Xie Xun’s pent-up anger was ignited in an instant. He had been suppressing his fire during this period, handling all military affairs without neglect, and yet he had only one wish—why did everyone have to force him?
"I don’t want her to go to Jinzhou, so far away from me. West Continent and Huangzhou need to be cultivated, and there are countless people better versed in agriculture than her. The twelve provinces are not yet peaceful; if something happens to her, I can’t reach her. I don’t want to one day receive news of her death. I don’t want her out of my sight. Why is everyone forcing me?"
"She’s not your warhorse, not your bow, not your toy. What you want doesn’t matter. If everyone’s wishes came true, then wouldn’t the world collapse, and people continue to suffer and wander homeless?" Xie Jue said calmly. "There are indeed more suitable candidates for cultivating West Continent and Huangzhou. But those responsibilities entail the reconstruction and coordination of a whole town or city. I am still in Ningzhou and cannot split myself in half. Whom else can you send there that will handle it well? She needs to preside over Jinzhou and restore production across the twelve provinces. If we want to take back the twelve provinces without losing a single soldier, we must first recover their industries, win the hearts of the people. Only I, you, and her can manage these matters. You must focus on military affairs—leading troops into battle, repairing Liangma Road. I must coordinate the rear. Who else but her can handle it? Can’t you be rational for once?"
"I watched Mother and the concubines slit their own throats, watched Eldest Brother pierced by a thousand arrows. In my nightmares, I see the slaughter in the Capital City, the bloodshed—her silhouette occasionally appearing among them. There are so many bandits in the twelve provinces; West Continent and Huangzhou are desolate towns. The salt mines and iron mines in the twelve provinces are tangled in chaos, controlled by bandit groups, fraught with danger. She’s frail and sickly—who will take responsibility if something happens to her?"
"Then go eliminate the bandits! Kill every last one of them! You worry about this and that—when did you become so indecisive? You’re plagued by your inner demons, worrying yourself sick!" Exhausted from days of work, Xie Jue’s eyes ached as his temper flared violently. "Xie Zhixu, are you still the young wolf beneath Sha Ling Tian Mountain? Did the death of your parents reduce you to mere cries of despair? Have you forgotten how to live apart from the clan? Clinging to Fengyu—will Mother, Eldest Brother, Sister, and the concubines all come back to life because of it?"
"I can’t forget the day of Eldest Brother’s wedding. I’m terrified Fengyu will leave me and die somewhere unknown. I’m terrified I won’t be able to hold onto her." Xie Xun’s eyes were red, and his words spilled uncontrollably. "Who’s cold-hearted like you? Is it true that no one’s death means anything to you?"
Their heated argument became blanketed in an oppressive silence.
Outside, Feiying and the Shadow Guards listened, their scalps tingling with fear, hearts pounding.
Xie Jue sat like snow in the shadows, his eyes slightly lowered. It wasn’t clear whether his exhaustion or the sharp pain in his eyes caused the bloodshot webs, turning his gaze frighteningly crimson.
His expression was unreadable—a mix of torment and madness. The veins in his temples throbbed, threatening to burst beneath the thin skin. Xie Xun realized he had said something wrong.
"Second... Second Brother... Brother..." Xie Xun’s spine felt broken in his Second Brother’s presence as he hunched over.
"Zhixu, you’re not alone in losing your parents and siblings." Xie Jue’s voice was quiet and cold. "There are no tears, no indulgence in sorrow—but my pain is no less than yours."
"I’m sorry, Second Brother. I said the wrong thing. I’m sorry!" Xie Xun knelt before him, grasping his legs, burying his face in his knees in utter agony.
What was he doing? Why was he speaking so harshly to his Second Brother? This entire journey, Fengyu had been by his side, comforting him—yet his Second Brother had nothing, swallowing every ounce of pain and farewell alone. He only had his Second Brother to rely on—why did he say such heart-wounding things?
Xie Xun slapped himself forcefully across the face.
Xie Jue looked at Xie Xun’s miserable state, his own emotions stirring uncomfortably. He kicked him away, his voice hoarse as he said, "Get lost!"
Xie Xun clung to him relentlessly. Losing patience, Xie Jue kicked him in the chest, sending waves of sharp pain through Xie Xun, but still he held on. "I was wrong!"
Overcome by a fit of anger, Xie Jue felt his throat tighten, metallic and sweet. Blood surged relentlessly upward, which he swallowed hard, though some still dripped from the corner of his mouth.
Xie Jue felt the world spinning, his vision plunging into darkness.
His heart constricted violently. He closed his eyes and, reopening them, was met with a haze that alternated between blurry light and darkness. Panic churned as the terror of losing his sight resurfaced yet again.
Xie Xun’s voice seemed to echo from a far-off distance, desperate and frantic as he called for a doctor. He heard the chaotic sound of footsteps. Gripping Xie Xun’s arm, Xie Jue said calmly, "Don’t alert anyone!"
"Second Brother, Second Brother... don’t be angry. I was wrong. What’s wrong with your eyes?" Xie Xun’s guilt overwhelmed him, tearing him apart from the inside out. He had infuriated his Second Brother to the point of coughing up blood—what kind of person was he? "I promise you, I’ll do whatever you want. Please don’t scare me."