Chapter 603: I Don’t Want to Care, I Just Want…

The dagger pierced Ye Mo’s left shoulder, catapulting him from his unsteady stance. He landed unconscious before Luo Ying.

Luo Ying’s heart lurched. Anger flared; Ye Mo had been injured twice saving her. She hadn't expected such treachery from the seemingly innocent nun. Without hesitation, she unleashed her yellow rope, striking Jie Xuan’s dantian.

Jie Xuan, surprised that her attack was again blocked by Ye Mo, wondered if he were her nemesis. Before she could react, Luo Ying’s rope struck her dantian, a devastating blow. Even if she had been able to react, she couldn't have dodged it.

Dazed, Jie Xuan spat blood. Her dantian was severely damaged, and she knew she had to leave immediately or never escape. Her condition was worse than a normal person's. Forgoing her dagger, she fled, wondering if Ye Mo had anticipated her actions. A chill ran down her spine.

If he had, he was terrifying. Except for the golden pages, she never wanted to face anyone like him again.

Luo Ying quickly helped Ye Mo up, forgoing pursuit of the nun. Seeing this, Jie Xuan breathed a sigh of relief; her wounds wouldn't heal for months. Luo Ying quickly stanched Ye Mo’s bleeding, her worry evident.

Ye Mo’s eyelids felt heavy. Struggling to open his eyes, he saw a worried face—Luo Ying. That beautiful face, countless times imagined, was finally before him. Excitement shook him.

“Don’t move, I’ll try to save you. And—thank you for saving me.” Luo Ying didn’t know how to help, but felt his trembling.

Sensing Luo Ying, Ye Mo reached out to touch her face. Luo Ying’s expression changed; she sneered and roughly lowered him, her displeasure evident. She took out a veil, wanting him merely to be able to leave.

Ye Mo remembered his mask and that Luo Ying didn't know him. Fighting the urge to faint, he used the blood on his shoulder to write.

Luo Ying tossed a white cloth to Ye Mo without speaking. Ye Mo, wanting another look at Luo Ying, knew his strength was failing; he could faint at any moment.

After writing, he collapsed unconscious. Luo Ying subconsciously took the cloth. Seeing the words, her mind blanked; her meridians froze. The cloth read: “I am Ye Mo.”

‘Ye Mo?! Really Ye Mo? Why doesn't his face look like his? He must be using some disguise,’ she thought.

Who else would have blocked the nun’s attacks? Who else had cried while touching the stone pool? Who else would value her life above his own? He must have come to find her. If she’d known, she wouldn't have left his side.

“Ye Mo!” Luo Ying reacted, certain. She cried his name, collapsing onto him before carrying him away, tears flowing freely.

She hated herself. Why had she let the nun go? If she’d fought relentlessly, would Ye Mo have been hurt? Her self-reproach was overwhelming—then she snapped out of it; she needed to save him!

…

Ye Mo felt his soul drifting, his spirit collapsing. He knew he was dying. He fought to remain, for he couldn’t die. A cool sensation entered his mind, easing him into sleep.

He dreamed of finding Luo Ying, bringing her back to Luo Yue, their grand wedding with Ning Qingxue. Everyone from Luo Yue came to celebrate. But as he drew Luo Ying and Ning Qingxue into their room, Luo Ying said she had to return to Luo Yue Continent.

He tried to grasp her hand, but she drifted further away.

“Susu, don’t go!” Ye Mo cried, opening his eyes to see Luo Ying’s worried face. She saw his attempt to speak.

“You’re awake! You’re finally awake!” Luo Ying hugged him tightly.

“Master!” Ye Mo whispered, then fell unconscious.

He awoke quickly this time, reaching for Luo Ying’s face. She had grown thinner. The worry and tears on her face showed she’d suffered more than him.

Touching her face, he said, “Master, don’t worry, I’m fine. Don’t cry, don’t leave me again.”

Though she didn’t understand his words, Luo Ying nodded, seemingly comprehending. She helped him up, wiped her eyes, and brought congee, carefully feeding him. Then, she fetched water and cleaned him, even brushing his teeth.

“Susu, the chicken soup’s ready,” a voice called from the door.

Quickly wiping Ye Mo’s face, Luo Ying went out.

“Aunty Xi, thank you. Please thank Uncle Wang for the ginseng. Without your help…” Luo Ying gratefully accepted the pot.

“Don’t mention it, Susu. You’ve helped so many in our village. Don’t worry, I’ll do as you asked,” the aunty replied.

Ye Mo looked around the room; it seemed different, more celebratory.

As he pondered this, Luo Ying entered, blushing.

He wanted to tell her they weren’t siblings, when she embraced him. He was enveloped in her scent.

“Ye Mo, I don’t want to be your master, your sister. I just want to be your wife,” Luo Ying said.

Remembering something, she released him, writing, “I don’t want to be your master. Let’s get married. I told Aunty Xi, so when you can get out of bed, we can have a wedding.”

Her eyes reddened. She knew he’d been poisoned, but not by what. She’d take him away as soon as he recovered; if not, she'd be his wife for a month, joining him in death.

Ye Mo was stunned. Did she know they weren't siblings? Why hadn't she returned for him?

Luo Ying blushed, writing, “Ye Mo, right now, I don’t care. I just want to marry you, be your wife. We can just live here…”