Chapter 3 I wasn't jealous
—【Praise him, praise how delicious his poisoned pastries are.】The slender characters slowly spread out, blurring into a mass of red ink, emitting a faint, sweet, and fishy smell.
The small characters formed from congealed blood were chilling enough, but the meaning they conveyed was even more terrifying.
Yao Jin felt like she was falling into hell, but to her utter surprise, her body seemed to be losing control.
She watched in horror as she raised her two slender arms, which seemed boneless, and climbed up to the back of Meng Ji's neck.
Lightning roared, and the night was as bright as day.
In the light and shadow, Yao Jin, like a cat, pressed her face against Meng Ji's arm, saying, "Little Daoist, how can you be so kind?"
"It's so late, and you're still thinking about me."
"These cakes smell so good, it must be because of the lotus seeds in them. They must be delicious. I want you to feed me."
Her soft voice was like the gentle, melodious speech of a woman from Jiangnan, so soft it seemed to penetrate right into one's bones.
Meng Ji's neck quickly flushed red. He pursed his lips slightly and said, "Yes, once you remove the bitter lotus heart from the Pure Heart Lotus, all that's left is its sweet taste. Adding it to pastries can make them even more delicious."
If it weren't for the small print on his palm, this gentle and kind-hearted man would really look like a husband who cares deeply for his wife.
What exactly is the Lotus of Tranquility? How can it be poisonous? And if it's poisonous, how can you say it out loud?
Yao Jin's mind went blank, and she suddenly felt a chill run down her spine. In extreme fear, her body trembled slightly.
"What's wrong, Madam? Are you cold?"
"Yes, I'm a little cold." Yao Jin heard the sweet voice coming from her throat and began to feel afraid of Xiao Daojun. She decided to pack her bags and run away that very night, but her mouth opened and closed against her will, "Xiao Daojun is so considerate of me, I really like Xiao Daojun so much."
"Hmm, you..." Meng wanted to reprimand her for her audacity, but for some reason, he didn't say it.
The fragrance emanating from her was faint and elusive, like a perfectly plump peach; one could imagine its sweetness without even squeezing it, yet this sweetness lingered only within this one place.
This belongs to him alone.
In the long silence, a sticky, dark emotion silently fermented. Meng Ji's long, slender eyelashes trembled slightly, and he said softly, "I'm glad Madam likes these pastries."
As his thoughts raced, an invisible black aura quietly crept out from the palm of Yao Jin's hand.
The black mist observed cautiously for a while before diving headfirst into the Golden Eye.
The pastries in front of him blurred into double images, and Yao Jin's pupils dilated instantly, gradually becoming unfocused, but after a moment, his vision refocused.
She stared at the pastries in front of her, then looked at Meng Ji, momentarily forgetting what had just happened.
"How could a peddler from the foot of the mountain be selling pastries?" Suddenly, Yao Jin had a flash of inspiration. "Young Daoist, did you make this plate of pastries?"
Peddlers are different from shopkeepers. They usually sell a whole load of goods at once, and it's common for their products to be poorly made. But the problem is that selling a whole load of goods doesn't require making such complicated food.
"Oh dear, Little Daoist, you're such a contradiction. You say you'll punish me, but you're also making me pastries." Yao Jin was convinced that the pastries were made by Little Daoist, and thought that he was like a sweet little snail who was stubborn on the outside but soft on the inside.
Little Snail Mengji, however, kept his lips tightly pressed together and remained silent.
His neck and back turned red at a visible speed, like the rising sunset, incomparably beautiful.
Overjoyed, Yao Jin leaned over and blew on that long, slender neck, saying, "Little Daoist, you're so cute."
Hugging is the best form of physical contact; it's intimate without being overtly sexual.
Meng Ji's breathing became a little erratic. He closed his eyes and recited the Heart-Cleansing Mantra.
That's how relationships between men and women work. When one side dominates the other, that's how you control things.
Seeing this, the small characters in the palm breathed a slight sigh of relief. But once they realized that Yao Jin had Meng Ji firmly under his control, they immediately became extremely smug. All the characters trembled happily, but after a moment, they all stood up straight again, and the protruding dots even jumped up and slapped the other characters.
This was the first time such a situation had occurred, and Yao Jin was quite surprised.
She looked at the small characters, but the font suddenly changed again. The characters first clung together for a moment, then all changed direction. They stretched and pulled out several lines of tiny characters: "Defeated the previous best Daoist couple—Xuan Shuang and her husband, and obtained the title of 'Love Stronger Than Gold,' the best Daoist couple in the Immortal Sect."
[Note: Xuan Shuang is a Buddhist practitioner who has returned to secular life.]
Shaking Gold: ...
How interesting! Even a Buddhist monk can be forced to return to secular life because of this kind of relationship. How can anyone argue about this?
Let's just kill her.
It's not an exaggeration to say that Yao Jin had this idea.
She and Meng Ji were complete strangers before their marriage; she was simply using the fact that she had saved Meng Ji to coerce him.
Although the two get along well now, this kind of relationship is not likely to withstand any test. It would probably fall apart with the slightest breeze, without even a gust of wind.
Yao Jin ignored him and lazily lay on Meng Ji.
Upon seeing this, the smaller characters immediately became anxious. They shook their fonts and then released powerful electric currents, with bursts of crackling electricity emanating from them.
Shaking Gold: ...
Even a clay sculptor would get angry after being challenged like this repeatedly, let alone someone trying to shake gold.
With a cold expression, she slowly straightened up to recover from the pain of the electric shock.
Meng Ji felt a lightness on his back, and his heart seemed to empty for a moment. "Madam, what's wrong?"
"I..." Yao Jin stopped mid-sentence. She wasn't someone who could easily hold her temper; she had tried various methods over the past few days, but none of them had worked.
She wanted to pick up her pen to expose the matter, but the pen suddenly broke.
He wanted to let others know through other people's words, but before he could even open his mouth, he was struck unconscious by an electric shock.
On another occasion, she disregarded everything and ran to Meng Ji's side in front of everyone, ready to confront him directly, which almost made Meng Ji suspect that she had been possessed.
What happens to a possessed demon? The bloodstains on the Demon-Slaying Platform that have remained for years have already given Yao Jin the answer.
She was so preoccupied that she didn't notice Meng Ji's thoughtful expression.
The little one seemed more impatient than ever tonight, and soon began urging the shaking of the gold again.
It was the same comma that had appeared earlier. It jumped up first and clapped its palms ten times per second—clapping, clapping, clapping, making the sound of a seal's tail hitting the ground.
Meng Ji looked up, thinking he had misheard. "Madam, did you hear anything?"
"I heard it," Yao Jin muttered to himself, "It's your wife's death warrant." "No, what was that sound? I didn't hear it."
At the same time, Yao Jin clenched his fist and slapped the comma with his other hand.
The comma was immediately rendered dazed and confused.
Yao Jin breathed a sigh of relief.
But if things continued like this, Xiao Daojun's keen senses would eventually give him away. Yao Jin couldn't care less about being awkward at this moment and asked directly, "Do you know Xuan Shuang?"
Xuan Shuang appeared once at Yao Jin's wedding. The reason she was so memorable was because she was quite good-looking.
Upon hearing this, Meng Ji's eyes turned cold for a moment. He slowly picked up the osmanthus pastry from the plate and fed it to his wife, saying, "Madam asked him what he wanted."
"Hmm...hmm?" Yao Jin, who had intended to change the subject, was successfully led astray. She lost her appetite for the pastry, turned her head away, and asked, "Then tell me if you recognize him? He's the bald guy who came to our wedding. He's really handsome!"
"He even wrote you a visiting card, saying he'd come to see you in a while. Hmm... his handwriting was quite nice, it was a small semi-cursive script." Yao Jin kept describing the details, trying to get Meng Ji to give a direct answer, but little did she know that the more she described, the more the osmanthus pastry crumbled.
"What font do I usually use?" Meng Ji asked abruptly.
"Uh..." This really stumped Yao Jin. She didn't know much about calligraphy, and it was Xiao Juan who taught her this running script style.
"Why does Madam keep mentioning a strange man tonight?" After a pause, Meng Ji pursed his lips, his pale lips turning slightly red.
Yao Jin felt a pang of guilt upon hearing this and immediately changed the subject, "I was just chatting with you because I had nothing else to do."
For some reason, as soon as he said that, Yao Jin noticed that Meng Ji's lips were pressed even tighter and his eyelashes were drooping.
Yao Jin quickly imagined herself as she had just returned home, only to push away the puppy that was wagging its tail excitedly to greet her.
The scene of the heartbroken puppy silently shrinking into a corner.
My apologies, my apologies.
Yao Jin instinctively tried to coax him, but because he was preoccupied with matters of life and death, his tone was inevitably perfunctory, "Little Daoist, actually your handwriting is quite beautiful. Otherwise, you wouldn't have become the sect leader."
How could Meng Ji not notice this perfunctory attitude? He stared at Yao Jin's face, glancing at it again and again.
After a moment, he stood up, clutching his chest which felt a little tight. "Where is the mountain rule that Madam copied? I am not very talented, but I can appreciate the style of the characters Madam is writing now."
"No, why are you bringing this up?" Yao Jin immediately got angry. "I was just asking you about Xuan Shuang..."
Yao Jin, who had never copied the mountain rules, was afraid of being scolded by the young Daoist for not being able to hand them in. In his panic, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration, "You, you're not jealous, are you?"
She narrowed her eyes, her gaze sweeping over Meng Ji's expression. When she saw his eyelashes fluttering wildly, she laughed out loud, as if trying to stir up trouble. "Little Daoist, you're jealous. Aren't you ashamed?"
The girl laughed wildly and unrestrainedly, the golden hairpin on her head swaying and trembling, like a spirit descending to earth.
Meng Ji's heart skipped a beat, "I..."
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