Chapter 163 The Prodigal Son 2 (2/2)

The crisp, clean scent, like pine needles after a snowfall, instantly dispelled the strong smell of swill and blood around her, forcefully penetrating her nostrils.

Zi Xi was supported by that force, thus avoiding the fate of falling into the filth.

What's even stranger is that she wasn't dizzy from low blood sugar, but rather that fragmented scenes were starting to appear in her mind.

Flames soared into the sky, illuminating the beautiful yet despair-distorted face of a young girl—Xia Momo, the original female protagonist who had transmigrated. She clutched a shattered jade pendant with dragon patterns tightly in her hand, her voice hoarse and desperate.

[On the throne in the Golden Palace, the dragon throne hung empty. Soldiers dressed in foreign attire grinned as they plunged a curved blade into the body of a young man in a dragon robe, blood splattering onto the throne.]

The ornately decorated palace collapsed amidst towering flames; exquisite jade artifacts were reduced to dust under the iron hooves of enemy soldiers; cries of agony filled the air. A cold, lonely figure stood atop the highest palace ruins, gazing upon the crumbling Jade Dynasty.

In an instant, Zi Xi's consciousness drifted through countless fragmented plot points.

She gripped the hand that was supporting her back tightly, as if it were the only piece of driftwood, her nails unconsciously digging into the fabric of the other person's wrist.

Zi Xi suddenly raised her head, her gaze struggling to focus on the person behind her.

My gaze first fell upon a dark blue garment, clearly made of the finest material. Following the garment upwards, I met a pair of eyes.

Those eyes were as deep as a bottomless, icy pool, so profound they seemed to swallow all light.

There was no emotion inside, only a silent, cold stillness, reflecting her pale face.

At his waist, on the jade belt of his black brocade robe, hung a jade pendant with a dragon pattern.

Exactly the same, so this is the male lead, Helian Jue?

Zi Xi's breath caught in her throat for a moment.

So this is the future regent of the Jade Glass Dynasty, the fictional male lead in the original story who had a love-hate relationship with the time-traveling heroine Xia Momo, which led to the downfall of the dynasty?

No!

It should be said that the protagonist, Helian Jue, awakened his self-awareness, reincarnated countless times in this small world, and witnessed the destruction of dynasties time and time again.

Helian Jue lowered his eyes, his cold and indifferent gaze sweeping over Zi Xi's fingers gripping his wrist before slowly moving back to her lowered head.

He was originally in the Lanyue Pavilion of Xiaoyao Villa.

The location was extremely high. Pushing open the window carved with intricate cloud patterns, the scenery of most of the capital city was displayed before one's eyes like a scroll painting.

Helian Jue preferred to recline lazily in a large rosewood armchair.

He wore a dark brocade robe with cloud patterns, the front of which was slightly open, revealing his hard jawline and a small section of his pale neck. In his hand, he held a nearly empty white jade wine pot.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze falling precisely on the bustling backyard of the Eight Treasures Pavilion through the open window.

Not far away, and with his excellent eyesight, he could tell that the partition between the backyard and the front hall was practically non-existent, and a scene he knew all too well to bear was about to unfold.

Pei Ziqing, the handsome scholar with a tall and straight figure, wearing a brand-new moon-white silk robe, reciting his lines with deep affection towards the kitchen.

Even though they were far apart and he couldn't hear the exact words, Helian Jue could still picture that posture, the profile he had deliberately adjusted to the best angle, and the tenderness and sorrow he exuded by leaning slightly forward, even with his eyes closed.

"Ha...it's utterly ridiculous..."

A chilling sneer escaped from his pale, thin lips.

Helian Jue tilted his head back and poured the last bit of wine from the bottom of the pot into his mouth. The wine was cold and spicy, but it did not warm him up at all as it slid down his throat, leaving only a numb burning sensation.

It's starting again.

That old cliché about phoenix coronet and embroidered robes, and the bittersweet story of overcoming hardship to achieve happiness.

As if pre-programmed, the words were delivered precisely at the appointed time by that despicable Pei Ziqing.

The orphaned young mistress of the Eight Treasures Pavilion, in each reincarnation, no matter where she begins, will eventually be like a puppet being pulled by threads, step by step stepping into a carefully woven trap.