Chapter Sixty-Eight: I Promise You

Early the next morning, Su Bai had already washed and dressed, making his way toward the dining hall.

Thinking back on yesterday, Su Bai felt a pang of regret. He shouldn’t have confided everything to Gu Fanshuang. “That girl probably won’t recover from the shock any time soon. I shouldn’t have said so much. I should’ve just told her about Ni Hanyan and left it at that.”

As Su Bai was lost in his remorse, a pair of hands suddenly covered his eyes. His instincts told him to reach for the short dagger hidden in his sleeve, but the thin calluses on those hands made him relax his guard immediately.

“Guess who I am. If you get it right, I’ll treat you to breakfast,” came a voice from behind, trying its best to imitate Baxia’s raspy tone. But the difference in gender was obvious—a simple guess would see through the act. Still, since she was in a good mood, Su Bai had no intention of spoiling it.

Feigning confusion, he said, “Baxia? Since when did your hands get so dainty? And isn’t it a bit gross for two guys to do something like this?”

Gu Fanshuang burst out laughing, her eyes curving into crescent moons as she replied sweetly, “Are you stupid? Baxia’s hands look like this? The more you learn, the less sense you have.”

“Oh, and how do you know I’m not just pretending, waiting for you to admit it yourself?” Su Bai retorted stubbornly.

Gu Fanshuang let go, still chuckling. “Doesn’t matter. You guessed wrong, so breakfast is on you.”

“Alright, alright.” Su Bai turned to look into Gu Fanshuang’s bright eyes, a soft smile on his lips. “So, I suppose you’re not troubled by what happened?”

Her dark gaze met his strange purple eyes as she countered, “Did you ever even tell me anything?”

Looking into her clear eyes, Su Bai smiled faintly. “True, I never said a thing.”

Gu Fanshuang broke into a radiant smile, skipping ahead of him. Su Bai’s gaze followed her: the morning sun bathed the girl’s delicate figure, and the backlit glow lent her an ethereal quality.

“Stop staring off into space. Let’s go.” Gu Fanshuang shot him a glance and continued ahead.

Su Bai caught up. As they walked shoulder to shoulder, Gu Fanshuang suddenly whispered, “Thank you for telling me.”

“Hey, telling you didn’t really help. Now you’re less happy every day because of it. Maybe it would’ve been better to say nothing.” Su Bai turned to look at the girl beside him, and Gu Fanshuang turned her head too.

He went on, “But isn’t that just how life is? We all know how hard and painful it can be, yet we still love it just the same. I think you understand that too, don’t you?”

At this, Su Bai lowered his head, recalling the past—when his father fell gravely ill and he was forced to return home. He remembered that final call from Zhang Yuting:

“Su Bai, I know you’re in pain right now, and you won’t accept my help. But we’re all ordinary people. We can’t expect everything to go our way all the time. I hope you’ll remember: even when life is bitter and hard, you should love it all the same. Isn’t that what you always used to tell me?”

He had been so headstrong then. If only he hadn’t been, perhaps his father’s illness wouldn’t have worsened, and the tragedy could have been avoided.

He took a deep breath and blinked. When he looked back at Gu Fanshuang, he found her, for reasons unknown, crying her heart out.

“What’s wrong?” Su Bai took out an embroidered handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped the tears from her face.

Without any restraint, Gu Fanshuang threw herself into his arms, sobbing, “It’s nothing. I just remembered when my mother died seven years ago. I had to cross mountains in the snow, relying only on memory to find my third uncle’s place.”

Su Bai listened, holding the pitiful girl tight, her words stirring memories of his own hardships.

This time, he finally wrapped both arms around her, embracing her sincerely for the first time. His right hand gently patted her back. “We’re both children of misfortune. If we stick together, we’ll make it through.”

“You... you have to keep your word!” Gu Fanshuang choked out between sobs. “We must get through this together.”

“I promise,” Su Bai replied firmly.

Their embrace grew tighter, as if they were old friends reunited after years apart, letting out all their pent-up sorrow and grief.

It was a long while before Gu Fanshuang let go, her eyes rimmed red as she gazed at him, as if she wanted to etch his face into her memory forever.

“Enough staring,” Su Bai said awkwardly, flustered by her sudden intimacy, and scratched his nose in embarrassment.

But Gu Fanshuang, undeterred, continued to look at him with deep affection.

Su Bai could hardly bear the intensity of her gaze, but it felt wrong to push her away. So he reached out, gently stroked her hair, and said softly, “Alright, enough. You must be hungry. Shall we go eat?”

“Mm!” Tears once again welled in Gu Fanshuang’s eyes. She took Su Bai’s handkerchief and wiped her face, her brilliant smile returning—though the lingering traces of tears tugged at the heart.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Braised rabbit head!”

“Greasy food so early? Didn’t you complain about getting fat just the other day?”

“I don’t care! I want it!”

“Alright, alright, whatever you want.”

She giggled.

When they’d first enrolled, Su Bai and Gu Fanshuang had been almost the same height. Now he was nearly half a head taller than her. Gu Fanshuang’s features had matured since she was eleven or twelve, growing ever more graceful. With her innocent, carefree smile, the constant tension Su Bai carried finally eased.

He ordered a bowl of plain porridge and a small plate of pickles. Just as he was about to start eating, he noticed Gu Fanshuang across from him, her eyes fixed on him, her braised rabbit head untouched.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

As Su Bai spoke, Gu Fanshuang slowly opened her mouth and drew out her words, “Ah—” She pointed at the rabbit head, then at her own mouth, making her meaning clear.

“You...” Su Bai glanced around. Thankfully, the dining hall was nearly empty since they had lingered outside for so long.

Mouth still open, Gu Fanshuang beckoned impatiently for him to hurry.

Su Bai sighed, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today,” he muttered, picking up his chopsticks and feeding her the rabbit head.

But it was so large that Gu Fanshuang had to grasp it with her chopsticks and eat it slowly, her gaze never leaving Su Bai.

“Hold on!” Su Bai suddenly said, his expression grave, causing Gu Fanshuang to drop the half-eaten rabbit head in surprise.

“What is it?” she asked, putting down her chopsticks.

Su Bai placed his hand on her forehead, then on his own, muttering, “No fever. Then how did your brain get like this?”

“Ah! I’ll get you for that!” Gu Fanshuang launched another playful attack.

But this time, there was no wild chase—just soft laughter as the two wandered through every corner of Blood River Hall, except the forbidden areas, of course.

The day passed just like that. Whenever they grew hungry or thirsty, they picked wild fruit along the way. With the sect established here, there was no shortage of such things. Skipping lunch, they wandered and ate their fill of fruit.

Eventually, they arrived at the river where Su Bai had spent time three years ago.

Sitting beneath the waterfall, they watched the blood-red sunset reflecting off the cliff and cascade. The hundred-meter-high rainbow was no longer merely seven colors, but tinged with a “curtain of blood.”

By the riverbank, they chatted about amusing incidents from the past three years.

“I remember last time our teacher had to leave for a while, and Baxia and Xue Jiahuan started gossiping in the back. The teacher came back early and caught them red-handed—they were made examples of and got an earful. Especially Baxia, who got thoroughly roasted. I ended up brainstorming with him to fill out a five-thousand-word self-critique,” Su Bai recalled.

Gu Fanshuang giggled at the memory. “I helped Jiahuan with hers too. She promised to buy me lunch for half a month, but then tried to weasel out of it.”

“Hey! Baxia told me the same thing,” Su Bai exclaimed, slapping his thigh. “So those two schemed together—got us to do the work while they reaped the rewards.”

“I remember you had your own embarrassing story, didn’t you?” Gu Fanshuang teased him.

“Ahem.” Su Bai coughed, reluctant to speak of it.

“What, too ashamed?” Gu Fanshuang pressed, her tone mocking.

“Who’s ashamed? I’m not afraid of anything!” Su Bai stammered, trying to save face.

“Then tell the story, enough with the tough act.”

“Fine, I’ll tell it, who’s scared?” Su Bai said awkwardly. “I was discussing the monthly test with Baxia when that crazy Xue Jiahuan snatched the paper and ran straight into the men’s restroom.”

At this point, Gu Fanshuang couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Even Su Bai, telling the story, had a hard time keeping a straight face.

“I didn’t think much of it. I figured she’d just gone into the wrong bathroom. But she’d switched the signs beforehand. So I walked right in and saw half a dozen girls who had just finished up. I spent the whole afternoon getting lectured, and it took ages to clear up the misunderstanding. In the end, I still had to write a three-thousand-word apology.”

Remembering that humiliating scene, Su Bai felt thoroughly uncomfortable.

Just then, Gu Fanshuang gave Su Bai a mysterious look. “Don’t you want to know why the restroom sign was switched back when you came out?”

“It was you?!” Su Bai suddenly realized. “No wonder you were trying so hard not to laugh. You were the mastermind!”

“Hey! Watch your mouth,” Gu Fanshuang said, trying to keep a straight face despite her laughter. “I just happened to pass by and saw the sign was wrong. I switched it back so others wouldn’t go into the wrong one. Don’t accuse an upstanding citizen like me.”

“Yeah, right!” Su Bai scoffed. “Accomplice! No wonder you blushed every time you saw me back then. You must have been so pleased with your handiwork.”

Gu Fanshuang finally lost control and laughed out loud. “You have no idea how funny you looked, reading your self-critique. I almost couldn’t hold it in.”

So they joked and played, oblivious to the falling night.

At last, under the moonlight, they returned to their respective dormitories.

When Su Bai slipped in late, Baxia eyed him curiously. “Where did you go? Your clothes are soaked—were you sneaking out to have fun without me? That’s not very brotherly!”

He went on in mock indignation, “People nowadays, honestly. We’re supposed to share good fortune and hardship, but you went off by yourself.”

Su Bai nearly gagged at Baxia’s shameless performance. “Can you not put on that face? Someone might mistake you for the class clown.”

“Wait a minute,” Baxia suddenly remembered. “Old Xue told me she couldn’t find Gu Fanshuang today. Don’t tell me...”

His gaze grew lewd. “You two... heh heh heh.”

“???” Su Bai was speechless—Baxia’s mind was as convoluted as a tabloid reporter’s. Next day, he’d probably say: “Shocking! Two underage students from Blood River Hall return to their dorms late at night—the heartwarming truth revealed.”

“Think whatever you like. I have a clear conscience.”

“Oh, please. As if you’re so upright. Want me to bring up the girls’ restroom incident again?”

“Shut up!” Su Bai, having endured this humiliation twice in one day, finally snapped. “Come here, you!”

With that, he and Baxia engaged in a round of friendly sparring.

In less than half a cup of tea’s time, Baxia was lying flat, begging for mercy. “I yield, I yield! You really are a freak—how have you improved so much lately?”

Meanwhile, Gu Fanshuang was undergoing her own interrogation from Xue Jiahuan.

Jiahuan propped her right foot on the bench next to Gu Fanshuang, her right elbow resting atop it. Her gaze was sharp, her tone brooking no argument. “Out with it. Where’ve you been all day?”

Normally, Gu Fanshuang would have met such questioning with a cold silence. But this time, Jiahuan noticed a “brand new version” of her: Gu Fanshuang’s eyes were dreamy, as if lost in memory, a blush coloring her cheeks, her bashfulness completely upending Jiahuan’s impression of her.

“What on earth is this?” Jiahuan wondered aloud, pressing her forehead to Gu Fanshuang’s. She mumbled, “No fever... Could she be lovesick?”

“What are you talking about? Don’t be ridiculous.” Gu Fanshuang snapped out of her trance and objected.

“Usually, you’d spend the day training in the dorm. But Baxia told me Su Bai was missing today too. Don’t tell me you two... heh heh heh.”

Faced with Jiahuan’s gossipy look, Gu Fanshuang couldn’t muster Su Bai’s careless bravado. She simply turned away in silence.

“Su Bai’s actually a good choice,” Jiahuan mused. “He’s not much to look at, but his knowledge and martial skills are top-notch.”

Hearing this, Gu Fanshuang smiled sweetly, as if the praise were aimed at herself.

Seeing that, Jiahuan was certain of her guess. “See! I knew it.”

Realizing she’d been found out, Gu Fanshuang covered her face and dove under the covers, ending the conversation.

Lying there, she whispered to herself, “This time, let’s not let go again.”