Nan Shan grinned and tightened her grip on his hand.
“Exactly. I’m a stubborn one—you keep dodging, and I’ll just like you more.”
Ji Yue gave a silent chuckle, then suddenly seemed to think of something.
“Nan Shan…”
“Hmm?”
“I…”
Ji Yue hesitated, seemingly unsure of what to say.
This was the first time Nan Shan had seen him so troubled, so she simply stopped and patiently waited.
Ji Yue took a long time to choose his words, but when his eyes met hers, he seemed at a loss for what to say.
“What’s wrong?”
Nan Shan chuckled softly.
Ji Yue cleared his throat and, after some deliberation, finally asked, “Am I… not good enough?”
“Why would you say that?”
Nan Shan asked, puzzled.
Ji Yue pressed his lips together, falling silent once again.
“What’s going on?”
Nan Shan shook his hand, noticing that his fingers were cold, no longer pretending to be the normal body temperature of a person.
Ji Yue: “You asked Shou Xin to make me some soup, saying you wanted to replenish my strength…”
As he spoke, his face began to heat up.
Nan Shan was speechless for a while, then she, too, became awkward.
The two of them exchanged a glance but immediately looked away, only to look back again.
After a few rounds of this, Nan Shan couldn’t hold back her laughter, and Ji Yue laughed too, though his smile was tinged with helplessness:
“I don’t know how to win your favor. If I’ve done something wrong, you need to teach me.”
Nan Shan raised an eyebrow and slowly took his hand, leading him back home.
When they were almost at the temple, she suddenly stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear, “You’re perfect.”
Ji Yue froze for a moment, and before he could react, Nan Shan had already run off.
Watching her hurried figure disappear, Ji Yue couldn’t help but chuckle.
But after the laugh, a touch of melancholy appeared in his eyes.
Nan Shan ran back to her room in a burst of energy.
Once the door was shut, she began to feel shy.
Her heart was racing fast, but it didn’t feel unpleasant; it made her happy.
She ran to the bed and noticed that the bedding was neatly folded, and the two matching pillows were placed side by side.
On top of them was a small coconut that had been peeled.
Nan Shan held the coconut and spaced out for a while, then tried to sense her spiritual bone.
Unconsciously, the spiritual bone had matured by more than half.
The translucent glow was filled with spiritual energy, while the fake spiritual bone was dull, covered in cracks, as if it would shatter at any moment.
With Ji Yue absent, she tried to repair it herself.
She poured spiritual energy into it recklessly, but rather than reducing the cracks, they seemed to increase, and she was scared to move any further.
The precariously unstable spiritual bone made Nan Shan suddenly feel a sense of crisis.
She couldn’t afford to slack off, so she spent her days at sea, thinking of ways to fix the fake spiritual bone without harming Ji Yue.
After the thirtieth failed attempt, Nan Shan was struck by vengeful energy.
She collapsed onto the beach and coughed up blood. Ignoring her injuries, she quickly checked the fake spiritual bone.
Another crack had appeared.
What was going on?
She had clearly reduced her use of spiritual power.
Even when she was attacked earlier, she had carefully avoided the bone, so why had another crack appeared?
Nan Shan felt something was off and, after thinking for a while, decided to go back and check the jade slips to see if she could find an answer.
She had been at sea for a while, and now, back home, as soon as she entered the courtyard, she heard intense prayer sounds.
There was only a corridor separating the temple from the backyard, so hearing the prayer sounds was common, especially in the evening when they grew louder, and Nan Shan had long gotten used to them.
But today, the prayer sounds seemed different.
Standing in the yard, she listened for a while before noticing the difference—there was a lack of devotion.
Ji Yue’s cultivation weakened as night approached, and the blessings he gave would gradually decrease.
Therefore, the prayer sounds from the followers often carried negative emotions, but there was still a sense of reverence.
Today was different.
The followers were still asking for blessings, but their words were full of dissatisfaction and resentment, lacking the vital sincerity.
Normally, they would only become like this after nightfall.
“Hey, what are you spacing out for?”
Shou Xin suddenly popped out.
Nan Shan snapped back to her senses.
“Ah… it’s nothing.”
“There’s fish in the kitchen today. Do you want some?”
Shou Xin asked eagerly.
“No, I’m not eating,” Nan Shan said, heading back to the room to grab a few jade slips.
When she turned around, she saw Shou Xin still watching her intently.
For a moment, she felt a little helpless.
“I really don’t want to eat. I have something to do.”
“You always have something to do,” Shou Xin muttered.
“The Immortal Lord is always busy, and so are you. Neither of you cares about me.”
“Immortal Lord?”
Nan Shan paused.
“Hasn’t he come to see you recently?”
Shou Xin huffed.
“No, he hasn’t been back in a long time!”
Nan Shan had planned to head back to the sea directly, but hearing that, she decided to visit the temple first.
However, Ji Yue wasn’t at the temple.
Not here again?
Nan Shan looked at the compassionate-looking deity statues and suddenly remembered that the last time she came looking for him, he wasn’t there either.
Furthermore, from the followers’ words, he had already stopped granting blessings at that time.
“How foolish,” she thought.
She had originally planned to ask him why he had stopped granting blessings, but she had been distracted by his beauty and had forgotten everything.
Then she got busy with the spiritual bone issue, and the matter had been completely pushed aside.
So… if he wasn’t at the temple, where could he be?
Nan Shan thought for a long while before suddenly recalling a place.
The blood-red sun was already mostly covered with black spots, leaving only a crescent of light.
Yet, the sea was still sparkling, and the white sands reflected it, as if the night would never come.
Ji Yue, dressed in light blue, looked like a wave.
His flowing figure resembled a startled swan, and the bells in his palms jingled like meteors, leaving marks on the sand.
His body moved like a dragon, graceful as a phoenix, the only deity in this mortal world.
Nan Shan picked two sprigs of colorful bird flowers, tucked one behind her ear, and held the other in her hand.
When Ji Yue approached, she smiled and offered them to him.
“When did you arrive?”
He asked.
“Just now,” Nan Shan replied, looking at the large, complex formation behind him.
In just a short moment, the energy threads woven by spiritual power had already begun to fade.
“What are these?”
“Prayer Formation,”
Ji Yue did not hide this time.
“It’s a formation used for astrology and divination.”
Nan Shan paused for a moment.
“You’ve been divining?”
“Yes.”
“You haven’t been going to the temple to offer blessings recently, just to conserve your spiritual energy to set up the formation and divine, right?”
Nan Shan recalled that she had seen him working on formations before, but at that time, she was still angry with him, so she didn’t ask about it.
Hearing her words, Ji Yue chuckled.
“Yes, my energy is limited, so I can only focus on important matters.”
“Important matters… are they related to me?”
Nan Shan probed.
Under the dim light, Ji Yue’s eyes and brows remained calm.
“Naturally.”
Although she knew that he had feelings for her, hearing him say this still made Nan Shan’s heart flutter, and she felt a little embarrassed.
“Well…” She racked her brain to come up with a topic.
“What are you trying to divine?”
Ji Yue stared at her for a long time before replying, “I’m divining your life path.”
Nan Shan froze for a moment.
“Unfortunately, I cannot divine it,” Ji Yue looked at the empty beach, his voice soft.
“The power of divination is bestowed by the Heavenly Dao. When I slaughtered the Eastern Yi, I was abandoned by the Heavenly Dao and can no longer glimpse the mysteries of the heavens.”
“Who says that? Didn’t you see me?”
Nan Shan retorted.
Ji Yue smiled but did not explain the difference between being shown something by the Heavenly Dao and asking the Dao for guidance.
Seeing him fall silent, Nan Shan pursed her lips and wrapped her arm around his.
“It’s fine, if you can’t divine it, then don’t. The ship will reach the shore when it gets there. We’ll wait until tomorrow…”
“We won’t wait until tomorrow,” Ji Yue suddenly interrupted.
Nan Shan froze.
“What… do you mean?”
“Your spiritual bone has started to crack. Even if nothing is done, it will continue to fracture until it completely shatters.”
Ji Yue gently stroked her head and spoke softly, “This won’t take long. It’s likely that you won’t make it until the next nightfall. You should have sensed it by now.”
Nan Shan bit her lip, not responding.
“I can’t divine your life path, but I can confirm one thing: your life path is not here in Eastern Yi, so…”
“So I have to leave quickly, to find my life path… by killing you, right?”
Nan Shan abruptly interrupted, not wanting to hear him continue.
“And the way to leave…”
Ji Yue paused, still with his usual calm demeanor.
“After nightfall, before I fall, is when I am at my weakest. With your current cultivation, it would be easy for you to…”
“What if I refuse?!”
Nan Shan interrupted again.
“I will find a way… to think of a solution that benefits both sides.”
“Perhaps there is a way that benefits both sides, but we don’t have time to look for it. If you kill me, you can leave Eastern Yi and find your life path. If you don’t kill me, your spiritual bone will continue to break until you die, and I will be left here forever.”
Ji Yue stared at the colorful bird in his hand, not looking at her face.
“You’re a smart child. You know what to choose, right?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to choose.”
Nan Shan locked eyes with him, and her stubborn side resurfaced.
Ji Yue gazed at her for a long time before letting out a light sigh. “Nan Shan…”
“I don’t want to hear it!”
Nan Shan turned and walked away.
After a few steps, she stopped and angrily said, “I already said I’d think of a solution that benefits both sides. Why do you keep giving up? Don’t you want to leave Eastern Yi with me?!”
Ji Yue helplessly replied, “Some things are already destined, and cannot be forced.”
“How do you know it can’t be forced if you haven’t tried?”
Nan Shan was still angry.
“Can’t you believe in me?”
“I believe in you, but…”
“No buts!”
Nan Shan snapped.
Seeing that she wasn’t listening to anything, Ji Yue extended his hand toward her.
Nan Shan looked at his thin, pale fingers, and her eyes reddened.
“Let’s not argue, okay?”
Ji Yue asked gently.
Nan Shan sniffed, reluctantly walking over to him.
He took her hand, their fingers interlaced.
Nan Shan’s mood improved slightly.
“Are you regretting it now?”
“Hmm?”
Ji Yue looked at her in confusion.
Nan Shan turned her face away.
“Regretting not continuing to avoid me? If you knew I’d be so stubborn after we got together, would you rather…”
“If I had continued to avoid you, would you not have been stubborn?”
Ji Yue countered.
Nan Shan paused, hesitant.
“Seems… like I’d still be stubborn.”
She liked Ji Yue and wanted to spend her life with him.
This was her obsession.
What Ji Yue wanted didn’t seem to matter much.
At most… he would avoid her, and even though she’d get angry, she still wouldn’t want to kill him.
To her, the result was the same.
Ji Yue must have realized this too, which is why he stopped resisting.
Hearing her honest words, Ji Yue’s eyes filled with a faint smile.
Just as he was about to comfort her further, the crescent moon in the sky was once again covered by a black spot, and night fell once more.