AVL Chapter 27

In the dead of night.

 

Xi Jue was forcibly dragged from the icy pond water by a slender but strong hand. Soaking wet, he lay on the shore covering his chest, coughing heart-wrenchingly.

 

His lungs felt crushed by heavy objects, every breath bringing needle-like stabbing pain.

 

“Sheng… *cough cough*! You…”

 

Falling into water twice in one day, Xi Jue had never suffered such hardship. He coughed until his face was covered with water traces—whether pond water or hot tears, he looked pitiful and fragile.

 

The equally soaked Sheng Jiao knelt beside him, his long hair and black clothes dripping continuously, his vacant gaze fixed on the yellow flower blooming by the shore.

 

Xi Jue grabbed his shoulder, seeming to want to scold him, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he was choked by water, miserably hanging half his body on Sheng Jiao while coughing desperately.

 

“You… *cough cough* I’ll kill you! *cough cough* wuu…”

 

Sheng Jiao remained unmoved, swaying back and forth as Xi Jue’s coughing shook him, his emotionless eyes lowered, looking at the flower as if no one else existed.

 

Finally, Xi Jue recovered, roughly wiping the water from his face, his voice hoarse as he cursed: “Stuffy gourd, you did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

 

He hadn’t wielded a whip to strike anyone like during the day—why was he still getting struck?

 

Was there no justice in this world?

 

Sheng Jiao treated him like air, showing no reaction no matter how much he chattered.

 

As if his earlier responsive gesture was just an illusion.

 

Possessed by some spirit, Sheng Jiao suddenly reached forward again.

 

Xi Jue was so frightened he kicked his legs and retreated repeatedly, afraid he would strike him again.

 

…But he saw Sheng Jiao use his cold, trembling fingertip to try touching that blooming little wildflower, though his movement froze before getting close.

 

As if fearing something.

 

Xi Jue was stunned, raising his hand to wipe his waterlogged ear, looking at him in confusion.

 

His fingertip was only half an inch from the flower.

 

Sheng Jiao’s body was rigid, maintaining the posture of reaching forward for so long that the water droplets on his fingertip froze into white frost. He suddenly shuddered before slowly withdrawing his hand.

 

As if afraid the coldness on his body would wither this bright, beautiful flower.

 

Suddenly, an icy hand reached from beside him, firmly gripping Sheng Jiao’s wrist.

 

Sheng Jiao was stunned, looking up in shock.

 

Xi Jue had crawled over on his knees, his long hair half-wet and scattered to the ground. The beautiful, clean young master was in complete disarray.

 

He should have been angry and irritable, but for some reason was unexpectedly quiet, his eyes lowered and looking extremely gentle—as if all the day’s arrogant pride was just a facade.

 

Without a word, he tightly gripped Sheng Jiao’s hand, forcibly guiding his five fingers forward bit by bit.

 

Sheng Jiao’s pupils contracted sharply as he instinctively tried to withdraw his hand.

 

But Xi Jue said: “Look.”

 

Sheng Jiao remained wooden.

 

Xi Jue was much thinner than his peers, yet now used all his strength to pull Sheng Jiao’s iron-rod-like hand, pressing it down firmly.

 

His fingertip felt something soft and warm.

 

Sheng Jiao stared blankly.

 

Xi Jue had guided his hand to touch that flower.

 

He said gently: “…Look, the flower bloomed.”

 

No matter when, Sheng Jiao always looked like an emotionless, desireless ice sculpture, but now he was clearly stunned.

 

The late autumn flower bloomed lonely and desolate, gently moving against Sheng Jiao’s fingertip in the wind.

 

The flower seemed to grow in an icy world, struggling with tender shoots to break through hard ice layers. Even with severed roots, it used its last trace of life to bloom unappreciated flower clusters toward the light.

 

The entire frozen world seemed shattered by this flower.

 

With the warm, sunlight-like flower as center, ice cracked and scattered everywhere. The world that had only black and white suddenly gained color from that brilliant yellow.

 

Late autumn deep night, frost and cold ice.

 

Yet the surroundings were already full of blooming flowers.

 

For no reason, Sheng Jiao thought: “I’ve returned.”

 

Drunk in the mortal world, the heart finally has a corner where flowers bloom.

 

Xi Jue finally released his hand, listlessly touching his ear and getting up without a word, hugging his arms as he walked toward his quarters.

 

He didn’t even have the strength to be angry anymore, only wanting to go back and change out of his soaked clothes.

 

After taking two steps, Xi Jue seemed to sense something and turned back slightly.

 

Sheng Jiao was looking at him.

 

Those withered eyes seemed to have gained a trace of life, staring directly at him, just like the light he had when looking at osmanthus flowers during the day.

 

“What are you looking at? This isn’t over between us.” Xi Jue said weakly but still tried to show his claws. “I’ll settle accounts with you tomorrow. Hurry up and go back to sleep.”

 

Sheng Jiao slowly stood up, still looking at him.

 

“Go back, go sleep over there.” Xi Jue pointed at the osmanthus courtyard, frowning. “Heaven above, I feel like you’re not lacking the five senses, but missing a screw in your brain. Can’t you understand what I’m saying?”

 

Sheng Jiao: “…”

 

Sheng Jiao was soaked through. His lips pressed tight as he looked at him for a while, then turned and went back.

 

Xi Jue finally breathed a sigh of relief and walked away cursing.

 

Without attendants to serve him, the pampered young master could still take good care of himself. He bathed and changed clothes, lying in bed eating spirit pills while coughing.

 

“The flower bloomed…” As the spirit pills took effect, Xi Jue grew drowsy, thinking hazily: “Can one flower break winter?”

 

Perhaps because of that flower, Xi Jue dreamed he became a seed buried deep underground, straining to break through the soil. He worked so hard his head hurt from pushing, but stubbornly wouldn’t sprout.

 

Finally, he woke himself up from anger.

 

Xi Jue sat on the bed holding his head for a while. Outside, heavy bell sounds rang.

 

The hour of the dragon had arrived—time to go to Jiusi Courtyard for class.

 

Xi Jue jumped up and hastily washed, putting on a goose-yellow cloak with a circle of fluffy white fox fur around his neck. The noble young master raised in gold, jade, and brocade carried himself with otherworldly grace in every movement.

 

He planned to find Feng Yu to go to Jiusi Courtyard together. Just as he ran out and saw the pond, he instinctively felt apprehensive and changed direction.

 

While strolling past, he glimpsed across the pond where Sheng Jiao stood under the eaves outside the osmanthus courtyard, looking down at the scattered osmanthus flowers on the ground, lost in thought.

 

He must have been standing there quite a while—osmanthus flowers had already accumulated in his hair and on his shoulders.

 

Xi Jue: “…”

 

Xi Jue was still angry and didn’t want to talk to him. He could only glare at him from afar. The goose-yellow cloak wrapped around him made him look like an osmanthus spirit as he ran off in the late autumn wind.

 

Sheng Jiao looked toward the sound, only catching sight of that yellow color like last night’s little flower disappearing into the dense forest.

 

He gently lowered his hand, an osmanthus branch hanging down between his fingers.

 

The cold wind blew, dropping several golden flower petals.

 

Jiusi Courtyard had carved railings and jade structures, facing a crescent pool in front and backed by green mountains. A snow-white waterfall seemed to come from the clouds, the sound of flowing water faintly echoing through the mountain forest like a fairyland.

 

When Xi Jue arrived, everyone except him and Sheng Jiao was already there.

 

The vast academy was arranged extremely elegantly with eight desks total on the left and right.

 

The director hadn’t arrived yet. Six young boys sat properly, all looking at Xi Jue when he entered.

 

Xi Jue wasn’t timid and had no awkwardness meeting strangers. He happily ran to Feng Yu: “How did you all come so early?”

 

Feng Yu was unusually listless. Seeing him, he forced himself to perk up: “You got up too late. Fortunately the director hasn’t arrived today, or you’d definitely be punished.”

 

Xi Jue sat cross-legged, asking strangely: “What’s wrong with you?”

 

Feng Yu hadn’t expected him to be so perceptive. After a pause, he leaned close to whisper in his ear.

 

“These people are very difficult to talk to. We’re going to have trouble ahead.”

 

Feng Yu loved excitement. On the first day of school, wanting to build good relationships with everyone, he actively started a conversation waiting for responses.

 

“I’ve long admired everyone’s great names. I wonder what your Xiangwen are? Could you let me broaden my horizons?”

 

Silence all around.

 

Feng Yu: “…”

 

Feng Yu maintained a stiff smile, his lips twitching slightly.

 

No matter what he said afterward, the other five either gave fake smiles, looked down at books, or treated him like he was farting, not giving even half a word in response.

 

Even with Feng Yu’s thick skin, after trying two or three conversation topics without getting responses, he couldn’t stand the deadly awkward silence and stopped talking in frustration.

 

He flipped through his book with rustling sounds, saying glumly: “I’ve never been so ignored…”

 

Just then, Xi Jue made an “oh” sound and stood up supporting himself on the desk, seeming about to speak.

 

Having experienced the shame and embarrassment of speaking without anyone responding, Feng Yu quickly grabbed him.

 

“What are you doing? They won’t pay attention to you!”

 

Xi Jue didn’t listen, shamelessly going to a nearby boy in white crane and magnolia robes, saying crisply: “I’m Xi Jue. Who are you?”

 

Feng Yu turned his head away, unable to bear watching.

 

This person was most annoying—only smiling, eye-smiling, lip-curving smiles, smiling everywhere, flower-like smiles, but never speaking.

 

Feng Yu had initially thought he was Rang Chen, until seeing his legs and recognizing this was Heng Yudu.

 

Young Heng Yudu turned to look at Xi Jue, his misty eyes curving gently.

 

Refusing communication.

 

But Xi Jue wasn’t afraid. He even crawled under the desk to look at Heng Yudu’s legs hanging to the side, asking puzzledly: “Your legs can’t move? Can they be healed? Is it congenital deficiency or injury? Hm? Hm hm? Hm hm hm?”

 

Heng Yudu: “…”

 

Feng Yu: “…”

 

Feng Yu watched the audacious Xi Jue in horror.

 

How could he pick on someone’s painful spot right upon meeting?

 

Heng Yudu’s congenital deficiency and inability to walk was known throughout Central State’s three territories.

 

Xi Jue seemed deliberate, chattering endlessly around the person’s legs.

 

He was too noisy—the other Zhuxing Zhai members all frowned at him.

 

Feng Yu thought this annoying guy would be slapped away with a smile by Heng Yudu, but heard the smile in Heng Yudu’s eyes seem more genuine as he spoke gently.

 

“My name is Heng Yudu. My legs can’t move and can’t be healed—it’s congenital deficiency.”

 

Feng Yu was stunned.

 

He actually spoke?!

 

“Oh oh oh!” Xi Jue nodded. “Nice to meet you, nice to meet you. I’ve long admired you.”

 

After speaking, he crawled on his knees to another white-robed boy who was fiddling with a rhinoceros horn lamp: “Who are you? What’s this? Can you let me play with it?”

 

Feng Yu: “…”

 

Really thick-skinned and bold.

 

The white-robed boy had serene, peaceful eyes like a quietly blooming night-blooming cereus. He wore a string of prayer beads around his neck, nodded slightly, and made a gentle hand gesture.

 

Xi Jue tried to copy it twice: “What does this mean?”

 

Heng Yudu spoke softly: “It means he practices a vow of silence and cannot speak.”

 

Before Xi Jue could respond, Heng Yudu continued on his own: “Rang Chen doesn’t have too much bad karma. His Xiangwen can glimpse heavenly secrets, so he must constantly restrain himself.”

 

Xi Jue: “Ah…”

 

Heng Yudu probably felt he hadn’t explained well enough and continued: “Heavenly secrets mean the future. His Xiangwen is Glimpsing Heaven’s Secrets—everyone knows this.”

 

Xi Jue: “I…”

 

Heng Yudu added: “Ah, don’t misunderstand. I don’t mean you’re ignorant. I’m just stating facts.”

 

Xi Jue: “…”

 

One with a vow of silence, one a chatterbox.

 

As the two were talking, gentle footsteps came from outside. Sheng Jiao entered Jiusi Courtyard expressionlessly.

 

Xi Jue’s happy face immediately fell as he glared at him.

 

Sheng Jiao’s eyes were lifeless. Without looking at anyone around, he walked indifferently to an empty desk and was about to sit down.

 

Xi Jue scrambled up, quickly crawling over and gripping the desk as he knelt on the cushion, unreasonably saying: “This is my seat. Go away.”

 

Only then did Xi Jue notice several new books on the desk clearly labeled with “Sheng Jiao’s” name.

 

Xi Jue: “…”

 

Even so, Xi Jue remained unreasonable but confident, glaring at Sheng Jiao with undiminished momentum.

 

If this were yesterday, the rule-following Sheng Jiao who wouldn’t tolerate the slightest deviation would probably have struck him with Tianyan pearls. But today, as if the sun rose from the west, Sheng Jiao only glanced at him once, turned on his heel, and quietly sat at Xi Jue’s position.

 

Xi Jue: “…”

 

Xi Jue immediately felt the frustration of punching cotton with all his might.

 

The first day of class had no real agenda. That Director Wen didn’t even show up, probably wanting the boys to get familiar with each other.

 

Xi Jue was angry and spent the entire day propping his cheek and glaring at Sheng Jiao until his eyes were sore, but he refused to give up.

 

Sheng Jiao continued treating him like he was invisible, looking down at the books labeled “Xi Jue” with single-minded focus.

 

Xi Jue was so angry he nearly fell backward. Finally willing to withdraw his gaze, he ran to sit closely beside the most talkative Heng Yudu.

 

Heng Yudu smiled.

 

Xi Jue whispered: “Is that saw-mouthed gourd also practicing a vow of silence? Do you know the inside story?”

 

Heng Yudu had a good but slow-warming temperament. Once familiar with someone, he stopped his death smile. He made an “ah” sound, looking somewhat troubled: “Speaking ill of people behind their backs really isn’t gentlemanly behavior.”

 

“We’re not speaking ill behind his back.” Xi Jue argued righteously, pointing at Sheng Jiao. “We’re talking about him to his face—open and aboveboard. Don’t worry, we’re still gentlemen.”

 

Heng Yudu: “…”

 

Feng Yu also leaned over: “What what? Whose business are we discussing? Let me listen too!”

 

“Actually, it’s not really a secret. Everyone in Central State’s three territories knows about this.” Heng Yudu said helplessly. “Sheng Jiao’s Xiangwen is Spiritual level ‘Worthy of Heavenly Dao’—an existence comparable to Heaven’s will itself, but the Sheng family head… *sigh*.”

 

Probably feeling that speaking ill of elders behind their backs wasn’t gentlemanly either, Heng Yudu used “*sigh*” to replace those unfinished words.

 

Xi Jue and Feng Yu nodded, indicating they understood the meaning of this sigh.

 

“…Very *sigh*.” Heng Yudu said. “The Sheng family hadn’t produced even a Heaven level Xiangwen in hundreds of years. Suddenly producing a Spiritual level Xiangwen, they just… *sigh*.”

 

“So *sigh*, too *sigh*.” Xi Jue and Feng Yu said.

 

“They probably misunderstood the meaning of ‘Worthy of Heavenly Dao,’ thinking Spiritual level Xiangwen could replace Heaven’s will in granting pardons and clemency. So they wanted Sheng Jiao to skip Tianyan Academy and go directly to work at Xiezhi Sect.”

 

Feng Yu frowned: “Go to the hellish Xiezhi Sect at twelve years old? Are the Sheng family people insane?”

 

Heng Yudu: “*Sigh*, *sigh*!”

 

Xi Jue glanced at Sheng Jiao and asked in a low voice: “Then why didn’t he go to Xie… Xie-whatever?”

 

Feng Yu glared at him: “Xiezhi, Xiezhi! How do you not know anything?”

 

Heng Yudu, probably rarely having peers to chat with, seemed to have opened his chatterbox and continued whispering: “Before Sheng Jiao awakened his Xiangwen… I only saw him once. He was about the same as, as…”

 

He looked around and pointed at Rang Chen: “About the same as Rang Chen—gentle and refined, loved to smile.”

 

Xi Jue was stunned: “Huh?”

 

He couldn’t imagine Sheng Jiao, that ice block, smiling.

 

Heng Yudu said: “He was sent by the Sheng family to Xiezhi Sect to undergo training in Shentian She…”

 

Xi Jue interrupted: “What’s Shentian She?”

 

“You really don’t know anything, young master?!” Feng Yu glared at him irritably. “Even I know—Xiezhi Sect people are called cold-faced, cold-hearted living King Yamas who carry out Heaven’s punishment. The reason is that to enter Xiezhi Sect, you must undergo three hours of training in the Shentian She illusion realm.”

 

Shentian She was an illusion realm containing countless criminal cases judged by Xiezhi Sect.

 

Tragic people who made grave mistakes, utterly evil people who escaped punishment—all sorts of situations existed.

 

Only by completely disregarding personal emotions in the illusion and correctly determining right from wrong, executing the guilty, could one enter Xiezhi Sect. It was said some would even place real death row prisoners inside for trainees to personally execute.

 

Xi Jue looked confused: “But it’s only three hours. Half a day—even killing one person shouldn’t make him like this, right?”

 

“You’re stupid.” Feng Yu kicked him. “Time flows differently in Shentian She. Three hours in the outside world equals seven days in the illusion!”

 

Cultivators who endured seven days in Shentian She typically emerged as cold, emotionless killing gods who only knew black and white, right and wrong.

 

 

“But Sheng Jiao stayed less than an hour before fleeing the illusion in a sorry state.” Heng Yudu said. “His heart was too soft. He couldn’t determine absolute right from wrong and would only act on emotion.”

 

Xi Jue pressed: “Then what?”

 

Heng Yudu said gently: “The Sheng family felt he had disgraced them, so they forcibly threw him into the Shentian She illusion for…”

 

He paused, seeming to find it cruel, and said softly: “…two months.”

 

Xi Jue silently drew in a sharp breath.

 

Feng Yu didn’t react at first, counting on his fingers for a long time before saying in horror: “Five years?!”

 

Heng Yudu: “Shh!”

 

Feng Yu covered his mouth, his face full of terror.

 

Heng Yudu whispered: “He was sent to Tianyan Academy just half a month after coming out of Shentian She. Everyone says his consciousness hasn’t emerged from the illusion yet. Even if he killed someone in the street, no one would dare do anything to him.”

 

Three hours in Shentian She was already the limit, let alone a full two months.

 

No wonder he was emotionless and cold as ice.

 

Feng Yu clutched his heart, stammering: “I always knew the Sheng family people were very *sigh*, but I didn’t expect them to be so *sigh*, *sigh*, damn *sigh*!”

 

Xi Jue still remembered Feng Yu kicking him earlier and suddenly extended his leg to kick back, saying irritably: “This is common knowledge—how do you also not know anything?”

 

“I just love hearing entertainment. I don’t like hearing such depressing, frustrating things.” Feng Yu snorted and kicked back. “If I were Sheng Jiao, I would have used Tianyan pearls to strike down that whole Sheng family! Such satisfying business is the entertainment I love!”

 

The two kicked at each other under Heng Yudu’s desk.

 

Across from them, Sheng Jiao sat quietly, as if completely out of place with the entire world.

 

Xi Jue inadvertently glanced at him, his eyes moving slightly.

 

Before nightfall, Xi Jue, who feared walking at night, returned early to his quarters.

 

He usually slept early, going to bed as soon as it got dark, but today he tossed and turned in his blankets, unable to sleep.

 

Sometimes it was Sheng Jiao’s withered eyes, sometimes Heng Yudu’s words “two months,” making his head ache.

 

After an unknown time, Xi Jue suddenly heard footsteps outside his window with sharp ears.

 

The window was half-open, the courtyard’s candlelight flickering warmly, but there was no one there.

 

Xi Jue was puzzled when his nose caught a faint osmanthus fragrance, seemingly carried by wind from outside.

 

Probably blown from across the way.

 

Xi Jue snorted, not wanting to smell his osmanthus fragrance. He got out of bed barefoot to close the window.

 

But just as he reached the window, he suddenly froze.

 

—On the narrow window frame was a freshly picked osmanthus branch.

 

Xi Jue puzzledly picked up the osmanthus branch with his fingers, rotating it slightly.

 

The sweet osmanthus fragrance brushed his face like the last gentle spring breeze before late autumn.

 

***

 

Xi Jianlan drowsily reached out and nearly knocked over a porcelain vase on the small table.

 

The subtle vibration of porcelain and wood colliding and swaying precariously woke him directly.

 

“Mm…”

 

Xi Jianlan opened sleepy eyes, instinctively steadying the porcelain vase. His hand felt itchy, as if a small insect had landed on it.

 

The slight sensation fully awakened Xi Jianlan. Though he was down and out now, years of pampered habits made him want to keep himself clean and presentable at all times, decent enough not to feel ashamed when meeting old friends.

 

Xi Jianlan thought his place had gotten so dirty it was growing insects. Before shame and embarrassment could arise, he looked down with tingling scalp.

 

—Two beautiful osmanthus flowers had fallen on the back of his hand.

 

The porcelain vase his five fingers supported contained fresh water with a newly broken osmanthus branch inserted at an angle, simple and elegant.

 

Day had broken. Morning sunlight streamed through the stone lattice window, honey-like light casting the osmanthus branch’s shadow diagonally across Xi Jianlan’s well-defined fingers.

 

Xi Jianlan stared blankly for a long while.

 

Suddenly, the clinic door was heavily knocked open. Feng Yu rushed in urgently, chattering at him non-stop.

 

Xi Jianlan touched his ear and found the ear ornament was still there, but Feng Yu was only moving his mouth without sound. His heart skipped a beat.

 

Oh no, had the magical device for hearing all things really broken?

 

Xi Jianlan reacted quickly, instinctively reading Feng Yu’s lip movements and saw him say:

 

“…How are you still sleeping? Heaven above, that little girl is about to single-handedly annihilate our entire Zhuxing Zhai. Go take a look!”

 

Xi Jianlan was stunned: “Huh?”

 

Feng Yu was talking about Qin Banban.

 

Early that morning, Heng Yudu had been pushed by Feng Yu to find Qin Banban, planning to tell her about the “Third Watch Snow” Xiangwen and bring her to Tianyan Academy for placement, lest any more trouble arise.

 

Children without family background who awakened Xiangwen often met extremely tragic ends without protection.

 

Just before dawn, the lively little girl had gotten up to make pastries and open her shop.

 

Upon hearing Heng Yudu’s words, she stared blankly for a long time as if hearing heavenly scriptures, then smiled and wrapped several pastries for him: “For big brother to eat, no charge.”

 

“Thank you.” Heng Yudu thanked her gently. “Do you believe me?”

 

Qin Banban said: “I don’t believe you. Leave after eating.”

 

Heng Yudu: “…”

 

Heng Yudu frowned: “You have indeed awakened Xiangwen. The snow disaster in Wuyin City a few days ago was caused by your ‘Third Watch Snow.’ Come with me to Tianyan Academy and you’ll be part of the immortal sect from now on.”

 

Girls this age were usually vain, but Qin Banban wore a faded, worn dress. Hardship seemed not to have affected her disposition.

 

She propped her chin and smiled: “You’re making up stories to trick me, just wanting to mooch pastries like Brother Lan. I gave you pastries, now hurry and leave.”

 

Heng Yudu: “…”

 

How many lies had Xi Jianlan told over the years to make this little girl so wary?!

 

Heng Yudu tried explaining to her repeatedly.

 

Qin Banban finally got angry: “Brother Lan told me not to trust anyone, especially people talking about Xiangwen! Are you trying to kidnap me and sell me to some remote mountain valley to be someone’s concubine?!”

 

Heng Yudu: “…No, no, no.”

 

“Then hurry up and leave.” Qin Banban glared at him. “I listen to Brother Lan and won’t go anywhere.”

 

Heng Yudu asked gently: “When did your Brother Lan tell you this?”

 

“Several days ago.” Qin Banban looked at him warily, finding him increasingly strange.

 

Affected by her emotions, the “Third Watch Snow” that had been stable in her meridians slowly released a cold spiritual power, silently surrounding Heng Yudu.

 

A crisp “crack” sound.

 

Heng Yudu looked up to see huge sharp ice spikes gradually forming above his head, precariously hanging as if they could fall and pierce him from head to toe at any moment.

 

Heng Yudu: “…”

 

This girl had such spiritual power even unconsciously—she would surely achieve great things in the future.

 

Except this future great achiever currently wanted to kill him.

 

When Xi Jianlan hurried over, Qin Banban’s pastry shop was already covered in frost, with icicles hanging from the eaves like cold sword blades pointing directly at Heng Yudu.

 

Xi Jianlan was startled: “Banban!”

 

Qin Banban, who had been fiercely glaring at Heng Yudu, instantly snapped back to herself. Seeing Xi Jianlan, she quickly ran over with a face full of grievance: “Brother Lan! Someone wants to kidnap me to be someone’s concubine!”

 

Heng Yudu: “…”

 

Xi Jianlan caught Qin Banban and said to Heng Yudu: “Tsk, didn’t expect you to be such a beast in human clothing.”

 

Heng Yudu said helplessly: “Stop fooling around.”

 

Qin Banban came to her senses, asking in confusion: “Brother, you know him?”

 

“Mm.” Xi Jianlan rubbed Qin Banban’s head, smiling: “Can there be frost, snow, and icicles in the height of summer? Silly girl, didn’t you notice something was wrong?”

 

Qin Banban was confused for a long time: “But why would I have Xiangwen? I’m just an ordinary person. Isn’t that something only young masters and misses from great families have?”

 

Xi Jianlan said: “What, you’re not happy?”

 

“I am happy.” Qin Banban said confusedly. “It just feels like I’m dreaming.”

 

Xi Jianlan smiled: “It’s not a dream. Pack your things and go with him to Tianyan Academy. Once you enter the immortal sect, no one will dare bully you anymore.”

 

Qin Banban nodded as if half-understanding: “Then I need to tell my father.”

 

Xi Jianlan’s smile paused.

 

Heng Yudu glanced at Xi Jianlan and decided to be the villain himself: “To enter our Tianyan Academy, you must sever ties with your past, including blood relatives.”

 

Qin Banban was stunned: “Huh?”

 

Heng Yudu said: “Are you willing?”

 

Qin Banban stared blankly at Xi Jianlan for a while, then said softly: “Okay.”

 

Heng Yudu finally breathed a sigh of relief: “Then go pack your things. You’ll come with me today.”

 

Qin Banban nodded and obediently went to the back courtyard.

 

Xi Jianlan seemed to notice something, nodded to Heng Yudu, and followed her.

 

In the shabby back courtyard of the pastry shop, Qin Banban packed her things with nimble hands and feet.

 

Actually, she had very little to pack. She had hardly bought a single new piece of clothing in her life—the clothes she usually wore were hand-me-downs from the neighbor girl.

 

After wandering around the large courtyard for a while, Qin Banban discovered she only had one wooden doll to take with her.

 

The little girl sat in the frost-covered courtyard holding the doll, staring blankly with vacant eyes.

 

Suddenly, two lines of tears unexpectedly slid from her eyes, dripping onto the wooden doll’s face.

 

Xi Jianlan, who had been watching from the side, gently walked over, knelt on one knee in front of her to wipe away her tears, saying softly: “Why are you crying? This is a good thing. Are you reluctant to leave your father?”

 

That made sense too—a twelve-year-old child being reluctant to leave family was natural.

 

—Even if her father was scum, they had depended on each other for so many years.

 

But unexpectedly, Qin Banban shook her head: “Though the mortal world and immortal sect are like two different worlds, those enlightened immortal lords who ascended must not be people who have lost their humanity. There shouldn’t be rules about severing ties with the mortal past.”

 

Xi Jianlan fell silent.

 

“Is he… dead?” Qin Banban murmured.

 

Xi Jianlan’s voice was light and soft: “Yes, he’s dead.”

 

Qin Banban was stunned for a while, then said blankly: “…I always knew that if he didn’t repent and continued gambling, sooner or later he would lose even his life at that small gambling table.”

 

The word “blood relative” was like shackles, pressing down on her thin body until she couldn’t breathe.

 

The small girl’s feet were stuck in a quagmire that seemed like a bottomless pit, madly devouring her no matter how she tried to fill it. On her shoulders were heavy chains she shouldn’t have had to bear. Every day of living was painful and difficult.

 

Qin Banban wanted to walk step by step toward the sunlight.

 

But she was too slow.

 

Completely unable to match the speed at which the abyss of darkness behind her devoured everything.

 

But suddenly one day, someone told her she no longer needed to drag along burdensome shackles. She was alone with unlimited prospects, and the road to the immortal sect was smooth and led straight to the clouds.

 

…But she was so used to suffering that she even feared her dirty footprints would soil that brocade road.

 

Qin Banban didn’t know whether to feel fortunate or sad.

 

“Good girl.” Xi Jianlan said gently. “Being fortunate is right, and being sad is also right. Whatever choice you make now is right.”

 

Qin Banban could no longer hold back and threw herself into his arms, wailing loudly.

 

“How did he die? Why did he die? He… he’s finally dead! Brother Lan, I’m scared.”

 

Xi Jianlan held her, unable to see what Qin Banban was saying.

 

He looked down at the thin, frail girl trembling from crying, as if seeing through her to some small shadow in the river of time.

 

After Qin Banban had a good cry and finally vented her emotions, she obediently followed Heng Yudu with just the wooden doll, her eyes red but no longer fierce like before.

 

Xi Jianlan: “Where else are you going?”

 

“I still need to pick up children from several families. I’ll probably return to Central State in about five days.” Heng Yudu said. “You and Sheng Jiao…”

 

Feng Yu said gloomily: “I think Sheng Jiao plans to take you back to Xiezhi Sect for strict supervision, but with your broken body… you should go to Medicine Sect and have Little Poison take a look at you.”

 

The two were talking at the same time, and Xi Jue didn’t know who to look at. His gaze flew around for a while before he simply said directly: “Don’t worry about my affairs. Go busy yourselves. We’ll meet again when I get to Central State.”

 

With that, afraid the two would notice something amiss, he strode quickly back to Shi’er Ju with long steps.

 

Heng Yudu hurriedly called out to stop him.

 

“Jianlan, ‘Exchange for Bright Moon’ is only effective on Sheng Jiao for ten days, possibly shorter. You know about this, right?”

 

Xi Jianlan was opening the door, turning sideways and inadvertently catching Heng Yudu speaking, but only clearly seeing the words “you know about this, right?”

 

“Dear mother, what matter?” But he couldn’t very well ask for details. Since Heng Yudu was always worrying about everything, it was probably some small matter he’d mentioned before, so he waved his hand.

 

“I know, Old Mother Heng is getting more and more nagging—Banban, listen well to this old mother. I’ll come find you at Tianyan Academy in a few days.”

 

Qin Banban nodded obediently.

 

Only then did Xi Jianlan close the door, staring thoughtfully at the osmanthus branch on the small table.

 

Ying Zhuo knew who the real culprit behind the Xi family massacre six years ago was. No matter how much he feared Xiezhi Sect, he ultimately had to make a trip to Central State to follow this hard-won clue and investigate the truth of that year.

 

He just didn’t know if this journey would be safe and sound.

 

As he was thinking, a osmanthus fragrance suddenly drifted from beside him.

 

Xi Jianlan turned his head to look.

 

Sheng Jiao was standing there at some unknown time, his back to the light, his cold gaze like a frigid prison. Just looking over coldly made Xi Jianlan feel he had nowhere to escape.

 

“Ahem.” This person was no longer the same as before and wouldn’t be easily fooled. Xi Jianlan skillfully put on a smile and greeted him: “Did Sect Master Sheng sleep well last night?”

 

Sheng Jiao stared at him coldly for a while before suddenly parting his lips.

 

Xi Jianlan’s gaze fell on his mouth.

 

Since reuniting with Sheng Jiao, this mouth seemed to only call his name.

 

Called his name when angry, called his name when indifferent too.

 

Xi Jianlan was guessing what he would say—would it be about “Third Watch Snow,” or the real culprit behind the Xi family massacre, or about last night…

 

Wait, what happened last night? Why was his mind completely blank?

 

Xi Jianlan was thinking when he finally saw Sheng Jiao speak.

 

“Your ears… what’s wrong with them?”

 

Xi Jianlan was stunned.

 

##

 

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1 Kofi = 1 Extra Chapter