Chapter 30 | Bitter Taste of Wine

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Jingrui must have been out of her mind when she cried in front of Prince Zhanying. She wasn't sick, so what had gotten into her? It was the town and its ominous energy that was turning her this way. That must be it. This town stood at the gate of Hell, so it muddled with her mind.

Her sins were piling up on her, suffocating her as she walked with discomfort behind the Prince into a restaurant.

Jingrui had to beg Prince Zhanying to accompany her to dinner since she was not a High Deity and needed to fill herself. It took a strenuous effort to make him come, and he clenched his jaw the whole way he walked with her.

The village held no comfort, and the more the night sky crept over the horizon, the more unsettled she grew. At least, she had the God of War with her; she didn't need to fear.

They took a seat at a table within the dimly lit restaurant. Prince Zhanying sat opposite her and massaged his temples, utterly annoyed at the loud commotion of drunk men fused with the high-pitched opera. Jingrui pressed her lips into a thin line and quickly poured him tea, hoping to ease his tension. He snatched it from her, his eye glaring at her like an icy razor.

Soon, dinner was served, but dinner wasn't the only thing the restaurant offered. Several maidens dressed in colourful silks rushed to Prince Zhanying's side, making him almost spill his tea.

"Handsome Mister." One of the mortal women ran her long nails down his chest as she talked. "You radiate with an aura much like that of a God. Would you like to stay the night?"

Prince Zhanying grabbed her hand to stop it from trailing somewhere it should not. He shot her a dark gaze. "Mortal women really are no different from immortals."

The mortal maiden trembled under his dark eyes, but being the professional that she was, she quickly giggled and pressed her body against his. "This mister talks funnily, I love it!" The mortal squealed and turned to Jingrui. Her nose scrunched as she eyed her up and down. "Are you this mister's slave? Well then, you don't need to be here to serve him anymore. We will do that for you."

Jingrui puffed her cheeks out, rolling her eyes to the side. "I'm not his slave, I'm his—"

"Oh? You're not his slave, well then, you must be here to sign up as a server in this restaurant, right? Don't worry, I can tell my boss to take you straight in, you have the face and the body for it after all—"

Jingrui shot up from her seat, her teeth grinding. "I've lost my appetite. I'll go get some air outside." She slammed her chopsticks down onto the table and stormed out with rage tingling within her. She knew that if she were to stay any longer in the suffocating restaurant, she might explode like a volcano.

The dark sky outside embraced her body. Speckles of stars danced overhead, accompanied by the waning moon that was almost swallowed whole by the dark clouds. Cold licked her face and crept under her cloth, robbing warmth from her body.

Jingrui let puffs of mist rise into the air as she took careful steps along the familiar street, crunching pebbles below her feet.

You are an immortal now, mortals cannot harm you.

The Prince was right, she didn't have anything to fear. Slowly, she wandered from the street into the outskirts of the town where vast farmland filled with dried crops stood. Nestled within the farm was a cottage, blown and broken from the winter. An old man stood outside the cottage, cutting firewood. Sweat dripped from his ashen hair as he smashed his axe down.

The town was located at the foot of the Jade Dragon Mountain where the energy dispersed from Hell and Heaven meddled with the mortals' lives. The time here ticked slower than in the mortal realms, and as Jingrui watched the old man, it was no wonder he didn't age much.

Something pulled at the strings in her heart as she took a step towards him. But then she stopped in her tracks when several emotions crashed into her like a tidal wave, draining all her energy. Rage and hatred burned in her, but something else lingered atop it all: a yearning.

She didn't know whether it was the cool breeze that brushed against her skin, but she found herself trembling. "F-Father," she let the word tumble from her lips, feeling strange against the tip of her tongue.

How could she call him father after all that he had done?

The old man looked up, and his eyes widened. The axe in his hand fell onto the dried grass. He trembled as he stormed over to her.

No matter what he had done, he was still her father, and so she took heavy steps towards him. "Father, I—" she paused when his rough hand slapped onto her cheek, making her stumble down to the grass.

"You little unfilial wretch!" he yelled at her while pointing a shaky finger at her face. "You have the audacity to show your face in front of me and call me father?"

Jingrui's hands quivered as she touched her throbbing cheek. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she glared up at the man who gave her her life. Nothing about him changed, not his appearance, not his dark eyes that held a spite that ran deeper than blood. 

"Do you know what happened when you ran away? Do you know how much trouble you and Jingyi brought me after you left?" Her father's face grew red, his veins could be seen through his skin. "They trampled my place and robbed me of all my possessions. The two bags of rice that could have lasted me until the end of winter were taken away from me, leaving me to starve!"

Jingrui clenched her fists, and a bitter laugh croaked out of her lips. "So that's it? The trouble you go through . . . what else was I expecting?"

Her father sneered and kicked the grass. "You are dressing well now, aren't you? Probably seduced some noble at the capital and are here to mock my living. Well, I'll tell you, leave here. I don't need an unfilial little whore to show up here. So, don't let me see your wretched face ever again!"

Jingrui pushed herself to stand up. Without sparing him another glance, she walked off into the cold street. As soon as she had left him, rage and sadness collided in her, causing an explosion of emotion to take over her body.

How pathetic had she been to think he would miss her?

She slumped back into the inn and plopped down on the floor next to the table that laid in the middle of the veranda. Several wines prepared by the inn owner laid across the table, and she pulled one of the lids open before pouring herself a cup. The scent of alcohol wafted into the cool air as she chucked it down her throat, adding heat to her already-firing body.

Forgive but never forget.

A voice rang in her, but she laughed hard at it. What a stupid saying. How could she ever forgive them? She slumped down against the table and glanced up at the sky. The moon was always waning here, and the moon was cursed to remain waning for all eternity.

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