Warning: Sexual Content
After dinner, the warm glow of the lantern casting soft shadows, Ping'an sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze thoughtful. Guo Baiyu was engrossed in his book, its pages rustling softly, while Zhao Renshu meticulously sharpened his sword at the table, the metallic rasp a familiar rhythm. Her eyes drifted to the corner of the bedroom, where a daybed lay, neatly made with a blanket and a pillow.
Ping'an looked at Zhao Renshu, a question in her voice. "Renshu, you sleep over there?"
Zhao Renshu looked up from his sword, meeting her gaze, and nodded.
"Why?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
Zhao Renshu slowly sheathed his sword, the click of metal echoing in the quiet room. "Without you, I have no reason to sleep next to him," he stated simply, his voice a low confession of loneliness.
Guo Baiyu quietly put down his book and walked to the bed, his movements fluid and tender. He knelt in front of Ping'an, wrapping his arms gently around her waist, pulling her close.
Ping'an, her face serene, lovingly caressed Guo Baiyu's hair, her fingers tracing the faint lines of white she noticed at his temples. "Baiyu, your hair has turned white from the root," she murmured, a wistful sadness in her voice. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with adoration, and she leaned down to kiss his forehead. "It reminds me of the first time we met," she whispered, her fingers softly running through his hair, recalling its vibrant blackness. "These hairs were silky black then."
Guo Baiyu smiled up at her, his gaze unwavering. "As long as you are by my side, I will embrace aging," he said, his voice soft, filled with profound contentment. He gently picked her up, light as a feather, and placed her on the bed.
Zhao Renshu, observing Guo Baiyu's actions, a flicker of indignation crossing his face, exclaimed, "What are you doing?!" He stood up and walked swiftly to the bed, a challenge in his posture.
"We are going to bed; it has nothing to do with you," Guo Baiyu retorted calmly, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Zhao Renshu gritted his teeth, a low growl escaping him. "Don't mess with me!"
Guo Baiyu calmly continued, his voice even, pushing Zhao Renshu's buttons. "I thought you left everything behind, you were going to change back to the original Zhao Renshu, you don't want to take the surname Guozhao anymore." He leaned in and, with a tender possessiveness, kissed Ping'an's lips, his gaze still fixed on Zhao Renshu. "Please close the door when you leave," he added, a final, taunting jab.
Zhao Renshu, enraged, frantically grabbed Guo Baiyu by the collar, his knuckles white. "Baiyu! Get out! Let's fight!" he roared, his anger boiling over.
"Renshu, don't be so childish," Ping'an interjected, her voice gentle but firm, slowly, calmly taking Zhao Renshu's hands from Guo Baiyu's collar, her touch a soothing balm.
"Fine. I am out of here," he huffed, pulling his hand away, still seething.
He turned to walk toward the door, but Ping'an, with unexpected speed, quickly got off the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, holding him close.
"Your waist is thinner than the last time I hugged you," she murmured, pressing her face against his back, her voice filled with a gentle concern.
Zhao Renshu's body tensed, then softened. He slowly turned around, his anger melting away, and kissed her deeply on the lips. With a shared glance, the two walked back to the bed.
Guo Baiyu, with tender care, took off Ping'an's clothes, then his own. Zhao Renshu, his eyes filled with rekindled desire, kissed her lips, then undressed himself. Ping'an turned her head to the right, pulling Guo Baiyu's head closer, and began to kiss him passionately, her lips seeking his.
Zhao Renshu, in turn, began to kiss her chest, trailing downward, then licked her left nipple with his tongue, circling it, while gently rubbing her right nipple with the thumb and index finger of his right hand.
Guo Baiyu reached under the pillow and took out a bottle of shimmering sunflower oil. He poured some onto his right hand, then gently massaged Ping'an's backdoor, slowly and carefully inserting a finger, preparing her.
After a while, Guo Baiyu picked up Ping'an, positioning her, and inserted his member into her backdoor. Zhao Renshu then, with a soft groan, inserted his member into Ping'an's private.
Ping'an hugged tightly around Zhao Renshu's neck, her legs wrapping around him. Zhao Renshu grabbed her legs, Guo Baiyu grabbed her buttocks, and the two men thrusted at the same time and with the same powerful rhythm, a symphony of shared pleasure.
After a while, Zhao Renshu, with a shared understanding, turned Ping'an around to face Guo Baiyu. Guo Baiyu inserted his member into Ping'an's private, and Zhao Renshu inserted his member into Ping'an's backdoor, their bodies intertwining. The two men vigorously thrust at the same time, their movements synchronized. As their members moved in and out, they felt them rub against each other, a thrilling friction. In the silent night, punctuated only by their ragged breathing, sweat dripped from their bodies onto the bamboo floor, and the lovers kept panting and groaning, lost in ecstasy.
Each of them tried to hold their breath while enjoying the thrilling climax, and then the two climaxed at the same time, their white, viscous liquid mixing with their sweat on the floor, a testament to their shared passion.
Early in the morning, the soft light of dawn filtering through the window, Ping'an was gently combing Guo Baiyu's hair. As her comb glided through his locks, she noticed, with a pang of bittersweet recognition, a few more strands of gray. She remembered that when she first combed his hair in Peach Blossom Valley, it had been as black as silk. She braided his hair with loving care and held him close, cherishing the quiet intimacy.
Guo Baiyu smiled, his eyes still closed, and asked softly, "What's the matter?"
"In the blink of an eye," Ping'an mused softly, her voice filled with a gentle wonder and a touch of melancholy, "our hair has turned gray."
Zhao Renshu, warm and content, hugged her from behind, his arms wrapping around her waist. "Because we love you too much," he murmured, his voice husky with affection.
Guo Baiyu said softly, his voice imbued with a profound wisdom, "Days are long for those who suffer, and years are short for those who are loved."
"Have you two returned to Cloud City?" Ping'an asked, a sudden thought.
"No," Guo Baiyu replied, his voice quiet.
Ping'an leaned back and kissed Zhao Renshu's cheek, a tender gesture. "Go wash your face, and I will comb your hair."
Zhao Renshu, his eyes twinkling, kissed her right cheek in return, a playful acceptance.
Shortly after Ping'an finished combing Zhao Renshu's hair, braiding it with practiced ease, a horse carriage stopped in front of the couple's house, its arrival announced by the soft crunch of wheels on the dirt path.
"That's Yaoting and the gang," Zhao Renshu noted, recognizing the familiar sounds.
Ping'an and Zhao Renshu walked to the front door, watching the group of friends—Fang Yaoting, Lee Dachin, Lim Peizhi, Huang Yueliang, Huang Hongse, and Guo Longtong—walk into the house. As they went downstairs to meet them, Ping'an, her face alight with joy, rushed over and hugged both Fang Yaoting and Lim Peizhi fiercely, her arms encompassing them. She then went to hug Dachin, her embrace warm, and offered a radiant smile and a nod to Huang Hongse and Guo Longtong, welcoming them all.
After their brief, joyful reunion, the group went to Immortal Valley to visit the centaurs. King Shammek, his face still etched with the weariness of war, wanted to hold a grand party to celebrate their survival, but the three Guozhao Hunters politely refused, their hearts still too heavy for full celebration. King Shammek, understanding, then took Ping'an aside, leading her to see the now-sealed Demon Gate.
"How long until it decides to collapse again?" Ping'an asked, her gaze fixed on the ominous, reconstructed structure, a hint of dread in her voice.
"We don't know," King Shammek replied, his voice heavy with uncertainty. "I hope never. We lost too many people in the last battle." He looked at her, a profound question in his eyes. "How did you get out, and the gate is still sealed?"
"I don't know," Ping'an admitted, her brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "Jiutian Xuannü came to me and said that she could set me free." She looked at the Demon Gate, and just then, three lightning bolts, sharp and brilliant, pierced the ground directly in front of it, a fleeting, ominous sign. She reached behind her hair, a sudden realization dawning on her; her sword was gone. "Next time I see her," she mused, a hint of frustration in her voice, "I will ask her."
"I don't know what to call you?" King Shammek said, a slight hesitation in his voice, respectful of her dual nature.
Ping'an smiled at King Shammek, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Just call me Ping'an. I don't remember what happened when I was Syaoran. Aishu told me that if I didn't call my heart back, it might not work, but at that time I was very desperate. I gambled, without knowing for sure I would turn into Syaoran."
King Shammek sighed happily, a profound relief washing over him. "I am glad it worked out," he murmured, grateful for her survival.
"Thank you for your hospitality," Ping'an said, her voice warm with gratitude.
"This is also your home," King Shammek assured her, his voice genuine. "Whenever you want to come back, you are welcome."
Ping'an and King Shammek later met the group of friends and the two princes, Siyuan and Yuping, at the Waterfall Gate, ready to depart.
"If anything happens to the gate, let us know," Guo Baiyu requested, his voice serious, entrusting them with a critical vigil.
"I hope that day never comes," King Shammek replied solemnly, a shared hope in his eyes.
"Me too," Guo Baiyu agreed, a quiet, heartfelt sentiment.
Siyuan, one of the centaur princes, offered a final farewell. "Ping'an, safe journey back home."
"I will definitely visit," Ping'an promised, her voice sincere.
Yuping, the other prince, smiled warmly at the three Guozhao Hunters. "Until next time," he said.
The group bid farewell and rode across the magnificent Friendship Bridge to Waterfall City, their hearts a little lighter. As they crossed through the vast cemetery, the Centaur soldiers who were diligently clearing the area paused their work and waved to them, a gesture of respect and comradeship.
"King Shammek did a wonderful job," Ping'an commented, looking at the beautifully kept cemetery, a monument of peace over sacrifice.
"I am very happy to have someone like him guarding the Demon Gate," Lim Peizhi said, his voice filled with admiration.
"I am also proud of you, Peizhi," Ping'an added, a genuine warmth in her voice.
"For?" Lim Peizhi inquired, surprised and pleased.
"Keeping your promise to the people of the Wasteland," Ping'an clarified, her gaze firm, acknowledging his integrity.
"You have to thank Baiyu," Lim Peizhi demurred, shaking his head modestly, attributing the success to his friend.
Guo Baiyu simply shook his head modestly, a faint smile on his lips.
When the group arrived at the Sunrise Inn in Waterfall City, the sky was already painted with the deep hues of evening. Lim Peizhi, Huang Hongse, and Guo Longtong decided to go back to the mayor's residence, eager to rest.
The remaining group—Guo Baiyu, Zhao Renshu, Ping'an, Fang Yaoting, Lee Dachin, Boss Xiong, and Xiong Lifeng—walked inside. The cheerful greeter immediately came to greet them, asking them to sit at the back table. He then hurried away to let Xiong Lifeng know that their friends had returned, already bustling with new orders.
After a while, the waiter brought them tea, its warmth a comforting presence. Boss Xiong and Xiong Lifeng then walked in, their faces alight with anticipation.
Boss Xiong stretched out his hand towards Ping'an, his voice trembling slightly with emotion, a plea and a gesture of reconciliation. "Ping'an," he murmured.
Ping'an, her eyes brimming with a lifetime of complex emotions—past pain, present understanding, and a willingness to forgive—reached out and gently grabbed Boss Xiong's hand. Tears welled in her eyes because she realized, with a profound pang, she had never truly held Boss Xiong's hand since she could remember. The only times he had put his hand on her was to beat her.
"Boss Xiong, what's wrong with your eyes?" Ping'an asked, her voice soft with concern, noticing his clouded, distant gaze.
"It's part of being old," Boss Xiong replied, a weary resignation in his voice.
"Baiyu, you can take a look," Ping'an suggested, turning to her husband.
"I am not an eye doctor, and I don't understand very well," Guo Baiyu said, a hint of regret in his voice. "I have tried my best, but this is beyond my expertise."
Xiong Lifeng smiled gently, offering a ray of hope. "Brother-in-law Baiyu thinks Capital City will be better, where there are more doctors, more specialists." She looked at Zhao Renshu. "Brother-in-law Renshu is going to have a healer take a look, a spirit healer."
"I have talked with Siyuan," Zhao Renshu confirmed, his voice firm. "He will bring a healer in two weeks' time, a skilled one."
"Ping'an," Boss Xiong began again, his voice filled with deep emotion, thick with longing for absolution, "Baiyu told me you forgave me a long time ago, but I still want to hear you, please forgive me?" he pleaded, his eyes searching hers for true forgiveness.
Ping'an smiled, her eyes brimming with love and acceptance, her face radiating peace. "Baiyu is right," she affirmed, her voice gentle, unwavering. "I have forgiven you a long time ago. Since childhood until now, from black hair now turned to gray, I don't hold anything against you. I moved forward, so should you."
"Thank you," Boss Xiong whispered, utterly broken by her kindness, tears falling freely from the corners of his eyes, a lifetime of regret finally washing away.