Chapter 652 - 669: Is His Mouth Just for Show?

Chapter 652: Chapter 669: Is His Mouth Just for Show?

Inside the cave, the flickering firelight cast Roger’s pale, lifeless face in stark clarity.

The expression that had always held calculation or obsession was now replaced by a dead calm.

Bai Wanwan’s gaze lingered on that face for a long time.

After the chaos of their escape and the terror brought by the Beast God had subsided somewhat, a more complex emotion, like a quiet tide, slowly washed over her heart.

She looked at his bloodless skin, his tightly shut eyes, and the faint curve of his lips, which seemed to hold the last vestiges of worry and unwillingness to concede...

’He was really gone.’

That realization, like a stone tossed into the lake of her heart, created layer upon layer of indescribable ripples.

The memories that had once disgusted her surged forth, uncontrollable.

His forceful abduction, his obsessive entanglement, his unscrupulous scheming, and those eyes, always burning with a possessiveness that made her feel suffocated and repulsed...

The images were still clear, but looking back on them now, the intense disgust—so strong it had felt almost tangible—seemed to have been quietly diluted, washed away by something.

It was like a scroll painted in heavy, gloomy colors, suddenly splashed with a stroke of paleness called "death."

All the intensity, all the entanglement, all the love and hate—before this absolute paleness, everything lost its vivid color, becoming blurred and... insignificant.

A person’s death is like a lamp going out.

All the past grudges and grievances seemed to have turned into smoke with the extinguishing of this "lamp," fated to dissipate into nothingness.

She would no longer feel anger, distress, or fear because of him.

The male named Roger, who had stirred up considerable turmoil in her life—his story had come to an abrupt end.

A hollow, somewhat melancholic calm replaced the earlier shock and complexity.

She couldn’t tell if it was forgiveness or acceptance.

Perhaps it was just a primal reaction to the passing of a life, a recognition that all turmoil must eventually return to silence.

She gently averted her gaze, no longer looking at him.

Whatever he had been in the past, in the end, he had used his life to buy her a chance at survival. That was an undeniable and indelible fact.

Jinying worked in silence. He carefully checked the camouflage they had set up at the cave entrance, making sure it was foolproof.

Only then did he walk over to Bai Wanwan. His movements were slightly stiff, yet resolute, as he took off his own relatively intact outer robe and gently draped it over her shoulders.

The garment, carrying his body heat, wrapped around her slightly chilled frame. Bai Wanwan noticed but didn’t look up, merely whispering, "Thank you."

Jinying’s (Fu Jinsen’s) throat tightened.

’You never have to thank me,’ he wanted to say, but he knew he could never say those words.

He could only manage a low "Mm" and sat down a short distance from her, maintaining a gap that wasn’t oppressive but still allowed him to protect her at a moment’s notice.

He took out his waterskin, uncorked it, and held it out to her. "Have some water." His voice was deliberately kept steady.

Bai Wanwan finally looked up, took the waterskin, and drank in small sips.

In the firelight, her face was a little pale. She was silent, lost in thought.

Jinying’s gaze fell uncontrollably on her face. His stare was so focused and profound it nearly pierced through his "Jinying" facade, revealing the tenderness and possessiveness of another soul.

Bai Wanwan finished drinking and handed the waterskin back to him.

The moment she looked up and their eyes met, she couldn’t help but freeze for a second.

’That look... it was too complex.’

There was concern and worry, but deep down, an intense, indecipherable emotion seemed to be churning—one that made her heart skip a beat with a strange familiarity.

"You should rest too. Today... thank you for everything," Bai Wanwan said softly, looking away.

Jinying didn’t answer. Instead, he got up and walked to the fire.

He took out some jerky wrapped in clean leaves, carefully skewered it on a branch, and began to slowly roast it over the flames.

His movements as he turned the jerky were practiced, but there were occasional, subtle pauses, or little habits for adjusting the heat—like quickly testing the tenderness of the meat’s edge with his fingertips, rather than just flipping it over roughly like most Beastmen.

His focused expression, the way he would sometimes purse his lips and furrow his brow...

Bai Wanwan found her gaze unconsciously following his movements.

These subtle details began to overlap, bit by bit, with the silhouette of someone she had deliberately buried in her memories...

Jinying keenly sensed her stare, and his heart suddenly hammered out of rhythm, like a drum.

He could almost hear the blood rushing in his veins.

Forcing himself to remain calm, he handed her the jerky, now fragrant and roasted to a perfect crisp-on-the-outside, tender-on-the-inside state. His voice held a barely perceptible tension. "What are you looking at? Eat something. You need to get your strength back."

Bai Wanwan took the jerky but didn’t eat it right away. Instead, she looked at him, her gaze a little distant, and said softly, "Seeing some of your habits... they remind me of... an old acquaintance."

"An old acquaintance?" Jinying’s (Fu Jinsen’s) heart sank. He asked the follow-up question almost subconsciously, his voice laced with an urgency and... a hint of fear that he himself didn’t notice.

"Is it... someone you hate?" He held his breath, awaiting her judgment.

Bai Wanwan was silent for a moment, then shook her head. Her tone was tinged with the indifference that comes with time. "It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t hate him."

Those words, "I don’t hate him," were like a needle that pierced the panic building in Fu Jinsen’s heart, only to let a deeper despair seep in.

’Doesn’t matter?’

’He would rather she hated him. At least that would mean there was still a strong emotion, that she would always remember him.’

He couldn’t help himself. As if torturing himself, he clung to a final, faint sliver of hope and asked in a trembling voice, "Then, was he a... male you loved?"

Bai Wanwan seemed taken aback by the direct question. She looked up at him, her brow furrowing slightly, before giving a decisive denial. "I didn’t."

Those two words, like an Ice Cone, pierced Fu Jinsen’s very soul.

He felt as if an invisible hand had viciously squeezed his heart, halting his breath. An icy chill spread from his core to his limbs, threatening to freeze him solid.

’So, in her heart, he didn’t even qualify as someone she had ’once loved’?’

’He couldn’t accept it!’

"What if... he had his reasons?" he blurted out, his voice thick with an irrepressible pain and struggle.

Bai Wanwan’s brow furrowed even more. She found Jinying’s attitude a little strange.

She hadn’t intended to bring him up, but the matter had been weighing on her heart, something she had never confided to anyone.

Now that Jinying had mentioned it, it was like lancing a boil. Her expression grew impatient and cold. "Reasons? I don’t think it counts as ’reasons’ if you have a mouth."

’It wasn’t for a day or two, but for a whole six months.’

’Was his mouth just for show? If he had his reasons, why didn’t he say anything for half a year?’