Pei Du spent the entire night awake, attempting to circulate spiritual energy while lying in bed.
His internal injuries had yet to heal, and most of his meridians remained shattered. As the first wisp of spiritual energy slowly flowed into his meridians, his entire body felt like a tightly woven spiderweb, every thread pulling at him with excruciating pain.
When it came to pain, Pei Du had always possessed an extraordinary tolerance.
By the later hours of the night, the pain still hadn’t subsided, but fortunately, he gradually grew accustomed to it, suppressing the intense discomfort deep within.
When he opened his eyes again, it was already dawn the next day.
A series of knocks sounded at the door.
He could guess the identity of the visitor and responded softly with an "Mm," lifting his gaze to see a strikingly beautiful face.
Xie Jingci’s mood was complicated.
The reasons for this "complication" were many, but the most important one was the sudden notification from her system after her morning meditation.
The good news was that the flirtatious "Demon Sect Enchantress" persona had finally been replaced.
The bad news was that before she could even breathe a sigh of relief, its replacement was a vintage "green tea" archetype, exuding an aura of sickly-sweet innocence.
Xie Jingci was on the verge of a breakdown.
The Demon Sect Enchantress, though brazen, at least had the charm of a confident older sister—seductive and fitting of her personality.
But the "green tea" archetype was an entirely different beast!
As the saying went, the green tea archetype had three signature traits: coquettishness, fake tears, and the ever-present "It’s all my fault, but you’re so wonderful, big brother."
This behavioral pattern was already suffocating enough, but to make matters worse, this persona was just as shamelessly flirtatious as the Demon Sect Enchantress—so much so that the sheer "tea fragrance" could circle the Earth twice over.
Though Xie Jingci had once called Pei Du "Brother Pei Du" in front of the Pei family to save his face, both of them knew it was just an act. They had since avoided mentioning it in their interactions.
But what if, at some point, the persona suddenly took over, and she ended up calling him "big brother" in that sickly-sweet tone while they were alone?
Xie Jingci would jump out the window on the spot.
So, visiting Pei Du this morning had required immense resolve.
Jumping out the window be damned—she still had to coax him properly.
"Jiang Tu is coming to Wucheng today. I heard the parade will start soon."
Pei Du seemed to have just woken up, still looking frail. She pointed outside the window. "Do you want to go see it?"
Pei Du was about to reply "Yes," but before he could, he caught Xie Jingci looking at him with a fleeting, barely suppressed smile.
Noticing that her amusement had been detected, she turned her head away and coughed lightly.
Miss Xie was far from the type to smile at him for no reason—Pei Du was self-aware enough to know that. It took him a long moment before he belatedly raised his right hand and touched the top of his head.
His hair was completely disheveled, sticking out in every direction like a ransacked bird’s nest.
He had tossed and turned all night before finally sitting up to meditate, never bothering to tidy his appearance.
Pei Du: "..."
He was an idiot. He wanted to die. He just prayed that Miss Xie would stop looking—and stop laughing at him.
Xie Jingci pressed her lips together to hide her smile, stealing glances at him from the corner of her eye.
Back at the academy, if she was the embodiment of rebelliousness, Young Master Pei was the epitome of restraint and discipline—always immaculate, every strand of hair in place, exuding an air of refined elegance.
He must have realized what had made her laugh, because his usual composure was replaced by rare embarrassment and bewilderment, his hand still hovering over his hair.
Pei Du’s hair was a deep, rich black, usually smooth and soft against his head—so soft that it looked pleasant to touch. But now, it was sticking out in all directions, framing his pale face like silk draped over white jade.
And that jade-like face was tinged with a faint red.
She couldn’t help but laugh again.
So silly.
Was this really the same "Swordlight of the Academy," the undefeated prodigy who had once swept through every opponent with his blade?
By the time Pei Du finished straightening his hair with forced dignity, the parade was about to begin.
The streets were already packed with crowds eager to catch a glimpse of the Nascent Soul realm expert. Miss Xie seemed unusually talkative today, chattering nonstop as she led him out of the inn.
"I bought a copy of The Chronicles of Jiang Tu last night. After reading it, I have to admit—he’s quite impressive."
The streets were lined with onlookers. Xie Jingci kept walking until they reached a small pond, where the crowd finally thinned.
She glanced toward the end of the street but saw no sign of movement yet, so she continued patiently.
"Jiang Tu came from humble beginnings—just the youngest son of a poor family. But he had extraordinary talent and an iron will. He climbed his way up from a martial arts apprentice, eventually defeating the previous city lord and seizing control of Wucheng and several other towns."
The Ghost Realm operated on the principle of "might makes right." No matter one’s status or reputation, everything had to be taken by force.
This was also why Jiang Tu could act so ruthlessly without consequence.
His own strength was formidable, and after rising to power, the cultivation resources at his disposal became endless. His cultivation advanced rapidly, placing him far above the masses. And ever since Fu Chaosheng’s failed assassination attempt, the city lord had surrounded himself with three Nascent Soul realm experts as personal bodyguards.
No matter how much the common people resented him, there was nothing they could do.
"Look over there! Something’s happening!"
Someone in the crowd suddenly shouted. Xie Jingci turned her gaze and, even from a distance, could feel the oppressive aura rolling toward them.
The black-clad man on horseback had a tall, imposing figure and sharp, handsome features. Beneath his sword-like brows were piercing amber eyes, keen as an eagle’s.
As the undisputed ruler of Wucheng, Jiang Tu exuded a blade-like ferocity—an overwhelming presence that crushed the air around him, dense and suffocating.
This was the man Fu Chaosheng had once challenged.
Fifteen years later, he had only grown stronger.
Xie Jingci’s eyes darkened.
She had a premonition that she would soon face this man in battle—but at her current level, she stood no chance against him.
Jiang Tu’s gaze remained fixed ahead, never sparing the crowd so much as a glance.
Yet even so, the sheer pressure radiating from him left many frozen in place.
"Someone’s finally staying in the Moonview Pavilion down south," someone muttered after Jiang Tu’s figure disappeared down the street. "We slaved away day and night to build it, only for him to stay there twice in decades. What a waste."
Another voice immediately hushed them. "Keep it down! Don’t you know his senses are superhuman? If he hears you, you’re dead!"
What a tyrant.
Xie Jingci sighed inwardly and cast one last glance in the direction Jiang Tu had gone. Just as she turned to leave, she accidentally bumped into someone behind her.
It was only a light brush of shoulders, but before she could react, she heard something splash into the pond—followed by an enraged shout.
"Ow! Are you blind? You just ruined my brand new—"
The voice cut off abruptly.
Pei Du stepped forward to shield her. Though his spiritual energy was faint, the sword aura he had accumulated over the years remained sharp and deadly, surging forth the moment the man began hurling insults, forcing him to swallow his words.
It was during this brief pause that Xie Jingci got a clear look at the man.
A young man, seemingly dressed in finery—a wealthy young master.
Her hearing was sharp, and she caught whispers from the crowd: "It’s that troublemaker Jin Xiao again… With Jiang Tu in town, how dare he still harass innocent girls?"
Jin Xiao.
Wen Miaorou had mentioned that the Jin family was Jiang Tu’s biggest informant in Wucheng.
Xie Jingci wasn’t foolish. From the tone of that remark, she could tell this was a notorious wastrel with a terrible reputation.
Their collision had been slight, far from painful, and since she had been standing with her back turned, it was obvious Jin Xiao had deliberately bumped into her.
Curious about his next move, she gently pressed Pei Du’s shoulder, signaling him not to intervene.
The sharp sword aura hovered in the air for a moment, hesitating.
Xie Jingci asked, "What did you just buy?"
"You knocked my newly purchased jade pendant into the pond! It’s so vast—how am I supposed to find it now?"
Xie Jingci glanced down. The pond was filled with murky green water; who could tell whether what had sunk was jade or a mere stone?
This young master of the Jin family had pitifully weak cultivation—she could easily send his head flying with a single slap. But given his family’s formidable influence, a direct confrontation was unwise.
Xie Jingci, appearing delicate and demure, only emboldened him further: "Fifty thousand demon crystals—can you even afford to pay?"
Jin Xiao paused, glancing at Pei Du behind her, then at his own burly guards, before puffing up his chest. "But since you’re quite pretty, if you can’t pay, I wouldn’t mind alternative methods—"
Pei Du’s sword aura flared violently.
"Easy now, stay calm."
She chuckled softly, pressing her fingers lightly against the back of his cold hand, transmitting her words through spiritual energy: "If we fight, we’ll lose. Stay here and watch."
After a brief pause, Xie Jingci lifted her gaze to meet Jin Xiao’s, her voice suddenly trembling with pitiful distress: "R-really? Where did it fall?"
A bystander, unable to bear it, whispered to her through spiritual transmission: "Miss, this is his usual trick! He preys on newcomers, tossing a stone into the water to leave you defenseless!"
"Where else could it have fallen?"
Jin Xiao, sensing an easy target, smirked and turned, pointing toward the edge of the pond. "The moment I loosened my grip, it slipped right down—it must be around here—"
This was the third time he’d been cut off mid-sentence.
Or rather, ever since meeting Xie Jingci, he hadn’t once managed to finish a single thought.
The moment he turned and raised his foot, an unseen force seemed to nudge his ankle.
The change came without warning. Jin Xiao’s smug expression froze forever in that final instant.
Then came a loud splash.
A guard cried out in panic, "Young master has fallen into the water!"
"Sir!"
Xie Jingci, too, feigned shock and terror, trembling like any frightened damsel in distress.
But soon, a glimmer of determination flashed in her eyes. "Don’t be afraid, sir—I can swim!"
Her actions were swift. Before the words had fully left her lips, she had already taken a step forward.
Seeing her dive in, the guards halted their own rescue efforts.
The winter pond was icy, but Xie Jingci didn’t fully submerge herself. Instead, she floated atop the water with spiritual energy, scanning the surface as she moved, calling out with exaggerated concern, "Sir, where are you? Sir?"
Those watching saw clearly what she, in her "frantic" state, could not.
The "heroic" young woman paced along the pond’s edge, her voice trembling with urgency, nearly breaking into sobs.
Yet what she couldn’t see—and what the crowd did—was that with nearly every step she took… her foot came down squarely on Jin Xiao’s struggling, bobbing head!
His face, twisted in fury and disbelief, surfaced intermittently, drenched in water—or perhaps tears—as Xie Jingci’s movements sent him bobbing up and down like a buoy.
By the time Xie Jingci "rescued" him, Jin Xiao was a shivering, sodden mess.
Furious, he roared, "You wretch! You stepped on me! I’ll have my father throw you in prison!"
Xie Jingci shrank back in fear, her voice quivering. "I-I only wanted to save you! I saw ripples there and thought… thought you were there! It’s all my fault, sir, I’m so sorry!"
She looked utterly pitiful, coughing lightly into her hand as if chilled by the icy water and wind.
A sympathetic voice murmured, "Don’t blame yourself, miss. This isn’t your fault. Jin Xiao set a trap, yet you still risked yourself to save him. You’re too kind."
Xie Jingci sniffled.
"But," someone whispered to their companion, "if not for her, wouldn’t he have drowned?"
"Exactly! He’s alive thanks to her, and now he’s throwing a tantrum? How heartless."
"Shut up!" Jin Xiao was livid. "I can swim!"
"I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. If only I’d known you could swim…"
Xie Jingci covered her face, her voice breaking with melodramatic sorrow. "It’s not your fault, sir—it’s mine! If I hadn’t been so reckless, this wouldn’t have happened… I’m so useless, wuuu!"
Her performance was flawless—delicate, tearful, even adding a trembling, tea-scented sob at the end for effect.
Unfortunately, the simple folk of the ghost realm had yet to encounter the concept of "artificially brewed green tea." The sight of her distress stirred overwhelming sympathy, pushing the scene to its peak.
And given their longstanding grievances against the Jin family, even if they suspected Xie Jingci’s mischief, they chose to ignore it entirely.
"She was just trying to help—must you be so petty?"
"Publicly shaming your savior? Disgraceful."
"Ah, the Jin family. Say no more—we all know how they are."
Jin Xiao, born into privilege and accustomed to looking down on the world, had spent his life infuriating others. Never had he imagined the tables would turn so spectacularly today, leaving him seething at these "peasants."
Rabble!
Though the Jin family’s reputation was in tatters, they still cared about appearances. Underhanded deeds like bullying the weak had to be done discreetly.
But now, with the crowd swelling around the pond, any further aggression toward this "helpless" woman would destroy what little dignity the Jin name had left.
And with the Ghost Gate’s opening imminent, Jiang Tu himself overseeing Wucheng, causing a scene now would only bring trouble.
The face of his sworn enemy was right before him, and Jin Xiao had already beaten her up eighty-one times in his mind. But when he looked up, he found he couldn’t hit her—nor could he even curse at her.
Young Master Jin stomped his feet in fury: "You ruffians! You damn ruffians!"
Xie Jingci: "Young Master, go ahead and scold me. Though I saved your life, I know it can never make up for that one moment of carelessness..."
Jin Xiao: I—!!!
Green tea was truly wonderful—fragrant to the smell, and even more delightful when tasted firsthand.
Xie Jingci wiped away fake tears while putting on a pitiful act, thanking the onlookers with phrases like "You’re all so kind" and "I’ll be fine." Not long ago, she had kicked Jin Xiao’s head like a soccer ball, yet now she effortlessly played the role of a helpless victim, earning everyone’s sympathy.
Even if these people harbored ill intentions, she had played the villain in ten different worlds, mastering ten distinct styles of villainy. When it came to infuriating others, no one could outmatch her.
Being the "light of righteousness" was boring. The truly fun thing was using a villain to defeat another villain.
Nothing pleased her more than watching others seethe with rage, powerless to do anything about it.
Pure satisfaction—both body and soul reveled in it.
As Jin Xiao was carried away by his guards, still cursing up a storm, Xie Jingci was comforted by the uncles, aunties, and passersby before leaving the pondside with Pei Du.
"So?" She couldn’t stop laughing. "Wasn’t that way more fun than just beating him up?"
Pei Du’s voice was muffled: "I still want to beat him up."
After a pause, he finally cracked a smile. "Miss Xie is impressive."
"Of course."
Xie Jingci kicked a pebble on the roadside, her tone light and cheerful. "There are so many things in this world that can bring you joy. Don’t just focus on your sword all the time, got it?"
She suddenly stopped walking and thrust a long wooden slip into Pei Du’s hands.
"This came as a free gift when I bought The Legend of Jiang Tu at the bookstore—here, it’s for you."
She shoved it into his grasp without waiting for a response, then stiffly turned her head away, feigning nonchalance. "Back at the academy, I got one from you once. Remember?"
Many books came with these wooden slips, each inscribed with random blessings.
Back when they were younger, a childish game had taken the academy by storm: arranging several slips in a row and letting friends "draw" one for luck.
During the year-end exams, Xie Jingci had run into Pei Du in the hallway. He’d been holding five slips, and upon seeing her, he hesitated before suddenly speaking up: "Miss Xie, I have these left—no one’s taken them yet. Would you like to try?"
She’d picked one at random, thanked him, and they’d parted ways with polite nods.
Xie Jingci remembered it clearly—the words on that slip: [Let me stay by your side.]
Rumor had it that this phrase was the rarest, almost impossible to find among the slips. But no matter how precious or uncommon, it was just a random little flirtation. She’d laughed it off back then.
Pei Du took a quiet, shallow breath and looked down at the slip in his hand.
The calligraphy was elegant, yet lacked a certain liveliness. But when his gaze landed on it, he didn’t see the neat, standard script he’d expected.
On the slip Xie Jingci had given him, bold, sweeping strokes formed words he’d never seen before:
[May your future be bright, and your dreams sweet tonight.]
Below that, in smaller but equally spirited handwriting:
[Don’t be upset, okay? =^▽^=]
Pei Du pressed his lips together and glanced up at her, just slightly.
Xie Jingci was still looking away. Sensing his gaze, she muttered stiffly, "It’s really cold today."
In the biting winter air, the tall, slender young man silently lowered his head.
A gust of wind swept past, tousling strands of his dark hair. Snowflakes drifted down, melting against the flushed tips of his ears, staining them a faint, delicate pink.
Pei Du murmured, "I’m not upset."
Xie Jingci huffed. "You’d better not turn into an ungrateful brat."
He chuckled softly.
She actually remembered that slip from back then. Pei Du had assumed she’d forget it quickly.
But it had been a secret he’d never voiced aloud.
He and Miss Xie hadn’t attended the same academy—they only crossed paths during the year-end exams.
Pei Du was used to training day and night with his sword, yet in the days leading up to the exams, he’d skipped class and scoured multiple bookstores, spending his saved spirit stones on stacks of useless novels.
The blessings on the slips were randomized. He’d checked each one meticulously, going through great effort until he finally gathered them all.
Then, he’d waited in the hallway Miss Xie always passed through, pretending it was just a coincidence.
It hadn’t been chance. Nor had it been some twist of fate.
Every single one of those five slips had carried the same words:
[Let me stay by your side.]
