Chapter 42 Junior Sister, planning to renege on all her debts...

The sound of the water clock at Hai hour had long been torn apart by the mountain wind, but Ji Fuguang's words, "I will teach you to play the zither," struck Sheng Zhiyi's ears like shattered jade hitting a wall.

She stood frozen in place, her fingertips on the strings icy cold, while the back of her hand, which he had just touched, still felt strangely hot.

Ji Fuguang is a perfect match for the night.

The moonlight flowed over him, coating his already jade-like skin with an almost eerie glaze, making him stand out in the night.

His phoenix eyes, which were always as cold and sharp as an icy pool, now had a lazy yet sharp upward tilt at the corners. His thick, long eyelashes half-concealed the dangerous and viscous desire in his eyes, while the surface of his eyes floated with an intoxicating light.

Stared intently into those eyes, Sheng Zhiyi's breath caught in her throat for a moment. A warm rush to her cheeks, and she stammered:

"Okay...okay, thank you, senior brother..."

For some reason, these words put Ji Fuguang in a very good mood, and he slowly smiled.

Deep within the fine crease of his eyelids, a tiny red mole, usually almost invisible, was now revealed with unusual clarity as he slightly squinted, like a solidified cinnabar dot in the snow, or a drop of blood accidentally spilled, breathtakingly alluring.

It added a touch of alluring and wicked charm to his already incomparably handsome face.

He slowly sat back down opposite him, his wide, snow-white sleeves flowing across the table like water. He picked up the wine jug, and poured the amber-colored wine into the glass, the clear sound particularly distinct in the excessively quiet night.

"Sit still," he said slowly.

Sheng Zhiyi sat on the stone bench, secretly raised her eyes, and glanced at Ji Fuguang, only to meet his gaze.

She quickly lowered her eyelids and stared at the zither on the table.

The index finger with its distinct knuckles tapped the surface of the zither.

"Gong Xian".

Sheng Zhiyi hurriedly reached out her hand, her fingertips tentatively touching the thickest string.

"Wrong."

A clear, gentle voice rang out without warning.

Sheng Zhiyi trembled suddenly, her fingertips hovering in mid-air, still an inch away from the bowstring.

Before anyone knew it, Ji Fuguang had leaned closer.

He didn't touch her, but his powerful shadow completely enveloped her, and a clear, pure fragrance, like the subtle scent of pear blossoms blooming on branches after the first snow, silently spread.

This fragrance, which should have been a symbol of refined elegance, strangely swirled around Sheng Zhiyi, enveloping her like a giant spider web.

“Look closely, this is it.” Ji Fuguang’s voice was almost close to Sheng Zhiyi’s ear, low and gentle.

A slender hand reached out from behind her, across her arm, and pointed precisely to the correct string. The pale fingers were almost transparent in the moonlight, the nails were rounded and neat, yet they exuded an inhuman coldness and hardness.

"Bo." Another word.

Sheng Zhiyi's heart pounded wildly in her chest. Afraid that Ji Fuguang would hear it too, she quickly reached out and, with almost all her strength, scraped her nails across the cold strings.

"Zheng—"

A dry, short, and unpleasant monotone suddenly exploded out, so awful that Sheng Zhiyi herself wanted to cover her ears.

With a pained expression, she looked up at Ji Fuguang, her face pitiful, the words of pleading on her lips, ready to burst out immediately.

The expected harsh mockery did not immediately follow.

Ji Fuguang simply maintained his overbowed, all-encompassing posture, looking at Sheng Zhiyi with a half-smile, as if watching an innocent prey that had fallen into a spider web.

"Junior Sister... is she scared?"

He suddenly spoke, his voice rising slightly at the end, carrying a hint of playfulness that was barely perceptible.

The breath brushed against her earlobe, sending a slight shiver down her spine.

Afraid?

Sheng Zhiyi gritted her teeth and immediately straightened her back.

What...what does she have to be afraid of! So what if she plays terribly and Ji Fuguang dislikes her? What's there to be afraid of?

The next second, her almond-shaped eyes widened instantly.

Ji Fuguang stretched out his arm, raised the wine glass on the table, and pressed the slightly cool rim of the glass against her lips.

Despite the icy touch, Sheng Zhiyi somehow felt as if she were on fire.

"Junior Sister, there's no need to be so nervous..." A clear and elegant voice rang close to Sheng Zhiyi's ear, its tone gentle and refined, yet the close proximity made it seem somewhat ambiguous. "Have some wine and relax."

Too close, Sheng Zhiyi felt her blood rushing to her head.

She gave a perfunctory reply, put the wine glass to her lips, and slowly drank the wine following the force of Ji Fuguang's hand.

A cold hand suddenly covered the back of her hand that was pressing on the strings.

Sheng Zhiyi trembled violently, as if she had been thrown into an ice cave and then instantly ignited.

The heat from the alcohol was instantly aroused, causing her cheeks to flush and her whole body to feel hot.

Ji Fuguang's hands were colder than she had imagined, like a piece of jade soaked in a freezing spring; the chill instantly penetrated her skin and reached her very bones. Yet beneath this icy cover lay an irresistible force, guiding Sheng Zhiyi's fingertips to gently rest on the strings.

It is a posture of complete control.

"Junior Sister..." The gentle voice rang out again. Ji Fuguang's face was calm, as if he was focused on teaching. "Follow my hand and feel the resilience of the strings. Relax your movements."

Sheng Zhiyi felt as if all her strength had been drained away, her body stiff as a piece of wood. Only the hand covered by Ji Fuguang was forced to feel the strength of his finger bones and the slight trembling of the strings.

She could even feel the crisscrossing scars on his knuckles.

Sheng Zhiyi's heart stirred slightly. When cultivators reach this level, they can naturally cleanse their marrow and become free from worldly defilement. Why would Ji Fuguang deliberately leave scars on his hands...?

The thought flashed through his mind, and the next second, Ji Fuguang's fingers tightened suddenly, gripping Sheng Zhiyi's fingers and changing the string.

"Junior Sister, the tune here is about to change."

Sheng Zhiyi flinched, her fingers trembled, and she mispronounced another note.

The noise was unusually noticeable in the quiet pear blossom grove.

But……

Sheng Zhiyi bit her lip. Just now, when Ji Fuguang was speaking, the warm breath he exhaled actually hit her earlobe.

Half of my body felt tingly and numb, as if it were out of my control.

Unexpectedly, Ji Fuguang was not angry. Instead, he chuckled and patiently held Sheng Zhiyi's fingers, playing the piece again.

As the song ended, Sheng Zhiyi abruptly pulled her hand back, the lingering sensation of the scars on his finger bones still on her fingertips. She hurriedly said:

"Senior brother, thank you... thank you for teaching me to play the zither tonight."

She lowered her head and lowered her eyes, the moonlight casting a small shadow on her eyelids. After hesitating for a moment, Sheng Zhiyi lifted a sliver of her eyelashes and glanced at Ji Fuguang.

But she saw him under the moonlight, his head slightly lowered, his eyes fixed on her.

The usual aloofness and detachment vanished, replaced by an aggressive scrutiny, like a lazy yet cruel beast patiently watching its prey's panicked state.

"Senior brother..." Sheng Zhiyi suddenly stood up, her eyes darting away to avoid Ji Fuguang's gaze. "There's a competition tomorrow, I'll go back first."

She didn't dare to look up, instinctively avoiding Ji Fuguang, and stepped into the pear blossom grove before hastily leaving.

As Ji Fuguang watched Sheng Zhiyi's retreating figure, the image of her with her head bowed flashed through his mind.

A delicate blush spread from her cheeks to her neck, like cherry blossoms just beginning to bloom, swaying in the cool night breeze, making one want to explore further.

The moonlight cast shadows of the trees onto his face, making his expression indistinct. However, a sudden burst of extremely destructive spiritual power erupted beside him, tearing apart the surging pear blossom petals and drawing out crimson blood.

Sheng Zhiyi returned to her room under the moonlight, collapsed onto the bed, and buried her face in the blankets.

She felt her whole body burning up, especially her cheeks.

It's easy to imagine how deep the red stain was on her face.

Damn it, did she look like a monkey's butt in front of Ji Fuguang just now?

What are you blushing about?! Stop it right now!

Sheng Zhiyi rolled around on the bed and used the Mind-Cleansing Technique on herself twice.

However, it had absolutely no effect.

She kept replaying the scene in her mind: Ji Fuguang under the moonlight, dangerous yet alluring, almost like a bewitching demon from legends…

Is it because of the alcohol I drank?

The cool touch of the glass still lingered on her lips, followed by the image of Ji Fuguang drinking the wine from her fingers. He must have been watching her then...

Sheng Zhiyi was suddenly startled. She quickly put her finger off her lips, jumped off the bed, walked to the copper basin, and splashed the icy water from the melting snow of Shuanghua Peak onto her face.

Enraged, she didn't even use a respectful title, and said bitterly:

"What kind of harmful stuff has Chen Huaiyu brewed? It's truly despicable!"

She tossed and turned in bed all night, and even when she finally drifted off to sleep, she couldn't get a good night's rest.

The first light of dawn.

The bright sunlight of late spring shines into the room through the window lattice, casting green shadows on the smooth bluestone floor through the green curtains.

"Junior Sister, you still have a match today."

Suddenly, Ji Fuguang's clear and gentle voice came from outside the door.

Sheng Zhiyi hadn't slept long and was feeling very sleepy. When she suddenly heard a noise, she grabbed the blanket and buried her head in it.

Who's making all this noise so early in the morning...?

Wait! It's Ji Fuguang!

She sat up abruptly and hurriedly got out of bed. Her movements were clumsy and somewhat flustered, but her body got tangled in the blankets. With a "thud," she rolled off the bed, her knees hitting the floor, and she couldn't help but cry out in pain.

"Junior Sister, are you alright?"

Ji Fuguang seemed to hear the voices inside and asked a question.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'll be right out."

Despite the pain in her knees from the fall, Sheng Zhiyi struggled with the blanket while shouting.

She quickly got up, cast a cleansing spell on herself, and limped to open the door, gripping her longsword.

Sunlight streamed in from outside the door, instantly illuminating Sheng Zhiyi's eyes.

Ji Fuguang stood there, his posture as upright as a pine tree. The morning light gilded him with a soft golden edge. His moon-white robe was spotless, his eyes were clear, and his face wore his usual gentle and jade-like smile.

It was as if the dangerous and alluring man from last night had never existed; the red mole at the corner of his eye and his hot breath when he approached... it all seemed like a dream that Sheng Zhiyi had.

Sheng Zhiyi's tense heartstrings suddenly relaxed, but a trace of indescribable loss swept over her.

"Senior brother!" She smiled, her eyes flickering as she avoided Ji Fuguang's direct gaze.

"Junior Sister..." Ji Fuguang's smiling gaze swept over her slightly limping leg, finally landing on her somewhat evasive eyes. His voice was clear and elegant, befitting a good senior brother, "You spent a long time learning the zither last night. Did you get enough rest?"

The words "learning the zither" seemed to carry a deeper meaning, and his gaze seemed to casually sweep over her ear, which had now returned to normal.

Sheng Zhiyi looked up at the sky, immediately recalling the conclusion she had reached last night, and blurted out:

"Elder Chen's wine last night was quite intoxicating, did Senior Brother also..." She paused, her tone carrying a hint of seeking confirmation and eagerness to clear her name, "...drink a bit too much too?"

That makes sense. Ji Fuguang's expression was slightly different from usual last night, which must have been due to drinking.

But Ji Fuguang isn't a big problem; the main issue is her! What on earth is she thinking about?!

However, she has a low alcohol tolerance, so it's normal for her to act a little out of line when she's drunk and tipsy.

It was already broad daylight, nearly 9 AM.

Before anyone could answer, Sheng Zhiyi spoke faster: "It's already this late, the competition must be about to start. Senior brother, I'll head to the competition venue now."

As she spoke, she immediately lifted her foot and walked outside.

"Junior Sister," Ji Fuguang spoke again, his voice still gentle, his gaze falling on her legs, "What happened to your legs?"

"I bumped into something by accident just now," Sheng Zhiyi waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry, Senior Brother, I'm fine now!"

She was in a hurry to get to the competition venue, and she walked quickly.

The two brushed past each other, Ji Fuguang's sleeve, cool and smooth, covered the back of her hand, eventually slipping off as Sheng Zhiyi left.

Ji Fuguang's smile remained unchanged as he watched her flee in a panic, the smile in his eyes gradually cooling down until it finally solidified into a bottomless pool.

Last night, he personally fed her a mere cup of wine.

Junior sister, are you planning to... pin all the blame on the drinks?