Chapter 119 Why I Like Her
These words bound Pingyu like leaden ropes, causing her gaze to lower, unwilling to look into the boy's eyes. For Nezha, words of earnestness were as easy as breathing. The moment he finished speaking, it was as if he exhaled a long breath. He released Pingyu's hand…
Let's go.
Despite saying this, the boy showed no intention of taking any action.
Pingyu tentatively took a step forward, and Nezha moved as if on command. The two followed closely, keeping a distance. Upon arriving at the camp, the feast was already being prepared. Huang Tianhua and the others were waiting for Nezha, while Pingyu, as one of the main characters tonight, was to stay with Lu Ya.
"..."
Pingyu hesitated: "Should I go first?"
She pointed in the direction of her master, unsure of her own feelings. Nezha smiled and nodded to her: "See you later."
The moment she turned around, Pingyu felt a little dizzy. She floated over to Lu Ya's side, and the Taoist, holding a chicken leg, asked with a sidelong glance, "What are you doing?"
"Master."
Pingyu stared blankly and said, "I'm thirsty."
Lu Ya remained silent, pouring her a large cup of wine. Shang Dynasty wine had a very low alcohol content, tasting almost like flavored water. Ping Yu downed the entire cup, then slammed the cup on the table, looking dazed. Lu Ya asked, "What's wrong?"
Ping Yu said, "My mind is in turmoil."
She now understood what "brothers drinking together only bring bitterness in their hearts" meant; Nezha's tactic of feigned retreat had caught her completely off guard. Lu Ya observed this but said nothing. Young people should resolve their own problems; besides, how could someone who couldn't even see through the complexities of "emotion" possibly achieve enlightenment? He patted Ping Yu's shoulder and sighed, "Don't tell anyone you're my disciple when you go out."
How embarrassing that I couldn't even hold onto a single lotus flower!
Pingyu buried his face in the wine jug: I'm going to drink myself to death QAQ
Throughout the entire banquet, she seemed somewhat absent-minded. Even after returning to her tent and lying on her bed, Pingyu was deep in thought. Staring at the pitch-black sheepskin tent, a jumble of chaotic thoughts flashed through her mind before settling into two weighty sentences.
1. Why does he like me so much?
Second: Am I really worth it?
Pingyu had never understood what it was about her that attracted Nezha. After all, in her modern life, she was someone with nothing particularly outstanding about her besides her appearance. But Nezha's face itself exuded authority; they had known each other since they were young, so there was no question of lust at first sight. Pingyu didn't think her modern soul could attract Nezha. In such a vast world, there would always be people with progressive ideas. There were countless people of exceptional talent and vast knowledge; even Pingyu couldn't compose a poem in five steps!
She desperately wanted to ask Nezha what he liked about her, so much so that every word she had ever spoken was remembered. When it was all over and her heart quieted down, the scenes from the day were replayed on Pingyu's retina. To be honest, Pingyu didn't understand her own feelings for Nezha. When his tiger's mouth pressed against her lips, she didn't feel disgusted; when his fingertip was bitten, she didn't feel any resistance.
If she were to actually fall in love and get married in the future, she would inevitably encounter people doing such intimate things to her. The stirrings of adolescence could easily lead to wild fantasies, and Pingyu tried to follow Nezha's words, imagining what it would be like to spend her days with her beloved. But as soon as she closed her eyes, every face that appeared in her mind would eventually dissipate, revealing Nezha's appearance. Therefore, she didn't close her eyes for long, not wanting to see herself and Nezha together. She couldn't fall for Nezha, she couldn't like him.
If you violate either of these prohibitions, you will be reluctant to leave this era in the future.
Pingyu dislikes the Yin-Shang dynasty, but likes the people he meets here.
You'll probably forget me by then.
Thinking of this, Pingyu closed his eyes and turned over.
There's nothing we can do about it.
The night was long, and Pingyu found it difficult to fall asleep.
Nezha sat cross-legged on the bed, his face showing meditation but his heart restless. He felt that Pingyu liked him. Just as Pingyu could sense Nezha's feelings from his behavior, Nezha could easily discern Pingyu's thoughts.
Why can't we be honest with each other?
Nezha opened his eyes and tapped the Qiankun Ring with his fingers, producing two long rings: There is nothing that the two of them cannot solve when they are together.
However, they weren't the only ones having trouble sleeping.
In spring, insects chirp, and frogs leap and croak in the camp. In the cooks' quarters, the number of people asleep has changed. Because of what the two immortals said today, Wang Tian's room has been emptied tonight.
Most people chose to squeeze into the bedside of someone they knew, returning only after the demon Wang Tian carried had been captured. Even with the talisman given to him by Nezha, Wang Tian still couldn't find peace. There was no one else in the tent besides him; the air was thin, and the draft sounded like weeping. He curled up into a ball, pulling the blankets up to his ears. Nezha's words about "demonic energy" resonated deeply within Wang Tian, a chill creeping down his spine.
Why did you come to me?
Wang Tian bit his finger:
I have done nothing to wrong you.
Cold sweat soaked the entire thin blanket, the fabric sticking to his body, making him want to turn over. A rustling sound of turning over came from beside him, and Wang Tian was about to turn around, but suddenly froze in place.
...
He was the only one in the tent, but...
He hasn't turned his life around yet?
The wind still howled, its whispers like willow catkins seeping into Wang Tian's ear canals. It gradually distorted, the musical notes slowly transforming into human mouths and tongues, licking at his ears. The talisman he held in his bosom was burning hot, tickling his skin. Wang Tian dared not move, dared not turn over, his gaze fixed on the extinguished candlestick before him.
The moonlight was intense, reflecting off the metal like a mirror.
In the "mirror," Wang Tian saw a strand of hair flowing into the back of his neck.
After the darkness, his skin was pale and bluish-white.
Author's Note: Happy National Day! Drinking...less updates...
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