“How are you feeling now?”
Bai Yue’s voice was filled with concern.
“Master, the medicine is taking effect, my injuries are slowly healing, and also…”
“And also what?”
Bai Yue’s heart tightened, and she hurriedly asked.
Mu Chenxi stared at Bai Yue with ice-blue eyes.
“It’s just… with Master taking care of me like this, my Sword Cultivation is slowly growing again.”
Bai Yue was momentarily stunned by her words, then felt both annoyed and distressed.
She reached out and gently tapped her disciple’s forehead.
“Still thinking about Sword Cultivation? You were too reckless this time! Don’t do this again…”
“Mm.”
Mu Chenxi answered softly.
Seeing her expression, Bai Yue knew she hadn’t truly listened.
This disciple—once it involved cultivation, even nine oxen couldn’t pull her back.
So she didn’t dwell on it further.
Carefully, she cradled Mu Chenxi in her arms and walked toward the nearby wooden hut.
Perhaps it was a place where she could rest well.
Holding Mu Chenxi, Bai Yue used spiritual energy from a distance to create a breeze, tentatively pushing open the wooden door.
The door creaked open.
No restrictions were triggered, nor was there any danger.
Inside, the room was spotless.
A small bed covered with clean bedding rested against the wall, and beside it was a rocking chair.
The entire setup exuded a warm and peaceful atmosphere.
She truly hadn’t expected that even the things inside had not been eroded by time—everything was perfectly intact.
Bai Yue gently placed Mu Chenxi on the bed and spoke softly.
“Rest and recover. I’ll handle everything.”
Settling Mu Chenxi on the bed, she looked at her disciple’s pale but delicate face.
“Does the wound hurt much?”
Bai Yue asked with concern.
“Master, it doesn’t hurt.”
Mu Chenxi felt the warmth flow through her heart under Bai Yue’s caring gaze.
“You, really, why do you push yourself so hard?”
Bai Yue shook her head helplessly. She moved the rocking chair over and sat by Mu Chenxi’s bedside.
The wooden hut was very quiet, with only the faint sound of wind from the sea of flowers outside the window.
“Master.”
Mu Chenxi suddenly spoke in a low voice.
“What is it?”
Bai Yue immediately leaned over, nervous.
“It’s nothing.”
Mu Chenxi shook her head, her ice-blue eyes fixed on Bai Yue.
“Master, can you tell me about your life in that world?”
Bai Yue was slightly taken aback.
She sat back in the rocking chair, her tone tinged with reminiscence.
“In the past… actually, there’s not much to say. I had no relatives or friends in that world, and I was unlucky enough to get a terminal illness, so I didn’t have long to live.”
“Actually, being struck by lightning and sent here was a good thing for me.”
“Then… does Master want to go back?”
Mu Chenxi couldn’t help but ask, her gaze nervous as she looked at Bai Yue.
“No.”
Bai Yue answered without hesitation.
“I was alone and helpless over there. Though it’s dangerous here, there is Master Bai Ling’e, there’s Yan Hua, and of course…”
She paused, her gaze falling on Mu Chenxi, her tone gentle.
“There’s also you, Chenxi.”
Mu Chenxi immediately asked,
“Does Master like Grandmaster?”
“I do.”
Bai Yue replied without thinking.
But as soon as she spoke, she realized the deeper meaning in her disciple’s words, and quickly added,
“Ah, not the kind of ‘like’ you’re thinking! It’s the affection one has for elders or family.”
“And Yan Hua? Is it the same?”
“Yes.”
“And me?”
After asking this question, Mu Chenxi herself grew even more nervous, staring straight at Bai Yue as if wanting to see through her.
Under such a burning gaze, Bai Yue’s cheeks uncontrollably flushed.
But as Master, she met Mu Chenxi’s eyes and explained softly,
“Of course… it’s also the kind of love for family.”
Upon hearing this, the light in Mu Chenxi’s eyes dimmed almost imperceptibly, and a wave of disappointment rose in her heart.
She had hoped to be that one special person.
But thinking further, she felt this was already good.
She had only been with Master for half a month, and Master already regarded her as family.
There was still a long road ahead. Maybe, their relationship could deepen in the future, becoming Dao Companions—certainly not impossible.
Thinking of this, she pursued further, “Then, Master… what kind of Dao Companion do you like?”
At this, Bai Yue was both helpless and amused.
She stretched out her fair fingers and lightly tapped Mu Chenxi’s delicate nose.
“This question really stumps me. Even I don’t know myself yet.”
“Oh.”
Mu Chenxi nodded, and not getting a clear answer, she instead felt a bit more at ease.
“Why are you asking these strange questions?”
Bai Yue couldn’t help but ask.
Usually, her disciple only thought about cultivation.
Even when seeking closeness, it was for Sword Cultivation.
Now, she seemed a little out of character.
“Because I saw that senior…”
Mu Chenxi’s gaze turned to the solitary grave outside the window.
“I couldn’t help but wonder. So it turns out that between people, there can be such a deep, life-and-death bond.”
“So, I also want to have such a Dao Companion relationship with Master.”
Mu Chenxi’s ice-blue eyes continued to bore straight into Bai Yue.
Hearing these words—half confession, half naive—the blush on Bai Yue’s face deepened.
But there was a huge problem with Mu Chenxi’s words—she didn’t want to go through life and death separation.
So, she gave Mu Chenxi a helpless glare.
“Don’t let your little head imagine such inauspicious things. As master and disciple, what’s most important is that we’re safe and well.”
“Okay.”
Mu Chenxi nodded obediently, not pressing further, but tightened her grip on Bai Yue’s hand.
Night fell.
The bright moonlight poured through the window lattice, spilling onto the wooden hut’s floor.
“Master, you should lie down and rest too.”
Mu Chenxi spoke softly, shifting slightly to make space for Bai Yue.
“Don’t move.”
Bai Yue immediately pressed her down.
“I’m not tired. It’s fine to sit by your side.”
But Mu Chenxi shook her head, a barely noticeable stubbornness in her gaze.
“When Master lies beside me… it feels good. I’ve gotten used to it.”
“You…”
Bai Yue was at a loss and had no choice but to compromise.
“Alright, but you mustn’t move. I’ll carry you.”
She gently picked up Mu Chenxi’s soft body, moved her slightly inward on the bed, then removed her shoes and lay down beside her.
Almost as soon as she lay down, Mu Chenxi naturally reached over, clasping Bai Yue’s hand tightly, fingers interlaced.
Bai Yue felt a mix of shyness and exasperation.
This habit of holding hands had almost become second nature.
Suddenly, she remembered something and spoke in concern.
“By the way, you were injured so badly today. You don’t need to help me suppress the Fiery Poison tonight, do you? I’ll grit my teeth and endure for a night.”
“It’s fine, Master.”
Mu Chenxi’s voice was weak, but her tone was serious.
“There’s still some time before it flares up again. That’s enough for me to recover a bit. Using a little spiritual energy won’t affect my foundation.”
Seeing her determined gaze, Bai Yue knew further persuasion was useless.
She could only nod in agreement.