In the Dream World, above the Snow Mountain Cloud Sea.
With Ji Wangshu guiding her by the hand, Mu Zhiming finally made it smoothly to the edge of the Market Town.
She wore a Black Eye Veil, a black choker around her neck, and a water-blue Immortal Sect robe that bared her shoulders. Standing amidst the bustling crowd, she was like a lotus rising from the water, detached and alone in the world.
Her appearance naturally drew countless stares. Female Cultivators who passed by turned their heads, lowering their voices in hushed discussion.
Mu Zhiming furrowed her brows, her left hand unconsciously tightening around the Flying Sword in her grip.
To her, who was nearly blind at the moment, the tip of her nose was filled with the scent of rouge and powder, the aroma of snacks and treats, while her ears were filled with the sounds of peddlers hawking and people laughing.
Compared to the scene inside the Immortal Sect, where the only sounds were the whisper of snow and the ring of swords, this was an entirely different world.
Cultivators’ joys and sorrows did not resonate with one another. She simply found them all noisy.
Fortunately, there was still someone familiar behind her.
She turned her head and said softly:
“Wangshu… this place… is too loud.”
“Where is the Treasure Pavilion… take me there.”
With that, the ten fingers gripping his hand tightened slightly, transmitting her unease through their skin.
Ji Wangshu raised an eyebrow but did not let go of her hand.
With the crowd surging all around, he too worried that Mu Zhiming would get lost.
He had just gotten a fine demonstration of just how directionally challenged this girl could be, up there on the Cloud Sea.
He shifted his body forward, placing himself in front of her, and led her pale, delicate jade-like hand through the sea of people until they reached the entrance of the Treasure Pavilion.
“We’re here.”
Ji Wangshu said, releasing her hand gently and coming to a stop.
Mu Zhiming lifted her eyes slightly. Through the Black Veil, she could vaguely sense that this was an enormous building.
She stepped forward, paused at the threshold, then turned her head back.
Her dark brows arched slightly, the black choker gleaming white under the sunlight as she said to Ji Wangshu:
“Aren’t you going to look around?…”
“When you were little… you always said you wanted to come to the Market Town and shop to your heart’s content someday…”
Ji Wangshu let out a sigh.
Shopping was something he had never liked back on Blue Star in his previous life, and now here he was, having to put on a show for it.
But to maintain his role as her Childhood Friend, he could only tug the corners of his mouth upward, forcing a hint of playfulness, and said:
“Yes, I just love coming to the Market Town to shop~”
“Then go on in by yourself, and be careful.”
Mu Zhiming gave a slight nod. Her left hand lifted gently, a wisp of Spiritual Energy flowing from her fingertip, imprinting a mark upon his body.
“Go on…”
She watched as Ji Wangshu quickly disappeared into the crowd. His not-so-tall frame kept his head low, shoulders bobbing up and down like a little dog following a scent, and in no time, he was swallowed by the sea of people.
The corners of her mouth curved up unconsciously, then she turned and stepped into the Treasure Pavilion.
The light inside the Treasure Pavilion dimmed considerably. Her eyes narrowed slightly as her gray-white pupils swept across the room.
She quickly noticed several Female Cultivators, each holding a book, cheeks flushed red, heads bowed, smiling charmingly with beautiful, expectant eyes.
Mu Zhiming raised an eyebrow slightly, her Black Eye Veil swaying gently.
With her old love of reading, had her sight still been intact, she would certainly have gone over to see what wonderful thing it was.
But now, even her cultivation techniques had to be read to her by Ji Wangshu. These little pleasures had nothing to do with her anymore.
At that thought, she unconsciously touched her Eye Veil and sighed.
“Oh my! It’s Fairy Mu from the Immortal Sect!”
A sharp-eyed Treasure Pavilion Clerk had noticed Mu Zhiming the moment she entered the store, and only now approached her, a signature smile plastered on her face.
“What brings you to our pavilion today, Fairy Mu?”
Mu Zhiming swept her Spiritual Sense over the clerk from head to toe without responding to the pleasantries. After a few moments of silence, she asked:
“Do the people in your shop… stay long?”
The clerk was taken aback for a moment. “Y-yes. We rarely change staff.”
“Then do you recognize these two items on me?”
Her tone was indifferent as her finger pointed to her Eye Veil and choker.
The clerk’s gaze paused on the two items for a brief moment, then the smile on her face stiffened.
Ordinary items sold would naturally be forgotten.
But these two pieces had been dead stock in the shop for a long time, and the man who bought them that day was a striking fellow with sharp brows and bright eyes. He had been generous with his spending, so she had assumed he was some naive young master from a good family.
After he left, she and the other staff had laughed and gossiped about him for days.
“…I do recognize them.” The clerk’s voice grew dry.
“Good, then you remember.”
Mu Zhiming gave a slight nod, her tone calm.
The next moment, her Spiritual Energy burst outward, her voice cold as frost. “He paid nine hundred Spirit Stones for them.”
“But this material… is worth no more than three hundred on the market. And you also tricked him… saying he could draw a jackpot prize.”
After hearing those three sentences, a fine layer of sweat had already formed on the clerk’s back, her green dress clinging to her spine, cold and damp.
“F-Fairy Mu… I had no idea he was your man at the time…”
Mu Zhiming did not respond. She continued releasing her Spiritual Energy, the temperature inside the pavilion dropping several degrees. The clerk standing nearest felt her fingers go numb with cold.
The clerk bent at the waist, not daring to raise her head, her voice trembling:
“I-I’ll… make up the difference, six hundred Spirit Stones, I’ll make it up right now.”
Her fingers, stiff with the chill, fumbled tremblingly through her Storage Pouch, retrieving six hundred Spirit Stones and stacking them in her palm.
Just as she was about to hand them over, a thought flashed through her mind: when Mu Zhiming had entered the shop and seen the others reading their storybooks, the slight movement of her Eye Veil, the sigh from her rosy lips—
The clerk’s eyes lit up with a sudden idea, though her face betrayed nothing. She quietly slipped something beneath the Spirit Stones.
Mu Zhiming extended her jade-like hand to take the Spirit Stones, only to find an extra thick booklet beneath them. When her fingertips touched it, there were fine, dense raised dots.
She furrowed her brow slightly. “…What is this?”
“I noticed that when Fairy Mu came in earlier, you looked at the books the others were reading for quite a while.”
“So I took the liberty of bringing one of the same ones they had, except it’s a Braille version. If Fairy Mu likes it, you can read it.”
Upon hearing this, Mu Zhiming withdrew her icy Spiritual Energy, though her brows remained raised. After a moment of hesitation, she said:
“If it costs Spirit Stones… then never mind.”
Her voice was still as aloof as before, but it had already softened a few degrees compared to earlier.
The clerk caught the looseness in her tone and secretly rejoiced, quickly waving her hand:
“This Braille edition was originally a trial copy. If Fairy Mu likes it, it’s yours Free of charge.”
Mu Zhiming took note of the word “Free.”
She gave a light cough, casually stowed both the storybook and the Spirit Stones into her Storage Pouch, and only then spoke:
“…Good.”
Then she turned and swiftly walked out of the Treasure Pavilion, lifting her head to check the sky.
Through her blurred vision, she could vaguely make out a circle of Red Sunset on the horizon, like a sugar cake that someone had taken a bite out of.
She flared her nostrils twice but caught no trace of Ji Wangshu’s scent. He was probably still wandering around the Market Town.
She then found a corner by the steps outside the Treasure Pavilion, and without caring about the dirt, sat down directly on the ground, her legs slightly bent, resting the Braille Storybook on her knees.
If the clerk hadn’t mentioned it, she would have almost forgotten that things like Braille Storybooks even existed in this world.
She supposed she had simply had her sight for so long that everything had become routine, never once thinking that those in the world who were blind, or deaf, or crippled in limb, were also living their days, perceiving the world in their own way.
Mu Zhiming sighed and slowly began flipping through the Braille Storybook.
The first two pages were common character “readings” in Braille. Her fingertips brushed across, paused, and moved, like ants feeling their way, recognizing each character one by one.
After recognizing a few pages, she reached the main text. Curiosity filled her heart, and she wondered what content it held.
“Rustle, rustle.”
The pages turned slowly, and her face gradually flushed with color. Perhaps it was the glow of the Red Sunset, or perhaps it was the stirring within a young woman’s heart.
She pressed her lips tightly together, let out a soft “mm,” then flipped back a page and traced it again. She bit her lower lip, her ears burning hot.
Then she continued “reading,” unaware that the surrounding smells were growing fainter and the sounds ever quieter.
“Whatcha reading?”
Suddenly, a familiar male voice exploded right by her ear, warm breath brushing against her forehead.
“Ah!“
Mu Zhiming was in the middle of a critical part. She jolted at the sound, her fingers snapping the book shut with a crisp “smack.“
She was so startled she nearly threw the book. Lifting her eyes slightly, that familiar face was now inches away, almost pressing against her cheek.
Her cheeks grew even deeper under the Red Sunset. Her body tensed as she leaned backward. After recognizing that it was Ji Wangshu, she let out a breath of relief.
The next moment, she looked down at the Braille Storybook on her knees, then up at Ji Wangshu’s sharp brows and bright eyes, and her breathing quickened once more.
The red at her ears looked as if someone had taken a brush dipped in cinnabar and painted it on, stroke by stroke.
“N-nothing!”
She stuffed the storybook back into her Storage Pouch in a flash, stood up, and brushed the dust off her skirt. Only then did she notice that her pale hands and fingers were now slick with sweat.
Seeing her like this, Ji Wangshu stepped back to an arm’s length away, scratched his head, and did not press further.
A Late Winter Wind blew in from the right side of the Market Town, carrying the greasy scent of street food and the chill of dusk, sweeping over the two in front of the Treasure Pavilion.
Mu Zhiming’s Plum Blossom Hairpin swayed in the cold wind, and a few strands of her hair were blown loose, drifting across her forehead and covering half her pretty face. She reached up to brush them aside, her brows lowered.
“…Let’s go.”
A moment later, she had composed herself, stepping onto the Flying Sword, her cheeks just barely restored to their usual frosty calm as she spoke in a deliberately steady voice.
Ji Wangshu said nothing, following her onto the Flying Sword. He pinched his chin with his fingers as if deep in thought, the two of them separated by half an arm’s length.
The sword shot up through the clouds, the wind whistling past their ears as a sea of clouds burned orange-red by the sunset stretched beneath their feet.
Ahead, Mu Zhiming kept her back straight as a butterfly, piloting the sword with proper posture, yet her fingertips unconsciously brushed against the opening of her Storage Pouch.
The Braille Storybook was inside.
She thought back to the pages she had read earlier, the content of love and passion on those pages, images she had never seen or even imagined before.
At that thought, she took a deep breath, raised her right hand, and naturally tidied her hair while quietly loosening the Plum Blossom Hairpin that held her locks by one notch.
In that instant, a gust of cold wind from the Snow Mountain swept by, lifting her Three Thousand Green Threads, sending them flying through the air.
“Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.”
Ji Wangshu was startled out of his thoughts by the sound, lifting his head to look at Mu Zhiming ahead.
The hair that had been neatly pinned up just moments ago now hung naturally, cascading down onto the beauty’s fair shoulders, draping over her slender back and falling to her waist. A few strands even brushed against the back of his hand.
Seeing this scene, he sighed inwardly.
This girl, as expected, her Plum Blossom Hairpin had never been fastened tightly this morning…
When they get back, he should help her tie it up again…
Ahead, Mu Zhiming kept her back to him, her long hair covering most of her face—but it could not hide the faint, triumphant smile curving at the corners of her lips.
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