Chapter 523 Returning Home at Night
The man at the entrance of the corridor was dressed in a long black robe. He was tall and straight like a pine tree, with a handsome face, but his brows held a deep and weathered look, as if he had experienced many trials and tribulations.
His gaze fell upon them, gentle yet firm.
It's him!
It's really him!
In an instant, Situ Meng and Murong Qing's eyes reddened without warning.
It was a complex emotion that mixed endless longing, grievance, worry, and ecstasy, like a flood that burst its banks, instantly shattering all their strong facades.
Two years! More than seven hundred days and nights, they have seen this face countless times in their dreams, only to wake up to find a cold pillow and mat.
They forced themselves to handle alliance affairs, using the heavy workload to numb themselves, just so that the agonizing longing wouldn't consume them.
At this moment, he stood there, alive and well, as if he had never left.
"Husband...husband?" Situ Meng's voice trembled violently, with a hint of disbelief and sobbing.
Murong Qing was even more direct, tears welling up in her eyes and sliding down her cheeks, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. She just stared intently at that figure, afraid that he would disappear again in the blink of an eye.
Looking at the two women in front of him, who were both haggard and strong because of him, Shen Mo felt a surge of emotions.
He saw the lingering worry in Situ Meng's eyes, and the slight thinning on Murong Qing's face due to overwork.
He saw the Tai'a and Gongbu held tightly in their hands, the powerful aura emanating from them that was enough to make them look down on the world, and even more so, the unreserved trust and deep affection in their eyes that belonged only to him.
He didn't speak, he just opened his arms.
This action speaks louder than a thousand words.
Situ Meng and Murong Qing could no longer restrain themselves. They dropped their swords and, like two weary birds returning to their nest, rushed into that warm and solid embrace.
They hugged him tightly, burying their faces in his chest, as if trying to make up for the two years they had been apart.
Tears soaked his clothes, their scalding heat burning his heart.
"You're finally back..." Murong Qing sobbed uncontrollably.
"We...we miss you so much..." Situ Meng's voice was full of grievance.
Shen Mo put his arms around one of them, feeling the soft, warm bodies and the rapid heartbeats in his arms. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and felt the familiar, sweet fragrance that belonged to them. His heart, which had been wandering for two years, finally found its home.
"I'm back." His deep and firm voice rang in their ears, carrying a power that could soothe any storm. "This time, I'm not leaving again."
Murong Qing and Situ Meng nestled tightly in Shen Mo's arms, one on each side, as if trying to convey all their longing, worry, and fear from the past two months to him through their flesh and blood.
Murong Qing's fingertips trembled slightly as she traced the fine crease on his black robe again and again, as if to confirm that this was not a dream.
She buried her face deep in the crook of his neck, greedily inhaling his unique scent—a mixture of pine needles, snow, and a faint trace of blood—a scent that was uniquely his and reassuring. She dared not look up, afraid that if she opened her eyes, this real and warm embrace would vanish like smoke, throwing her back into that endless waiting and torment.
Situ Meng gently rested her head on his shoulder, feeling his steady and powerful heartbeat, one beat after another, like the most reassuring drumbeat, shattering all the unease in her heart.
Her hands gripped his clothes tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white from the force, as if if she let go, he would once again embark on that unknown journey. Her eyes still held traces of tears, but more than anything, they held a sense of relief and satisfaction at having regained what she had lost.
She had imagined his return countless times in her dreams, but she never thought that he would return to them quietly on such a moonlit night, covered in dust from his journey.
"Don't go..." Murong Qing's voice was barely audible, with a barely perceptible sob, breaking the suffocating silence.
"Let's stay here a little longer..." Situ Meng echoed softly, her voice full of pleading.
Shen Mo's heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, so sore and swollen that it almost felt like it was going to burst.
He could clearly feel the slight trembling of the two delicate bodies in his arms; it was a deep-seated dependence and reluctance to part.
He longed to hold them like this forever, until the end of time, keeping all the hardships and dangers of the world at bay.
However, he was ultimately not a willful and reckless young man; he had more important things to do.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the surging emotions in his heart, and with all his tenderness, slowly and gently withdrew his arms from the two of them.
He moved with extreme care, as if they were fragile pieces of glass.
He raised his hand and gently wiped away the tears from Murong Qing's eyes with his fingertips, then tidied Situ Meng's slightly disheveled hair.
"I just got back and I still have things to take care of." His voice was deep and gentle, with an undeniable firmness. "You guys go back to your rooms and rest first, okay? I promise, I'll go back to my room as soon as I'm done."
His gaze swept across the two women's faces, his deep, unfathomable eyes filled with apology and promise.
Murong Qing and Situ Meng exchanged a glance, both seeing the same helplessness and understanding in each other's eyes.
They knew that the man before them was no longer Shen Mo, who belonged only to them; he was now the "Sword God," shouldering the responsibility for the thousands of disciples of the Heavenly Demon Sect and influencing the rise and fall of the entire martial world. Their deep reluctance and longing could only be expressed in a barely audible sigh.
"Then... come back soon." Murong Qing finally loosened her tightly clenched hands, her soft voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible loss and melancholy.
"Okay, we'll wait for you." Situ Meng nodded gently, forcing a gentle smile.
The two looked back every few steps, their eyes glued to Shen Mo, and reluctantly left the training ground.
Just as she was about to step down the training ground steps, Murong Qing suddenly stopped, turned around abruptly, and threw herself back into Shen Mo's arms, quickly planting a kiss on his lips. Then, blushing, she grabbed Situ Meng, whose cheeks were also flushed, and fled the training ground as if escaping.
That fleeting kiss, carrying both the girl's shyness and resolve, was like a faint electric current that instantly pierced through all of Shen Mo's defenses, leaving him standing there for a long time, the soft touch still lingering on his lips.
Only when the sound of their footsteps completely disappeared at the end of the corridor did Shen Mo slowly regain his composure, the last trace of tenderness in his eyes replaced by determination.
He straightened his robes, and his figure quickly blended into the boundless night.