Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Shave Your Hair, Cut Off Love!

Song Wan Ning wanted to ask: how had she, Song Wan Ning, ever wronged Gu Qing Yuan?

If he no longer loved her, it hurt—but given time, she could have accepted it.

What she could never accept was that, in the end, Gu Qing Yuan had stood beside those people and trampled the entire Song Family into the dirt.

Gu Qing Yuan had come from a village, entered the Heaven-Questioning Sect with rare talent, and risen without background or connections. He had suffered for it.

It was Song Wan Ning’s parents who pitied him—an orphaned youth struggling alone. Whenever they prepared supplies for her, they always added an extra share for him.

Later, when they learned she had feelings for him, they treated him like a son.

So where, exactly, had the Song Family wronged him?

Why had he repaid them like that?

Song Wan Ning hated him.

She wanted to tear him apart with her bare hands.

But death was the easiest escape. What she wanted was for them to taste her pain—then go mad and die.

“Shut up!”

Gu Qing Yuan’s hand tightened around his sword. The arm he was forcing into stillness trembled anyway, betraying him.

“Chu Xue is the purest, most wonderful woman in the world,” he snapped, eyes burning. “She’s not selfish and maliciously jealous like you.”

“She would never harm a fellow disciple. And she has never interfered in our relationship!”

His voice sharpened. “If you insult her again, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

Song Wan Ning stared at him and felt something cold settle deep in her bones.

Back then, she really had been blind.

Gu Qing Yuan had never protected her like this.

Maybe he hadn’t changed his heart.

Maybe he had never loved her at all.

“Never?” she said softly. Then her mouth curved with mockery. “So from the very beginning, you came close to me for the Song Family’s background?”

She stepped forward. The edge in her gaze forced Gu Qing Yuan to look away.

“You planned everything. You lured me into falling for you. You even took the initiative to propose an engagement—all for the Song Family behind me, wasn’t it?”

Her smile turned cruel. “Who would’ve thought the radiant True Lord Gu could do something so filthy?”

“I didn’t!” Gu Qing Yuan frowned, but he couldn’t help defending himself. “I didn’t understand love back then. I thought my affection for you was love, so I sincerely asked to marry you!”

He had never coveted the Song Family’s things.

“Oh?” Song Wan Ning’s laughter was thin. “So when you met Ye Chu Xue, you suddenly understood love?”

Her eyes iced over.

Ye Chu Xue had been only five when she entered the sect.

To Gu Qing Yuan, she was a child he had watched grow up—his disciple.

To desire his own disciple was terrifying.

Disgusting.

Song Wan Ning turned, voice ringing clearly. “Sect Master. Elders. You all heard him, didn’t you?”

She lifted her chin. “I, Song Wan Ning, have never wronged Gu Qing Yuan. It was Gu Qing Yuan who fell for someone else. It was Gu Qing Yuan who wronged me.”

“Let today be your witness.”

She drew a breath—and every word came out clean and final.

“I, Song Wan Ning, formally break off my engagement with Gu Qing Yuan.”

“From now on, he walks his narrow bridge—and I walk my open road.”

She drew her sword.

With one decisive slash, she cut through the ends of her hair.

A section drifted down in slow silence and fell into the dust.

Like everything in the past—never to rise again.

Song Wan Ning cut her hair to sever her feelings and dissolved the engagement with Gu Qing Yuan.

“Junior Sister Song, don’t be impulsive!” the Sect Master blurted, stepping forward.

In only a short time, they had been hit with shock after shock.

Song Wan Ning had loved Gu Qing Yuan to the bone. How could she be the one to end it?

Around them, disciples stared, wide-eyed. Those who had been quietly betting earlier went numb, as if someone had overturned the board right in front of them.

Gu Qing Yuan’s eyes narrowed. His fingers turned white around the sword hilt.

Song Wan Ning…

“Have you thought this through?” he asked, lips pressed into a hard line—as if he were offering her mercy. “If you regret it now, it’s not too late.”

As long as Song Wan Ning bowed her head, apologized, and cured Chu Xue, he could accept the engagement again.

He could marry her.

He stood there rigid, as if he were making some great sacrifice.

It made Song Wan Ning want to vomit.

“I’ve thought it through,” she said. “Gu Qing Yuan. Our engagement is over.”

All that love had been built on rot. She didn’t want it anymore.

“You—”

Gu Qing Yuan froze.

She really meant it.

“Junior Sister Song,” the Sect Master tried again, voice tight. “We can discuss this slowly. You’ve been together for so many years—there’s no need to take it this far.”

One elder chimed in, eager to smooth it over. “Yes, yes. Junior Brother Gu was confused earlier. And he and Ye Chu Xue absolutely can’t be together, so you don’t need to—”

“No need?” Song Wan Ning actually laughed.

Her smile flashed, mocking and bright. “Fine. Then I hope your descendants for eighteen generations all run into this kind of ‘no need.'”

“Junior Sister Song, you—!” The elders flushed with anger. “We’re doing this for your sake. How can you be so ungrateful?”

“You’re shouting about breaking off the engagement now, and later you’ll be shouting about making up again…”

“How can you curse us like that?”

Song Wan Ning shot them a slanting look. “Then shut up.”

Her voice dropped, flat and sharp. “My business isn’t for others to point fingers at.”

The elders went livid—but no one spoke again.

This wasn’t theirs to decide.

“Song Wan Ning,” Gu Qing Yuan said, voice dark, “don’t regret it.”

He swore it silently to himself. No matter what games she was playing, he would never give her another chance to reconcile.

“Only a bastard would regret it,” Song Wan Ning said coolly.

She turned, about to leave.

Gu Qing Yuan’s eyes flashed. Panic and rage twisted together. He slashed out with his sword.

“Leave the antidote!”

The sword light shot straight toward her, heavy with killing intent. Space locked down in an instant, the air itself tightening like a net.

Song Wan Ning lifted her head.

Murder flickered in her eyes.

She drew her sword and met him head-on.

Their blades collided in midair. Killing intent froze the air, and a wild wind rose as if it sensed the slaughter about to erupt.

“Not good!” the Sect Master shouted, turning and snapping at the disciples. “Retreat—now!”

The crowd scattered in a rush, not daring to linger.

“Junior Sister Song! Junior Brother Gu!” the Sect Master yelled up at them. “Stop it! Come down right now!”

“What are you two doing?!” someone cried, frantic.

No matter who got hurt, it would be a disaster.

Song Wan Ning’s gaze was cold as frost, empty of warmth.

“Gu Qing Yuan,” she said, voice carrying cleanly, “the one in your heart is about to die.”

“If I don’t act, she’ll die for sure.”

A wicked curve touched her lips, crushing the last trace of hesitation in Gu Qing Yuan’s heart.

His eyes turned to mountain-peak ice.

He struck first.

His hands formed seals in a blur. His natal flying sword—”Red Hare”—shot from its sheath, blade humming as it became a streak of light that stabbed straight at Song Wan Ning.