Chapter 122: Burning Memories

The air inside the tent felt too tight...eternally suffocating.

Lieyin didn’t move right away after her question. Her gaze fixed on Ru Yi’s as if searching for something deeper than words, something unspoken that might give her permission or deny it entirely.

The dim light filtering through the canvas softened the sharpness in her expression, but it didn’t hide the tension in her eyes.

Ru Yi didn’t pull away.

That alone was a response.

Lieyin leaned in slowly, almost cautiously...giving Ru Yi the time to stop her if she wanted. Her movements were deliberate and controlled in a way that made it clear how much effort it took.

The space between them closed inch by inch, breath brushing against their faces. The world outside the tent started to fade into nothing.

Ru Yi’s lashes fluttered, but she didn’t turn her head away. For a fleeting second it felt like everything around them had gone still.

Their lips were only an inch apart when Ru Yi closed her eyes in anticipation. Except— Lieyin froze.

Her expression shifted sharply, like a thread snapping taut inside her. She pulled back as quickly as she had leaned in, the distance between them returning all at once. Sudden and undeniable.

The tent flap rustled and Yexue stepped inside.

The timing was so precise it almost felt deliberate, like the world itself had intervened.

Yexue’s eyes moved between them instantly, taking in the closeness that had just been there. The tension was still lingering in the air, an unreadable expression flashing across her expression before she masked it.

Lieyin didn’t hesitate as she stood up. "The two of you need to talk," she said simply, her tone giving nothing away.

She didn’t bother to look at either of them as she walked out of the tent without another word.

The silence she left behind was heavier than before.

Yexue stood there for a moment, her hand still resting against the edge of the tent flap. Her gaze went to the ground, as if it was more interesting than the person sitting in front of her.

Then slowly she let it fall closed behind her.

"I..." she started, but the words didn’t make it far.

Ru Yi watched her quietly, her expression softer now. Though her face still held that desperate fragility at the edges.

Yexue took a step forward, then another, until the small space between them felt just as suffocating as before. But for entirely different reasons this time.

"I’m sorry."

The words came out rough, like they had been forced past something lodged in her throat.

Ru Yi blinked.

Yexue’s hands clenched at her sides as she continued, her composure slipping in a way it rarely did.

"I should’ve been there for you," she continued, her voice growing unsteady by the second.

Guilt bled into it, but it wasn’t directed outward. It lingered enough for Yexue to feel the full weight of it settle into her bones, heavy and suffocating—pressing against her ribs until breathing itself felt like something she had to force.

She put her hand on Ru Yi’s shoulder. "Letting you stay with them was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my entire life. I keep wondering what would have happened if Lieyin hadn’t gotten there fast enough.

Yexue let out a hollow breath, her gaze unfocused now. "I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me, or never want to be with me again. I left you all alone and vulnerable and—"

Ru Yi put her hand on top of Yexue’s. "I don’t blame you for what happened."

"But I failed you." Her response was instinctive.

Refusing to accept what Ru Yi was saying was the only way she could make sense of the guilt that was eating her up.

"I can’t undo it," Yexue continued in a whisper, eyes dropping to the floor. "I can’t go back and change that I wasn’t there when you needed me the most."

Ru Yi took hold of Yexue’s wrist. "Then don’t trap yourself in a moment that has already passed."

Yexue let out a slow steady breath, but the tension didn’t fully leave her. "I don’t deserve to move on from it so easily," she admitted. Her voice was heavy with shame. "Not when you’re the one that had to live through it."

Ru Yi’s expression softened as she finally understood what was wrong. "Listen to me carefully, Yexue."

She did.

"Don’t punish yourself for a circumstance you could not control. I don’t blame you for what happened, you shouldn’t blame yourself either." The words were calm but resolute. "Don’t take my pain and make it your punishment."

"Ru Yi..."

That statement struck deeper than anything else had.

For a moment she didn’t know how to respond. The guilt she had been clinging to suddenly felt less like atonement and more like something selfish. Something that centered her in a moment that wasn’t hers to claim.

"Then tell me what to do," Yexue said quietly, the fight gone from her voice. It was replaced with something more vulnerable, more uncertain.

Ru Yi studied her for a moment, her gaze searching and thoughtful. "Just look at me, that’s all I ask."

The simplicity of it made Yexue’s heart ache.

She put her fingers under Ru Yi’s chin and knelt down in front of her. "I don’t think you’re filthy or broken." She caressed the side of her face. "A man’s actions do not define your worth, and I don’t want you to ever forget that."

Ru Yi gave her a faint nod before leaning into Yexue’s touch.

"What can I do to make it better?" Yexue asked again. Putting her forehead on Ru Yi’s. "I don’t want you to be in pain. Tell me how to make you feel better."

For a moment Ru Yi went still. She hesitated before reaching up slowly to brush her fingers against Yexue’s sleeve.

"Kiss me," Ru Yi finally answered in a hoarse voice.

Yexue’s breath hitched.

"Replace his every touch with yours so I can burn the memory of him from my mind."