Hidden Shadow – CH 199

Chapter One-Hundred-Ninety-Nine: Farewell

An Jiu did not know what to say next. She herself had been stumbling along in confusion, feeling utterly hopeless not long ago, but only recently realized that being alive was a blessing.

Gu Jinghong did not want to die; he had been driven to the brink.

An Jiu was puzzled. If he was not the Emperor’s male concubine, then whose was he? And who were the “them” he spoke of?

“They are my biological father’s family,” Gu Jinghong said, understanding her questions. “I take my mother’s surname. But I’ve never met her. Later, according to my investigation, she was killed when I was born. A pitiful and foolish woman, deceived in love, bearing a child for someone else, and ultimately losing not only her title but also her life!”

An Jiu pursed her lips. This woman sounded somewhat like her mother. This feeling displeased her somewhat. “No matter what, she gave you life and brought you into this world, and you should not blame her like this. Your current situation is not inevitable; it is your own doing!”

“I brought it on myself?” Gu Jinghong asked calmly.

An Jiu said, “You did not just realize your situation today, did you? Since you understand, you chose to seek survival instead of death. You chose to kill others to save your own life—all cowardly and selfish choices. Why blame the mother who carried you for ten months?”

Gu Jinghong paused for a moment, then smiled. “You are right. I can read minds, but I’ve never truly understood my own heart. I thought being able to see through everything would allow me to find my own path.”

Talking to Gu Jinghong was effortless; a few words were enough for him to grasp the meaning, leaving An Jiu, who was not good at conversation, completely at a loss for topics.

They sat side-by-side on the rooftop all night, and the wind and snow only gradually subsided as dawn approached.

The world was a vast expanse of white, and the two of them were transformed into snowmen.

“I wish I could watch the seasons change like this,” Gu Jinghong murmured. He moved, snowflakes sliding down his face as he turned to look at the snowdrift beside him. He exhaled a puff of mist. “Thank you for keeping me company all night. Go back.”

An Jiu stood up, the accumulated snow cracking and falling from the eaves, creating a shallow crater in the clean, white snow.

She glanced at Gu Jinghong, said nothing, put down the wine jar, and jumped from the eaves, burying herself in the deep snow.

She climbed out and looked back to see Gu Jinghong smiling at her. Without the oppressive atmosphere of the previous night, his gentle, pure smile resembled that of an innocent young man. It was hard to imagine that he was one of the top assassins in the Konghe Army.

“I wish you all the best,” An Jiu murmured.

Gu Jinghong did not hear her voice, but seeing the shape of her lips, he silently said, “Thank you.”

An Jiu, lacking the skill of light-footed movement, struggled to trudge through the thigh-deep snow.

Gu Jinghong, standing on the rooftop, watched her figure disappear into the distance. His gentle expression vanished, replaced by a resolute determination that would last until death. He pulled a black cloth over his face, donned a ghost-face mask, leaped off the eaves, and vanished without a trace in the snow. He drifted away.

An Jiu’s footsteps crunched through the snow as she returned to her perpetually dark dwelling.

This time, however, a faint light flickered within.

A figure shrouded in a black cloak stood like a monument on the veranda. The pale yellow light cast a warm glow around his cold, lonely form.

He did not speak, but his large hand emerged from beneath the cloak and tossed her something.

An Jiu caught it. A warm sensation spread from her palm.

“There’s hot water. Go back and soak in it. Mo Sigui will be rebuilding your body these next few days.” Perhaps having remained silent for several hours, Chu Dingjiang’s voice was like a deep, resonant bell.

An Jiu held onto the hand warmer, motionless. Sensing Chu Dingjiang’s anger, she asked, “What happened?”

Given her way of thinking, she could never have guessed the real reason for Chu Dingjiang’s displeasure.

Chu Dingjiang sighed, thinking to himself that this child was completely different from normal people; why was he arguing with her?

“Your sigh makes you look particularly weathered,” An Jiu leaned forward. “It reveals your true age.”

Chu Dingjiang chuckled, “An Xiao Jiu, believe it or not, I will drag you and Mo Sigui together and beat you up.”

An Jiu thought, “I was serious!”

For a moment, An Jiu truly felt that the person shrouded in the cloak was an old man, but seeing his gloom vanish, she did not say it aloud.

“Ah Jiu, I am leaving for a while,” Chu Dingjiang said.

An Jiu walked to the veranda and brushed the snow off her clothes. “A few days?”

“About three to five months, or even a year or two,” Chu Dingjiang said, pulling her into his arms.

A sudden warmth enveloped her, and An Jiu shivered slightly. She had thought Chu Dingjiang’s business trip would last no more than ten days to half a month, but it had unexpectedly taken so long.

A year or two…

“What business are you going on?” An Jiu asked, unusually inquiring about someone else’s affairs.

“I am going to the Liao Kingdom,” Chu Dingjiang said casually, then changed the subject. “And there’s good news: I’ve been reinstated.”

This was the only advantage that generals in the Konghe Army had over ordinary court officials. Ordinary officials might spend ten or twenty years climbing to a high position, only to be ousted after a single mistake, making it even harder to rise again. However, in the Konghe Army, as long as you did not recklessly complete missions, you could quickly return. It was a place where combat prowess and loyalty mattered.

“You few will be joining the Konghe Army in three days. I’ve already informed you. You will be assigned to the Divine Martial Team,” Chu Dingjiang said.

An Jiu listened quietly as he finished speaking, then continued the previous topic. “What business are you going to take care of?”

Chu Dingjiang helplessly rubbed the back of her head, then whispered in her ear, “Someone has secretly accused Prime Minister Hua of treason. His Majesty has sent me with men to investigate.”

It was not a formal assignment; Chu Dingjiang had volunteered.

Treason was a crime punishable by the extermination of nine generations of one’s clan! Although Chu Dingjiang had abandoned his Hua clan identity and resolved to sever ties with them, his deeply ingrained clan values ​​remained unchanged. Now, facing this situation, he sighed at the “retribution,” yet he could not bear to watch this clan, with whom he had shared two lifetimes of ties, perish. Therefore, this matter had to be handled by him.

An Jiu did not understand Chu Dingjiang’s thinking, but since he had made the decision, he must have a reason to go.

“When are you leaving?” An Jiu asked.

Chu Dingjiang replied, “Now.”

He had come to say goodbye to her.

An Jiu suddenly reached out and hugged his waist, stood on tiptoe, and kissed both his cheeks. “Return safely.”

This was a very ordinary farewell in An Jiu’s memory, but it was the first time she had done it. However, to Chu Dingjiang, this intimacy felt like a wife seeing her husband off to war, instantly lifting his spirits. “Alright.”

The two embraced under the eaves.

Mo Sigui leaned against the doorframe, hands clasped behind his back. “Tsk tsk tsk.” He clicked his tongue a few times, feeling a pang of envy. Not caring if he disturbed them, he called out, “Mingyue, you are joining the Konghe Army tomorrow; let’s give each other a hug!”

As if he was not going.