Chapter 269. The Weight of Time

The others came and went.

Song Meiyu wept until her face turned red, then wept some more. He Yuying stood in silence for hours, dried plum forgotten in his hand. Shen Zhenyu brought medicine he didn’t know how to use. Master Tian Mo left strange talismans by the window, muttering about protection. Prince Lu paced like a restless shadow, steps heavy with helplessness.

None of it mattered. Nothing changed.

She didn’t wake. She didn’t move. She didn’t respond. So Shu Mingye stayed. Always. And when the silence grew too sharp, he spoke. His voice was low, rough, and quiet. Each word careful, like he was afraid one wrong sound would shatter what little remained. He spoke her name. He told her stories. He pleaded. He threatened. He whispered promises into her hair. And sometimes, he teased. His humor was thin and brittle, but it was all he had left to keep her here.

“Pie… if you don’t wake up soon, I’ll eat all the moon dumplings myself. Every last one. No sharing.”

He stroked her hair, brushing strands from her cold face. “You said you’d marry me. You’re not allowed to break promises, remember? You break another one, I’ll… haunt you even if you’re a ghost.”

His thumb traced her cheek, soft and trembling. “Pie…” he whispered, eyes locked on her pale lips. “I haven’t asked for my compensation yet, remember? And you still haven’t paid the repair fee for the palace wall you broke. Repairs are expensive, you know.”

A quiet breath left him. A small, hollow chuckle escaped his throat. “I haven’t held you enough. I haven’t hugged you enough.” His voice faltered. “I haven’t loved you enough. Not even close.”

He lowered his head, his lips brushing her hairline. “Wake up, Pie,” he whispered, the words cracking in his throat. “I’m not done yet. Don’t you dare leave me before I’ve had enough.”

She didn’t answer. She only breathed. Shallow and thin. Like a single thread holding her to the world.

Two weeks passed like that. And his Pie… still lay in his arms. Her breathing faint. Her body colder than before. Her skin pale as snow. Her lips, once soft and pink, now dry and cracked. She looked like a ghost sleeping. But not gone. Not yet. Every time she stirred, blood spilled from her mouth. Her body shuddered as if it was still fighting, still struggling. But she never opened her eyes. Never looked at him. Never called his name again.

And Shu Mingye, he was breaking. Bit by bit, quietly, painfully, hopelessly… he was breaking. His world, once full of purpose and fury, slowly collapsed. Because she was his purpose now. She was his joy. His light. The warmth in his dark, cold life. And she was slipping away. Right in his arms.

He begged without speaking. He prayed without knowing how. He stared at her face like he could will her to open her eyes. Like he could will her to smile. To scold him. To call him again with that calm, stubborn voice of hers.

Master Yin Xue had already tried everything. Needles, medicine, talismans, everything. Nothing worked.

“Her spiritual energy won’t stabilize,” she said once, voice tight with frustration. “Something inside her is broken. Or maybe she gave too much of herself away.”

Shu Mingye said nothing. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he might scream. So instead, he kept talking to her. He told her about the sunrise. About the birds outside the pavilion. About how ugly Prince Lu’s robe looked this morning, so ugly it nearly blinded him. About how He Yuying still refused to brush his hair.

He told her stories. Secrets. Memories. His fears. His hopes. Anything and everything. He just wanted her to hear him. Just once. Just open her eyes. Just say something. Tease him. Hit him. Scold him. Anything. But she didn’t. And the thought that he might really lose her… that this might be the end… it was unbearable. Just when he had finally found her. Just when she had become his happiness. His world. His everything. Why? Why her? Why now? Was this really hopeless? Was he really going to lose her?

Shu Mingye bit his tongue hard, the taste of blood sharp in his mouth. He didn’t want to cry. He never cried. He was the Demon King. People feared him. He was strong. But the tears came anyway, falling hot and endless. He didn’t even remember the last time he cried. Yet now he couldn’t stop.

The pain never stopped. It stabbed through her bones. Burned through her skin. Crushed her chest until every breath felt like swallowing blades.

Linyue didn’t know how long it had been. She couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Only pain. Every time she woke up, it was still there. Waiting, unkind and unending. She was tired. So, so tired. Sometimes, she wanted it to end. To let go and sink into the dark where nothing hurt anymore. But every time the thought crept close, she heard him. That familiar voice. Warm. Steady. Maddeningly stubborn. Calling her name again and again.

And his hand. Holding hers. Stroking her hair. Resting gently against her cold cheek. Even when she couldn’t answer, even when her eyes stayed shut, she felt it. Felt him. He hadn’t left. He never left. So she tried. Tried to hold on. For him. Only for him. But it hurt. It hurt so much. Her chest tightened again. Her throat felt thick and burning. She coughed once. Twice. Then harder. Her body shook with it. Blood filled her mouth, bitter and metallic. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard him.

“Pie, don’t leave me.”

His voice. Shaky. Cracked. That voice—usually bold, smug, teasing her about pastries or stealing her attention—was trembling. Afraid. Broken. He was scared.

Her heart twisted. She wanted to answer him. To tell him she was still here. That she hadn’t left. That she wouldn’t. So she pushed. Through the fog. Through the weight. Through the endless pain.

Her lips moved. Dry. Barely a whisper. “…Mingye.”

Then his voice came. Desperate, trembling, filled with both fear and relief. “Pie! I’m here. I’m always here. By your side. Just like I promised.”

Yes… she remembered. He had promised her. That he would never leave. That he would stay with her no matter what. She wanted to smile. But her body was too weak. Her heart too tired. Her voice cracked as she forced one more word out. Just one.

“...Sorry.”

Those quiet, broken words made the world fall silent.

Shu Mingye froze. His breath caught in his throat. The faint smile that had started to grow when she called his name… vanished.

Sorry? For what?

She had spoken. She had called for him. For one fragile moment he had dared to hope. He thought maybe she was finally getting better. That the storm had passed. But then she said sorry. His hands shook as he wiped the blood from her lips. It smeared across his fingers, bright and hot, and no matter how gently he wiped it away, it kept coming. It wouldn’t stop. It was like her body itself was trying to vanish from his arms.

“No,” he whispered.

He pulled her closer, cradling her head against his chest, pressing her cheek over his heart. His hold was gentle but desperate. “Pie… can you hear that?” His voice cracked. “My heart. It only beats for you. My body… it only moves for you. My life… it only lives for you.”

He swallowed hard, biting back the wave of grief rising in his throat. “And my promise? I only kept it because of you.” His voice dropped lower, dangerous, rough, breaking apart at the edges. “If you leave me now… I will have nothing left.”

He paused, his chest heaving. Each breath tore at him, and when he finally spoke again, the words came out slow and jagged, dragged from the deepest part of him. “You know what? If you even dare to leave me…” he whispered, “then I’ll take everything you love with you.”