Actually…that Immortal Lord Xunxue could definitely protect Senior Brother too.
Gantang muttered this to herself, but she dared not say it aloud and risk inviting bad luck.
She could only force herself to endure the excruciating, burning pain and swelling in her palm, choking up with tears as she sobbed, “Master, this Chenzi really knows she was wrong.
I won’t dare do it again next time.
“Next time?”
Xuanya’s brow arched, and the handle of her icy dust whisk spun in her hand. “Pa! Pa! Pa!” Three crisp, decisive strikes landed once more.
Gantang’s lips quivered, tears frantically swirling in her eyes as she cried out in protest, “Master, you’re so biased! Why did you only hit Senior Brother once, but hit me so many times?”
Hearing this, Xuanya let out a laugh of anger, her voice icy as she replied, “Still daring to talk back? Looks like I didn’t hit you enough just now.”
As soon as the words fell.
“Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa!” Five sharp smacks rang out, landing precisely on Gantang’s already red, burning palm.
“Wuu—”
Gantang let out a miserable wail, not daring to utter another word. She felt as if her hand no longer belonged to her.
Xuanya released her grip and turned her gaze to Lu Qiancha, who stood trembling like a startled bird nearby.
That tiny body shrank in on itself, big dark-blue eyes brimming with unshed tears, desperately trying to shield the swollen, red right paw with the uninjured one. “Wu~ M-Master…”
Lu Qiancha’s voice trembled, thick with sobs, timid and barely audible: “This… Chenzi… c-can… I… apply some medicine… first…?”
That voice was so frail it seemed it would shatter in the next moment.
“Mm, go on then, quickly apply it.”
Xuanya’s voice softened ever so slightly, looking at this pitiful little creature before her, a strange pang of guilt rising in her heart.
Was this reaction really so delicate?
She pursed her lips and added,
“If it’s inconvenient… your master can help you.”
“Wu… th-thank you, Master.”
Lu Qiancha, trembling like a frightened fawn, shakily reached into her storage pouch with her paw and pulled out that bottle of crimson Healing Potion, fumbling awkwardly to unscrew the stopper.
Xuanya’s eyes flickered as she suddenly reached out and, with an effortlessly natural motion, took the bottle.
With a soft “pop,” the stopper came free.
She looked at the little wolf cub, asking simply, “Internal or external application?”
“Ying~ E-External…”
Lu Qiancha’s voice was thin and hiccupping.
Xuanya nodded, tilting her fingertip, letting the blood-red liquid drizzle precisely onto Lu Qiancha’s injured paw pad.
“Hiss—” Lu Qiancha sucked in a breath instinctively, a chilling, spring-cold sensation instantly spreading over her palm.
The raging, burning pain was swiftly swept away as if by a gentle icy veil, and the swelling faded just as fast.
In the span of a few breaths, the little paw was as good as new—soft, pink, and clean, as if it had never been hurt at all.
Lu Qiancha quietly tucked her paw away, straightened her still-trembling little frame, and stood beside them with her head lowered, meek as a quail.
“Hiss…” Gantang stared wide-eyed at her senior brother’s perfectly healed paw, then at her own swollen, burning right hand…
Her eyes nearly turned green with envy. Clutching her hand, she sidled over, “Master…this Chenzi also wants some medicine, it hurts so much…”
Xuanya didn’t even lift her eyelids, her tone utterly flat: “Endure it.”
She glanced at Gantang’s red, swollen palm and added, tone unperturbed, “You won’t die.”
“Ah??”
Gantang was stunned, her sorrow and outrage nearly spilling out. But she bit her lip hard, not daring to say another word. If this continued, her hand might truly be crippled.
“Time to eat.”
With a sweep of her broad sleeve, Xuanya left only those two words behind.
“Yes, Master.”
“Hiss… O-Okay, Master.”
The two returned to the stone table.
Now that her disguise was revealed, Lu Qiancha no longer bothered to keep up the act.
She hugged her little bowl with one paw and steadily gripped the smooth wooden spoon with the other.
With great enthusiasm, she launched a fierce attack on the meal before her.
Gantang, meanwhile, sat stiffly in her chair. She couldn’t even think about holding chopsticks with her right hand—the slightest movement made her bare her teeth in pain.
She could only sit there blankly, the aroma of food wafting up as tears threatened to fall into her bowl.
Hungry, and aggrieved!
As Lu Qiancha ate, her peripheral vision caught the pitiful sight of her pink-haired junior, radiating an aura of starvation and misery.
Her heart softened.
Lu Qiancha, without a word, quietly pushed her own little bowl a bit closer.
A paw stealthily slipped a cool bottle of potion across under the table.
Gantang shuddered all over. Feeling the chill of the bottle, her gaze towards her senior brother was instantly brimming with grateful tears.
She snatched it up, and while Xuanya’s head was lowered to drink, she quickly poured a little into her palm and rubbed it in.
That familiar, icy sensation instantly spread, the fierce swelling and pain vanishing in a flash.
Alive again! Gantang patted her chest in relief.
“Hmm?”
Xuanya noticed their little movements and abruptly looked up.
The snowy-white tassels of her whisk sliced a cold arc through the air, and the half-full potion in Gantang’s hand, with a sharp “whoosh!”, was pulled as if by invisible threads straight into Xuanya’s pale palm.
The air froze instantly.
Xuanya toyed with the crimson bottle between her fingers, her gaze icy as daggers as she swept her eyes over Lu Qiancha, who now seemed ready to bury her head in her bowl, and then slowly turned to Gantang, whose stiff face screamed, “Crap! We’ve been caught!”
“Qiancha,” Xuanya’s calm voice made the air prickle, “Come with your master.”
“Master!” Gantang’s heart leapt, and she sprang up with a “whoosh.”
Without hesitation, she stepped forward, blocking herself in front of Lu Qiancha, and declared loudly and heroically, “It was—it was me who threatened Senior Brother to sneak the medicine to me. If you must punish someone, punish me!”
Xuanya didn’t even bother to lift her brows, her gaze still fixed on Lu Qiancha, who was desperately trying to shrink into a ball. “Very well.”
Xuanya’s tone was cold, “Then you are to be confined at the Mid-Mountain Grass Hut.” She paused, her voice hardening, “For three months.”
Without another glance at Gantang’s face—now collapsed with despair and tears—her sleeve whisked out, and she took hold of Lu Qiancha’s once-more-soft paw, brooking no refusal.
Amid the north wind, she led the way toward the quiet North Wing Room.
The door shut softly behind them.
Xuanya sat upright at the table by the window.
Lu Qiancha, like a convict before a judge, hung her little head low. Consciously, with a touch of doomed determination, she slowly extended both tiny paws.
Palms up.
Behind her, the fluffy dark-blue tail swept anxiously back and forth across the floor, stirring fine dust.
“Are you afraid?”
Xuanya’s gaze fell on the slightly trembling little paws, her voice betraying neither joy nor anger.
The little wolf cub replied as softly as a mosquito, nodding her tiny head.
To say she wasn’t afraid would be a lie—her master’s hand was truly ruthless. When that whisk handle came down, the pain left her utterly disoriented.
“Sit.”
Xuanya withdrew her scrutinizing gaze and tapped the wooden chair beside her with the whisk, her tone carrying a trace of gentleness: “…Your master did not summon you here for punishment.”
Lu Qiancha, as if receiving a royal pardon, hurriedly sat down, folding her hands neatly on her knees, back ramrod straight. Her blue eyes stared unblinkingly at the tip of her nose.