The exit of the ice cave was an upward-sloping fissure, so narrow that one could only pass through by turning sideways.
Bai Qingxue was the first to squeeze through, then she reached back her hand to pull Lu Xueqing up.
After Lu Xueqing reached the top, she did not withdraw her hand immediately. She let it linger in that coolness for a moment before letting it drop back to her side.
Ning Qinghan was the last.
She didn't reach for a hand when she came up, instead hauling herself out by bracing against the ice walls.
Before the three of them, the light of day poured down.
Ning Qinghan stood where she was, motionless.
She raised her head, gazing at the sky outside the ice cave.
The sky over the ice field was blue.
It was so blue it didn't seem real, looking instead like something a child had painted on layer by layer with a brush.
At the same time, a few clouds drifted over from the east. They moved slowly, like white paper boats floating on the surface of water, directionless and in no hurry to reach the shore.
In truth, Ning Qinghan had spent ten years in the ice cave and had long since forgotten what the sky looked like.
She stared at that blue for a very long time.
She suddenly remembered that when she had first hidden in that fissure ten years ago, the sky had looked just like this.
Back then, she had thought she would be out soon.
It was just a mission, just a restriction, just a seal.
She had thought that as long as she hid away, freedom would be a matter of time.
Yet ten years had passed.
A full ten years.
Only now was she able to see the light of day again.
But freedom still dangled before her, neither far nor near—much like the clouds before her eyes, visible but unreachable.
Ning Qinghan lowered her head and continued walking forward.
Her slightly oversized boots stepped onto the frozen soil, making dull thudding sounds. Every step seemed to serve as a reminder to herself.
This was not her home, nor was it the freedom she sought.
...
Lu Xueqing walked beside Bai Qingxue, half a step behind.
Her left shoulder was still wrapped in bandages. As she walked, she subconsciously hunched that side slightly, as if she didn't want Bai Qingxue to see it.
“Junior Sister Bai, are you really going to take her back?”
Bai Qingxue nodded.
Lu Xueqing’s voice dropped lower. “She is from the demonic sect. The sect won't accept her easily.”
Bai Qingxue didn't answer immediately.
The wind blew, pressing strands of silver-white hair against her pale cheek. She didn't brush them away.
“Now... she isn't.”
Her voice was very light, nearly scattering as the wind carried it away. But Lu Xueqing heard it.
She turned her head, looking at Bai Qingxue’s profile.
When Bai Qingxue said those words, her gaze didn't fall on Ning Qinghan, nor did it fall on her.
She simply looked ahead at the grayish-brown frozen plain, as if there were something worth looking at intently on that barren land.
Lu Xueqing suddenly felt her throat tighten.
She sometimes felt that Bai Qingxue’s definition of “her own people” was simplistic to the point of being naive.
For those she placed outside that boundary, she wouldn't even bother to say a single word.
But once she decided someone was one of “her own,” she became completely defenseless. She wouldn't ask about their past, their motives, or whether they might hurt her.
It was as if, in her eyes, the world was only divided into two types of people: those who had nothing to do with her, and those who would not hurt her.
But in this world, who was truly incapable of hurting someone else?
Even Lu Xueqing herself couldn't guarantee it.
She knew how many thoughts she shouldn't have were spinning in her head every time she approached Bai Qingxue. She knew that every time she restrained herself, she was merely standing at the edge of the abyss for a moment longer.
She knew she could fall at any time—or rather, choose to jump.
But Bai Qingxue didn't know.
Or perhaps Bai Qingxue knew, but didn't care.
This thought made Lu Xueqing’s heart feel both sour and hot.
It was sour because Bai Qingxue seemed unable to see the undercurrents in her heart.
It was hot because Bai Qingxue didn't care about those undercurrents, yet still let her stay close.
But Lu Xueqing knew at least one thing: she must be special to Junior Sister Bai.
Yet knowing was one thing.
The human heart is not easily satisfied.
Once close, one wants to be closer.
A little closer, and one wants to touch.
Having touched, one wants to hold.
Having held, one wants to never let go.
Lu Xueqing knew she was special.
But she wanted to know where the boundary of this “specialness” lay.
Bai Qingxue indulged her.
It had started a long time ago.
Whether it was the embrace or that kiss mark, Junior Sister Bai had indulged it all.
But where was the limit of that indulgence?
What if she took a step further? What if, instead of kissing the side of her neck, she kissed her somewhere else?
What if she wasn't just by the window, but on the bed?
What if it wasn't while Junior Sister Bai was awake, but while she was circulating her cultivation?
Would Junior Sister Bai indulge her? Or would she push her away?
Lu Xueqing didn't know.
She wanted to know.
Yet she was afraid to know.
What she feared was that Bai Qingxue’s indulgence had no limit.
That would mean that in Bai Qingxue’s heart, she could do anything because Bai Qingxue simply didn't care at all.
She feared even more that the indulgence had a limit.
That if she crossed that line, she would be pushed away.
And once pushed away, Lu Xueqing didn't know if she could ever get close again.
So she remained stopped here.
Stopped at the step of “kissing the neck.”
Neither moving forward nor back, neither rising nor falling.
Like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing full well there was an abyss ahead, yet unable to stop herself from looking down.
That was why she yearned for Bai Qingxue to take the initiative; that was the safest way.
But Lu Xueqing was also too desperate.
She desperately wanted to see a crack appear on that eternally calm face.
She wanted to see something break or ignite in those pale eyes.
She wanted to see Bai Qingxue no longer look like “anything is fine” or “nothing matters.”
She wanted to see where Bai Qingxue’s bottom line was.
Because only by seeing that bottom line would she know that she wasn't “replaceable by anyone.”
Only by seeing Bai Qingxue refuse, push away, or get angry could she be certain that Bai Qingxue cared.
But Bai Qingxue never refused, never pushed away, and never got angry.
Bai Qingxue always walked so quietly, the lines of her profile as cold and clear as a painting.
The wind blew her silver hair, but she didn't brush it aside. Whatever Lu Xueqing said, she would just respond with a soft “mm.”
Like a walking porcelain doll.
Lu Xueqing sometimes felt that Bai Qingxue’s indulgence was a wall.
A wall that encased her.
Lu Xueqing was safe inside the wall; she wouldn't get hurt, but she couldn't get out either.
Because she couldn't shatter that wall made of ice.
She could press her hand against it and feel the chill seeping into her palm.
But her hand couldn't pass through, her voice couldn't reach the other side, and she couldn't feel what kind of heart lay beyond the icy surface.
And Lu Xueqing wanted to know. She wanted to know what was on the other side of the wall.
She wanted to know the real Bai Qingxue.
Yet she didn't dare to truly shatter that wall.
So she stopped there.
Clear-headedly knowing she was being indulged, clear-headedly knowing her own greed was insatiable, clear-headedly knowing she was at the edge of a cliff.
Lu Xueqing lowered her head, looking at her hand.
That hand had just held Bai Qingxue’s fingertips, but now it was empty, holding nothing. She clenched her hand into a fist, then released it.
Then she turned her head and stole a glance at Bai Qingxue.
Bai Qingxue was looking ahead. The lines of her profile appeared exceptionally cold in the freezing wind, her eyelashes motionless, like an ice sculpture that would never melt.
Lu Xueqing looked at that beautiful face.
She suddenly wondered, what if she kissed her again right now, in front of Ning Qinghan?
What if this time it wasn't the side of her neck, but her lips?
Would Junior Sister Bai dodge?
Or would she stand there quietly like last time and say nothing afterward?
She wanted to know.
But she still didn't do it.
She only moved her steps half an inch closer.
Now her shoulder was nearly touching Bai Qingxue’s arm, but in the end, she didn't lean against it.
She only drew near.
Near enough that she could feel the coolness from Bai Qingxue’s body seeping through two layers of fabric, bit by bit.
That coolness kept her sober, making her acutely aware of exactly what she was doing.
Yet it also made her crave it, making her cherish this fleeting, even if self-deluded, “closeness.”
Lu Xueqing knew she was indulging herself.
Even as Bai Qingxue indulged her, she was indulging herself in return.
She could only go on like this, both fearful and at peace.
She could only continue walking.
Quietly keeping her shoulder near Bai Qingxue’s arm, stepping her boots onto the gravel where Bai Qingxue had just trod.
Step after step.
Lu Xueqing thought she would likely keep walking like this forever.
Until the day she dared to ask.
Until the day she had no choice but to ask.
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