webnovelvip Chapter 563 Bewitching the Mind
Chapter 563 Bewitching the Mind
The next day, just as dawn was breaking, Xu Longxiang was already sitting in Zhenyue Hall.
He didn't know when he sat down, only that when he woke up, the sky outside the window was still a gray-blue. He put on his coat, walked through the corridor, pushed open the door of Zhenyue Hall, sat down on the chair behind the long table, and then never moved again.
He didn't light a lamp or ask anyone to make tea; he just sat there, like someone waiting for dawn.
Morning light seeped in through the cracks in the window, spreading a thin, grayish-white layer of light across the floor.
A few birdsongs drifted from afar, crisp and short, like someone testing the strings of a musical instrument nearby before putting it down.
He heard footsteps.
It came from the end of the corridor, very light and steady, like a leaf being blown by the wind, drifting closer slowly.
Xu Longxiang's fingers gripped the armrest tightly, then loosened, then loosened again, then gripped it tightly once more.
The door was pushed open, and the morning light poured in, making the moon-white figure stand out clearly.
Chen Ruoyao stood at the doorway, not wearing a mask. Her face, identical to Yun Suxin's, was almost translucent in the morning light. Her gaze fell on Xu Longxiang's face, as if she were looking at something she already knew would be sitting there waiting. She didn't rush in, but stood on the threshold, as if waiting for her breathing to calm down. Then she stepped across the threshold, walked to the opposite side of the long table, and sat down in a chair.
Xu Longxiang looked at her, seeing her calm, unreadable expression, and the weight that had been hanging over his heart all night finally stirred slightly. His voice was more urgent than he had expected when he spoke: "How is it?"
Chen Ruoyao didn't answer immediately. She turned her head slightly, as if to make herself more comfortable, before speaking in a soft voice, carrying just the right amount of weariness: "He has agreed to stay."
When those six words landed in Zhenyue Hall, Xu Longxiang felt something in his chest suddenly loosen. Like a string stretched taut all night finally being released, a tremor of indescribable vibration resonated within his chest. His clenched fingers slowly relaxed, the veins on the back of his hands gradually subsided, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up slightly, which he then suppressed, but the upward curve still left a faint trace in the morning light. He exhaled a long, light breath, like a stone that had been pressing down all night finally being lifted, allowing sunlight to seep in through the cracks.
"Okay. Okay." He repeated twice, his voice carrying a barely suppressed yet still palpable excitement. Then, as if remembering something, his gaze returned to Chen Ruoyao's face, the light that had just brightened momentarily freezing, like a pebble striking the surface of a lake. His voice lowered, tinged with a hesitant probing, as if unsure how to ask: "Then, did you... have... been... by him?"
He didn't finish his sentence, but the ending was already quite obvious, like a line hanging in mid-air, not yet fallen, but everyone knew where it would fall.
Chen Ruoyao looked at him. Her gaze was flat, as flat as a pool of water frozen with a thin layer of ice, its depth and temperature unreadable. Then she shook her head: "No."
Xu Longxiang's heart skipped a beat, as if he had just escaped a long period of breathlessness, and he could almost feel his limbs regaining warmth. A wave of relief washed over him, cleansing away the anxiety and unease of the entire night. But beneath that relief, he suddenly sensed something amiss—a faint, tingling sensation, like the first prickling feeling you get when your numb fingers are slowly warming up by a fireplace in the dead of winter. He was disappointed. He was disappointed by that "no."
He didn't know why he felt this way; he should be happy. She hadn't been taken advantage of; she had returned unharmed; she had only acted in this play for the greater cause, and everything had gone according to his plan. Yet, sitting there, looking at that calm face, he felt a quiet emptiness in a corner of his heart that he had never known existed, as if afraid of being discovered.
The feeling of emptiness was fleeting, so fleeting that he almost thought he hadn't experienced it at all. Yet it left a very faint trace, like a burnt thread, extinguished but with ashes still lingering.
Chen Ruoyao stood up: "I'm a little tired, I'll go back and rest first."
Her tone carried a perfect amount of weariness, like someone who had just completed a difficult task and was using the last of their strength to prop themselves up from the chair. After saying that, she turned and walked towards the door without waiting for Xu Longxiang's reply.
Xu Longxiang sat in the chair, his gaze fixed on her back. He saw her stand up, saw the hem of her moon-white dress trace a gentle arc on the ground as she turned around, and saw her take a step.
Then his gaze froze.
Her gait was fine. Each step was steady, her back straight, her shoulders and neck relaxed, showing no abnormality. But there was something indescribable about her walking posture. It wasn't the weight of her feet, nor the rhythm of her steps, but rather that her legs, which were usually neatly together, now had a very slight gap between them as she took a step.
The gap was very light and faint, like a sliver of light just enough to pass through between two sheets of paper. If you didn't look closely, you wouldn't notice it at all, but in Xu Longxiang's eyes, it was like a drop of ink falling into clear water, slowly and irreversibly spreading out.
His fingers gripped the armrest tightly again.
He watched Chen Ruoyao's figure disappear into the morning light outside the door, watched the door slowly close behind her, and watched the last sliver of her moon-white skirt be swallowed by the light through the crack in the door.
He sat there, motionless, his gaze fixed on the closed door, as if looking at something he hadn't yet figured out how to face.
Morning light filtered through the cracks in the window, slowly shifting across the floor. He sat there in that shifting light and shadow, like a tree that had just realized it had been bent over by the wind, unsure whether to straighten up again, or which direction to take root anew.