Chapter 88
Dawn was approaching, and the first rays of sunlight were beginning to appear.
Xie Qianjing stood quietly in the courtyard, his plain white robe spotless, even the folds of the hem seemed meticulously ironed. A few drops of morning dew clung to the ends of his hair, glistening in the dawn's light, as if he had just strolled back from the bamboo forest through the morning mist.
His features were relaxed and his expression serene, with no trace of the surge of spiritual energy around him.
There were also countless broken hostas in the garden.
Sheng Ningyu's gaze paused. The flowers that had been standing tall and graceful just moments before were now lying prostrate in the mud, their white stamens covered in filth, silently proclaiming the hidden killing in the stillness.
Sheng Ningyu glanced at him from the corner of her eye and suddenly smiled.
This time, she didn't hesitate at all. She immediately channeled her spiritual energy and stepped forward, firmly taking Xie Qianjing's hand in hers.
Since he said he wasn't afraid of pain, what else did she have to be so carefree about?
Not only that, Sheng Ningyu, taking advantage of Xie Qianjing's indulgence, went even further, pulling his arm down a little, raising her eyebrows high, standing on tiptoe, and resting her chin on his shoulder: "You heard everything?"
Xie Qianjing ran his fingers along her wrist, then looked down at the scar: "What did you hear?"
His expression was so calm that Sheng Ningyu couldn't tell for a moment.
Did he genuinely not hear clearly, or did he hear clearly and want her to repeat herself?
But Sheng Ningyu was not such an obedient person. She said in a nonchalant tone, "I was just saying that I didn't bring any spirit stones or silver coins, so I was going to take you, the famous Demon Lord, out to sell you for money."
Xie Qianjing did not show the slightest displeasure upon hearing these almost frivolous words.
He lowered his eyes slightly, his long eyelashes casting a faint shadow in the morning light, as if he were truly deep in thought. Then he raised his eyes again, his dark, jade-like eyes curving gently, a faint smile spreading across them. That subtle tenderness flowed in his eyes, finally settling into an extremely beautiful arc.
The dawn light slowly fell upon him, layer upon layer, as if to completely melt the snow-like youth.
The morning light flickered in his eyes.
At this moment, Xie Qianjing seemed to be enveloped in a layer of pure light, so beautiful that he seemed otherworldly. In particular, the red mark between his eyebrows did not appear to be a flaw at this moment; instead, as the light flowed, it added to his ethereal beauty.
Like a fairy who should be pure and detached from worldly desires beside a god or Buddha, she inadvertently lowers her eyes and ventures into the mortal world.
His voice was gentle and soft, yet it held a captivating allure: "Then I think I should be worth a good price."
It looks absolutely beautiful.
Sheng Ningyu was momentarily stunned by that smile.
She has always loved exquisite and beautiful things, but she has also always been fickle, liking something today and then ignoring it tomorrow. Back then, the Sword Master Guihai had to temper her temper quite a bit because of this.
But the old man died too early, and he never managed to correct Sheng Ningyu's temper; at most, he only made her better at hiding it.
But Xie Qianjing is different.
He was handsome whether he smiled or not, handsome when he was indifferent, and even extremely handsome when he was about to kill her.
Every inch, every moment, is beautiful.
Ever since she met Xie Qianjing, putting aside everything else, Sheng Ningyu has never felt the slightest bit annoyed by his face.
For example, right now, whenever he smiles like that, she unconsciously loses her senses for a moment.
No, no, that's not good.
Sheng Ningyu turned her face away somewhat guiltily, coughed lightly, and spoke in a loud voice towards the courtyard with its fluttering curtains.
"Thank you for your hospitality these past few days, Second Senior Brother. However, I have other important matters to attend to, so... I'll take my leave now."
Sheng Ningyu moved extremely quickly; before she could finish speaking, she had already grabbed Xie Qianjing's wrist and was about to leave.
But the person in the pavilion understood her far better than she had imagined.
It's not that they can't break free, but there's no need to go to great lengths.
There's no need to be in such a hurry.
A long, beautiful hand emerged from behind the heavy curtains, gently pulling the moonlit veil aside. The movement was extremely light and slow, carrying an almost precious care, as if settling a fleeting, irretrievable dream.
At the same time, a streak of light broke through the dawn.
The object was slender, its entire body shimmering with a warm, jade-like luster. Intricate patterns were finely carved on it with gold thread, and it shone brightly in the rising sun. Its shape was indeed like a jade flute.
But Sheng Ningyu knew that this was not a jade flute.
It was a sword, a sword so beautiful it was unparalleled.
A hint of admiration flashed in Sheng Ningyu's eyes. She turned her head and whispered to the person beside her, "This is my second senior brother's Qinggui Sword."
Xie Qianjing nodded slightly, looking ahead, and praised in the same tone, "It is a fine sword."
The longsword hovered silently in the air, blocking their path. The blade was enveloped in pure spiritual energy, emitting a low but clear hum, and even the incongruous, somewhat crudely carved wooden jade hairpin flower on the hilt trembled slightly.
The jade hairpin flower is crudely made, which is completely inconsistent with the elegant and impeccably perfect jade-colored sword body. In fact, at first glance, it looks quite out of place.
Especially now.
Xie Qianjing's gaze swept over the mud not far away.
There, the fallen petals of the snow-white jade hairpin lay scattered on the ground, a sight that, when viewed alongside this sword, inexplicably sent shivers down one's spine, and also...
I felt a pang of compassion.
"Junior sister."
Rong Que's figure appeared gracefully from the morning mist.
He was dressed in a sky-blue, floor-length, wide-sleeved celestial robe, the hem of which floated in the air, layered like flowing clouds.
As the elegant young master approached, the soft fabric brushed against the dew-kissed grass in the soft morning light, trailing silently on the ground with a graceful and refined air.
As he approached, Rong Que raised his hand, his well-defined fingers firmly grasping the Qinggui Sword suspended in the air.
The sword trembled slightly, then instantly returned to silence in the palm of the hand.
As his gaze shifted, Rong Que's eyes swept lightly over Xie Qianjing, who stood quietly beside Sheng Ningyu, without lingering or changing his expression. It was as ordinary as a gentle breeze brushing across the water.
But he used a different form of address.
"Bright Moon".
Rong Que slightly turned his head, his gaze lingering on the magical artifact in his palm for a moment, his fingertips gently caressing the flower stamen, seemingly somewhat uncertain.
"You've been staring at my sword."
Rong Que followed Sheng Ningyu's gaze and circled his sword once more.
The once elegant and perfect gentleman now appeared somewhat relaxed, his voice trailed off softly, and his expression was no longer as composed as before, but rather tinged with uncertainty and even caution.
He paused for a moment after speaking.
"Do...do you still remember this wood carving?"
Sheng Ningyu glanced at it and thought to herself, "Of course I remember."
This thing was carved by her when she was young, for Rong Que.
It's not entirely true that it was "for the purpose of learning wood carving." At that time, Sheng Ningyu was restless and kept saying she wanted to learn wood carving, but she couldn't settle down. In the end, she only managed to complete a few passable pieces under Rong Que's guidance.
The term "passable" simply means that one can discern the shape of the flower, preventing one from mistaking it for a rough, uneven wooden ball.
But Sheng Ningyu didn't care. Carrying her masterpiece, she ran all over the mountains and fields, asking her teachers, relatives and friends to attach it to her magic weapon.
Those who were more lenient with her, such as Yuan Bushu and his mother, would rack their brains for words, and in the end, they would reluctantly praise her, saying, "Mingyue's work is always unique."
As for Yan Ruchao, he would only sneer and turn to leave.
Those of Sheng Ningyu's peers who were closer to her were much more straightforward.
Feng Xiaosheng looked disgusted. When Sheng Ningyu tried to hang these on her fan, he used his spiritual power to retreat directly, leaving behind the words, "Although I am not so poor as to only perch on the parasol tree or drink from the sweet spring, there is really no need to insult me with these things."
Feng Qingli, who had not yet changed his name at that time, was speechless and said, "If you have so much free time, you might as well come and exchange a few more moves with me."
Even Han Yuyi, after a moment of silence, politely declined: "This item has a unique style, but it is not really compatible with my magic weapon. Mingyue, please choose another master for them."
Sheng Ningyu laughed heartily at all the comments, whether good or bad, accepting them all without reservation, though she would occasionally offer a few rebuttals.
"That's because you're not lucky enough to understand my masterpiece."
"Tsk, you have such poor taste, you're blind to such a beautiful thing."
"Alright, I'll carve a few more and then bring them to my senior sister to take a look."
Sheng Ningyu replied tirelessly, as if she would be happy even if they rolled their eyes or cursed at her.
But once the initial excitement wore off, Sheng Ningyu suddenly found it uninteresting.
She just likes to talk nonsense; she's not really blind.
The things I carved myself, to say nothing of anything else, are nothing compared to the goods in those small wood carving stalls that you can see everywhere in the mortal world.
The young Sheng Ningyu was far more decisive in her love and hate than the current Sheng Ningyu is.
She only likes exquisite and beautiful things, and anything that isn't exquisite or beautiful, even if she doesn't say it, annoys her.
The girl tilted her head and looked at the things on the table for a while, the tassels on her head swaying back and forth. Her thoughts gradually calmed down and she became extremely calm.
Whether it was the unrestrained laughter when playing with friends, the novelty and curiosity of immersing oneself in wood carving, or the satisfaction of successfully playing pranks on teachers and seeing their helpless expressions... all these emotions have become extremely indifferent.
Looking at those strangely shaped wood carvings again, Sheng Ningyu no longer found them interesting.
Not only did she not find it interesting, she even found it somewhat tiresome.
Once the initial novelty wears off, these wood carvings lose their meaning; they feel out of place in a room, and useless in a starry sky.
Because she carved them herself, and there was no sentimental gift from anyone else, they were just a few insignificant stones.
Sheng Ningyu sat on the three thousand steps of the Sword Pavilion and thought for a while before easily making a decision.
However, just after she lit a bonfire beside the three thousand steps, a gentle breeze came.
Then a gentle voice came from the wind: "Fire can easily injure people. Since you are afraid, why don't you put your things down first?"
At that moment, Sheng Ningyu turned around in surprise, looked at the person who had come, and asked uncertainly, "Second Senior Brother?"
She looked in the direction Rong Que had come from and asked curiously, "Senior brother, did you come from Master's place? Has Master finally chosen a sword for you? Senior brother, I want to see your sword!"
Yan Ruchao already had her own natal sword, "Peerless," while Sheng Ningyu, the Sword Master of Guihai, had also opened a sword pavilion for her some time ago and selected the most suitable sword for her.
Only Rong Que, for reasons unknown, had not yet opened the pavilion to select a sword for him, even slower than her junior sister.
Under Sheng Ningyu's persistent questioning, Rong Que pursed his lips and remained silent, but carefully took her hand.
Then, raising his hand, a gust of wind came, carrying a clear and cool spiritual energy, and the flames that had been burning fiercely just moments before instantly went out.
Only a few wisps of smoke rose, reflecting on Rong Que's somewhat pale profile.
Spiritual power cannot be used on the three thousand steps, so Rong Que did not go forward. Instead, he led Sheng Ningyu back a few steps to the pavilion by the pool on the three thousand steps.
After confirming that she was unharmed, Rong Que gently reprimanded her, "If you are afraid of fire, why did you light a fire next to the three thousand steps?"
Sheng Ningyu was afraid of fire.
Back then, in order to become a disciple of the Sword Master Guihai, she almost turned the three thousand steps in front of the Sword Pavilion into a sea of fire at the very end.
This matter is not a secret; many people in Jian Ge know about it.
"Senior brother, why is your face so pale?"
Sheng Ningyu spoke very quickly, and with a hint of hidden pride, she recounted to Rong Que what she had done in the past few days, like a child who hadn't grown up, showing off to an elder who had returned from a trip that she had done very well without their company.
However, the moment Sheng Ningyu saw Rong Que's expression, her brows furrowed and her demeanor changed abruptly.
Those who cultivate immortality grow slowly, and at first glance, Sheng Ningyu appeared to be nothing more than a young girl in her prime. Her face, still bearing the traces of baby fat, should have carried a touch of childish innocence, but at this moment it was taut, her expression serious beyond her years.
Such a sight might normally elicit a smile. However, at this moment, the chilling sword intent that suddenly erupted from the girl's body was like a sudden frost, and its fierce aura was enough to make anyone who wanted to approach tremble and hastily retreat.
This sword cultivator's future is bound to be limitless.
"Who was it? Who bullied Second Senior Brother? Did Eldest Senior Brother beat you up too? Or did Old Man Yuan give you bitter medicine?"
Sheng Ningyu guessed one by one, but Rong Que's expression remained unchanged. He neither nodded nor shook his head, but Sheng Ningyu could sense his emotions from his words and he denied each one.
"Could it be that Feng Xiaohong is also being sarcastic towards you? No, it couldn't be Senior Brother Yuan..."
"Was it Master?" Sheng Ningyu's tone fell softly, then suddenly rose sharply, "Did Master reprimand you?"
Rong Que's expression remained unchanged, but this time, Sheng Ningyu became extremely certain.
"What is Master doing?!"
She slammed her natal sword on the table with a "bang," then gripped it tightly, and stormed off to the main peak of the Sword Pavilion to find the Sword Master Guihai.
"I'm going to the main peak! I want justice for my second senior brother!"
However, Sheng Ningyu did not leave because someone grabbed her hand.
Rong Que shook his head, lowering his eyes as he continued to apply medicine to the small wound on her hand: "No need."
"What do you mean 'unnecessary'?" Compared to Rong Que, whose attitude remained unchanged and whose face was only slightly pale, Sheng Ningyu, who was clearly unrelated to the matter, was even more furious. "Why does Master do this? Again and again..." Sheng Ningyu pursed her lips and didn't finish her sentence, but she was still angry.
Looking at Rong Que, Sheng Ningyu always felt that her senior brother was perfect in every way.
That is indeed the case.
Rong Que possessed exceptional elegance and his cultivation and temperament were outstanding among his peers. Anyone who saw him would praise him as "a gentleman as jade."
However, the Sword Master Guihai treated him extremely harshly, frequently reprimanding him and demanding so much that it was almost inhuman. To this day, he has not opened the Sword Pavilion to allow him to choose a natal spirit sword, only permitting him to practice with an ordinary wooden sword.
Therefore, even though he was in the Sword Pavilion, which was known as the "Holy Land of Sword Cultivators Under Heaven," and even though he was the personal disciple of Ning Guihai, the Supreme Sword Master of the World, Rong Que always carried a seven-stringed zither in his sleeve when he went out.
When the clear sound begins, spiritual power moves with the strings, bringing victory to the enemy. The posture is graceful and composed, and the soul dissipates with the passing of the music.
Everyone says that the second disciple of the Sword Pavilion is really different; he is more like a musician than a swordsman.
But this was clearly not something Rong Que wanted to do.
Sheng Ningyu didn't understand the zither, but she thought she understood her second senior brother.
No matter how beautifully the clear and melodious music was played, or how elegant the posture of playing the zither was, it was ultimately not what he desired. Whenever he put down the strings and fell silent, a very faint trace of loneliness would always flash across his eyes, so fleeting that no one could catch it.
Especially after she obtained her natal sword, Rong Que remained silent for a long time, and even stopped playing the zither.
Sheng Ningyu clenched her fists. She didn't say anything more, but turned her head away and said indignantly, "Senior brother is so good, what else is Master dissatisfied with? This is clearly favoritism!"
Hearing her childish words, Rong Que paused slightly in his application of the medicine. His fingertips, glistening with a luminous light, hovered above the deepest wound on her shoulder, remaining motionless for a long time.
The wound was quite severe; a thin scab had just formed, and it was slightly bulging, vaguely suggesting that not long ago, the flesh had been torn apart.
Silence spread between the two, with only the faint sound of the morning breeze brushing against the curtains.
Rong Que watched for a while, then suddenly let out a laugh.
With that laugh, he finally raised his head to look at his junior sister.
He said, "Junior sister, only you think I'm perfect in every way."
Sheng Ningyu breathed a sigh of relief, but said unconvinced, "Senior brother is a young genius whose reputation has already spread throughout the sects of the Fourteen Continents. Why should you belittle yourself?"
Upon hearing this, Rong Que simply shook his head, neither admitting nor refuting.
His gaze fell on the longsword that Sheng Ningyu had slammed on the table. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Junior Sister, do you still believe what you said back then?"
Sheng Ningyu was taken aback: "What?"
Rong Que was still looking at the sword on the table.
Its brilliance is boundless, its unrestrained and extraordinary nature embodies the endless splendor of heaven and earth, yet it is so unruly that it does not let anything settle in its heart.
With sword intent reaching for the clouds, he is the best among men.
Just like the person.
His eyes trembled slightly as he slowly said, "Junior Sister once said that if she were to have a natal sword in the future, she would name it 'Flawless'. Do you still believe her?"
Sheng Ningyu... Sheng Ningyu hasn't forgotten.
This name is great; it's easy to pronounce and remember, and Sheng Ningyu likes it too.
But ever since she obtained her natal sword that day, she has always had a vague feeling that her sword shouldn't have this name.
Sheng Ningyu had asked her senior brother about naming her natal sword.
The eldest brother said that the name of the Peerless Sword immediately popped into his mind after he obtained it, but Sheng Ningyu felt completely empty after obtaining her own natal sword.
Could it be that this sword is not suitable for me?
Sheng Ningyu told her senior brother Yan Ruchao about her doubts, and the other party, unusually, calmed down and said, "That's not the case."
"The sword is naturally yours, but perhaps you acquired it earlier, and the time for it to be named has not yet come." Seeing Sheng Ningyu's blank expression, Yan Ruchao rarely wanted to comfort her, but he was not good at this. After thinking for a while, he uttered a few words stiffly.
"Don't be anxious, and don't rush things."
That's some consolation, at best.
If a sword has no name, it cannot unleash its full power.
Sheng Ningyu couldn't help but be anxious. She had finally managed to calm herself down and started looking for other excuses to distract herself, but now the matter had been brought up again.
However, the words "flawless" do sound very nice. Moreover, these are indeed words she once said.
Sheng Ningyu didn't think for long before she nodded decisively: "Yes, my sword is flawless, I roam freely between heaven and earth."
Upon hearing these words, Rong Que's aura, which had been subtly tense since his appearance, suddenly relaxed. His wide sleeves fell, his brows relaxed, and in the blink of an eye, he regained his usual dignified and composed demeanor.
“My master has also chosen a sword for me.”
Before Sheng Ningyu could delve into the details of the phrase "choosing a sword," she heard Rong Que speak again.
"My sword is named 'Pure Rules'."
Rules of conduct? What is that? Her senior brother isn't one of those bald monks in temples who meditate and chant sutras all day. Why would he need to memorize any 'rules of conduct'?
If the second senior brother is like this, then why doesn't Master stop him?
Sheng Ningyu never hid her feelings from those close to her. Rong Que knew what she was thinking as soon as he looked up, and couldn't help but smile. He explained, "I used to be addicted to unorthodox arts like playing the zither. Now that I have obtained the sword, I naturally want to turn over a new leaf. My master listened to my words and found them reasonable."
Before Sheng Ningyu could say anything more, Rong Que changed the subject again.
"Has Mingyue been busy with these kinds of things lately?"
With a slight movement of his fingertips, he touched those crudely made pieces of wood, making them appear even more unsightly.
Sheng Ningyu was unusually agitated, her cheeks slightly flushed: "He's still my senior brother. He left halfway through teaching me before, and when he came back, he refused to teach me anymore."
Rong Que paused, his hand landing on a wooden carving.
He looked up and sighed, "It's because Master forbids me from teaching you anymore, for fear that you will change your mind."
"That old man is quite nosy," Sheng Ningyu muttered under her breath. When she met Rong Que's gaze and saw the faint smile in his eyes, she felt a bit embarrassed and annoyed.
She defiantly shifted the blame: "It's all my senior's fault for not teaching me. I had to figure it out on my own, and that's all I could come up with!"
Despite calling her "ugly thing," Sheng Ningyu's expression was open and honest, clearly indicating that she didn't take it to heart.
Even though she created what the world considered "ugly," and even though others mocked her work, she remained open and honest.
Rong Que smiled good-naturedly and followed her words, saying, "Then how does Mingyue want me to make it up to her?"
As he spoke, he slowly took out his newly acquired natal sword, Qinggui, from his Star River Pouch and placed it on the table alongside Sheng Ningyu's sword.
Sheng Ningyu was immediately drawn to the scene.
It is Rong Que's natal sword, the Sword of Pure Rules.
This sword is long and slender, its blade gleaming and reflecting the sunlight with a jade-like luster. A soft, shimmering light seems to float on its surface, not dazzling, yet captivating, like moonlight condensed on a flower's petal. Along the spine, fine, hair-like runes are subtly embedded, immediately revealing its extraordinary origin.
It is indeed a rare and excellent sword.
Sheng Ningyu breathed a sigh of relief.
She didn't dare ask too many questions just now, fearing that the Sword Master Guihai would show favoritism again and casually picked up a sword to appease him.
Only after seeing Rong Que's sword did he finally feel completely at ease.
Sheng Ningyu exclaimed, "This sword is beautiful; it's worthy of Second Senior Brother!"
Rong Que smiled gently, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, but then he heard the girl beside him raise her voice and deliberately draw out her words: "Such a beautiful sword should have an even more beautiful decoration on its hilt."
Rong Que turned his head and saw Sheng Ningyu making a face at him with a bright smile: "Senior brother, why don't you pick one of my works and embed it in the hilt of this sword?"
"OK."
etc.
The girl's animated expression froze, and she asked in disbelief, "Wait, Second Senior Brother, what did you say?"
Rong Que said calmly, "I said, 'Okay.'"
Sheng Ningyu's eyes widened suddenly.
It was just a load of nonsense, yet the second senior brother actually took it seriously?
My apologies!
Rong Que's tone was calm yet undeniable: "It's not a waste. I also think your wood carving is a perfect match for my sword."
Sheng Ningyu looked at the bizarre wooden carvings on the table with disbelief, then at her second senior brother, who was as dignified and untainted as a fairy, and couldn't help but ask another meaningless question.
"ah?"
Seeing Sheng Ningyu's blank expression, Rong Que's face remained pale, but his expression completely relaxed.
"Why are you making such a sound? Is it because you have no one to talk to while I'm away, so you can only mutter to Big Yellow every day?"
Fake.
In fact, when Rong Que was not around, Sheng Ningyu spent most of her time practicing swordsmanship.
However, this string of incoherent words sounded extremely fake, and Sheng Ningyu felt that her second senior brother must know that she was just talking nonsense again.
She thought that whether her senior brother gently scolded her for talking nonsense, or took the opportunity to drag her to the old man to ask for medicine to cure her "mute" voice, she would accept it.
For many days in the past, she and Rong Que had been like this.
Everyone knows that this junior disciple of the Sword Pavilion is a reckless troublemaker who is not afraid of even her teachers and elders. Only her handsome second senior brother always has a way to control her.
But this time, Rong Que did not follow through with that statement.
He simply turned his head and lowered his eyes again, and Sheng Ningyu could not see his expression at all. She could only hear his voice, which was as light as a breeze that scattered fallen petals, drifting into her ears.
"I see," Rong Que said. "Junior Sister, please choose an accessory for me."
The table was a mess. Sheng Ningyu looked at her "masterpiece" and then at the elegant and refined Qinggui Sword, and really didn't know where to start.
Sheng Ningyu: "I treat the works like my disciples. Looking at them, I feel that each one is extraordinary and indescribably good. It is really difficult to choose. Why don't you choose, senior brother?"
Rong Que sensed her predicament and smiled again.
“If that’s the case,” he said slowly, “then I’ll take the ‘disciple’ whose hand was most deeply injured.”
As for the others...
Rong Que smiled and, in front of Sheng Ningyu, lit a fire on the three thousand steps.
"I'm here, watching my junior sister cook."
Sheng Ningyu raised her eyebrows: "I was interrupted by my senior brother just now. This time I'm going to burn on the three thousand steps!"
Rong Que thought for a moment and nodded: "Okay."
Rong Que did not lie.
This upright and noble young master actually used the simplest tinderbox to start a fire on the three thousand steps, watching Sheng Ningyu carelessly burn the puppet.
"Can we go back now?"
"I'm tired." Sheng Ningyu squatted on the ground, stretched out her hands, and said lazily, "Senior brother, lead me."
Rong Que shook his head with a slight smile: "I can't be bothered with you."
Even so, he extended his hand without hesitation.
The senior and junior disciples walked side by side, their clothes fluttering gently in the breeze.
The sun shines brightly overhead, casting its light through the lush foliage. As the light and shadow sway, the seasons turn, like an inextinguishable flame, lengthening their shadows.
Inch by inch, it is engraved on every single step of the three thousand steps.
...
As dawn breaks and the first rays of sunlight burst forth, it is like a raging fire.
This time, Sheng Ningyu remained silent for quite a long time.
Xie Qianjing lowered his eyes, his dark eyelashes tinged with sunlight.
He stared at her for as long as she remained silent.
So long that Rong Que could not ignore him. He turned to him and said in a gentle and humble tone, "I am Mingyue's second senior brother. As for the rest... Lord Demon Lord should have heard many old stories."
Sheng Ningyu was startled by the voice and snapped back to her senses. She heard the person beside her speak, but only three words came out.
"Xie Qianjing."
Compared to Rong Que's gentleness, Xie Qianjing's voice was as cold as shattered jade thrown into a spring, which surprised Sheng Ningyu.
What's wrong? Are you not going to pretend anymore?
However, the coldness of that voice reminded Sheng Ningyu of the Bodhi Immortal Lord of the past.
In those still-warm fragments of memory that she had just retrieved, the little immortal lord, always dressed in white, always spoke with a chilling tone in his voice when he first opened his mouth.
The cold was unusual, almost like snow falling alone on a mountaintop in the deepest forest, carrying a chill untouched by the mundane world. A single word from it could freeze a person into an ice sculpture on the spot.
Sheng Ningyu replied fluently, "Second Senior Brother should have heard many rumors about me and him."
She turned her head and, sure enough, saw Xie Qianjing's lips curl up slightly.
The smile on Rong Que's lips faded.
The two people opposite were holding hands, and they really looked...very well-matched.
"As for what my senior brother asked me earlier, I certainly remember. But just as my senior brother would hide this wooden ornament, I was a little surprised to see it for the first time."
Sheng Ningyu certainly recognized what she had made.
The silence just now, aside from a moment of reminiscence, was mostly spent in contemplation.
Why now of all times?
"Junior sister, do you really not know?"
Rong Que smiled slightly: "I've kept this item extremely well, and I rarely show it to anyone, for fear of damaging it. But in those words just now, Junior Sister's every word..."
He paused, his gaze falling on Xie Qianjing and Sheng Ningyu's clasped hands. His tone softened, but his enunciation remained extremely clear.
“Every word and phrase seems to be a sign of my doubt.”
It consists of only eight characters.
His tone was flat, his emotions were indifferent, and there was no excessive embellishment. Yet, like an unsharpened, blunt knife, it precisely wedged the blade into the softest part of his heart, grinding it little by little until his heart bled profusely.
A persistent, dull ache spread from the depths of my heart. It wasn't excruciating, but it weighed heavily on the soul, even making my fingertips feel a fine, icy chill.
The pressure was too heavy, and Sheng Ningyu's breathing slowed down slightly.
The warm, smooth feel of the rough wooden carving seemed to linger on her fingertips.
Just moments ago, the carefree days when her natal sword was named were still vivid in her mind. The daylight was perfect then, and the young Rong Que, with his flowing sleeves, shielded her from any sparks that might ignite her clothes, without hesitation or second thought.
Just moments ago, they were walking side by side.
But a moment later, they stood facing each other, an old sword lying between them, severing the years that had passed.
Sheng Ningyu had no choice but to strip away all the warm memories of the past, dissect them with the sharpest gaze, remove all the tenderness from them, and speculate about him with the most unbearable suspicion and the darkest methods.
Force him to respond, force him to prove himself.
"However, I am indeed suspicious."
Rong Que gave a self-deprecating laugh, and without giving Sheng Ningyu a time to respond, he turned to Xie Qianjing and said softly, "The Demon Lord has quite the methods."
Sheng Ningyu reacted quickly, almost instantly losing her detached expression. She instinctively stepped in front of Xie Qianjing and frowned at Rong Que, saying, "Even if he is suspicious, it is my fault alone. Why is Senior Brother being so harsh on him?"
Criticism?
But if you ask a question, how can you be considered "harsh"?
The cold fingers beneath the wide sleeves suddenly clenched, the fingertips repeatedly piercing the flesh of the palm.
Xie Qianjing raised his eyes, glanced at Rong Que indifferently, and suddenly a smile appeared on his face.
"It's alright."
He tugged at Sheng Ningyu's hand, and as his sleeves swayed, a gust of wind revealed their intertwined fingers.
"You did not call me the Acting Pavilion Master wrong. I am indeed the current Lord of the Demon Realm, and my reputation is not good."
The more composed he was, the more it made Rong Que's earlier petty calculations seem like a poor choice.
Rong Que's brow twitched, and he stopped arguing with him, instead saying to Sheng Ningyu, "The biggest misunderstanding has now been resolved, as for the rest..."
"It's really not a shameful thing. If you insist, Junior Sister, I can tell you little by little."
Rong Que knew that Sheng Ningyu was stubborn.
This sword master, described by many as aloof and cold as the moon, is actually far less indifferent than he appears.
Sheng Ningyu possessed a nature that could be described as "mischievous." She would discard things that were easily obtained, but things she had never had always captivated her.
This time, however, Sheng Ningyu gently shook her head: "Senior brother, there's no need for that. Just now, I was being too attached to appearances."
Rong Que was taken aback by these words, and subconsciously tightened his grip on the wooden carving of the sword hilt. Before he could say anything, he saw Sheng Ningyu raise her head, a smile suddenly blooming on her lips.
That smile was bright and ardent, carrying a long-lost, unrestrained exuberance. Her brows sparkled with a light, like the rising sun breaking through the clouds. In that instant, the person before me perfectly overlapped with the image of the girl in my memory, a girl who had not yet borne any burdens.
It was as if the barriers that had stood between the two of them over the years had vanished briefly with that smile.
"I shouldn't have pressured you in the first place. If you're not willing, then I won't say anything more."
Before Sheng Ningyu's words had even finished, and the last syllable was still lingering in the cool air, Rong Que's warm voice seamlessly followed, sounding exceptionally clear in the sudden silence.
He answered so naturally, so quickly, so tacitly, as if he had already anticipated what she would say, without even a moment's hesitation.
As soon as those words were spoken, Sheng Ningyu suddenly increased the force on her wrist.
However, before the force could even fully reach her skin, it was withdrawn by its owner, so quickly that it seemed like an illusion.
Only Sheng Ningyu knew that the bulging veins on Xie Qianjing's hand were definitely not fake.
She turned her head to look at Xie Qianjing, and Xie Qianjing also stared intently at her.
As if the sunlight knew where to shine, the moment Sheng Ningyu opened her mouth, large swaths of sunlight fell, covering her entire body, blurring her features and expression, leaving only an outline visible.
In what seemed like an instant, she transformed from Sheng Ningyu, who had just been teasing him with raised eyebrows, into the cold and aloof Sword Master in everyone's eyes.
Under Sheng Ningyu's gaze, Xie Qianjing actually smiled slightly, as if he understood her choice: "Staying here is not necessarily a bad thing."
He knows.
Xie Qianjing had heard the name "Rong Que" a long, long time ago.
In the materials he deliberately collected, and in the past she casually mentioned.
He knew that Rong Que was the second disciple of the Sword Master of the Sword Pavilion.
He knew that some people praised Rong Que as "the number one young master".
He knew that in the cultivation world, there were still people who compared the two of them.
Xie Qianjing also knew.
Of all living beings, she cherished Sword Pavilion the most, and within Sword Pavilion, she treated Rong Que differently.
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Author's Note: Sheng Ningyu: [Melted] Didn't you ask me to take you away? Are you just giving up like this?
Don't misunderstand our Xie Xiaolian! Second Senior Brother is very, very strong. It takes skill for Xiaolian to find and break the formation without harming her insides!
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