Moonlight spilled over the bamboo grove. The surroundings were so quiet that the only sound was the wind whispering through the leaves.
Ji Zhaoxi lay buried beneath her blankets, tossing and turning restlessly.
How was Senior Brother’s wound?
He lived in the courtyard next to hers, but ever since what happened last time, they had barely spoken.
Ji Zhaoxi felt a dull heaviness in her chest. She knew that Senior Brother had acted that way because of his heart demon, but she still couldn’t help feeling awkward.
In the end, she picked up the Swordheart Stone and decided to go to the bamboo grove to practice.
Creak—
The courtyard gate groaned open. Ji Zhaoxi looked up, and her body instantly went rigid.
Beneath an old pine tree not far away, Wen Shubai stood with his back to her. He was still wearing that moon-white daoist robe, and the moonlight stretched his shadow long across the ground, making him look unbearably lonely.
Hearing the sound, Wen Shubai turned around. Their gazes collided, and the air froze.
The exhaustion in Wen Shubai’s eyes had yet to fade. The moment he saw Ji Zhaoxi, his tightly drawn jaw trembled slightly.
“Junior Sister.” His voice was a little hoarse, breaking the silence.
“Senior Brother, you haven’t gone to sleep either?” Ji Zhaoxi asked softly.
Wen Shubai was silent for a while before answering in a low voice. He didn’t dare meet her eyes again, allowing his gaze to rest only on the ends of her hair, gently tousled by the wind.
Last time, in his room, he had nearly—
His overwhelming desire and crazed possessiveness after losing control to his heart demon still lingered in his blood. It made him feel utterly despicable.
The two of them stood a short distance apart, making halting conversation.
“Senior Brother, does your wound still hurt?” Ji Zhaoxi nudged a pebble with her foot.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Wen Shubai replied softly.
“Oh.”
The atmosphere fell silent again.
Wen Shubai lowered his eyes. His voice was filled with bitterness. “Junior Sister, I’m sorry. For everything that happened before… and for overstepping with you last time. I’m sorry.”
Ji Zhaoxi froze for a moment. She remembered the hot breath against her ear and coughed awkwardly. “It’s all right, Senior Brother.”
Curious, she asked, “Senior Brother, what exactly is your heart demon?”
It had been frighteningly powerful.
Wen Shubai’s breath caught.
His face paled slightly, and his voice trembled faintly. “It’s nothing more than some old history.”
He looked at Ji Zhaoxi bathed in moonlight. She appeared to have just gotten out of bed, a faint red mark still visible on her face. Her eyes were bright, and every so often, she would glance at him.
At that moment, Wen Shubai desperately wanted to reach out and embrace her. But things were different now…
His hand curled inside his sleeve, his fingertips turning white from restraint. In the end, he merely took half a step forward. He still didn’t pull her into his arms.
They stood side by side, an agitated heat spreading through the air between them.
They talked about the Swordheart Stone, then the red fruit on the mountain behind the sect, then the cranes, and finally the fish in Tianjue Sect’s pond.
“That crane’s call is a little unpleasant,” Ji Zhaoxi murmured.
Wen Shubai’s throat tightened. “The other crane sounds better. Junior Sister, I’ll take you to hear it next time.”
“Mm.”
Neither of them knew what else to talk about. They simply didn’t want to leave, so they continued chatting about these trivial things.
They stood very close. The slightest movement caused their arms to brush lightly against each other.
Every time they touched, both their bodies stiffened, yet neither of them moved away. They allowed the contact, warm with their shared body heat, to continue.
What made them most flustered was when their hands hung at their sides.
Their conversation came in fits and starts, their voices mingling with the breeze.
Tap.
The back of Ji Zhaoxi’s hand accidentally bumped against Wen Shubai’s knuckles. His hand was scorching hot, and her fingers instinctively curled inward.
Wen Shubai didn’t pull away. In fact, when their hands brushed again, he discreetly slowed his breathing and let the back of his hand remain pressed against hers.
An ambiguous tension filled the air, completely enveloping the two of them.
After returning to her room, Ji Zhaoxi closed the door and happily rolled around on her bed several times.
She and Senior Brother had made up!
Meanwhile, beneath the moon, Wen Shubai remained beneath the tree for a long time. He stared at the back of his hand where she had brushed against him, his heart pounding rapidly.
Early the next morning, Ji Zhaoxi joined the other disciples for training.
That afternoon, she followed the other elders in spirit cultivation training.
She didn’t see Wen Shubai the entire day.
As soon as afternoon training ended, Ji Zhaoxi hurried over and stopped the Second Elder, who was rubbing his oversized belly.
“Second Elder, do you know where Senior Brother went?”
The Second Elder had eaten far too much, and his face was pale. He waved his hand. “Miss Ji, if you don’t know, how would I?”
Ji Zhaoxi frowned at him, unable to understand what he meant.
The entire Tianjue Sect was bathed in the glow of sunset. Ji Zhaoxi searched for a long time before finally finding Wen Shubai in the bamboo grove behind the mountain.
He was sitting cross-legged on a blue-gray stone deep within the grove, meditating. A wild surge of sword energy swirled around him. The remnants of the heart demon from yesterday’s Path of Inquiry were still rampaging through his meridians.
Ji Zhaoxi watched him for a while before turning her gaze to the Chongli Sword lying on the ground. A faint aura of spiritual energy radiated from it.
She lightly touched the sword.
Suddenly, the Chongli Sword began to tremble violently.
In an instant, Ji Zhaoxi was pulled by a gentle force into a vast, snow-white sea of consciousness.
She had assumed she would see a scene of slaughter—or perhaps an abyss. But when she saw what lay before her, she froze.
At the center of the roiling sea of consciousness, Wen Shubai sat on an illusory bamboo couch, his long fingers clutching a pale-yellow dress.
He had long since shed the restrained mask he wore before others. With his head lowered, he was buried in the soft fabric, greedily drawing in the scent that lingered upon it.
His movements were slow, yet they revealed an intense possessiveness. His fingertips stroked the dress, his eyes hazy with desire.
This was an expression he had never shown Ji Zhaoxi before—fixated, frenzied, and filled with deep yearning.
Separated by the sea of consciousness, Ji Zhaoxi could still feel that viscous emotion. It followed the spiritual energy and burned all the way to her fingertips.
Smack!
The Swordheart Stone suddenly fell to the ground.
The link between their consciousnesses broke at once.
Wen Shubai’s eyes flew open on the blue-gray stone. His eyes were bloodshot, and a trace of unspent desire still lingered in them.
His gaze stopped on Ji Zhaoxi, who stood nearby with her face flushed scarlet.
The air froze completely.
Wen Shubai’s hand trembled. For a moment, he didn’t know whether he should hide it or lower it. His face visibly drained of color.
“Xixi…”
His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible, carrying an unmistakable note of humiliation and panic. “Junior Sister… it’s not what you think…”
He hadn’t expected his junior sister to come looking for him. He had only intended to purge the remnants of his heart demon.
He simply didn’t know why he had fallen into it once again.
