"No."

"I am only... a qin maid."

"I like your qin."

"I'm not good enough for Duke."

"I'm good enough for you."

"I'm not pretty enough."

"I think you're fine to look at."

These words rang in her ears.

Do you remember, moon? On Mount Dianqing, Bai Pingting reached out, inch by inch, across the mountain of national hate, through the flames of war between the two countries' armies and gratitude from fifteen years of upbringing.

She knew that she had crossed the flames, and she knew that she had spent fifteen of each season at the Jing-An Ducal Residence.

She knew that she had really stretched out her hand and crossed over the impossible mountain of national hate.

Was there really no place for feelings to hide in national pride?

Pingting shifted her gaze to look at the moon at the side of the sky.

The cruel moon had stealthily crept until it was nearly sitting on the branches of the forest trees.

Yet, there was still no movement from the east.

The sky slowly pressed down and the earth seemed to be as quiet as death, or simply everyone wating breathlessly.

On the small table beside her, the black-coloured medicined had already cooled.

The bright moon was heartless, the shadows too. She raised her head and saw the moon refusing to pause its pace. Little by little, it reached the tops of the trees.

Numerous bloodstains had been left on her lips from her teeth and her palm was slowly darkening from her pinches.

A sour taste swelled in her eyes, gradually heating, but she refused to let a single teardrop fall. She feared that when she cried, her nightmare would come true.

She stood by the window, her back straight, as if her backbone were made by a sword. She could only stand strong for so long. It seemed that she would no longer be supported with just the slightest movement. If so, she would crumble and be swept away by the north wind, not leaving the slightest trace.

"From today on, you mustn't neglect yourself, nor harm yourself."

She could not forget Chu Beijie's words and could not forget the warm feeling that swelled in her chest when she looked into his deep eyes.

Why fear a country's hate if there was true love?

If it was a genuine, stubbornly persistent love with respect, no matter the hundreds or thousands of twists and turns, one should never change their mind.

After all, what was more important than looking at the person you love every day and night?

Time continued to quietly trickle by.

Dear moon, I beg you, don't disappoint me.

Just this once, in my entire life, please don't disappoint me!

Her slender fingers clutched onto the cloth at her chest.

Yet the moon had no ears. Perhaps it heard Pingting's voice but harshly ignored it.

There remained no sound from the east.

Desperation slowly flooded and penetrated her once sparkling eyes.

The moon had passed half the sky.

Pingting looked at it, directly above the trees, glowing its relentless light.

At that moment, she forgot that it was the sixth, forgot about the surrounding soldiers, forgot about Zuiju, forgot about He Xia and forgot her vows.

She forgot everything.

Everything was as empty as a hole. Her limbs were attached, but they were no longer supported.

There was only the sound of her heart cracking, slow and harsh, piece by piece.

Like a crystal lotus, its petals began to be torn ruthlessly until not one was left.

Broken.

Broken into a myriad pieces.

"Miss..."

Pingting slowly turned to see Zuiju's very mournful expression.

Her gaze fell on the bowl of black medicine on the table.

Zuiju looked out from misty eyes as Pingting walked over, who then picked up the bowl. The bowl seemed to weigh a ton. The bowl trembled in her hands, causing strong ripples at its surface, spilling onto the sides and onto the top of the table. The silence in the room made the atmosphere even more suffocating.

Her heart.

The gentlesss had gone.

The joy had gone.

Only despair and pain remained in her eyes, churning constantly. Her eyes were wide as if watching someone slowly taking out her heart and liver.

Zuiju knew that she would never forget Pingting's expression at that time.

Pingting brought the medicine to her lips and paused, as if she no longer had any energy left. The coldness touched her lips. She was reminded of the immense sense of loss she felt which made her shake, causing her hands to slip.

Crash!

The bowl broke into numerous pieces, and the black potion poured all over the floor.

The bitter tears she had forced back for so long finally rolled out like broken pearls from her trembling eyes.

Pingting fell to her knees, crumpling to a tight ball. Painful spasms ran through her body as her hands clutched tightly to her shoulders.

Her cries tore out of her soul, desolately honest, from her bloodied lips.

"Miss Bai..."

Zuiju sadly stroked her head but this seemed to shock Pingting even more. She suddenly looked up, her face full of tears. "Zuiju, don't force me. Please, please, don't force me like this!" she begged.

Zuiju felt like she was bitten by a snake and was reduced to touching Pingting's hand.

Was this the romantic, joyful Bai Pingting?

That person who could go several days without food or drink, leisurely read on the couch and asked her, "Can you smell the scent of snow?"? That Bai Pingting?

No.

That romantic, fairy-like person had been ruined.

Ruined by He Xia, ruined by the King of Dong Lin, ruined by Chu Beijie and ruined by Zuiju herself.

This bloody world could not tolerate the proud, dedicated Bai Pingting.

She was there before her eyes but in reality, faraway. Just a gentle touch would cause her to disperse like smoke without warning.

The medicine she personally brewed was now stained to the ground, looking like a spill of thick black blood. Zuiju looked at the crying Pingting, her distressed heart.

She never knew that she could be so cruel.

Moran's figure appeared at the door.