Chapter 181: The Princess's Pursuit and Cremation Scene – Exclusive Black Stockings Appreciation Club (2)
Shia, watching the humorous interaction between the two women, couldn't suppress the smile on his lips. The lighthearted scene eased the tension in his heart, making his earlier concerns seem distant and unimportant.
'This is the kind of warmth I want to protect.'
As the three stood at the door under the golden light of the setting sun, the scene exuded an undeniable sense of peace and comfort.
"Well, since I'm back, shouldn't we head inside? Or do you plan to make me stand here and freeze in the cold?" Shia finally said, breaking the playful standoff.
Rong pouted but stepped aside, though her watchful eyes stayed glued to Nia, ready to prevent any further "offenses."
'I'll be watching you!'
Inside the villa, however, an unexpected visitor awaited them, clearly uneasy.
In the past, though Nia was naturally airheaded, she was perfectly capable of handling guests. Hosting visitors had always been her responsibility.
But this time, when Rong returned, Nia immediately snuck off to the door to wait for Shia.
Rong, while making progress in overcoming her social anxiety, still couldn't face a stranger directly. After serving tea, the two women sat stiffly, neither knowing what to say.
Eventually, Rong realized something was wrong and decided to fetch Nia to help with hosting. That was when she caught Nia in her "suspicious" act.
In their little squabble, both of them forgot about the guest waiting inside the villa.
As for Shia, he had no idea there was a visitor at all.
It wasn't until the three of them stepped inside that they noticed the guest seated nervously on the sofa—a poised woman clad in white stockings, her hands gripping a teacup. Her slender legs were crossed, her delicate lips pressed together, and her entire demeanor radiated unease.
Hearing the commotion at the door, she raised her head to look over.
The Sword Saintess, despite her celebrated reputation as a prodigy, had been troubled lately. Her usual confidence had been replaced by a restless melancholy, occasionally tinged with confusion.
Since her last visit to Shia's home, when she'd tasted that wine and experienced the state of egolessness, she hadn't been able to forget it. It was as if she'd become addicted to the sensation. No matter how she tried, she couldn't reach that state again.
Driven by her obsession with swordsmanship, Sistine had debated for days before deciding to visit her junior's villa.
Even though she had a severe aversion to men.
When she knocked on the door and saw Rong answering, she felt an initial wave of relief.
However, when she learned Shia wasn't home, she intended to leave.
Rong, however, insisted that Shia would be back shortly and invited her in to wait.
Though hesitant, Sistine couldn't refuse.
But now, faced with Shia's actual return, she froze like a startled rabbit, her entire body stiff and her mind screaming one thing: 'Run!'
The memory of her earlier disgraceful behavior—something Shia had witnessed—flooded her mind, causing her face to flush.
Her grip on the teacup tightened and loosened repeatedly, her heart pounding with tension.
Rong quietly explained Sistine's visit to Shia, who quickly pieced everything together.
When Shia smiled kindly, Sistine's body tensed further, her instinctive reaction to hide betraying her usual composed and regal demeanor as the Sword Saintess.
Shia took a seat on a separate armchair and spoke gently.
"There's no need to be so nervous, Senior. Is there something you wanted to discuss with me?"
Perhaps it was the distance between them or Shia's polite tone, but Sistine felt a small sense of ease. Her desperation to improve her swordsmanship also gave her courage.
Her voice was soft as she began to explain, even taking the initiative to apologize before stating her request.
"I'm sorry… I was wrong before. I came intending to drive you away, but now I find myself asking for your help…"
Her voice trailed off, and she looked visibly embarrassed. Even saying it aloud made her feel ashamed.
"But I truly want to reach the state of egolessness. I've searched everywhere, yet the only time I've ever felt it was after drinking that wine at your place."
Her large, pleading eyes locked onto Shia, her voice laced with embarrassment but steady.
"Could you… give me some of that wine again?"
Sistine, so honest and straightforward, laid bare her desires. Despite her shyness, she admitted to her mistakes and openly expressed her longing for the wine she'd tasted, making her appear vulnerable and endearing—an image starkly contrasting her usual cool elegance.
Shia hesitated.
"Unfortunately, I don't have any on hand right now," he said.
The light in Sistine's eyes dimmed slightly, but Shia hadn't finished.
"It'll take a few more days to brew another batch."
Her expression brightened immediately, and she leaned toward him instinctively.
"As long as you're willing to give it to me, I'm willing to pay any price!"
But Shia wasn't concerned about the time it would take.
He knew the wine could grant a temporary experience of the state of egolessness, but it wasn't a sustainable solution.
"Although it can help you touch upon the state of egolessness, it's not a long-term solution. I wouldn't recommend relying on it," Shia said, his tone serious.
His somber words left Sistine momentarily stunned.
"Do you know why you haven't been able to break through in your swordsmanship?" he continued.
His earnest demeanor prompted Sistine to listen intently, though she couldn't help but wonder: 'How does he know so much about me?'
"It's because your fear of men has become a nightmare that you can't escape.
"As long as you keep running from it, your heart will never find peace. Without inner peace, how can you achieve the mental clarity needed for the state of egolessness?"
Shia's words were sharp, directly pointing out the root of her predicament.
Hearing this, Sistine lowered her head, avoiding his gaze. Her fingers clenched tightly around her sword hilt, her knuckles white.
It was clear she already knew this to be true.
But knowing didn't mean she could change it.
This was precisely why she had become so desperate after tasting the wine—it had been her only path to that state.
Sistine opened her mouth as if to speak but ultimately said nothing. Her usually proud posture slumped slightly, her shoulders drooping.
"However, Senior, if you truly want it, I can still provide the wine you had before," Shia said.
Her eyes lit up once more, meeting his gaze with renewed hope.
In the span of a few moments, her emotions had risen and fallen repeatedly.
But something about Shia's serious expression made her uneasy.
"There's a limit, though. That wine can only work twice. After that, you may never reach the true state of egolessness again."
"Instead of relying on external forces for a false breakthrough, Senior, I have another suggestion," he continued.
"You could try facing this issue by working with me."
His gaze was sincere, a clear offer of help.
Shia genuinely wanted to assist Sistine in overcoming her struggles, perhaps even earn her trust and loyalty in the process.
Faced with his proposal, Sistine hesitated.
Though she had resolved to seek his help, the reality of the situation left her uncertain.
"I'll… think about it," she murmured.
Even as she left, she couldn't make up her mind, torn between what she wanted and what she was willing to confront.
After bidding farewell and leaving, the earlier scenes replayed in Sistine's mind.
From the moment Shia entered the villa, she had noticed how he intentionally kept a respectful distance.
While the arrangement might seem distant in a typical conversation, for her, it was just the right amount of space.
He had even offered to provide the wine she craved, though he pointed out its drawbacks.
Finally, her memory lingered on Shia's suggestion before she left.
Those subtle gestures of warmth during their interaction left Sistine feeling perplexed.
'He's so different from the men I've known.'
To her, men had always been cruel, cold-hearted beings.
"...Sigh…"
A soft sigh escaped the lips of the golden-haired saintess.
Raising her delicate hand, she lightly touched the blindfold over her eyes.
Beneath it, she could still feel the searing pain—a pain that originated from the depths of her soul, transcending time to remain with her since that moment of betrayal.
In her mind, Shia's warm and sincere smile appeared again.
'This junior of mine doesn't seem so bad… but is he really trustworthy?'
'Should I take a step toward change or continue as I am?'
Sistine couldn't decide and had no answers for now.