The room fell into silence for a moment, and no one spoke.
Shang Can felt her fingers, resting on the edge of the table, stiffening. She vaguely understood the significance of this silence, and a sense of unusual anxiety gripped her heart, making her reluctant to ask again; she simply waited quietly for Yun Duan’s response.
“… Where did you get this sword, A Can?”
However, when Yun Duan spoke, she did not answer her, only throwing another question back at her. Shang Can could not discern the emotion hidden in her dark eyes and, after a moment of silence, replied truthfully, “I took it from the River of Forgetfulness.”
“…”
The person’s face in front of her seemed to grow even paler at Shang Can’s response. Yun Duan stared blankly at the sword Fei Wang on the table, reaching out to touch its hilt; her slender fingers trembled slightly.
“That day, you were swept away by the River of Forgetfulness…” Yun Duan’s voice was very soft, a rare hint of helplessness in it, “Was it its fault?”
Shang Can’s heart tightened, recalling the scene from that day when she had asked Nan Shuang for help.
‘You want to fish out the sword? Sure.’
In response to her request, Nan Shuang unexpectedly agreed readily and walked out with her.
‘… You already knew that Fei Wang was at the bottom of the River of Forgetfulness, didn’t you?’
Facing someone who knew her identity, Shang Can had nothing to hide. She asked directly on the way: ‘What’s going on?’
‘Right, I guess you didn’t know this.’ Nan Shuang strolled along casually and said, ‘Didn’t you ever ask your junior sister why she has always been using Wuyou?’
‘…’
‘Sorry, it seems there’s a hidden truth here.’
Seeing her expression darken, Nan Shuang readily apologized, shrugging, “But I just happened to see it back then. The reason behind it is completely unknown to me.”
‘About a year or so after I came to the Ghost Realm, shortly after I became the Ghost King, I suddenly heard that a living person had come to the Ghost Realm—I thought it was Pei Chen at the time, but it was actually your junior sister.’
‘Pei Chen is always very cautious when he comes down and rarely interacts with other ghost clans, but she was different.’ Nan Shuang recalled, laughing as if she found it amusing, ‘She ran around everywhere as if she didn’t take this place seriously at all.’
‘After that, she started coming down from time to time, each time searching through the Ghost Realm. She even tried to go through the list of ghost clans, but it seemed like she didn’t find anything.’
As they spoke, the two had already arrived at the River of Forgetfulness. Nan Shuang looked at the frowning Shang Can and sighed softly, “Even without knowing anything, I can tell that she was looking for someone.”
‘…’
Shang Can fell silent, her throat tightening with anxiety. Nan Shuang did not intend to let her off that easily; she glanced at Shang Can meaningfully and continued, “This kind of day lasted for a long time, and as for the sword you mentioned—”
Nan Shuang slowly walked to the edge of the River of Forgetfulness and kindly reminded Shang Can to keep her distance before raising her hand. The smooth flow of the river suddenly stopped, dramatically splitting in half, creating a gap in the water’s surface.
The sword she was looking for was right there.
Shang Can instinctively took two steps forward, and the long sword, which had been quietly stuck in the riverbed, suddenly trembled. The water of the River of Forgetfulness, controlled by Nan Shuang, quaked slightly as well, startling her into calling out, “You step back first!”
Shang Can had no choice but to retreat far away, watching as Nan Shuang exerted great effort to pull out the sword and hand it to her.
“That day, your junior sister returned empty-handed again.” Nan Shuang watched her take Fei Wang, the sword humming softly before falling silent, “I saw her standing by the River of Forgetfulness for a long time. Perhaps she couldn’t hold on to it, or maybe it was intentional; in any case, her Fei Wang fell into the River of Forgetfulness.”
“It is unknown whether the sword spirit was born before that or if it gradually developed an obsession during its days at the bottom of the river. However… swords are ultimately inanimate objects and do not know how to change.”
With a hint of sentimentality, Nan Shuang sighed meaningfully, “But the sword resembles its master.”
—Was it Fei Wang’s fault that she was swept away by the River of Forgetfulness?
Shang Can felt empty inside, the words she wanted to say stuck in her throat. She wanted to say it wasn’t like that, but a corner of her heart already realized the obvious answer.
“…”
At this point, she looked at Yun Duan’s thin shoulders, trembling uncontrollably, unable to conceal the panic, which revealed a hint of long-hidden pain.
…At this point.
Shang Can closed her eyes.
“It wasn’t its fault.”
Her voice came out dry, as if it were squeezed from her throat. Shang Can instinctively clenched her fist and softly said, “It was just looking for me, right?”
Startled by her words, Yun Duan suddenly raised her head to look at her, her face showing a hint of hesitation and fear. She stammered, “… You…”
Shang Can couldn’t bear to see Yun Duan like this, as if she were delicate glass, precariously swaying high above; with just a gust of wind, she could be shattered completely.
Ever since she got Fei Wang, she had been pondering when and where to have a conversation with Yun Duan. Ironically, it wasn’t until today that she realized some things seemed to have already left traces behind.
“Alright, Yun Duan.”
Shang Can tried to soften her voice as much as possible, striving to suppress the tremor in her tone, not wanting Yun Duan to notice.
“… How much do you really remember?”
Yun Duan trembled violently and instinctively tried to avert her gaze, but Shang Can didn’t give her any way out. No matter where she looked, Shang Can’s gaze held her directly, catching all her confusion, fear, and trepidation, until Yun Duan finally surrendered, lowering her eyelids, her pale lips trembling slightly.
“—I remember everything.”
“… Except for what happened on the day Sister disappeared,” Yun Duan spoke quietly, as if relieved, “I remember everything.”
Shang Can nodded and asked softly, “Since when did you recognize me?”
“From the very beginning.”
Yun Duan raised her eyes to look at Shang Can again, her clear, dark eyes shining with a brilliant light. Her hands on her knees tightened into fists, her voice trembling violently, yet she still looked straight at Shang Can, speaking deliberately, “From that night when I met you outside the sky, I recognized you.”
“…” Shang Can blinked slowly, letting out a soft laugh, “I see.”
She vaguely recalled the scene from that day when they first met, when she bumped into Wuyou’s hilt while dodging an attack.
“You knew long ago that Wuyou had a sword spirit, didn’t you?”
As if chatting casually, Shang Can asked gently. Yun Duan stared at her blankly, nodded, and whispered, “Yes.”
“No wonder…”
After their reunion, it seemed that Yun Duan’s various behaviors now had explanations. Shang Can murmured, “I heard that Master sealed your memories…”
“… She did cast a spell,” Yun Duan’s face flashed with confusion, “But it didn’t actually take effect.”
Shang Can widened her eyes and suddenly laughed, saying, “So you were pretending to deceive Master and the others all along?”
Yun Duan gazed at Shang Can without blinking, biting her lip as she replied softly, “… Yes, I was pretending.”
Her attitude was cautious and careful, watching Shang Can intently, as if fearing to miss even a slight change in her emotions.
Upon hearing Yun Duan confess that she remembered almost everything, Shang Can found herself calmer than she had expected. However, seeing Yun Duan’s fragile attitude, a wave of unspeakable bitterness suddenly welled up inside her.
Shang Can remained silent for a long time before finally asking the question that had lingered in her mind, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“…”
Yun Duan froze, taking a slight breath as if to shrink back, then slowly exhaled.
“… Because Sister seemed to not want me to remember.” Her voice was very soft, like a bubble that would shatter before reaching the ground, hiding within it a joy of having regained something and a heavy, suffocating dread, “If Sister thinks this is better, then I’ts…”
The words that followed were not spoken, but Shang Can understood Yun Duan’s meaning.
—It’s fine if I forget.
Though the words were full of affection and indulgence, Shang Can felt a dense pain continually assaulting her heart, gradually transforming into a sharp, unbearable agony. This pain was too real, causing her to instinctively touch her chest. Cold sweat trickled down her forehead as Shang Can gripped her clothes tightly, breathing in small gasps to suppress the waves of chills coursing through her body.
Yun Duan noticed her unusual state and quickly set aside her awkwardness and anxiety to support her, trembling as she asked, “Senior sister, what’s wrong? Is it an old injury acting up again?”
What should I do? What can I do?
It was just a simple form of address, yet it pierced her heart like a blade made of honey, the melted syrup mixing with her blood, creating a sweet pain that made her body tremble.
So happy, so painful. I want to touch you, I want to leave. It’s all—everything—
“—It’s all my fault.”
Shang Can suddenly stood up, her face pale as paper, her body tensed tightly, and her clenched fists occasionally revealed a few nervous tremors.
“Yun Duan, Yun Duan, I…”
A thousand words were caught in her throat, all that she wanted to say turning into the warm remnants of a choked sob. Shang Can didn’t know what she wanted to express; she only gazed deeply at Yun Duan, who was also rising to approach her out of worry.
Her heart felt like it was being torn apart. It seemed that half of her was delighted by what she had just heard, while the other half suffered from that despicable joy.
When she heard Yun Duan say she didn’t remember the day of the incident, Shang Can surprisingly felt a sense of relief. The fact that Yun Duan didn’t remember being hurt by her… that was truly… truly awful.
Conflicting thoughts exploded in her mind. Shang Can looked at Yun Duan, feeling that since their reunion, it was the first time she could look at her without needing to hide anything. She slowly revealed a reassuring smile but couldn’t bring herself to speak.
—I can no longer be your senior sister; I can’t go back with you.
Each of those sentences was the truth, yet none could be spoken aloud.
As Yun Duan said, Shang Can had once thought that it would be fine for them to continue interacting like this, just as Yun Zhongjun and Can Zhe, at least without having to consider their past entanglements, and she could look at her openly with a different identity.
But that was merely her fantasy, a wish she imposed onto Yun Duan. Shang Can didn’t dare to think about what Yun Duan felt when she recognized her that night, nor could she contemplate what emotions Yun Duan experienced during all those past days and nights they spent together. Guilt wrapped around her like vines, leaving Shang Can at a loss.
She felt she had made a grave mistake but didn’t know when it had started going wrong, or how to untangle it now.
Look, she made Yun Duan sad again.
In the long silence, Shang Can saw Yun Duan’s bright eyes dim slightly, hesitatingly speaking, “… You’re not in the wrong; it’s me, it’s me who has kept things from you. Can we still be like before? Can we—”
Every word was a heartfelt offering from Yun Duan, yet Shang Can couldn’t utter a single one. She vaguely pondered what “like before” meant, whether it would be good, and how long it could last.
How long would she delay Yun Duan?
Who is the cage, who is the bird? Who is truly trapped by whom?
In the past, Shang Can always felt she was the one trapped in that rain ten years ago, only to realize today that she wasn’t the only one ensnared.
If she had known it would be this entangling.
Suddenly, Shang Can raised a hand, as if she wanted to touch Yun Duan, but quickly recoiled, stepping back two paces.
Yun Duan was startled and rushed to catch up, trying to grasp Shang Can’s hand, but she was dodged in a somewhat flustered manner.
The gaze directed at her was too piercing; Shang Can instinctively averted her eyes, slowly pushing herself to the door’s edge. She moved her lips, forcing out a gentle smile.
“… I want to go out for a while, to think about these things.”
Seeing the unease swell in Yun Duan’s eyes, Shang Can felt a pang of pain but could only soothe her with pale words: “I promise I will be back tomorrow.”
“I promise.” She repeated it, her voice earnest, finally lifting her head to meet Yun Duan’s eyes, her tone softening suddenly, “Duan’er, believe me this time, okay?”
Shang Can acknowledged that she had done something cunning, but she had always been adept at using such methods when facing Yun Duan. She watched as Yun Duan blinked in confusion, hesitating for a long time before quietly murmuring an affirmative, her ears reddening beneath her hair.
Until Shang Can left Tianwaitian, wandering aimlessly through the deserted streets of Yanyang late at night for half an hour, that flicker of red continued to swirl in her mind restlessly. Her palms were icy, yet her face burned, the overwhelming emotions coalescing into a state of helplessness as she exhaled deeply in the night wind.
Yun Duan remembered everything; it was clearly the worst possible situation. Yet Shang Can found herself unable to suppress the joy spilling out from a hidden corner of her heart.
She wanted to temporarily distance herself from Tianwaitian and Yun Duan’s place, but her steps inexplicably slowed, aimlessly wandering the streets in futile anxiety.
Shang Can looked up at the night sky; it was a starless, moonless night, pitch-black in every direction, perfectly suited to conceal her tumultuous emotions.
Her heart was like a double thread net, intertwined with countless knots.
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