ITF Chapter110

Jiang Han felt as though his wrist bone was about to be crushed.

How could someone who has just woken up from a coma possess such immense strength? He attempted to pull his hand back, only to be yanked over with even greater force.

“Have you lost your mind!” Using his other hand braced against the bedframe to steady his balance, he rarely let his temper show and snapped. “I almost pressed down on your wound!”

Yet, Bei Yang looked remarkably composed. “Why… act as if nothing happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Just as Jiang Han was about to stand up, an arm suddenly wrapped around him.

“You kissed me.” Bei Yang pressed down on his back, keeping him from getting up and denying him any chance to dodge the question. “Why act as if nothing happened?”

“Kissed…” Jiang Han repeated blankly.

Even though his intuition had already warned him of danger, this question still far exceeded his imagination. The cold wind howled against the thick stone walls; his thoughts, his gaze, and even his breathing seemed to be frozen solid by the wind outside those walls.

His wrist was released, but the back of his head was held fast.

Jiang Han didn’t even have time to close his eyes; or rather, he forgot to close them. Nor did he subconsciously resist the kiss. The texture of these lips, the strength of this embrace; everything was inexplicably familiar.

He was pulled back into that night, swaying with the ocean waves as he sank lower and lower, until he was drawn into a vortex he could not escape; one that bound and restrained every movement he tried to make.

Because he remained entirely unresponsive throughout, Bei Yang did not continue this kiss, which carried a trace of venting anger. When he opened his eyes, he also let go of the hand pressing against Jiang Han’s back.

At such close proximity, Jiang Han could clearly see the bloodshot streaks in his eyes.

“It was you.” He said in a very low voice.

Bei Yang stared at him without blinking, his chest still heaving violently. Supporting himself on the bed, Jiang Han pushed himself upright and then noticed blood seeping through the other man’s undershirt. With practiced efficiency and complete detachment, he unfastened the undershirt, loosened the bandages, examined the extent of the wound’s reopening, and reached for a clean bandage from the small table.

“Four years ago,” he said while wrapping the bandages, “in order to perform the mark-cleansing surgery on Bai Heting, the palace people looked for many surgeons in the medical school. But no one was willing to take the job. Everyone knew that if anything went wrong during the surgery, the lead surgeon would lose his head.”

He brought up an old matter that seemed entirely unrelated to the question at hand, but Bei Yang did not interrupt him.

He, too, was shackled by that vortex.

“I went,” Jiang Han said slowly. “I never intended to come back alive. I went there to assassinate Bai Heting, to avenge Senior Brother Bei.”

How could Bai Heting possibly keep someone who wanted to kill him by his side? This claim defied all logic. Bei Yang’s rebuttal was blurted out almost instantly, “How is that possible…”

“At this point, I’m afraid you are the only one who doesn’t know about it.” Jiang Han glanced at him and smiled faintly. “But that’s not the point. I’ve told you before about how Senior Brother Bei helped me. What I didn’t tell you, however, was that when he found me, the thing I wanted to give up on wasn’t just my studies. No matter what his motives were for approaching me, he gave me a second life. Everything I possessed afterward was given to me by him. Therefore, giving up everything I had to avenge him was, to me, the most natural thing in the world.”

Though he delivered such a long speech, it did not affect the movements of his hands at all; he wrapped the dressings with clean efficiency.

Yet, the expression on his face reminded Bei Yang of the water beneath the ice of Lake Urdan.

Silent, freezing, melancholy, and translucent. It appeared weak and formless, yet it possessed the power to destroy life.

“But even that isn’t everything. I have never spoken of this to anyone before.” Jiang Han bunched up the discarded cloth strips into a ball, squeezing them into his palm, as his gaze fell back onto that vacant patch of floor.

His voice wasn’t loud, but his articulation was perfectly clear, “I liked him. I have always liked him.”

Bei Yang blinked blankly.

Suddenly, he felt as though he, too, was submerged at the bottom of that silent, freezing lake, alongside those thousands upon thousands of enemy corpses.

The cloth strip in Jiang Han’s hand was gripped so tightly it could almost squeeze out blood, and the air was thick with the scent of medicinal herbs mingled with the metallic tang of blood.

“I wanted to say these words to you a long time ago, but I could never find the right opportunity.” He sat silently by the edge of the bed for a moment. “Every time I see you, it reminds me of Senior Brother Bei. So, in truth, I never really wanted to be friends with you.”

I never really wanted to be friends with you.

Bei Yang raised an arm, covering the upper half of his face.

He must have drafted and rehearsed it in his mind countless times to be able to deliver such a long string of words all at once, with such perfect clarity and composure.

Bei Yang had been uncontrollably drawn to get closer to Jiang Han, seeking the shadow of Bei Chengzhou within him. Yet Jiang Han, precisely because he would see the shadow of Bei Chengzhou within Bei Yang, had thoroughly sealed off his path of approach.

It was too unsightly.

And far too ridiculous.

“That night, I didn’t know it was you. I was delirious with fever. I’m sorry.” Jiang Han stood up, gathering the discarded bandages and medicine dregs together. “I may have caused you some trouble.” His gaze lingered for a brief moment on that half of a shriveled lemon. “But I have no other way to make it up to you. I cannot treat you as a substitute for Senior Brother Bei; that wouldn’t be fair to you either.”

He repeated once more, “I’m sorry.”

He stopped speaking as if everything had been said. Bei Yang slowly shook his head. “Losing to my brother is nothing to be ashamed of.”

His tone was casual, but in the pauses between his words, Jiang Han could see the corners of his lips trembling slightly.

He didn’t know whether Bei Yang was covering his eyes because he didn’t want to see him, or because he didn’t want to be seen. But this was a truth that had to be confessed sooner or later.

He knew better than anyone just how deeply an ambiguous attitude could hurt someone.

And yet…

He looked back at that half of a lemon.

“You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Perhaps from breathing too heavily, Bei Yang’s wound began to seep blood again. Yet, compared to the throbbing ache in his chest, this sword wound was actually not that difficult to endure.

“When you’re sick, it’s only natural to get confused.” He let out a few sighing chuckles.

“Aren’t I just doing the same thing…” He kept his arm over his face, his voice sounding just as hoarse as his laughter. “…having my brain scrambled by Shao Yixiao, talking complete nonsense.”

You can unlock the complete translation in epub format HERE!