◎Yan Luoyue: "You're out of luck—today happens to be my birthday."◎
Just as Ji Qinghong's expression returned to calm, an unexpected interruption occurred.
A flash of pink light flickered at Yan Luoyue’s waist as the exotic flame "Falling Petals in a Blizzard" surged out from the grass-woven pixiu like a siphon.
The little flame fluttered gracefully onto the table before plunging headfirst into the ink-wash-colored Wuti Flame’s offshoot with a suicidal ferocity!
"Eh?"
This time, not only Ji Qinghong but even Yan Luoyue’s expression changed.
Neither master nor disciple had the leisure to mock the other—only Wu Manshuang sat quietly to the side, observing their reactions with perfect clarity.
Years later, Wu Manshuang would create a hanging scroll titled Wu Manshuang Observing, immortalizing this extraordinary historical moment.
Someone once asked him: "Who’s the surprised little girl on the left side of the painting?"
"That’s Luoyue."
"And the white-haired, crimson-eyed man on the right with the strange, roguish expression?"
"That’s my shizun."
"In that case, where’s Wu Manshuang?"
"—Wu Manshuang is observing."
In any case, the appearance of Pinky (Falling Petals in a Blizzard) took both Yan Luoyue and Ji Qinghong completely by surprise.
Especially when the little flame aggressively hurled itself into the ink-colored heart of the fire. Ji Qinghong shook his head, wearing an expression that seemed to say, This one’s defective—time to make a new one.
"Hmm, this is your exotic flame?"
Yan Luoyue held her breath, intently watching the clash between the two flames. Too preoccupied to speak, she merely hummed in acknowledgment.
Ji Qinghong sighed dramatically. "It’s a lost cause. Get a new one."
Coincidentally, Yan Luoyue had just unboxed an offshoot of the Wuti Flame—this one would make a fine replacement.
After all, the Wuti Flame was the progenitor of all flames.
Under normal circumstances, any flame that came into contact with it would be absorbed effortlessly, like a drop of water merging into the sea.
Of course, exceptions existed—like the Hongtong Palace’s method of reversing the process, siphoning the essence of the Wuti Flame to empower their own exotic flames.
But Ji Qinghong watched in disbelief as Yan Luoyue’s little flame, as if bewitched, threw itself into the Wuti Flame’s offshoot in a suicidal charge!
By the time their conversation ended, the battle between the two flames was still raging.
The ink-wash flame had been sealed within the map for ages, while Pinky had been carried around by Yan Luoyue, frequently fed with refining materials for practice.
But Falling Petals in a Blizzard was only the size of a peach petal.
Meanwhile, the ink-wash flame was dozens of times larger—a slender streak, roughly the size of a young white crane.
Each flame had its strengths and weaknesses, resulting in a deadlock.
For a while, Yan Luoyue’s vision was filled with a flurry of ink-black and pink sparks.
The two flames tangled together, pink entwined with black, black embracing pink. They rolled across the table from east to west, then west to east, locked in a fierce embrace.
So diligent, so earnest—like two clumsy chicks pecking at each other in a ridiculous squabble.
Yan Luoyue: "..."
The sight was so absurd that she covered one eye with her hand.
Ji Qinghong’s expression shifted from casual indifference to intense focus.
After observing the two flames wrestling for a while, he suddenly reached out and pried them apart, holding one in each hand.
Yan Luoyue instinctively moved to rescue Pinky.
But the ink-wash flame, witnessing her choice, shuddered violently in Ji Qinghong’s grip—like a black-and-white screen losing signal.
Ji Qinghong sighed and scolded Yan Luoyue on the flame’s behalf: "You’re so biased."
The ink-wash flame trembled emphatically, as if agreeing.
Yan Luoyue: "..."
Pinching Falling Petals in a Blizzard between his fingers, Ji Qinghong chuckled. "Where did you find this one?"
Given that it could hold its own against an offshoot of the Wuti Flame, the identity of this dainty pink ember was practically undeniable.
Yan Luoyue answered solemnly: "You might not believe me, but cats just crawl into cardboard boxes on their own."
And her Pinky? She’d lured it in with nothing more than a battered bamboo basket!
Ji Qinghong’s gem-like crimson eyes blinked twice as he studied Yan Luoyue, staring until the hairs on her neck stood on end. "...What is it, Shizun?"
Ji Qinghong feigned ignorance. "What’s your name?"
"...Yan Luoyue?"
He pointed to the side. "And his name?"
"...Wu Manshuang?"
"Good, good. How amusing."
Ji Qinghong nodded, chuckling softly before tossing both offshoots of the Wuti Flame back to Yan Luoyue.
"Take some time to learn how to balance your affections—otherwise, what will you do if you find a third Wuti Flame offshoot?"
"..."
Yan Luoyue barely managed to catch Pinky in her flustered scramble.
The next moment, the ink-wash flame darted nimbly—with agility unbefitting a flame sealed away for millennia—and plunged straight into the grass-woven pixiu at her waist!
Yan Luoyue: "..."
Ji Qinghong: "..."
Well, this unprecedented aesthetic taste seems to have sparked a wildfire of imitation.
Fenfen was blocked outside the woven grass sculpture, anxiously charging at the pixiu figure. Its tiny body made the grass sculpture sway with each impact.
For now, Yan Luoyue set aside the personal conflict between the two flames and first sought Ji Qinghong's advice:
"Master, has your flame ever shown such... favor toward Senior Brother Jiang's grass sculptures before?"
Ji Qinghong looked at Yan Luoyue with pity.
"How could that be?" he comforted her in a gentle voice. "Though my flame lacks eyes, it isn't quite that blind."
Yan Luoyue: "..."
Ji Qinghong stood up, preparing to leave.
Yan Luoyue rose to see him off, only for him to pick up a teacup from the table and kindly press it into her palm.
"Hold the water steady," Ji Qinghong reminded her with great benevolence.
"..."
Before Yan Luoyue could muster a retort, his figure dissipated like a wisp of smoke, leaving no trace behind.
Left alone, Yan Luoyue returned to her seat and cupped both flames in her hands.
Their glow and warmth illuminated her pensive face from either side.
Dozens of thoughts flickered through her mind, but in the end, she simply sighed softly.
"You two, behave and get along."
As she spoke, Yan Luoyue decisively pulled another pixiu grass sculpture from her storage pouch.
This one was also crafted by Jiang Tingbai—just as hideous as the first, each excelling in its own special brand of ugliness.
"Here, one for each of you. No more fighting."
Wisely, Yan Luoyue refrained from assigning them and let the two flames choose for themselves.
After all, everyone knows that when parents or teachers distribute things, children always think the other one got the better deal.
The newly arrived ink-wash flame had caught Yan Luoyue completely off guard—whether in timing, identity, or manner of appearance.
"Hmm, I should give you a name..."
What should she call this flame?
"Bamboo-less Panda"?
"Zebra with Irregular Stripes"?
"I Just Want One Color Photo in My Lifetime"?
Her gaze flickered to Fenfen's fluttering petals, then to the ink-wash flame's silhouette, reminiscent of a crane or wild goose. Suddenly, inspiration struck.
"How about... 'Lone Swan's Shadow'?"
Hearing this name, the ink-wash flame froze completely, even forgetting its rivalry with Fenfen over the grass sculpture. It seemed to exhale in relief before bouncing happily in approval.
Yan Luoyue continued, "And your nickname can be 'Coo-Coo'?"
The ink-wash flame paused, then began frantically shaking side to side in protest.
"Alright, alright, stop flickering—you're giving me afterimages! Fine, I'll call you 'Mo-Mo' then."
The ink-wash flame gave a reluctant little hop of agreement.
And so, from that day onward, Yan Luoyue began carrying two exceptionally ugly grass sculptures wherever she went.
The next day, Ji Qinghong only needed one glance at her waist before his shoulders shook with silent laughter.
...
Though the secret realm of the Wu-Ti Flame had been a scam, its aftermath lingered.
Independent craftsmen without sect backing were now desperately selling off their stockpiled materials from the past year.
They feared the Hongtong Palace—having gained nothing from the secret realm but frustration—might take its anger out on their modest hoards.
It was during this time that Yan Luoyue received a letter from Jiang Tingbai.
In warm tones, he wrote that his teaching assignment had ended, and he would reunite with their sect tomorrow.
Having never met their junior brother, he asked Yan Luoyue to make introductions upon arrival.
Before leaving, as their senior brother, he planned to visit Yan Luoyue's family.
This wasn't for any grand purpose—just to reassure them about her life in the Guiyuan Sect.
If Sister Yu or her brothers wrote letters, Jiang Tingbai would personally deliver them when he came.
Reading this, Yan Luoyue blinked with emotion.
Truly, whether as Senior Brother Jiang now or Teacher Jiang before, he remained considerate as ever.
At the letter's end, Jiang Tingbai casually mentioned preparing gifts for both Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang, to be given upon meeting.
Yan Luoyue: "..."
Knowing Jiang Tingbai's financial state, she suspected his gifts might be two large grass sculptures.
...Actually, that wouldn't be bad—perfect as hamster playgrounds for Fenfen and Mo-Mo.
Folding the letter away, Yan Luoyue eagerly requested leave from Ji Qinghong:
"Master, I'm worried Senior Brother Jiang might get lost tomorrow. May I go meet him?"
Ji Qinghong saw straight through her class-ditching scheme.
With a slow smile, he mercilessly detained Wu Manshuang as a "snake hostage."
"Fine, but you must go alone."
Yan Luoyue attempted to bargain: "But Manshuang hasn’t met Senior Brother Jiang yet. I wanted to introduce them."
"Not him." Ji Qinghong smiled faintly. "He has to stay here and finish your joint assignment."
"..."
The next day, Yan Luoyue headed to the agreed-upon location to meet Jiang Tingbai.
This time, she had taken extra care to don her "Yan Bixin" disguise.
She wasn’t worried that Jiang Tingbai wouldn’t recognize her—over the past five years, Senior Brother Jiang had seen her in this outfit before.
Given that Ji Qinghong had recently stirred up a storm of resentment from the Hongtong Palace, Yan Luoyue, as his disciple, expected to draw some unwanted attention.
To avoid unnecessary trouble, she had deliberately disguised herself like this, hoping to ward off any ill intentions.
But to her utter surprise, despite all her careful preparations, she was still being followed shortly after entering the outer grounds!
Thanks to Ji Qinghong’s rigorous training, Yan Luoyue’s senses were exceptionally sharp.
Even without the ability to project her spiritual awareness outward, she could detect anomalies in her surroundings through shifts in gaze, footsteps, air currents, or even shadows on the ground.
She was absolutely certain—at this very moment, no fewer than a dozen people were tailing her.
"..."
Was it the Hongtong Palace?
Humiliated by Ji Qinghong’s antics in front of the entire world, had they decided to take it out on his disciple?
Beneath the hood of her black robe, the alchemist’s expression remained calm. Yan Bixin’s steps were unhurried, even as she amused herself with a private joke:
Half a year ago, the Hongtong Palace had hesitated to tarnish their reputation by bullying a five-year-old girl.
But now, after half a year had passed, Yan Luoyue was almost six.
Did they think it was suddenly acceptable to harass a six-year-old?
Despite the entourage of stalkers, Yan Luoyue’s mood was surprisingly light.
First, the fact that she could detect them meant they weren’t particularly strong—at most, Golden Core cultivators.
If the Hongtong Palace truly had a plan to target Ji Qinghong’s disciple, they wouldn’t send such mediocre cultivators to intercept her—after all, regardless of her cultivation level, she was still Ji Qinghong’s disciple!
So, this was likely just a petty scheme by some disgruntled Hongtong Palace disciples, too cowardly to confront Ji Qinghong directly.
If Yan Luoyue played her cards right, she might even extort—ahem, rightfully claim—some compensation for the emotional distress.
Second, she wasn’t defenseless.
Setting aside her recent progress in cultivation, she still had the three sword talismans Jiang Tingbai had given her—none of which she’d used yet.
And finally…
At the thought of something amusing, a faint, expectant smile curled beneath the alchemist’s hood.
The stalkers trailed the black-robed figure, pretending to be ordinary passersby.
They fanned out in a loose half-circle, like the spread tail of a peacock, following behind Yan Bixin.
If Yan Bixin stepped into an ideal ambush spot—a narrow alley, a secluded ravine—they would block both ends and strike immediately.
If Yan Bixin showed the slightest hint of panic, the pursuers would swarm in, overwhelming the alchemist with sheer numbers.
But this black-robed alchemist seemed determined to toy with their patience.
One moment, she would pause, as if about to turn around and demand an explanation.
Just as the stalkers tightened their grips on their weapons, ready to leap from hiding, Yan Bixin would simply glance upward—
Ah, just checking the sky.
Seriously? Are you kidding me?
More than a few of them cursed inwardly.
As the sun climbed higher, Yan Bixin continued to meander leisurely through the streets.
The black-robed alchemist neither entered shops nor made purchases, simply strolling with an air of indifference.
Occasionally, she would stop and look up again, prompting bewildered glances among her pursuers—what was so fascinating about the sun?
While Yan Luoyue seemed distracted, the stalkers exchanged hand signals, debating their next move.
—She’s been circling this street for nearly half an hour. Is she messing with us?
—Coward. She’s too scared to turn around or go somewhere secluded.
Just as their leader raised a hand, ready to signal an attack, Yan Bixin halted once more and looked up.
This time, whatever she saw must have startled her, because she abruptly turned and strode decisively into a sheltered, deserted alley.
Hah! Finally!
Seizing the opportunity, the stalkers brightened and swiftly closed in.
When over a dozen cultivators emerged at both ends of the alley, the black-robed artificer stood calmly in the middle, utterly unfazed despite the hood obscuring her face.
She lifted her head leisurely, eyeing the group of furtive stalkers with an air of amusement.
"Well, well. You're here."
Her demeanor was so unusual that the leader raised a hand, stopping his men from attacking immediately.
"You knew we were following you?"
"I noticed from the start," the artificer replied hoarsely, her chuckle laced with mockery.
A question for a question—Yan Luoyue then posed one of her own, cryptic and deliberate.
"But do you know why I’ve been leading you in circles all this time?"
"..."
The implications were endless, but in that moment, the leader could only think of one answer.
"Because you’re stalling for backup!—Enough talk, attack now!"
If reinforcements hadn’t arrived yet, they could still seize this brief window to take down the black-robed artificer in this shadowy alley!
As the dozen cultivators closed in from both sides, Yan Luoyue sighed softly and answered her own question.
"Because... just an incense stick’s time ago, I celebrated my birthday this year..."
Before the words fully left her lips, blades, lightning, swirling dust, and coiling vines struck her simultaneously!
This was no ordinary group—they were a well-trained assassination squad, moving as one, their coordination seamless.
The leader, a mid-stage Golden Core cultivator, led the charge, his heavy-backed saber slashing straight at Yan Luoyue’s torso!
Yet, even after enduring a coordinated assault from over a dozen experts, the black-robed artificer remained standing, utterly unmoved.
Even the Golden Core leader doubted he could survive such an onslaught.
But the artificer merely leaned back slightly, as if completely unharmed.
...What in the world? Were their eyes playing tricks?
She was supposed to be an artificer, not some unbreakable body cultivator known for their impenetrable defenses!
If they could hear her thoughts, Yan Luoyue would have laughed.
Right now, she was tilting her head slightly, mirroring her earlier gesture of "checking the sun."
But she wasn’t looking at the sky.
In truth, Yan Luoyue was examining her health bar.
Standing sideways, her recently multiplied million-point HP bar stretched gloriously across the entire alley.
She watched as, even after taking over a dozen lethal strikes at once, her health remained rock-solid.
That absurdly long, alley-spanning red bar was like one of those "chop once" scams—even with ten people hacking at it simultaneously, the progress didn’t budge an inch!
Yan Luoyue half-wondered if even a hundred or a thousand attackers could make a dent.
While she mused, the assassins launched their second assault.
If the first round was rushed at ninety percent effort, this time they poured everything into it—twelve percent, if such a thing existed.
...Even a Nascent Soul expert wouldn’t walk away unscathed from this! They’d at least flinch!
Yet, to their disbelief, the black-robed artificer still showed no damage.
What the hell—was she even human?!
...Were they attacking an indestructible tortoise shell, or had they finally bitten off more than they could chew?
At the leader’s command, they attacked a third time.
But privately, their palms were sweating.
A few of the weaker-willed cultivators could barely grip their weapons.
Just as the third wave of attacks was about to land, everyone in the alley heard the black-robed figure chuckle softly.
Her raspy voice now sounded like the whisper of a vengeful ghost.
"Do you all... have wives and children?"
Clang—!
The third assault vanished without a trace, not even scratching the artificer’s robes.
They were done. Utterly done.
That was the only thought flashing through their minds.
They’d kicked an iron plate this time.
After witnessing that monstrous display, they didn’t even dare think of fleeing.
Trembling, the leader asked, "W-what do you want? Why ask about our families?"
The black-robed artificer gave another hoarse laugh.
"Nothing much. Just thought I’d tell you a story... about ‘sons begetting grandsons, grandsons begetting great-grandsons...’ and moving mountains."
The words had barely left her lips when Yan Luoyue realized something was off: "Hmm, that won't work. Even if you all learn the spirit of the Foolish Old Man, it still wouldn’t help."
After all, no matter how hard these people worked—even to the point of exhaustion—their baby-making speed could never outpace the rate at which her health bar doubled!
The group failed to grasp the dark humor in Yan Luoyue’s joke and instead stood frozen in terror at her "threat."
Just as Yan Luoyue thought this was a good opportunity to press them further about their origins, a frost-white streak of sword light flashed before her eyes.
The sword gleam moved like a soaring dragon, like a startled swan.
At one moment, it could be mistaken for a drifting petal of pear blossom in the spring breeze—yet the next, it turned as biting as an icy gale in the heart of winter.
In the next second, everyone in the alley except Yan Luoyue collapsed to the ground, howling in pain.
Yan Luoyue lifted her head, eyes bright with hope and delight.
A figure descended from the sky, riding his sword.
He wore no jewelry, no jade ornaments. His posture was as straight and noble as a jade tree in a courtyard, clad in a faded sword robe.
Yan Luoyue had once seen him as gentle as moonlit spring waters.
But now, the warmth in the man’s refined features had hardened into the icy severity of snow-capped peaks in the far north.
Jiang Tingbai’s astonishment burned with anger, like flames wrapped in water, making it impossible to meet his sharp gaze.
Jiang Tingbai had never expected that, upon arriving as promised, his spiritual senses would immediately detect such an infuriating scene.
A dozen shady-looking cultivators had cornered his frail, innocent, pitiable, and utterly adorable six-year-old junior sister in an alley!
Sheathing his sword, Jiang Tingbai snapped, "How dare you bully my—"
He swallowed the word "junior sister" just in time.
Considering Yan Luoyue was currently disguised as "Yan Bixin," Jiang Tingbai held back from saying too much.
A single glance at the aftermath of the fight in the alley told Jiang Tingbai everything he needed to know.
His junior sister was only a Foundation Establishment cultivator, while the leader of this group had already reached the Golden Core stage.
His fury, far from subsiding, only grew fiercer with the evidence before him.
"She’s still so young… so small. ‘Treat the young as you would your own’—did none of you think of the children in your own families before raising your hands against her?"
Logically, Jiang Tingbai could guess that these men might have mistaken "Yan Bixin" for an adult cultivator.
But the heart of the matter was this—they had ganged up on a six-year-old child!
What kind of scum would do such a thing?
Under the relentless scolding of this sword-wielding lord who had descended from the heavens, the men clenched their teeth.
Finally, one of them couldn’t take it anymore. Overwhelmed by pain and terror, he burst into tears with a loud, "Waaah!"
What rotten luck had befallen them?
This had started as just another routine assassination mission, only to run into a master who was baiting them into a trap.
The master had toyed with them, then asked in a raspy, villainous voice about their wives and children.
Before they could even beg for their miserable lives, this sword lord had descended from the sky, slashing their legs and right hands in a single stroke.
The most horrifying part? These two were clearly birds of a feather.
The first thing out of their mouths was a threat against their families!
Jiang Tingbai’s expression remained unmoved by the man’s sobbing. "Who sent you? The Hongtong Palace?"
For various complicated reasons, Jiang Tingbai’s first suspicion also fell on the Hongtong Palace.
Yan Luoyue chuckled. "No, they’re probably not."
Unlike Jiang Tingbai’s grim expression, beneath her hood, Yan Luoyue was grinning ear to ear.
It had been a year since she last saw her senior brother Jiang. From the moment that sword light flashed before her eyes, her mood had soared.
She said cheerfully, "At first, I thought they were from the Hongtong Palace too. But after just one round through the streets, I knew they weren’t."
Yan Luoyue had been strolling through the streets, clearly stalling for time.
If these were Hongtong Palace disciples hunting her under the assumption that "Yan Bixin is Yan Luoyue," how could they dare let her roam freely?
Wouldn’t they fear her sending a message to Ji Qinghong for backup?
So, these men must have been tailing Yan Bixin.
Recalling that over the past year, "Yan Bixin" had only appeared a handful of times—always at the Star River Auction House—Yan Luoyue quickly pieced it together.
"Young Master Yu from the auction house sent you, didn’t he?"
Over the last two months, aside from teaching her formations, Ji Qinghong had also given Yan Luoyue some pointers in artifact refining.
Those class assignments had been handed over to Yu Funing—the female appraiser at Star River Auction House—and sold for hundreds of thousands of spirit stones in total.
Seeing that Yan Luoyue had guessed their employer, the leader spilled everything.
—This was a ruthless person who, upon being ambushed, immediately suspected the Hongtong Palace. And within two sentences, she had already brought up their families.
How could such deeds be committed by those who walk the righteous path? These two must be heretics of a kind ordinary folk wouldn’t dare imagine!
As it turned out, this group had been dispatched by Young Master Yu from the auction house.
After the failed tailing operation last time, Young Master Yu hadn’t backed down. Instead, he became even more discreet in his actions.
He no longer sent people to follow Yan Bixin but instead focused on investigating the background of this black-robed artifact refiner.
Upon discovering that Yan Bixin was a loner with roots near the Yunning Great Marsh—far from any authority here—Young Master Yu began scheming, thinking he could pull off a heist.
Especially since, over the past two months, Yan Bixin had auctioned two rare treasures through his sister.
Young Master Yu’s men secretly learned that Yan Bixin had more items he planned to entrust to Yu Funing for auction before the secret realm exploration concluded.
This revelation stirred up a hornet’s nest.
The leader confessed honestly: "We’ve always done Young Master Yu’s dirty work… Whenever he learns of unaffiliated cultivators with treasures but no backing, he sends us after them."
Including himself, this squad had three Golden Core cultivators.
In the past, no matter who they targeted, success was guaranteed.
According to the leader, Young Master Yu had hesitated between "recruiting" Yan Bixin or simply killing him to seize his treasures.
But considering his sister’s meticulous and stubborn nature—
If Yan Bixin disappeared and he later produced artifacts resembling Yan Bixin’s style, Yu Funing would surely investigate—Young Master Yu ultimately issued the kill order.
After hearing the leader’s confession of their past crimes, Jiang Tingbai’s expression darkened like still water.
He drew his sword and asked coldly, "Do you have anything else to say?"
The leader raised his head, lips trembling. "The strong prey on the weak. We deserve death and have nothing to say. But… harm should not befall the innocent—"
Realizing the misunderstanding, Yan Bixin lowered his head speechlessly, covering his face with a hand.
Even someone as composed as Jiang Tingbai couldn’t help but sigh.
"When I spoke of ‘cherishing others’ children as your own,’ it was to urge you to reflect before death…"
Who knew these scoundrels would project their own ruthlessness and assume he meant to wipe out their families?
A flash of sword light streaked through the air—
Like pear blossoms scattering in snow, like startled crows fleeing the cold.
Jiang Tingbai sheathed his sword and took Yan Luoyue’s hand, just as he had when they were younger, as if he were still the attentive, slightly overbearing teacher from their school days.
"Let’s go. Your senior brother will help you seek justice."
……
"...In short, that’s why I went to fetch Senior Brother Jiang in the morning but didn’t return until afternoon."
Yan Luoyue clapped her hands together, summarizing the day’s events with emphasis:
"We really just settled scores—no idle wandering, no catching up so much that we forgot Master was waiting… Really! Look into my earnest eyes if you don’t believe me!"
Ji Qinghong propped his chin on one hand, smiling silently as he watched Yan Luoyue spin her tale.
Meanwhile, Wu Manshuang tugged her sleeve and pointed to a small stack of handwritten papers on the table.
Yan Luoyue gasped, a foreboding feeling rising in her chest. "What’s this?"
Please don’t let it be tonight’s homework!
Wu Manshuang gazed at her calmly. "The group assignments for the next seven days. I finished them just now."
His body language reassured her: Don’t worry, with me as your backup, you can slack off freely for the next week!
Ji Qinghong coughed meaningfully, his smile deepening. "I’m still here, you know."
As for Yan Luoyue…
Faced with such an earnest Wu Manshuang, her conscience twinged with inexplicable guilt.
She grabbed his hand and vowed, "Manshuang, I was wrong! Next time I slack off, I’ll take you with me!"
Ji Qinghong’s smile grew even warmer. "Your master is still present."
Jiang Tingbai stood to the side, watching this lively scene with a gentle smile.
His gaze drifted past Yan Luoyue’s head and settled on Wu Manshuang.
"You must be Junior Brother Wu."
When the conversation lulled, Jiang Tingbai retrieved something from his robes and handed it to Wu Manshuang.
"I’ve written you a few letters before. Now we finally meet."
Yan Luoyue looked closely and saw it was a jade peace pendant.
Though smooth and warm to the touch, the pendant faintly radiated lingering sword energy.
This pendant was likely carved by Jiang Tingbai himself with his sword.
Admittedly, his jade-carving skills far surpassed his grass-weaving abilities.
Yan Luoyue examined the jade, surprised. "Senior Brother, you’ve come into money lately?"
Jiang Tingbai smiled, unashamed, his expression serene.
"No, the hundred-year deadline hasn’t passed yet… So I found this jade in the mountains myself."
He took two steps toward Wu Manshuang and personally fastened the peace pendant around his neck, then gently patted his junior brother's shoulder.
Jiang Tingbai spoke with heartfelt sincerity, "I'm sorry. Back in the Lu family's secret chamber, I arrived a step too late."
Led by Zhen Zhuo'er, he and Yan Luoyue had rushed into Lu Jindu's hidden room, only to find the empty cage that once held the little green snake.
With a warm smile at Wu Manshuang, Jiang Tingbai bent down to meet the level of his eyes, veiled in white gauze.
Softly, he said, "If I had arrived just a little sooner back then, this gift would have been yours much earlier... But fortunately, it's still not too late now."
"Junior Brother Wu, from today onward, our sect is your home."
Wu Manshuang silently tightened his grip around the peace pendant at his throat. After a brief pause, he gave a firm nod.
"Senior Brother Jiang!"
"Hmm." Jiang Tingbai's eyes curved into a smile as he turned to Yan Luoyue and beckoned her over.
"Junior Sister, come. There's a gift for you too."
"I know, you mentioned it in your letter," Yan Luoyue replied, her gaze flickering curiously toward Jiang Tingbai's sleeve.
He had given Wu Manshuang a hand-carved peace pendant—what could he possibly have for her?
Judging by the gesture, it likely wasn't the usual woven grass trinket.
Yet even Yan Luoyue didn't expect what came next—in the very next moment, Jiang Tingbai drew a budding red plum blossom from his sleeve.
"This is...?"
Jiang Tingbai smiled gently. "This is from the plum tree in your family's courtyard. Before I left, I asked Yan Yu for permission to take a cutting with me."
Not only had Jiang Tingbai brought letters from home for Yan Luoyue,
but he had also brought her a branch of plum blossoms from her very doorstep.
—You came from my homeland; you must know its affairs. By my silk-embroidered window, have the winter plums bloomed yet?
