly like a drifting cloud beyond the mountains.
"Hope is what kept from drowning when all else crumbled. Just who exists without hope? Who doesn’t have hope? You sound it as if having hope makes one pathetic... that my son’s shadow might still walk among the living, hope that vows once sworn would shield rather than strangle. You call it illusion, Holy Envoy, yet without it, what would remain of ? Why am I pathetic? What makes pathetic?"
Zhao Fan’s gaze deepened, cutting through her words like a blade through mist. "What remains? The truth... People know truth, people see truth, yet they are still stuck to the false hope of betternt... Hope is a thread spun of fear. A woman who clings to broken bonds and dead nas is not living, she is lingering. Tell , what dignity is there in lingering?"
She stiffened, her fingers knotting within her sleeves. "And what dignity is there in surrendering myself as a tool? You speak of truth, yet truth is rciless. Perhaps you are correct, I linger. But at least in lingering, I still belong to myself... Maybe I am stupid to raise my voice, but what was inside was sothing that I wanted to speak..."
"No," Zhao Fan said flatly. He stepped closer; the distance between them shrank until his presence pressed like an unspoken storm, rely an inch or two apart...
"You do not belong to yourself. Not to your husband, not to your sect, not even to the ashes of your son. You are chained to ghosts, and you call it survival. You were the Saintess of a sect, as such, I know you have basic intellect to see the world... I also wanted to point out sothing that was within . I understand your motive well, but you by painting as a bad guy is sothing unnecessarily foolish..." He added.
"If grace, simply don’t want to do as husband says then speak so, I don’t want you anyway, but it was nothing but my rcy to take you anyway, otherwise, what good for this Young Master, to take a woman as yourself who is already used... The once hanging shall fall by tonight," Zhao Fan further added.
There was simply no lack of won, the world is full of fish, and it’s always better to choose the non-slaty.
For a mont, only the wind shrieked across the summit, scattering the clouds for a heartbeat. Her eyes widened behind the veil, sothing raw flashing before she turned away... She can’t win against this man but...
But she is a woman, how can she lose to a man when it cos to talking? Impossible.
"You speak as though I am a coward," she finally spoke further. "Perhaps I am. But courage has a price, and mine was already paid in blood. Why should I gamble again when I know only ruin waits? Indeed I was once the saintess, and I can see the world, so what’s wrong with , aren’t you powerful, why can’t I submit to you if my husband wants to push to you... I only simply refused to be a slave, nothing more. I beg forgiveness of my words were wrongly uttered, my mind has too much going on, I might have made a mistake..."
Tch, Tch, Tch, not even a sorry for her mistake.
"Oh, perhaps I did interrupt it wrongly, or perhaps the words of grace aren’t to the point, regardless, such a thing could be said peacefully without the need to raise voice high... I simply ca here to see you, you are indeed a vision of beauty, flowing hair, starry eyes, jade-like skin, with well-shaped curves... Needless to say more, if you want to submit peacefully turn around and let see the back..."
Luan Yuyun: "..." ( What is he saying... I just said I refused to be treated as a slave...)
Her cheeks turned from sha and humiliation. He is definitely saying it on purpose to degrade her. She knew it, yet, clenching her fist, she turned around, showing her backside.
"Umm, you have good hip and a perfect butt..."
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