Hearing the answer, Jiang Cheng arched a brow, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
He glanced at Si Qing, both startled and intrigued.
Admiration for her unique perspective glimmered in his gaze, impossible to hide.
Truly a woman of the new era—her thinking is refreshingly different.
Had this question been posed to the older generation,
most answers would have been trapped in conventional views:
'I like Zhao Min,' or 'I like Zhou Zhiruo.'
Then they'd launch into endless praise of each heroine's merits and charm.
No one would have blamed the male lead, Zhang Wuji.
After all, people back then were relatively conservative.
Their understanding of love stayed mostly on a single track.
This novel became a classic precisely because
it catered to the trends and values of its time,
matching that era's ideals of love, jianghu, and heroism.
But times change and society advances.
People's mind-sets have undergone earth-shaking shifts.
In today's open, pluralistic climate,
Zhang Wuji could never headline a blockbuster novel.
Life is hard enough; he still represses his primal—cough—his true feelings.
He's indecisive, forever wavering between affections,
squandering so many good women—it makes any guy furious.
'In the book, Zhang Wuji has more than Zhou Zhiruo and Zhao Min around him; there's Yin Li and Xiao Zhao too. Apart from Zhao Min, all the others eventually leave in sorrow.'
As Jiang Cheng spoke, he idly fiddled with a handful of Happy Beans.
'Take Yin Li: she's Zhang Wuji's cousin, known him since childhood. Through the haze of those early memories, she sees the brave, kind, stubborn boy he was, an impression etched so deeply she can't help loving him.'
'Yet after all the jianghu grudges, family strife, and countless setbacks, she still chooses to walk away and live alone.'
'And Xiao Zhao—clever, understanding—also loves him. She stays through his hardest moments, never hesitating to protect him. In the end, to save him, she acknowledges her mother and returns to Persia to lead the Ming Cult.'
'Religious strictures stand like an uncrossable gulf between them; she can only bury her fiery love and watch him from afar, unable to be together.'
Si Qing had been listening attentively, but Jiang Cheng's teasing left her flustered.
A strange sensation made her heart race.
She couldn't hold back a soft gasp, so quiet only she heard it.
A blush crept over her once-serious face.
Shyness mingled with a subconscious craving, knotting her feelings.
She wavered: should she stop him, tell him to speak without these games?
Yet the surge inside her won out.
Her hands, trapped between her thighs, clutched the bedsheet.
She didn't resist; biting her lip, she feigned calm. 'So what exactly are you trying to say?'
Though she pretended nothing was wrong, the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
Jiang Cheng curved his lips, turned his head, glanced at her,
and went on: 'Then there's Zhou Zhiruo. They grew up together under the same master on Mount Wudang; those innocent days are their sweetest memory. But fate entangles them in sectarian feuds, and Zhang Wuji's wavering leaves her torn between love and hate.'
'In despair and fury she turns against him. That love binds her whole life; she ends up shaving her head to become a nun, spending her days beside lonely lamps and Buddhas. Her beauty and talent fade in that long solitude, leaving only endless sorrow and regret.'
Si Qing had grasped his point long before he finished.
She stayed silent, partly to hide how much she was enjoying herself.
Tonight she felt nothing like herself.
Though her mouth said no, a single gesture from Jiang Cheng could set her swaying.
Body and mind had grown exquisitely sensitive.
They hadn't crossed any final line,
yet this teasing already pulled her in.
Si Qing couldn't imagine
what shockwaves would rip through her if they ever did the unspoken.
Seeing her half-lidded eyes, parted lips, flushed cheeks, trembling lashes—utterly alluring—
Jiang Cheng's heart stirred. He tilted his head, leaned in, and captured her soft pink lips.
In an instant Si Qing felt warm breath rush over her.
Her mind went blank; longing surged like a tide.
Just as she lost control and nearly kissed back, the kiss broke off.
Jiang Cheng pulled away cleanly, a wicked grin on his lips, savoring her dazed eyes and slightly swollen mouth.
With that same teasing smile he asked,
'After hearing their fates, do you still think Zhang Wuji was right to leave them? They were all good girls at the start; had Zhang Wuji handled things differently, their lives might have turned out better.'
His clean withdrawal stung her with a hint of frustration.
Her brows knit, eyes flashing disappointment—was he toying with her?
She had wondered about this when she first read Heaven Sword & Dragon Sabre.
Back then she'd simply thought Zhang Wuji a scumbag and the girls pitiable.
Now Jiang Cheng's words made sense, but to hide her let-down she stubbornly refused to agree.
Like a pouting child, she retorted, 'But if he acted that way, wouldn't he just be a sentimental scumbag?'