Lin Zixi felt that Ye Can was truly someone who could ruin the atmosphere. The sweetness and warmth from moments ago had been utterly destroyed by Ye Can’s irritating words.
Lin Zixi restrained her smile and gazed quietly at Ye Can with focused eyes. “Why would you say something like I’d abandon you?”
Her tone remained so calm, but Ye Can keenly sensed the surging anger building beneath that calm. Ye Can pursed her lips, hesitated for a moment, and said, “Because it’s an obvious fact.”
“Liking someone always comes with conditions. Whether it’s beauty or something else.”
Ye Can believed that Lin Zixi’s affection for her was largely due to her looks. As for her character, her behavior, or even her soul—none of that mattered.
The world was superficial like that: sorrow arose from love, love from beauty. In the end, most people ended up with love slackening as beauty faded.
Ye Can said earnestly, “When those conditions change over time, so do people’s hearts. That’s the way of the world.”
Lin Zixi strangely understood what Ye Can meant—it all boiled down to love slackening as beauty faded.
She found Ye Can’s words utterly unreasonable. She wasn’t some lecherous tyrant, and Ye Can wasn’t her favored consort or caged canary.
Sure, most people were swayed by beauty. But did seeing someone beautiful always mean wanting to spend a lifetime with them?
Lin Zixi thought Ye Can’s mindset was deeply flawed. She sighed softly and said, “I suddenly remembered a certain anecdote.”
Caught off guard by the topic shift, Ye Can stared blankly at the Beauty beside her, puzzled. Lin Zixi tilted her head up and said to her, “During the Song Dynasty, there was a court official named Liu Tingshi.”
Ye Can blinked. “So? What does that have to do with what I just said?”
Lin Zixi raised her hand, tracing Ye Can’s eyebrows and eyes as she said flatly, “Maybe not much, but right now, I don’t want to hear you talk, so shut up and listen.”
Lin Zixi’s tone was still calm, but every word carried a flaming barb that stabbed straight at Ye Can. Ye Can was shocked by her fierce attack and wisely clamped her mouth shut.
Ye Can said, “Go on, then.”
Lin Zixi glanced faintly at her and continued, “Where was I?”
Ever the eager sidekick, Ye Can chimed in, “You were at the court official named Liu Tingshi…”
Lin Zixi paused, then went on. “Yes, this Liu Tingshi was originally a farmer’s son. Before passing the imperial exams to become a jinshi, he had a betrothal with the daughter of his neighbor, an old man…”
Ye Can let out an “oh,” playing along. “Ah, an arranged marriage.” She understood jinshi, but “arranged marriage” was a term she’d picked up in this world—her first time using it felt spot-on.
Her knack for interrupting was impressive, but fortunately, Lin Zixi wasn’t one to be easily derailed and pressed on. “Later, Liu Tingshi went away to study and successfully passed the exams to become a jinshi. When he returned home, he learned the neighbor had passed away, and his daughter had gone blind from illness.”
Ye Can chimed in again with mock sympathy. “Oof, tough break for the girl.”
This time, Lin Zixi was genuinely annoyed. “Let me finish first. Shut up!”
Ye Can clapped a hand over her mouth, leaving only her bright, wide eyes fixed intently on Lin Zixi.
Seeing her finally behave, Lin Zixi continued. “In short, Liu Tingshi was a man who honored his promises. He sought out the woman he was betrothed to, unbothered by her blindness, and insisted on marrying her. They lived harmoniously afterward and had several children.”
“But good times didn’t last. After more than a decade together, his wife passed away. Tingshi was devastated, washing his face with tears day after day.”
At this point, Lin Zixi looked up at Ye Can and asked, “Do you know Su Shi?”
Ye Can didn’t dare speak, just nodded with her mouth covered. Lin Zixi continued upon seeing this. “Su Shi, seeing how grief-stricken Liu Tingshi was after his wife’s death, once asked him: ‘Sorrow arises from love, love from beauty. You married a blind woman out of duty. So where did your love come from now, and your sorrow?'”
Lin Zixi paused. “Do I need to explain what that means?”
Ye Can shook her head, indicating she understood. Lin Zixi sighed softly and went on. “This was Liu Tingshi’s response: ‘I only know I’ve lost my wife. If my love arose from her beauty and my sorrow from that love, then when beauty fades and love slackens, my sorrow would fade too—does that mean any woman flaunting herself in the streets, batting her eyes and beckoning with her heart, could be my wife?'”
Ye Can felt a slight stir. Lin Zixi looked up at her. “Ye Can, do you get it?”
It was just a simple, pure love story—though Lin Zixi hadn’t told it as vividly. After finding his blind bride-to-be, who rejected the marriage due to her illness, Liu Tingshi had said: “My heart was promised to her long ago—how could I betray my original intent?”
Their boyhood betrothal: he loved that blind girl, strove for success for her sake, returned in glory to marry her, and never loved another after her death.
Lin Zixi’s love for Ye Can wasn’t yet that profound, but it wasn’t so shallow as to spark from mere beauty and then vanish.
Love was simple yet complex, layered, a beautiful and moving thing.
Ye Can didn’t know the full depth of the story or the profound emotion behind it. But she understood Lin Zixi’s point—the same one Lin Zixi had been emphasizing: she didn’t like just anyone. Out of everyone, only Ye Can was special to her.
To Lin Zixi, Ye Can was like the brightest star in the night sky, irreplaceable.
Realizing this, Ye Can felt a vague happiness. She basked awkwardly in the joy, unwilling to examine what it meant.
Ye Can nodded. “I get it.”
Lin Zixi shot her a glare, a bit domineering as she said, “Now that you get it, don’t say that kind of thing again. My feelings for you aren’t that superficial, nor that fragile—for now.”
With that, Lin Zixi yanked the blanket over Ye Can. “Now sleep!”
Ye Can obediently lay down and pulled Lin Zixi into her arms. Lin Zixi sensed her careful attempt to please and turned to bury herself in Ye Can’s embrace. Ye Can raised a hand, gently stroking Lin Zixi’s silky long hair, feeling as if she’d entered some wondrous state.
Her heart, once mired in a swamp, seemed yanked free by a rope and set adrift in the boundless sky.
Light, free, wonderful sensations flowed from her heart to her brain. Yet at the same time, Ye Can felt a faint tether, always connecting them tightly.
Between her and Lin Zixi, some intimate bond had formed—one she’d never imagined. And in that bond, she sensed a freedom bound by constraints.
Why would freedom have constraints? Why feel free even in constraint?
It was a question worth pondering, but the overwhelming pleasure made Ye Can abandon thought. She took Lin Zixi’s hand; their palms touched, and Lin Zixi intertwined their fingers.
Palms pressed together, every finger bound. Yet in the warmth of that intimate contact, Ye Can felt her soul at peace.
The world grew quiet, leaving only the steady, soft breaths of the person beside her. Ye Can listened to Lin Zixi’s breathing, tracing her cheek with long fingers as she gazed at her drifting into sleep.
Lin Zixi had fallen asleep, but Ye Can couldn’t.
She dwelled on the story Lin Zixi had told. After a long while, Ye Can reached for her phone on the side, searching for the original tale.
In the dim room, the phone screen’s glow lit up Ye Can’s small, palm-sized face. She read the text repeatedly, savoring every word. In “I only know I’ve lost my wife,” she tasted profound sorrow.
So sad… Why did she have to die?
After that night, Ye Can never brought up finding someone new with Lin Zixi again. For the next stretch of time, she threw herself fully into work, and filming progressed smoothly.
Ye Can wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but over the past half-month, she felt like she’d overlooked something.
Until one early morning, on the way back to the hotel with Lin Zixi, a cold voice echoed in her mind. Only then did she realize it had been nearly a month since she’d last heard from the Immoral God.
Standing under the streetlamp, Ye Can froze at the voice in her head, slow to react.
The Immoral God announced coldly, “Favorability detected: 108. Mission failed. Punishment issued.”
Ye Can halted, her heart leaping to her throat, choking off all words. Crushing panic gripped her legs, rooting her in place.
Lin Zixi, ahead, noticed and turned back with a puzzled look. “What’s wrong, Ye Can?”
Ye Can didn’t answer, her gaze fixed on Lin Zixi, unwilling to look away.
April’s warm spring: crabapple trees lined the roadside, branches full of blooms. Under the dim streetlamp, faint pinks and whites shimmered.
Lin Zixi wore a stylish white blouse with a black high-waisted flared skirt, topped by a thin long trench coat. She stood vivaciously under the tree, looking at Ye Can with confusion.
Ye Can stared unblinking at her face. Without speaking, she asked the voice in her mind tensely, “What… punishment?”
The Immoral God seemed merciful this once, saying pityingly, “It was supposed to be Lin Zixi’s death, but you get one more chance.”
The Immoral God continued, “Three years. I’ll give you three years. Live with all your might, raise favorability to 1999…”
“After three years like that, she lives, and you leave this world.”
Ye Can stared blankly at Lin Zixi as the Immoral God’s voice filled her mind: “You’ll vanish on a sunny day with the wind, becoming cloud, rain, drifting mist—gone from the world, eternally asleep.”
“I promise: if you do everything I demand afterward, her fate will be rewritten.”
Ye Can gazed at Lin Zixi and asked the god in her mind, “After I leave, will she remember me?”
The Immoral God paused, then countered, “Do you want her to remember you?”
Ye Can recalled the story from that night. In its end, Liu Tingshi never remarried after his wife.
I only know I’ve lost my wife.
It sounded so heartbreaking.
Ye Can didn’t want Lin Zixi to hurt like that. “I don’t want her to remember me. After I go, she should live well.”
“I’ll be like a dream she had. Once I’m gone, everything about me vanishes. Things reset; she’ll have a fresh start.”
“She’ll meet someone who loves, cherishes, and protects her. No illness, long life, growing old with her beloved, dying in sweet dreams.”
Ye Can watched Lin Zixi urging her on, eyes reddening as she said to the Immoral God in her mind, “Aren’t you a god? As the price for toying with me, you can grant this small wish, right?”
The Immoral God didn’t stay silent this time. Instead, she stated, “Ye Can, this isn’t toying with you. This is a reward.”
Ye Can was going a little crazy. I don’t care if it’s a reward or a punishment, toying or whatever! she roared in her mind. Since you won’t let me sleep eternally, since you promised to bring me here, since you agreed to the bond, since you gave me hope—you should give me a response!
I prayed! I prayed with my own heart! You responded, so you have to take responsibility!
She was like a child who hadn’t gotten her candy, stomping her feet furiously and losing all reason as she bellowed her unreasonable demands: “I don’t care! You have to agree!”
It was a fit of helpless rage, looking both utterly pitiful and profoundly sorrowful.
The Immoral God fell silent for a moment before saying, “I promise you.”
Those words pierced Ye Can like a needle, deflating all her anger. After venting everything, she slumped her shoulders and said dejectedly, “How boring. Just go.”
The voice in her mind gradually faded to silence. Ye Can felt as though she’d endured an extraordinarily long battle, utterly exhausted.
She didn’t know what had drained all her spirit, but she hung her head low, gazing at Lin Zixi like a little dog.
That endless argument had only taken a single second in reality. Lin Zixi looked at Ye Can, who stood motionless under the streetlamp, and called out again, “Ye Can, let’s go.”
Hearing those words, Ye Can took a deep breath and straightened her back.
Fine, fine. If I die in three years, I die. Whatever. At least the Immoral God had told her her deadline, unlike most people in this world who didn’t know if death awaited them tomorrow.
Even after saying that and getting a firm promise, Ye Can still felt an emptiness in her heart.
That barren patch of land in her heart, just sprouting tender green buds, now looked ravaged by a blast of frigid northern wind—withered across a vast swath.
It was clearly the warm season of spring, yet Ye Can felt a chill radiate from her heart to her limbs, numbing her hands and feet until she couldn’t take a single step.
She stood rooted in place, struggling for a while before looking at Lin Zixi helplessly. “Lin Zixi, I’m tired. I can’t walk.”
She had never truly tasted the hardships of life before, but now she had a bitter sip—and it was far too bitter to endure.
Lin Zixi heard her and came forward helplessly to take her hand. “I’ll pull you along. Once we get in the car and head back, you won’t feel tired anymore.”
The moment their hands clasped, Ye Can tugged a little harder, drawing Lin Zixi into her arms.
She hugged the woman in her embrace tightly. In that instant, Ye Can felt as though Lin Zixi’s body blocked the cold wind blowing through the desolation in her heart, granting her a fleeting spark of life.
Ye Can raised a hand to stroke Lin Zixi’s long hair and whispered, “Is there something I’ve never said to you?”
Lin Zixi, not understanding, hugged her back with a puzzled, “Hm?”
Ye Can buried her face in her hair and murmured, “The first time I saw you, my heart stirred with joy.”
Back then, the stage was full of ridiculous performers in masks and colorful costumes—grotesque and repulsive. But Lin Zixi was different. The moment Ye Can laid eyes on her, she felt like she’d encountered a real person in this world for the first time.
With reddened eyes, Ye Can told Lin Zixi, “You felt so alive to me. Your body was cool to the touch, but your heart was warm.”
“You’re different from everyone else. Unique. One of a kind.”
Anyway, she’d die in three years. Anyway, Lin Zixi wouldn’t remember her afterward. So what if she followed her heart just this once?
Nothing mattered anymore. All those false pretenses, the deliberate self-numbing—they weren’t so important now.
In the end, this was her true nature.
Ye Can released Lin Zixi, grasping her shoulders and gazing down intently. Lin Zixi looked up at Ye Can’s face, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “So you’re telling me it was love at first sight?”
Ye Can smiled faintly and nodded. “Yes. It was.”
My heart is with you in love; how could I not speak of it? It is hidden in my heart; how could I ever forget?
Yet it turned out that even death could not make her forget this love.
