Chapter Forty-Nine: The Letter of Divorce

Xie Yingying blinked, utterly bewildered, and looked again more carefully, finally spotting a few people whose attire could still be considered “modest.” For instance, the somberly dressed Gu Ruohan in black, Huo Tianqing, and the slender Silver Bell in her thin purple gauze, which, despite its lightness, revealed little. They all gazed at her with either profound grief or shocked expressions.

Xie Yingying pressed her lips together, clenched her right hand, and slammed the door shut behind her. Only then did her anxious heart settle. She walked to the table, picked up a teacup, and was about to sip the cool tea when suddenly a sharp crack sounded—from the door. She snapped her head up in alarm to see a fissure several dozen centimeters long split across the door; before she could react, the door burst apart with a crash, splinters flying everywhere, some clinging to her face, and even the tea in her hand could not escape, the surface littered with drifting wood chips.

She stared at the ruined doorway in shock and suspicion, only to see Gu Ruohan step forward, his expression colder than ever, ice settling in his eyes, so much so that Xie Yingying felt her blood slow as if freezing. Behind him, a crowd of fellow disciples and sorrowful paramours approached, surrounding her.

Xie Yingying suddenly felt a splitting headache, unsure whether it was from lack of oxygen or simple irritation at the sight of them.

“You want me to leave?” Gu Ruohan fixed his gaze on her.

Rubbing her temples, Xie Yingying thought in exasperation: The original owner truly attracted all the wrong admirers.

After a moment, she lifted her eyes to look at the expectant men waiting for her explanation and spoke in a weary, quiet tone, “Yes, I no longer wish to practice dual cultivation with anyone. You should all go.”

“Are you certain?” Gu Ruohan took a step closer.

“Yes.” Xie Yingying pushed him back half a step. “I no longer wish to pursue the Way of Passion. Anyway, with my current cultivation, switching paths isn’t impossible.”

Gu Ruohan lowered his gaze, hiding the sorrow in his eyes, lips pressed into a thin line.

Huo Tianqing, hands clasped behind his back, had entered at some point and asked, half-smiling, “Disciple, have you truly made up your mind?”

Xie Yingying nodded, her gaze unwavering. “Yes, I’ve decided.”

Silver Bell’s shock had not diminished since the beginning, her eyes wide. “Senior Sister, why? Even if you switch to another method, you’ll still be affected!”

Xie Yingying was about to say more. Hearing Silver Bell’s question, she felt both helpless and increasingly irritable.

“Silver Bell, I’ve already said it,” she replied, taking a deep breath, her tone utterly cold.

Gu Ruohan, after so many years with Xie Yingying, knew she was growing impatient. He raised a hand and waved the men away. “You should leave for now.”

They respected Gu Ruohan’s authority; though curiosity and displeasure lingered, his reputation for strength and ruthlessness left them no choice but to obey.

Huo Tianqing, witnessing this, frowned at his own disciples. “You should leave as well.”

They nodded, bowed respectfully, and departed, leaving only three people in the room.

Xie Yingying felt the space open up, her chest no longer tight.

“Yingying, I like you, you know that,” Gu Ruohan sighed.

Xie Yingying, still wary of him, refused to meet his gaze. She strode to the desk, ground ink, and wrote a hasty letter of dismissal, then thrust it into Gu Ruohan’s hand. “Read it carefully,” she said coldly.

Gu Ruohan unfolded the letter, his face tinged with bitterness. The writing was rough, only a few lines, but to him, it was concise and final: “I, Xie Yingying, no longer wish to pursue the Way of Passion. If fate allows, we may meet again someday.”

From the letter, Gu Ruohan understood she truly wished to be rid of him, and still resented him for failing to save her.

He forced a wry smile, panic and sorrow flickering in his eyes. “Yingying, are you joking with me?”

“No,” Xie Yingying replied impatiently.

Gu Ruohan’s expression grew more frigid. “You really mean to abandon me as well?”

“Yes.” Xie Yingying’s brow furrowed.

“Have you fallen for Bai Shengyun? Hmm?” Gu Ruohan pressed, voice rising in anger. “Didn’t you say how badly he treated you? You like being abandoned and tormented? Xie Yingying, are you out of your mind?”

Xie Yingying said nothing, anger burning in her eyes. Her spiritual power flared, and she raised her hand to strike him.

Gu Ruohan had not expected her sudden attack. He froze, staring at the surge of spiritual energy rushing toward him, panic and grief now unrestrained in his eyes.

With a wave of her sleeve, Xie Yingying sent a gust to sweep him straight out of the room.

Huo Tianqing looked on as Gu Ruohan was expelled, his expression unchanged, even waving him off with a hint of amusement, closing the door behind him with “good intentions.”

He turned back to Xie Yingying, a smile still on his lips, but a trace of fierceness and murderous intent now lingered between his brows.

“Disciple, since you returned from Mount Gufu, you’ve changed so much I barely recognize you,” Huo Tianqing remarked, his tone meaningful. “So, have you really fallen for that Bai Shengyun boy?”

Xie Yingying’s heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, she sensed something wrong with Huo Tianqing, but his expression betrayed nothing.

She forced herself to remain composed, laughing lightly to mask her fleeting anxiety. “Master, people change, and we haven’t seen each other in ages,” she answered with a smile. “Besides, how could I possibly be interested in Bai Shengyun?”

With that, she hurried to the desk, scribbled several more rough, concise letters of dismissal, and said, “Master, I’ll go deliver these to them first. I’ll be back soon!”

No sooner had she spoken than she slipped from the room, delighted to find the corridor deserted, and quickly left the sleeping palace.

Huo Tianqing sighed, slowly stepping out, his spiritual sense following her hurried figure.

She clutched her stack of dismissal letters and, guided by memory, made her way to her inner palace to send everyone away. Yet, upon entering, she found only emptiness, not a soul in sight, which struck her as odd.

But if they weren’t present, Xie Yingying didn’t know how to properly address those persistent entanglements. The letters now seemed useless, so she could only leave.

No sooner had she stepped outside than she encountered the relaxed Huo Tianqing.

Xie Yingying’s brow twitched. She hadn’t expected him to be so persistent.

“Hm? They’re not there?” Huo Tianqing beamed, gesturing at the vast palace behind her.

Xie Yingying laughed awkwardly. “Perhaps they’re busy elsewhere. I’ll go find them.”

She turned to leave, but Huo Tianqing seized her wrist.