Chapter 40

“Oh…” she said, “What about your master?”

“He was called my master, but we never performed the formal disciple ceremony,” Nian Qi replied. “After all, it’s different from ordinary sects.”

In typical sects, the tradition is to pass down martial arts, expand their influence, and conduct formal ceremonies to take in disciples. The rigorous training prepared them to become laborers and expendables. The person who taught them martial arts was more like an instructor than a true master. Some children never graduated from training. The lucky ones would move on to chores or administrative work. Others simply didn’t survive.

Even if someone had friends, greeting them with a smile one day might mean nothing—there was no guarantee that person would still be alive the next day. Life was uncertain, with the ever-present danger of dying during missions. Relationships were generally cold and detached. If they recognized each other by their numbers and exchanged nods, it was considered a decent bond.

“My full name is actually Bingwu Nian Qi. I was officially registered in the records the year I completed my training,” he explained. “But in the roster, there was no one with a number like mine, so people just call me Nian Qi.”

“I’ve always performed well and earned enough silver for the organization. But by the rules, I have to wait until I’m thirty to leave.”

“Many people hold onto the hope of leaving but rarely make it to that age. A lot of them perish at twenty-eight or twenty-nine.”

“There was an old one-armed steward who had retired from injury. He once told me that as people near freedom, they become restless and reckless, and that’s when accidents happen. Twenty-eight or twenty-nine is a dangerous threshold.”

“I’m close to that age now, and sure enough, something happened. But I was lucky enough not to die, ending up here and meeting you.”

In the dim light, Ruan Qing listened, feeling the weight of the harsh reality that Nian Qi had faced in another time and place.

“Nian Qi, just stay here. Even if a time tunnel appears, don’t go back,” she said. “You won’t die here, I promise.”

“Here, the average lifespan is around seventy or eighty years, much longer than in your time. Just live your life, grow old.”

“Don’t worry about money. I can help you. Even if you can’t find work later, it’s fine—you can work with me. I’ll pay you a salary, really.”

“Alright.” He agreed readily, with ease. The lightness in his response was part of their daily interactions, a feeling they both cherished.

Ruan Qing laughed. It was a quiet laugh, but it was right beside him.

After a moment of pause, Nian Qi asked softly, “Ruan Qing, do you need me to avenge you?”

“Hmm?” She was taken aback. “Avenge me for what?”

He carefully chose his words. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you were talking quite loudly on the phone in your room. I heard you say, ‘conspired against by your own parents’…”

Ruan Qing sighed. “Oh, that’s what you meant. No, no need for that. Don’t overthink it. Here, people don’t talk about avenging fathers or exterminating entire families like in your era. There aren’t many who cry out for revenge. We have laws for everything.”

Nian Qi asked, “And does the law handle your situation?”

Ruan Qing said helplessly, “My situation doesn’t reach the level of legal intervention. It’s just a matter of feelings.”

In the dim light, she saw him sit up, knees bent, and question, “If it’s just about feelings, why are your parents involved, and why are they siding with the other party?”

This ancient man’s understanding of many things was disconnected from modern society, so it was important not to let him get the wrong idea. With the conversation at this point, sleep was clearly out of the question for a while. Ruan Qing sat up against the headboard and turned on the bedside lamp.

“You see, while society has progressed far beyond what it was in your time, some things haven’t changed,” Ruan Qing tried to explain. “For example, parents still want their children to marry and have children. This is especially true for parents of daughters. Once a girl reaches a certain age, her parents become anxious. If a man they believe is a good match wants to marry their daughter, they’ll go to great lengths to make it happen.”

In the past, arranged marriages without mutual consent were the norm. Parents dictated their children’s futures. But nowadays, women had education, independence, and didn’t rely on their parents for survival. They certainly weren’t as obedient to the traditional expectations of obedience and submission, especially someone as bold as Ruan Qing.

He asked, “Is the man not good? Do you not like him?” He needed to find out what disqualified the man in Ruan Qing’s eyes and make sure he avoided those traits.

To his surprise, Ruan Qing replied, “He’s quite good.”

Nian Qi was taken aback. She even added, “You could say he’s exceptional. Really, an outstanding person.”

A sense of crisis welled up in Nian Qi, and he cautiously asked, “How does he compare to Zhao Hao…?”

Ruan Qing rolled her eyes. “How can Zhao Hao compare? Zhao Hao’s just a boy. Besides being young and having a good physique, he can’t hold a candle to him.”

Nian Qi’s internal alarms blared. Keeping his composure, he pressed on, “If that’s the case, why did you choose Zhao Hao over him? Do you like Zhao Hao more?”

Ruan Qing said, “Zhao Hao and I are just fulfilling each other’s needs. There’s no real affection there.”

Nian Qi naturally followed up with, “So, do you like him?”

It seemed like a passing comment, but it was the most crucial question.

Ruan Qing fell silent for a moment. She leaned back, resting her head against the wall, and stared at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t say I don’t like him. If I didn’t, we wouldn’t have gotten as far as discussing marriage,” she admitted.

Wait—discussing marriage? So, it had come to that point? Thank goodness, she hadn’t married him. Nian Qi felt relieved.

Ruan Qing continued, “But if you’re talking about the kind of heartfelt affection that comes with being in love, then that’s different. Anyone who has truly loved someone knows the difference.”

Nian Qi understood, his expression shifting subtly, as if he had something more to say but hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” Ruan Qing said. “If you have something to say, just say it.” She disliked when people spoke hesitantly.

Cautiously, he asked, “That story… was it true?”

“Huh?” Ruan Qing was momentarily confused. “What story?”

“The story you just told me, the dramatic one,” Nian Qi stammered. “The story of the heir to the marquis’s household—was it real?”

That didn’t seem right either; in the story, the heroine gave birth to the child of the fake heir. Ruan Qing didn’t have any children. Not that it mattered to him, a fugitive wouldn’t mind raising another man’s child as his own…

Ruan Qing couldn’t help but laugh at how a modern person like her was outdone by an ancient man’s wild imagination. “What are you thinking?” she chuckled. “I told you, I wrote that story back in middle school!”

“What are you thinking? Tell me, how did you come up with such an idea?” she pressed him.

Nian Qi cleared his throat and said, “From what you mentioned earlier, it sounded like you once had mutual feelings for someone, but it wasn’t that person…”

Ruan Qing rolled her eyes dramatically. “Why? Do you think we’re living in ancient times? Arranged marriages without love, staying faithful to one partner for life?”

Nian Qi quickly defended himself, “Even in my time, widows could remarry.”

Look at that — in his eyes, even widows being allowed to remarry was considered highly “progressive.” Ruan Qing was left speechless.

Carefully, Nian Qi asked, “If it wasn’t the heir, then who was it?”

Ruan Qing shot him a sideways glance. Embarrassed, Nian Qi muttered, “If you don’t want to say, then don’t.”

“You’re quite the gossip for an assassin,” Ruan Qing teased. Then, after a moment, she added, “It’s not like it’s some big secret.”

“Here, things aren’t like your era, where love affairs are considered shameful. If you loved someone, you loved them. If you don’t love them anymore, then that’s that. It’s no big deal.”

“Especially for someone like me — not a great beauty, but at least a pretty girl. I’ve never lacked admirers, so of course I’ve had relationships.”

And every one of her relationships had been of decent quality. Even Zhao Hao, despite being a bit foolish, had a striking appearance and a strong physique. Ruan Qing appreciated the finer things in life.

“Yes, of course,” Nian Qi nodded earnestly. “From the TV shows I’ve watched, I can see that people don’t really care about parental orders or matchmakers anymore. Everyone finds their own partner and dates freely. Don’t worry, I’m not one of those old-fashioned moralists.”

As a professional assassin, Nian Qi had always been unconventional, even by ancient standards. His sense of ethics, morals, and logic differed greatly from that of ordinary people. So, if a conservative scholar from his era were to come to the present and witness modern relationships, they might be outraged. But Nian Qi adapted without issue, accepting new ideas and integrating smoothly.

This adaptability was what Ruan Qing appreciated most about him. He embraced new concepts and was willing to change.

Ruan Qing leaned back. “I’ve had two near-marriage experiences. Of course, neither worked out in the end.”

“The first was my college boyfriend. We were together all four years of university and nearly three years after graduation — a seven-year relationship.”

“Everything was perfect when we were in school.”

“He was the most handsome guy in our department. Here, we call the best-looking guys ‘grass’ and the best-looking girls ‘flowers.’ The department’s ‘grass’ and ‘flower’ are the most attractive people in that group. He was our department’s ‘grass.’”

Nian Qi seized the moment to interject with a smile, “Then you must have been the department’s ‘flower.’”

An assassin’s blade may be sharp, but his tongue could be just as sweet. Ruan Qing accepted the compliment, “You’re overestimating me. There were plenty of girls prettier than me. I didn’t get to be the department’s ‘flower,’ just the class ‘flower.’”

“At the time, the department’s ‘flower’ was chasing the ‘grass,’ but the ‘grass’ chased me. In the end, we ended up together.”

“Those four years in college — he was the perfect boyfriend, so devoted and caring. Everyone envied us.”

“Sigh, you might not understand this, but I don’t believe in love anymore. If you want to experience love, it has to be in a school setting. Only then, with a bit of luck, can you find truly simple and pure love.”

“Once you leave campus, it’s never the same again. When you step into society, even the perfect ‘ideal boyfriend’ façade starts to crack.”

“I’d been with him for seven years, thinking we were close to the finish line. But then, his former roommate sent me an audio clip.”

“This roommate had confessed to me before, but I turned him down. To keep things harmonious in their dorm, I never told my boyfriend about it, so he never knew his roommate had feelings for me.”

“The audio was a recording the roommate secretly made. After listening to it, the illusion of love I’d held onto shattered.”

In the recording, the campus heartthrob had had a few drinks, loosening his tongue. He started speaking recklessly.

“If I marry Ruan Qing, my whole family will finally move up the ladder and escape poverty.”
“Do you even know how well-off Ruan Qing’s family is? That house we’re living in now — you think we rented it? Fool, her family bought it for her back when she hadn’t even graduated college. A place by the third ring! Do you even get what that real estate’s worth?”
“I’ve been waiting for this day for so long!”
“Ever since I entered college, I knew her family was wealthy.”
“These years, I’ve swallowed my pride and played the role. Do you think that was easy?”
“She’s an only child. Soon, everything she has will be mine! Once we get the marriage certificate, I’m set!”

By then, three years had passed since graduation, and Ruan Qing’s career was thriving. The heartthrob proposed, and she agreed, thinking they just needed to introduce their families to finalize everything.

Never had she expected that once she peeled back the veil of love, the reality underneath would be so starkly self-serving.

She’d always thought of herself as rather low-key, never flaunting her family’s wealth—how naive she was. Looking back, some things are impossible to hide; having or lacking money shows itself in the smallest details of daily life.

Her family wasn’t ultra-wealthy, just small-town business owners. Yet, even the assets of small-town entrepreneurs far exceeded what the average urban white-collar worker could match. And her boyfriend, coming from a poor, small-town background, could certainly tell.