96. The Pursuit (Part Two)
"You're my trouble."
At the foot of Biluo Mountain, there is a Xiangyu Wine Shop.
Outside the tavern, two sword cultivators sat with their legs crossed, munching on peanuts. Slightly tipsy, they began gossiping:
Blue-robed swordsman: "Hey, have you heard?" "That female demon seems to have left the Discipline Hall..."
The old man in gray looked disapproving and said, "How can you talk about our benefactor like that? Go away, go sit at a table by yourself!"
The blue-clad swordsman chuckled, "Hey, hey, I'm just used to calling you that, aren't I? My mistake, my mistake, you're my benefactor, you're my benefactor!"
The old man in gray nodded solemnly, "I just don't know, since this benefactor left the Discipline Hall and didn't return to Feifeng, where did he go?"
The blue-robed swordsman said, "Hey, mind your own business. The spiritual energy in this realm is abundant everywhere. Even if we were to live as rogue cultivators, we would be carefree and at ease."
The old man in gray said with a mocking expression, "You've become a rogue cultivator, but as for being carefree, I doubt it."
The blue-clad swordsman leaned closer and whispered, "What do you mean? What do you mean?"
The old man in gray also leaned closer and said, "I heard that the chief disciple of the Discipline Hall is relentlessly pursuing his benefactor. As the saying goes, even a virtuous woman can be won over by persistent suitors. I think these two... tsk tsk..."
The two were engrossed in their conversation when a loud noise suddenly came from the next table. A pot of wine was slammed onto the table, and the two looked in the direction of the noise.
A woman dressed in bright red, with an antique wooden hairpin in her hair, possessed extraordinary beauty, with starry eyes and red lips, and a captivating smile: "Immortal Lord has been chasing me all the way from the far north White Void to the western Buddha's Hand. What, are you still unwilling to go back?"
Opposite the woman stood a monk in white robes.
The white-robed cultivator also possessed a beautiful face, with delicate features, like the surface of water melting in spring, and a tender gaze.
He nodded and gave a serious "Mmm": "Wherever you go, I will be there."
Ran Qinghe: ...
"Now that the Second Elder has entered the Tower of Babel, and Lou Yi and the other elders are not managing affairs, only your father is left to hold things up. How can you bear to do this?"
Lou Tinglan nodded again: "He has rested for a hundred years, so it's good that he's a little tired now, which can be considered a balance between work and rest."
Ran Qinghe: ...
Ran Qinghe looked at him nodding and suddenly felt like laughing. When Lou Tinglan was her contracted spirit beast, he had developed some good habits: nodding when he said yes and shaking his head when he said no.
She continued to probe, "Really not going back?"
Lou Tinglan stared at her with an extremely serious expression, then gently shook her head: "I'm not going back."
The surrounding seats fell silent for a moment.
The peanut was still in the blue-robed swordsman's mouth, but he forgot to chew it. The gray-robed old man's hand holding the wine bowl stopped in mid-air, his eyes shifting back and forth between the two.
Ran Qinghe felt those two curious yet almost rude gazes and glanced at them sideways.
With just one glance, the gray-robed old man immediately lowered his head and gulped down his wine, while the blue-robed swordsman turned away with a smirk, pretending to study the patterns on the table.
She turned her gaze back to the excessively handsome face before her, then lowered her head and placed two rough earthenware bowls on the table.
"Sit down."
Lou Tinglan sat down as instructed, placing his hands neatly on his knees, but his gaze remained fixed on her face without any attempt to conceal it.
Ran Qinghe picked up the wine jar, filled two bowls, and then pushed one of the bowls over.
"Drink it."
To be honest, this was the first time she had ever drunk this wine. The last time she came here, the wine jar was smashed by two members of the Discipline Hall, preventing her from getting a single sip.
The wine was the shopkeeper's own peach blossom wine, sweet and smooth on the palate, but with a strong aftertaste. Lou Tinglan took it, didn't even look at it, and drank it all in one gulp.
"Why?" She asked herself these three questions countless times along the way. Why did they choose her?
The wine in the bowls was emptied one after another.
"Because I like it."
He had said those four words countless times along the way. Ran Qinghe opened her mouth, but couldn't find the right words to reply. In the end, she could only drink another bowl of wine.
As the alcohol began to take effect, she propped her head up and looked at Lou Tinglan's cheeks, which were slightly flushed from the smell of alcohol. His skin was very fair, so the redness was particularly noticeable, spreading from his cheeks all the way to his ears.
“You’re drunk,” she said.
"No," he denied, but his eyes were more moist than usual.
"I am very clear-headed, and I like it very clearly."
Lou Tinglan's lips parted slightly, her breath carrying the fragrance of osmanthus and the scent of wine. These words lingered between the two of them, making even the surrounding air seem thick and sticky.
The distant chatter of other drinkers only amplified the unusual silence of their corner.
Ran Qinghe felt she needed to say something to break the ice: "You... have been pursuing me for three months."
“Eighty-seven days,” Lou Tinglan corrected, “starting from the day you left the Disciplinary Hall.”
"You remember it so clearly?"
“I know it very clearly every day.” He lowered his eyes, looking at the sloshing liquid in the bowl.
“You stayed by the Canglan River for seven days to wait for the full moon to see the bright moon in the sea. You picked a lot of ginkgo nuts in the Buddha's Hand Ginkgo Forest, but they were all astringent. In the White Void Snowfield, you deliberately took a detour to get away from me, but you got lost and I was the one who found you.”
Ran Qinghe's eyes widened: "You knew I was lost?"
"Hmm." A small smile curved his lips. "I watched you spin around in circles three times, and then angrily kicked the tree."
"You were nearby at the time, why didn't you show yourself?"
She even thought that this person was so lacking in perseverance that he ran away after she dumped him.
"I was afraid you'd be angry," Lou Tinglan said honestly. "During that month in Baixu, you never initiated a conversation with me."
Ran Qinghe: "Lou Tinglan, you really are..."
"Really what?"
“What an idiot,” she said, though there was no reproach in her tone. “The chief disciple of the Discipline Hall, a sword genius that appears only once in a century in the cultivation world, gave up his promising future to run around the world with a demon. If word gets out, your father will lose all face.”
“You’re not a demon,” Lou Tinglan said earnestly, “You’re the one who will save the world.”
Upon hearing this, Ran Qinghe felt incredibly embarrassed and quickly stood up to cover his mouth.
"Alright, alright, stop talking."
Lou Tinglan's lips moved slightly.
Ran Qinghe abruptly withdrew her hand, her fingers curling into her palm, her face flushed red, whether from the smell of alcohol or something else.
"you……"
Lou Tinglan gripped the bowl beside her tightly, her voice trembling with nervousness. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself."
Ran Qinghe: "From when?"
Lou Tinglan gave a soft "hmm," her voice rising at the end as if in doubt, but then she seemed to understand and answered simply and directly:
"The first meeting".
He recalled carefully: "The first time I saw you was when I came out of seclusion, on my uncle's orders, to hunt you down."
No, perhaps even earlier, perhaps it was just the moment he heard her name from someone else that he became curious about this person named Ran Qinghe.
He might have subconsciously thought at the time, how could there be such a vibrant woman in this world?
Later, he met her, and he felt even more strongly that he didn't want this vitality to disappear. Without the control of the Dao Heart Tribulation Seal, he even greedily wanted to possess this vitality.
Ran Qinghe's hand holding the bowl trembled slightly. She thought that perhaps, when she first met him, she couldn't help but provoke him because of his coldness and indifference, and when he remained unmoved, she couldn't resist the urge to provoke him.
“But I won’t go back to the Discipline Hall,” she suddenly said. “And I won’t go to Scarlet Maple either. I’m used to it this way. I can go wherever I want and do whatever I want.”
"I know."
"I have a bad temper and am unpredictable. Who knows, I might cause a big disaster one day."
"I'll help you pack."
"Lou Tinglan, I want you to go back." She heard her own voice tremble slightly.
Lou Tinglan was silent for a moment, then spoke softly, "Okay."
Her heart sank.
“But I will come again tomorrow,” he continued, “and the day after tomorrow, and every day, Ran Qinghe, I want to see you every day.”
She looked up, and Lou Tinglan's face began to blur and sway.
She said slowly, "Lou Tinglan, I might... have drunk too much."
"I know."
"So I might say something... that I'll regret when I wake up."
He stood up, half-squatting in front of her, and gently pressed his hand to the corner of her lips. "Then don't say it." It was as if he was really afraid that she would say something that would keep her at arm's length.
The gesture was so intimate that it made Ran Qinghe's heart skip a beat.
She grabbed his wrist, preventing him from backing away.
"No, right now."
Lou Tinglan held her breath. His wrist was slightly hot under her palm, and his pulse was fast and heavy, like a bird fluttering in a cage.
"Right now." Ran Qinghe repeated, but her fingers unconsciously loosened their grip, as if those three words had exhausted all her reckless courage.
She stared at her reflection in his clear eyes, then suddenly turned her face away and scoffed, "Never mind... it was all drunken talk."
"I want to hear it."
He answered without the slightest hesitation, twisting his wrist to gently grasp her fingers, preventing her from escaping. "Whatever you want to say, whether you're drunk or sober, I'll listen."
It felt like tiny flames flickered where their palms touched. Ran Qinghe tried to pull her hand away, but he held it firmly.
"You..." She glared at him, the redness from her ears spreading up her neck. "Lou Tinglan, do you know that this persistent pursuit is damaging to your reputation as the chief disciple?"
"Hmm." His gaze fell on their clasped hands, his long eyelashes drooping. "I have a feeling that if I let go now, I may never hear what I want to hear again."
They saw right through me.
A mixture of alcohol and a strange sense of shame surged within her chest, and she decided to throw caution to the wind, leaning forward again with a sudden surge of inexplicable courage:
"Okay, then listen carefully."
Her breath brushed against his lips: "Perhaps I'm a little bit like that too..."
"A little something?" he pressed, his voice so low it was almost a whisper, almost coaxing.
“…I like you a little.” After saying that, she immediately turned her head away, grabbed the wine bowl and wanted to drink again, but he pressed the rim of the bowl down first.
"Ran Qinghe," he called her full name, each syllable as if he had carefully cherished it between his teeth, and the light in his eyes suddenly became astonishingly bright.
He didn't speak, but simply held her hand tightly, tightening it little by little until it hurt, yet it felt incredibly real.
"A little is enough."
After a long silence, he spoke in a hoarse voice, "I have a lot, I can share it with you."
He suddenly wrapped his arms around her neck, stopping at an extremely close distance, their noses almost touching, their breaths mingling.
“I’ve remembered what you just said. Whether it was drunken talk or your true feelings, I’ve taken it all seriously. From this moment on, you can’t get rid of me.”
His gaze slowly moved down from her eyes to her tightly pursed lips, lingered for a moment, then restrained himself and looked away, finally only gently pressing his forehead against hers.
The warmth of skin against skin instantly shattered the last barrier of her heart. Ran Qinghe closed her eyes and heard the frantic screaming of her heart in her chest, as well as his disordered breathing.
“Lou Tinglan,” she said softly, with a resigned sigh, “I’m a lot of trouble.”
"Mmm," he responded softly, nuzzling her forehead. "My troubles."
(End of text)
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