Ink Burns

Chapter 306 Blue and Purple (Part 1)

Suddenly, a heavy thud was heard from the next private room.

Shan Yue lowered her eyes slightly.

Cui Yulang's attention was drawn to her, and he glanced to the side. Before he could even think, Shan Yue asked as he expected, "Then where did the fetus in her belly come from? A princess of such high status, does she really need to fake a pregnancy to win favor?"

Cui Yulang snapped out of his daze and saw that Shan Yue had indeed reacted to what he had just said, and immediately forgot about the strange behavior of the neighbors.

Only two people in the world know about the affair between the lame servant and Fu Mingjiang. When Fu Mingjiang gives birth, he will use this affair to drive her to the brink of collapse, illness, and death. At that time, only one person in the world will know about this affair.

As for the illegitimate child that was born.

With so many infants' lives on his hands, what is there to fear about taking one more?
Now that he has reunited with Shan Yue, he certainly doesn't mind having one more person know, as a way of showing his natural loyalty.

"It is a seed of wood."

Cui Yulang answered in a low voice.

Shan Yue's eyes flickered slightly, and she frowned as she asked, "Mu Sheng? That cripple next to you?!"

Cui Yulang smiled, raised his eyebrows and nodded, his eyes flashing with a burning, obsessive light: he didn't think there was anything shameful about this. He didn't love Fu Mingjiang, and he had no imagination or desire for her. But he couldn't let Fu Mingjiang find out, so he arranged for his confidant to "help" her and give her another child. It was a gesture of pity, a humiliation, and a form of revenge.

She wanted revenge on Fu Mingjiang for forcing him to marry her by taking advantage of her power; she wanted revenge on Fu Mingjiang for the unconscious superiority she exuded when she spoke, as if she were standing on a step looking down on him; she wanted revenge on Fu Mingjiang for having a good mother who was willing and devoted to supporting her.
Cui Yulang spread his arms wide, his exposed shoulder blades like the bulging neck of a venomous snake, scales standing on end, glands oozing a wet, threatening aura—he didn't need to feign ruthlessness in front of Shan Yue, just as he was certain that Shan Yue was the same kind of person as him at heart. Although he didn't know how Shan Yue wanted to take revenge on Fu Mingjiang, he was willing to use Fu Mingjiang's pain and humiliation to please Shan Yue.

"It was him. On their wedding night, to deceive Fu Mingjiang, he needed to use drugs and smoke cigarettes. Night after night, again and again, until later, without any external force, Fu Mingjiang willingly succumbed to the pleasures of that ugly and lame lowly servant."

Cui Yulang laughed, his laughter filled with joy and anticipation: "In the dark of night, with the red candles burning warmly, if Fu Mingjiang knew that the person holding her, caressing her, kissing her, and whispering sweet nothings in her ear was the same lowly wretch she wouldn't even bother to glance at—what color would her pretty face be?"

Shan Yue raised her eyes slightly, a gentle smile playing on her lips: "You're such a bastard."

Cui Yulang laughed heartily.

When people live with masks on for too long, their true faces and skin underneath become ruined and rotten. Only they can smell the stench of the pus flowing from the decaying flesh.

Now that the mask has finally been removed, it's like a corpse that has been suffocating in the sweltering heat of summer finally bursting out of its coffin, with all those maggots and flies buzzing out. Instead of feeling stifled, Cui Yulang feels a sense of relief!

"I am a lowly wretch." Cui Yulang pleaded with Shan Yue, "If you call me a lowly wretch, then I am a lowly wretch; if you call me a dead man, then I lie in my coffin. Shan Yue, only in your presence do I seem less lowly, less pathetic."

His revenge, like a venomous snake, silently slipped in through cracks in the rocks and gaps in the door, biting the person.

Shan Yue's revenge was like a python, its strong muscles and bones tightening little by little, tearing and crushing the flesh and bones of its enemy.
He was nothing more than a pheasant neck that couldn't see the light of day, forced to hide in the shadows; Shan Yue, on the other hand, was a serpent about to ascend to the heavens and become a dragon, sitting on the ground, its proud scales gleaming in the sunlight.

Cui Yulang murmured in fascination.

Suddenly, a fresh and strong smell of blood filled the air, along with the faint, suppressed moans of a woman in pain.

Shan Yue calmly glanced to the side.

Cui Yulang followed Shan Yue's movements and looked over. A moment later, he suddenly woke up as if from a dream. He lifted the corner of Douqing's robe, pushed open the door, turned around and went to the adjacent private room. With a "bang", he pushed open the door and saw Fu Mingjiang, who was six months pregnant, curled up in a corner in a sorry state. There was a sticky mess under her, with amniotic fluid mixed with blood flowing all over the floor.

The door was pushed open, and Fu Mingjiang, enduring the pain, screamed in terror, "Close the door! Close the door! I'm not here! I'm not here!"

As long as she doesn't know, this never happened!
As long as she doesn't know, Yulang will still treat her the same way as before!

she does not know!

she does not know!

As long as she doesn't know, this child, this child is Yulang's, and no one can say for sure!
Fu Mingjiang gasped for breath, a sharp, stabbing pain shooting through her lower abdomen like waves at high tide, one after another. Her face contorted and fractured with each new contraction, turning into short, broken gasps.

It felt as if a pair of merciless hands were twisting her body from within, trying to tear out her internal organs along with her unborn child. Pain overwhelmed her, but the overwhelming despair pierced her more sharply than the contractions themselves.

Fu Mingjiang arched her body in pain, her fingernails digging deep into the ground, tears and sweat dripping down her face, mingling with the ever-expanding wet patch beneath her.

Fu Mingjiang looked up, suppressing her sobs, determined not to let anyone else hear.

Through her tear-filled eyes, she looked at her husband outside the door and pleaded with him, "Please, close the door."

Cui Yulang's robe was soaked with a sticky liquid, and he looked around warily.

Apart from the serene Shan Yue, there was no one else around.

Shan Yue's brows remained unmoved as she looked at Zhou Fangniang, who was supporting Fu Mingjiang.

Zhou Fangniang, her face deathly pale, let go of the door and rushed out, running towards Shan Yue's side.

Cui Yulang stepped inside, closed the door, and once only the two of them were inside, he immediately bent down, his brows furrowed, and covered Fu Mingjiang's mouth and nose with one hand: "Shut up. Shut up!"

Fu Mingjiang collapsed to the ground, legs spread apart, his whole body like a dried fish pulled out of slurry, salty, sticky, stiff, and rotten.

Her tears, like worthless well water, welled up from the cracks in the rocks, greedily swallowed by the dirty, muddy sand.

She frantically reached out to grab Cui Yulang's hand, but as soon as her fingers touched the back of his hand, he recoiled as if he had touched a hot stone.

"Yulang—" Fu Mingjiang gasped for breath, her head resting against the table leg of this cheap tavern's private room.

The belly bulges high and changes shape.

She's about to give birth.

She resisted the arrival of the child with all her might: she wouldn't give birth, she didn't want to give birth to this bastard.

Cui Yulang felt a moment of panic when he saw Fu Mingjiang, but now he understood and everything made sense: this was Shan Yue's revenge on Fu Mingjiang, pushing him step by step to the brink of despair, and then using him as a dagger to pierce Fu Mingjiang.

He accurately predicted his ruthlessness, Zhou Fangniang's pent-up resentment, and Fu Mingjiang's vulnerability. In the end, he accomplished his mission and left without seeking credit or fame. His insight into people's hearts and his exquisite strategies are truly admirable.

Thinking of this, Cui Yulang's lips curled into a restrained smile. "Yulang—Yulang—" Fu Mingjiang cried out mournfully, her body feeling as if it had been ripped open by a blade, a bastard child eagerly trying to emerge.

You shouldn't have called me that.

Cui Yulang's smile gradually widened: "You should be called Musheng, because when you give birth, the biological father should be by your side—Musheng—Musheng—"

Cui Yulang turned around and called out loudly.

Fu Mingjiang gritted her teeth, gathered her strength to prop herself up, and tried to stop him.

Before long, the sound of running footsteps, sometimes deep and sometimes shallow, came from the porch. The door was pushed open, and the buck-toothed, lame servant was nearly scared out of his wits when he saw the scene in the inner room. He hurriedly turned around to fetch the midwife and the doctor!

"Wood grows!"

He was stopped by Cui Yulang's stern shout: "Come in!"

"No—no—no!" Fu Mingjiang shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her face. "No! Get out! Get out of here!"

"Come in—" Cui Yulang raised his voice, then suddenly lowered it: "She's about to give birth, don't you want to be with her?"

The lame man froze on the spot, as if bewitched, and walked step by step to Fu Mingjiang's side. Following Cui Yulang's instructions, he slowly squatted down, trembling as he reached out and tentatively grasped Fu Mingjiang's hand hanging by her side.

The cripple was short and thin, with a mouthful of yellow and smelly buck teeth, yet her face showed tenderness and urgency; while her husband beside her, handsome and refined, like a lotus standing alone in the world, looked indifferently and amusedly at the window frame to one side.

A surge of urgent heat welled up between Fu Mingjiang's legs again. She couldn't resist it and unconsciously exerted force. The heat slid out of her body in a strange way!

Fu Mingjiang's hand was still held in the lame man's palm.

She tilted her head back, and tears streamed down her face, mingling with blood and amniotic fluid, emitting a scalding stench like the rotting flesh beneath Cui Yulang's mask.

She let out a sharp and mournful cry: "No—no!"

In the next room, Zhou Fangniang covered her chest with both hands, staring in fear at the white wall with the painting hanging on it.

Shan Yue finally picked up the cold teacup on the side table.

Shan Yue gently pinched the tea lid between her index and middle fingers, lowered her eyes slightly, and her long but flat eyelashes drooped above her thin eyelids, forming a shadowy arc of light.

She didn't avoid the foam and tea leaves, took a light sip, and then slowly lowered the lid of the teapot.

With a forceful swing of his long, slender wrist, it was like slashing down a guillotine.

"...Will she...will she die?" Zhou Fangniang asked anxiously.

Shan Yue slowly shook her head: "I hope she lives."

Death is an extremely simple spell; when a person dies, all debts are wiped away. If Fu Ming and Jiang Ruo are dead, how can they still feel this excruciating pain?
"What about that child?" Zhou Fangniang swallowed hard.

Shan Yue's voice was very soft: "Perhaps, it will be difficult to survive."

It's already a miracle that a baby can survive being born after being confined in its mother's womb for so long.

"Wow—Wow—Ah—"

A clear baby's cry rang out from the adjacent private room.

Zhou Fangniang's face lit up with joy: "Alive—"

Shan Yue said softly, "If we were alive, how could we possibly escape Cui Yulang's vicious clutches?"

Or is it Fu Mingjiang's madness after waking up?

How could Fu Mingjiang allow her "bastard" to live on in this world?

Zhou Fangniang must have also considered the second possibility, and her expression gradually darkened: "...Was it us? Did we kill this infant?"

"No."

Shan Yue remained remarkably calm: "It was the sins committed by its closest relatives. Sins must be repaid, and this will never change. What does it have to do with us? Why should we throw mud at ourselves?"

Throughout her revenge, whether it was cutting off Cheng Xingju's tongue with her own hands or forcing Jing'an to jump into the sea step by step, she has never had a moment of self-examination or self-destruction. She has always remained calm and composed.

"We are just the waves that are being pushed along."

Shan Yue slowly stood up, pushed open the door, and stepped outside: "The real killer is the wicked ghost."

Shan Yue gathered her skirt, slightly raised her chin, and slowly walked out of the neighboring private room, which was filled with a fishy, ​​salty smell.

The continuous swastika pattern on the window lattice, like a fleeting glimpse of a play, gradually fades into the distance behind us.

Perhaps Cui Yulang was right when he said something: they are ruthless and vicious fellow travelers, like snakes, spitting out their tongues with a vengeful intent, willing to travel thousands of miles to pursue and avenge their enemies.

Shan Yue turned and went downstairs.

Deep in the alley, an old elmwood carriage waits quietly, its simple body hidden in the dim night.

But there is one difference.

There was always one person standing beside her.

That person harbored a light in their heart that contradicted the dark night—a righteous spirit rooted in their very bones, a benevolent heart that remained untainted by the dust of the world.

Xue Xiao stood silently in the shadow of the horse scaffold, like a silent dam, stopping and straightening her when she strayed or went astray.