After Han Dong and Ouyang Ye had left, Daozun Feiyan, who had originally been sitting with her eyes closed, abruptly opened them. A sharp light shone from her gaze as she stared fixedly at Gu Qingfeng, as if trying to see right through him. Yet no matter how she looked, she could discern nothing from him.
“Just who are you, Young Lord?”
Daozun Feiyan’s voice no longer trembled; it had grown firm, yet was filled with countless doubts and boundless curiosity.
“Me?”
After finishing the jade dew in his cup, perhaps finding it too bland, Gu Qingfeng took out a jug of peach blossom wine from his storage bag, poured a cup, took a light sip, and looked at Daozun Feiyan opposite him. He said calmly, “I am Young Lord Chiyan, Gu Qingfeng.”
“No!”
Daozun Feiyan shook her head without hesitation, her voice grave. “Although I do not know who you are, I am certain you are not the so-called Young Lord Chiyan!”
Hearing this, Gu Qingfeng showed no surprise, only shaking his head with a helpless smile.
“Dong’er and Yeye finding someone to impersonate the so-called Young Lord Chiyan might fool others, but it absolutely cannot fool me.”
Daozun Feiyan spoke solemnly. “I raised Dong’er with my own hands; I know her better than anyone. Her nature is aloof and cold; since childhood, she has never been one to lie or deceive. From the moment she and Yeye first had Ling’er impersonate Young Lord Chiyan, I knew. And…” Daozun Feiyan’s words trailed off, but Gu Qingfeng, holding the wine jug, poured himself another cup of peach blossom wine and continued for her.
“And Han Dong wears a necklace around her neck that you personally forged. You poured all your heart and soul into that necklace. It not only carries your primordial spirit and your consciousness but is also connected to your mind and spirit. It is no exaggeration to say you used everything you had to forge that necklace, hoping to protect Han Dong’s life in a moment of crisis.”
Gu Qingfeng drank and continued. “And because that necklace carries your primordial spirit, mind, and consciousness, although you cannot know everything about Han Dong, it is not far off. You knew from the very beginning that they had found someone to impersonate Young Lord Chiyan, yet you pretended not to know.”
He poured another drink, drank again, and spoke again.
“You understand clearly that Han Dong found someone to impersonate Young Lord Chiyan just to set your mind at ease. And you, pretending not to know, are doing the same. She did it to ease your worries, and you, going along with the scheme, are doing it to ease hers.”
Gu Qingfeng raised his eyes to look at Daozun Feiyan and asked lightly, “I wonder if my deduction is correct?”
“You…” Daozun Feiyan’s expression at this moment was even more shocked, more horrified, and more incredulous than before.
Indeed.
Just as Gu Qingfeng had said, through the necklace on Han Dong’s neck, Daozun Feiyan might not be able to know Han Dong’s innermost thoughts, but she could clearly sense Han Dong’s situation. It was for no other reason than not wanting Han Dong to suffer the slightest harm.
She had known about Han Dong and Ouyang Ye’s plan from the very beginning. The reason she pretended not to know was, as Gu Qingfeng said, to go along with the scheme—for no other purpose than to set Han Dong’s mind at ease. Daozun Feiyan knew that only by making Han Dong stop worrying about her could Han Dong be free of her burdens.
Daozun Feiyan had originally decided to continue going along with the scheme. As for who this person impersonating Young Lord Chiyan was, she did not care, did not want to know, and had no interest in knowing.
But what she had never expected was that this person before her, impersonating Young Lord Chiyan, actually…
Knew the affairs of Monarch Chixiao so intimately, so intimately that he even knew in detail the process of how she had treated Monarch Chixiao’s injuries.
Daozun Feiyan dared to swear that this matter was known only to herself, Monarch Chixiao, and Lady Zhuyue in all the world. She had never spoken of it to anyone. Lady Zhuyue would certainly not have, and Monarch Chixiao had never mentioned it either. At the very least, there were no records or rumors in the world about this matter concerning Monarch Chixiao.
So how did this person know?
“Just who are you, Young Lord?”
“Who am I?
I haven’t even figured that out myself, so how can I answer you?”
Gu Qingfeng spoke unhurriedly. “Just consider me an old friend. An old friend who has come to repay a debt on behalf of Gu Tianlang!”
An old friend?
An old friend who has come to repay a debt on behalf of Monarch Chixiao, Gu Tianlang?
Daozun Feiyan could not believe it, nor could she comprehend it.
“Long ago, I heard someone say that in this mortal world, there are two kinds of things hardest to distinguish clearly. The first is love and hate. The second is gratitude and resentment. At first, I did not agree. I thought love was love, hate was hate, gratitude was gratitude, resentment was resentment—there was nothing unclear about them. But later, as I lived longer and experienced more, I gradually came to understand a truth: old sayings are old sayings for a reason. You can’t help but submit to them.”
“Today, let’s not talk of love and hate, only of gratitude and resentment. What is gratitude, and what is resentment? If you had asked me before, I would have said gratitude is gratitude, resentment is resentment. But now, I want to say that gratitude is indeed gratitude, but it is also resentment. Resentment is indeed resentment, but it is also gratitude. Gratitude and resentment… no one can truly untangle them.”
“Take Gu Tianlang and all of you, for example. Gu Tianlang always felt he had let you down, and his heart was filled with guilt. Toward you, and even more so toward Feng Zhuyue.”
Gu Qingfeng poured his own wine and spoke to himself, his voice very plain, devoid of any discernible joy or anger. He continued, “Let’s not talk about Feng Zhuyue for now. Let’s talk about you. If not for this chance encounter with Han Dong, I would never have known you’ve lived your entire life burdened by guilt.”
“I’m baffled. What do you have to feel guilty about? Where did you let Gu Tianlang down? Because of that trivial matter from back then? If so, let’s properly hash out that old affair today.”
“Just who are you, Young Lord?!”
Daozun Feiyan looked extremely agitated, glaring at Gu Qingfeng, her entire body trembling with emotion.
“Is who I am so important? If it is, I’ll tell you.”
Gu Qingfeng rubbed his neck and said, “But the key point is, even if I tell you, you might not believe me.”
“I beg you, Young Lord, speak plainly!!”
Gu Qingfeng lowered his head, pouring wine from the jug, and said in a light, faint voice, “On the night of the full moon, Feng Zhuyue; on the night of the waning moon, the wolf howls at the moon…”
Hearing this, Daozun Feiyan opposite him seemed to have heard something earth-shattering. Her entire face turned deathly pale from horror. Perhaps too shocked, she collapsed on the spot, pointing at Gu Qingfeng, her mouth opening as she struggled with immense difficulty to speak. “You… how… do you know this poem… You… impossible… You… could it be… you are… No! Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Impossible—”
Gu Qingfeng stood up, walked over, and helped her up, smiling. “See? I didn’t want to say it, but you insisted. I said it, and now you don’t believe me. So, just consider me an old friend. There’s no need to dwell on who I am. You only need to know that I can now represent Gu Tianlang.”