“How much longer do I have to live?”
When Jiang Ci asked this, her tone was absurdly calm, without a hint of panic. Her nonchalance made it seem as though she weren't asking about her remaining lifespan at all, but rather casually wondering what they were having for dinner tonight.
But the more nonchalantly she treated it, the more suffocated Lu Yan felt. He opened his mouth, but not a single word came out. He stared straight into Jiang Ci's clear eyes, his throat feeling as if it were blocked by something hard, utterly unable to speak the cruel truth.
Was he supposed to tell her himself that her remaining days could be counted on one hand, and that she had a year left at the absolute most? Should he ask if there was any food she had yet to taste, any fine wine she had yet to drink, or any place she still wanted to visit?
Looking into such clean, bright eyes and saying those words... Lu Yan felt it would be much easier to just stab himself on the spot.
But he couldn't bring himself to lie, either. Ever since the last time he had spoken carelessly and accidentally made Jiang Ci cry, a hurdle had been erected in his heart, making it impossible for him to lie to her with a clear conscience.
The moment even a hint of a lie crossed his mind, the image of her eyes reddening and tears streaming down would immediately flash before him. Those glittering tears were like tiny needles, pricking his heart over and over again.
Unable to tell the truth and not daring to lie, the only comfort he could squeeze out in the end was a few hollow words.
“It's fine... It'll be okay...”
The words sounded pale and weak, lacking even a shred of conviction.
Jiang Ci didn't say another word after hearing this, simply lying there in silence.
Lu Yan had no idea what else to say to comfort her. Once again, the cramped wooden room was enveloped in a heavy, suffocating silence.
Unable to break the impasse, he had resorted to what he did earlier—closing his eyes, settling his mind, and meditating. He had hoped to suppress the surging anxiety in his heart through an almost self-punishing focus on cultivation.
Meanwhile, Jiang Ci kept her eyes open, spacing out as her gaze drifted aimlessly toward the ceiling beams. By the time Lu Yan felt the sharp throb in his spiritual sea, the irritation in his heart hadn't dissipated in the slightest. He gave up, stopping his meditation to join Jiang Ci in staring blankly at the dilapidated wooden door.
His mind was a chaotic mess, his thoughts revolving endlessly around a single question: how on earth could he break this dead end? The heart inside Jiang Ci's body, condensed from spiritual energy, was nothing short of a ticking time bomb. No one could say for sure when it would completely dissipate and “detonate.”
But right now, they didn't have a single useful clue. In this vast, boundless world, where were they supposed to look for the Glass Sword Heart that had been gouged out of her all those years ago?
If he wanted to uncover the details, the only way was to ask Jiang Ci directly. But bringing up the past was no different from tearing open the old scars she had spent so long trying to heal.
Beneath those scars lay the agonizing pain of having her heart gouged out while still alive, the past in the Central Continent she had fought so hard to leave behind, and the blood-deep hatred buried so deep in her heart that she never wanted to touch it again.
Under normal circumstances, Jiang Ci never spoke of how much she hated those people from the Central Continent. But if Lu Yan had gone through what she had, he would have been gnashing his teeth in hatred long ago. Just imagining what she had endured made his chest tighten painfully.
How could anyone be heartless enough to inflict such a cruel, sinister fate upon a lively young girl?
Yet, avoiding the topic forever was not an option. Without understanding the details of what happened, they could never navigate the power structures of the Central Continent, let alone deduce the current whereabouts of her Glass Sword Heart. Had it already been refined and consumed? Or perhaps turned into some special Life-Prolonging Pill?
For now, he could only cling to an incredibly faint, desperate hope—that when Bai Cen took her heart, he had simply kept it as a rare curiosity to collect and admire, rather than destroying it. Even though he knew how unlikely that was.
Yet, even if that hope was as fragile as a candle in the wind, he had to try. He could never stand by and watch Jiang Ci slowly march toward the end of her life, waiting quietly for death. No matter how much it pained him, he had to get to the bottom of these long-buried details today.
Lu Yan took a deep breath, pushing down the bitter ache in his chest. His voice was incredibly soft as he asked, “Your heart... what did those people from the Central Continent do with it back then?”
Jiang Ci froze, clearly not expecting him to bring this up so directly.
She had assumed he would either sit with her in silence all night or repeat the same hollow, superficial words of comfort. She had never expected him to head straight for her most painful memory.
She looked up, studying his features. Normally, Lu Yan's eyes always seemed shrouded by a thin, hazy veil, hiding whatever lay beneath.
But right now, that barrier was so thin it was practically nonexistent. She could clearly see the light flickering in his eyes—an unyielding determination, and a stubborn resolve to protect her at all costs.
Was this light shining solely for her?
The moment the thought crossed her mind, an inexplicable warmth welled up in her chest. She couldn't tell where this sudden happiness came from, but the feeling was undeniably real and comforting.
A faint smile touched her lips as she replied softly, “I don't know.”
Pausing, she added in a quiet voice, “It's fine. Even if I only have a few days, weeks, or months left to live, I really don't mind.”
From the moment her Glass Sword Heart was ripped from her chest, she should have died on the spot. To have survived this long, to have met Lu Yan, to have made friends who genuinely cared for her, and to have experienced so many of life's ups and downs—she felt she had already gotten more than she deserved. Every single day she lived now felt like borrowed time snatched from the jaws of death.
Deep down, she truly felt that Lu Yan didn't need to torture himself with anxiety for her sake, let alone risk going to the Central Continent.
She was clearly content with her lot, yet for some reason, her eyes began to sting as a sudden wave of warmth blurred her vision.
But when Lu Yan saw the faint redness at the corners of her eyes, his heart felt as if it had been struck by a heavy fist, aching with unbearable dull pain. He reached out and firmly grasped her wrist. Her fingertips were icy cold.
He couldn't help but wonder—was her chest, where a heart could no longer beat, always this freezing cold?
He looked up, locking his gaze onto hers. His voice was resolute, each word spoken with absolute solemnity. “You won't die. I will make sure you live. I promise.”
“I promise...”
The lingering words carried a long-suppressed obsession, echoing softly in the quiet room. It was a promise to her, and a vow to himself—no matter how difficult the road ahead, he would never let go.
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