AVL Chapter 41.1

Sheng Jiao released his ankle and extended two fingers, condensing a wisp of Tianyan spiritual power to touch his forehead.

 

But Xi Jianlan tilted his head slightly, avoiding his hand.

 

“No.”

 

Sheng Jiao frowned: “It doesn’t hurt?”

 

“It’s bearable.” Xi Jianlan pulled the brocade quilt over himself, squinting lazily. “I’ll get through it.”

 

Sheng Jiao’s eyes darkened.

 

Whether intentional or not, Xi Jianlan always loved saying things that stabbed right at people’s hearts.

 

“Xiezhi Sect has Tianyan,” Sheng Jiao said. “Enough.”

 

Xi Jianlan smiled, pillowing his head on the osmanthus-patterned soft pillow and looking at Sheng Jiao with spring-like laziness, his voice slightly hoarse from just waking up.

 

“Sheng Jiao, if you could choose once, would you rather be an ordinary person, living leisurely for just a hundred years before turning to dust; or keep this spiritual-grade xiangwen, with boundless spiritual power and immortal life, but lose all seven emotions and six desires?”

 

In the hazy candlelight and moonlight, Xi Jianlan’s almost aggressive beauty was finally softened. His black hair was loose, and he nestled comfortably in the brocade, so relaxed that all his daytime pretense and sharpness had vanished.

 

Excessively gentle.

 

Sheng Jiao looked down at him, his stern face unmoved.

 

“That’s not possible.”

 

“But what if?” Xi Jianlan met his gaze in the dim light, murmuring: “If I didn’t have a spiritual-grade xiangwen, could I live this life mediocrely, like a mayfly born at dawn and dead by dusk?”

 

The narrow bed fell quiet, only their faint breathing audible.

 

Sheng Jiao suddenly asked: “Your xiangwen—what is it?”

 

This was the first time Sheng Jiao had asked this question since their reunion.

 

Xi Jianlan bit his lower lip hard, suppressing the wave-like surging desire in his meridians, laughing softly and muffledly.

 

Over the years, countless people had asked him this question. He’d either deflect with jokes or make up plausible-sounding xiangwen like “Incomplete Words” or “Half-Burn Incinerate” to brush them off.

 

No one had ever made him speak the truth.

 

Xi Jianlan was in so much pain that cold sweat beaded his forehead, yet he smiled like a flower, lowering his voice as if whispering sweet nothings to a lover: “I can only tell you that my xiangwen is the most useless and worthless of the thirteen xiangwen.”

 

Sheng Jiao was startled.

 

“But it ruined me.” Xi Jianlan spoke slowly and softly, still smiling. “I hate it so much, Sheng Jiao.”

 

Even when speaking of hatred, he seemed to wear a false mask that didn’t belong to him.

 

Seeing him in such pain, Sheng Jiao’s eyes grew heavy as he considered forcibly infusing Tianyan into him.

 

“Sometimes I even regret not letting ‘Endless Period’ devour it completely.” Xi Jianlan’s lashes lowered, his voice growing fainter, unclear whether he was falling asleep or simply losing consciousness, leaving behind a final murmur:

 

“If only there were no xiangwen… no, if only there were no Tianyan at all.”

 

Xi Jianlan’s face was half-hidden in the brocade quilt, his breathing even and weak.

 

In his conscious state, he’d rather suffer than accept Tianyan.

 

The golden Tianyan spiritual power at Sheng Jiao’s fingertips flickered for a long time before finally dissipating.

 

In his daze, Xi Jianlan felt the quilt being tucked around him, the scent of osmanthus mixed with frost slowly approaching. A gentle spiritual power containing no Tianyan gradually flowed into his spiritual platform, barely stopping the bone-deep pain and craving in his meridians.

 

That presence was too familiar and instinctively dependable.

 

Xi Jianlan instinctively reached out to touch it, but his wrist was suddenly caught by a hand.

 

Xi Jue looked back in confusion.

 

In the muddled dreamscape, Rang Chen in white robes hurriedly grabbed him, his hands flying rapidly as if trying to express something.

 

Xi Jue instinctively tried to read Rang Chen’s sign language.

 

“Stop” “ending” “will…”

 

“No…” Xi Jue suddenly turned away, covering his eyes and desperately walking forward—as if by not looking at Rang Chen’s hands, he could continue walking with a clear conscience. “I don’t want to see.”

 

He struggled forward step by step. The path that had originally led to light was forcibly blocked by “Glimpsing Heaven’s Secrets,” and the only ray of light gradually disappeared into the darkness.

 

 

Xi Jue desperately rushed toward the light source, but his feet seemed trapped in a quagmire, sinking deeper and deeper.

 

In the end, he could only watch helplessly as the last ray of light dissipated.

 

Rang Chen’s strange, hoarse voice came from behind like a death knell.

 

“Ajue, stop. Sheng Jiao… will… kill… you.”

 

Xi Jue stared blankly at the darkness that threatened to drown him, then suddenly broke down, covering his ears and crying out in anguish.

 

“Enough! Please, let me go… I don’t want to hear it!”

 

He didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to see.

 

“Glimpsing Heaven’s Secrets” was like an executioner’s blade hanging over his head.

 

Rang Chen was like the gentlest executioner, condemning him to death with a few light words, crushing him to pieces.

 

“I don’t want to hear it!”

 

The insatiable craving in his meridians caused Xi Jianlan to have a rare nightmare. He struggled desperately in the brocade quilt, trying to escape the voice echoing in his ears.

 

In his confusion, his earring was torn off, and the entire world fell into dead silence.

 

But the voice in his dream still shook his very soul.

 

With sight and hearing stripped away, only his sense of touch became more acute. He vaguely felt a pair of hands reach out from beside him, gently and clumsily embracing him.

 

In that instant, all of Xi Jianlan’s nightmares dispersed like smoke.

 

The brilliant sunset was like osmanthus mixed with honey, making him involuntarily want to immerse himself in it.

 

It seemed to rain in his dream.

 

He felt like a tender leaf on a branch—heavy rain pelting down, each drop making the leaf tremble;

 

Light drizzle like a dragonfly touching water, covering the branches and leaves with a thin mist.

 

Snow-white water droplets condensed into one, suddenly falling from the leaf tip.

 

Xi Jianlan sank and floated in a sea of desire.

 

After who knows how long, the hungry craving in his meridians finally slowly subsided, the fine, dense pain dissipated, and Xi Jianlan, buried in the osmanthus blossoms, fell into deep sleep.

 

The rain in his dream fell all night long.

 

***

 

Just a quarter past the Mao hour, before dawn had even broken, Xi Jianlan was awakened by knocking at the door.

 

In his dream, the leaf surnamed Xi had been battered by rain all night. When he woke, his whole body felt weak and tingly, groggily emerging from the brocade quilt.

 

Candles were lit, and Sheng Jiao was no longer on the bed.

 

Xi Jianlan rubbed his eyes, mumbling: “Who is it?”

 

Juan Xunfang’s voice came from outside, sounding like he was gritting his teeth: “The sect master told me to wake you up. It’s already a quarter past Mao hour.”

 

Xi Jianlan felt lazy all over and didn’t want to move: “Isn’t the riverboat at Chen hour? It’s still early. Let me sleep a bit more.”

 

Juan Xunfang knocked on the door again: “Stop sleeping. The sect master has already handled a pile of official business. What kind of behavior is this?”

 

“Lord Juan,” Xi Jianlan had just woken up and still had a nasal tone, whining: “The way you’re acting, I’d think I had a wedding night with your sect master last night, and you’re the evil mother-in-law who can’t stand her daughter-in-law sleeping in and has come to pick a fight.”

 

Mother-in-law Juan: “???”

 

Juan Xunfang raged: “Xi Jue!”

 

After teasing Juan Xunfang, Xi Jianlan lost interest in sleeping more and got up yawning.

 

He had a pile of clothes in his storage ring and was about to look for them when he noticed a set of warm yellow robes placed by his pillow.

 

Xi Jianlan picked them up curiously and discovered they were the set he’d forgotten at Sheng Jiao’s place six years ago.

 

When they were at Tianyan Academy, they loved visiting each other’s rooms, and even when they grew older, Xi Jue would often climb over walls to find Sheng Jiao at the Sheng family estate, naturally leaving clothes scattered about—after all, Young Master Xi was a big spender back then and was too lazy to look for a mere set of robes.

 

This outfit had been specially made by the prestigious Xi family and was practically a protective artifact. After six years, it was still spotless.

 

Xi Jianlan raised an eyebrow slightly and tried the clothes on.

 

He was silent for a while, then suddenly threw the priceless robes to the ground in frustration.

 

Why did clothes from six years ago still fit him perfectly after all this time?!

 

Xi Jianlan was furious.

 

But after struggling for a while, he reluctantly picked up the robes and put them on with great reluctance.

 

At least they could save his life at crucial moments.

 

As Xi Jianlan dressed, he muttered: “These clothes must have been made a size too big back then, which is why they fit so well now.”

 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t grown.

 

Yes, very reasonable.

 

Xi Jianlan deceived himself, then found one of Sheng Jiao’s Xiezhi Sect outer robes to put on, strolling out and opening the door.

 

Juan Xunfang saw him brazenly wearing the sect master’s outer robe, his expression complex. He decided to change the subject rather than dwell on it: “On this trip to the Southern Territory, can you really get useful information from Xi Minghuai’s old lover?”

 

“If we don’t go, the clues to the Xi family massacre will be cut off.” Xi Jianlan picked a cluster of osmanthus flowers and chewed them slowly, saying casually: “Without clues, your sect master’s Tianyan pearls might again determine that I’m the culprit behind the Xi family massacre.”

 

Juan Xunfang frowned: “The Tianyan pearls never make mistakes. They must have found some clue to determine your guilt.”

 

“Yes, yes, yes, right, right, right.” Xi Jianlan brushed him off. “Your sect master never makes mistakes. How could Lord Heaven’s Will be wrong? That would bring down divine punishment.”

 

Juan Xunfang: “……”

 

Juan Xunfang was so choked up he could barely speak, saying irritably: “Go to the front hall. The sect master had me prepare food for you.”

 

Xi Jianlan was stunned.

 

He hadn’t eaten much in several days, either nibbling on Qin Banban’s osmanthus cakes or directly eating osmanthus flowers. His body, comparable to a mortal’s, was sustained by fasting pills from last month. Though he didn’t feel hungry, he couldn’t help but crave food.

 

Arriving at the front hall and seeing the table full of mortal food, Xi Jianlan couldn’t tell whether Sheng Jiao was being thoughtful or developing tendencies toward becoming like old mother Heng.

 

—Back at Tianyan Academy, Heng Yudu would always get up early and wheel around, passing by the dining halls and buying all sorts of odds and ends to share with them.

 

Xi Jianlan looked in amazement at the dazzling array of items on the table, discovering they were all his favorites from back then.

 

“Thank you for your trouble,” Xi Jianlan said sincerely to Waiter Juan.

 

 

Juan Xunfang looked puzzled: “Why are you thanking me? The sect master bought all this himself.”

 

Xi Jianlan: “?”

 

Xi Jianlan’s first reaction wasn’t gratitude but shock: “How much did this cost?”

 

Did Sheng Jiao even have money?

 

Juan Xunfang: “……”

 

Juan Xunfang’s face turned green: “The sect master is at least the head of Xiezhi Sect—he’s not so poor he can’t afford a meal. Just eat quickly, all this food still can’t shut your mouth.”

 

For once, Xi Jianlan didn’t argue back, obediently saying “oh” and sitting down to eat slowly.

 

Juan Xunfang stood there like a pillar holding his sword, and from the corner of his eye saw Xi Jianlan’s head getting lower and lower as he ate, finally burying his face completely in his bowl. Through his uncombed black hair, Juan Xunfang could vaguely see his reddened ears.

 

What was wrong with him?

 

Juan Xunfang thought, was it really that delicious?

 

The Southern Territory was much farther than the Northern Territory, and with the need to find Xi Minghuai’s old lover and retrieve Yinhua Rao, the round trip would take at least ten days to half a month. Sheng Jiao had handled most of Xiezhi Sect’s affairs, and there were only two quarters of an hour left until Chen hour.

 

He summoned Winter Snow back to Qingche Zhu, only to find Xi Jianlan still eating in small bites.

 

Sheng Jiao frowned.

 

The table full of food hadn’t decreased much. Seeing Sheng Jiao return, Xi Jianlan quickly swallowed a mouthful of half-cold porridge.

 

“Don’t like it?” Sheng Jiao asked.

 

Xi Jianlan shook his head, his face pale: “Just not used to it.”

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)