Li Yuer arrived before the Pavilion of Immortal World.
The disciples on duty did not recognize this unfamiliar young lady, but upon noticing her extraordinary bearing, and recalling the recent rumors circulating atop the mountain—how the Sect Master seemed to have gained a few new, unusually close acquaintances—they became much more cautious, not daring to be negligent, and were about to go inside to report.
“Let her in.”
Before the disciples could even speak, Pei Qingxuan’s cool and clear voice came from within the pavilion, as if she had already known the visitor waiting outside.
The two disciples hurriedly bowed in acknowledgment and stepped aside to make way.
Li Yuer gave a slight nod, showing little restraint.
By now, they were considered familiar with each other’s roots.
Regarding this “Madam of the Main House,” she had already acknowledged her in her heart.
To say she harbored no selfish feelings or resentment at all would, of course, be a lie.
Li Yuer saw herself clearly; that trace of unwillingness and sourness—she admitted its existence.
But compared to more important people and matters, such emotions were insignificant and harmless.
She even felt that, given Sir’s temperament, perhaps he would find this touch of liveliness and small temper rather endearing?
As these thoughts passed through her mind, she had already stepped into the Pavilion of Immortal World.
Inside the quiet chamber, Pei Qingxuan was sitting cross-legged, an extremely faint aura of spiritual energy flowing around her.
With Xu Ping’an’s care, her injuries had healed seventy to eighty percent, and her cultivation had even surpassed its former level.
The difference was that her True Spirit was now more condensed and pure than before; however, this spiritual energy, which had been absorbed and transformed through the Lotus Dao Pattern, was never as smooth and responsive to control as what she gained through her own hard cultivation.
At present, the focus of her cultivation was to once more subdue and delicately master this mighty power.
In the world of cultivation, battles were far fiercer and more perilous than mortals could imagine, with victory and defeat often decided in an instant.
A deep reservoir of spiritual energy was the foundation, but what truly determined life and death was the speed at which spiritual energy could be mobilized, and the precision with which techniques could be executed.
A hair’s breadth of speed made the difference between life and death.
In the path of Sword Dao, she was confident she was second to none among sword cultivators of her generation, whether orthodox or demonic; in the art of killing, a sword in her hand was enough, no need for distractions.
Only her control over spiritual energy still needed time to be honed to perfect harmony.
Allowing Xu Ping’an and the three women to temporarily reside at Autumn Water Hall was also a means for her to observe and maintain a certain distance.
She had thought these ladies would take the opportunity to get closer to him… Unexpectedly, Li Yuer had taken the initiative to seek her out instead?
A trace of doubt flickered in Pei Qingxuan’s eyes as she looked up at Li Yuer, who was approaching gracefully.
“Big Sister,” Li Yuer called, her tone natural.
“Mm,” Pei Qingxuan replied. “What brings you here? Is there… something from Sir’s side?”
“Big Sister, did you see Sir today? What did you talk about? After Sir returned just now, his expression… for once looked a bit gloomy. I was truly uneasy in my heart, so I came to ask, bold as it may be.”
“You mean… Sir is troubled because of me?”
Pei Qingxuan’s eyes grew sharper.
“It looked… that way to me.”
Pei Qingxuan fell silent.
How could she not recall what she had said to Xu Ping’an? It was nothing other than the matter of Dragon Qi.
She raised her eyes and carefully regarded Li Yuer. The County Princess’s gaze was clear, her worry sincere.
After a moment of contemplation, Pei Qingxuan decided to speak plainly.
Li Yuer was of the royal family, a daughter of the Princes.
This matter was already tied to her bloodline—there was no need for concealment.
“It’s about Dragon Qi.”
Pei Qingxuan’s crimson lips parted softly, and she recounted how Xu Ping’an, upon investigating the Dragon Qi, had found something amiss, along with the dangers and difficulties involved.
Li Yuer listened intently.
When the words “Dragon Qi” reached her ears, her heart suddenly tightened!
Born with a Mind of Seven Apertures and as a noble of the royal clan, how could she not know that Dragon Qi was the foundation of the nation’s fortune?
Her thoughts drifted far away in an instant, as if she saw her father, the Prince, worried for the country, and the diligent figure of His Majesty working tirelessly.
“Big Sister,” her voice turned slightly hoarse.
“Does… His Majesty know of this?”
Pei Qingxuan shook her head.
“He does not. And even if he did, he would never speak of it.”
She had not discussed this matter in depth with the current Emperor.
The palace, though seemingly impenetrable, was in truth filled with eyes and ears—there was never any real secret.
Moreover, the current Emperor truly was a diligent and aspiring monarch.
In recent years, Great Qi had made some small progress, but it was like a cup of water to a burning cart of firewood—utterly inadequate.
When the Dragon Qi finally declined to the point where it could no longer suppress the backlash of the world’s monsters and demons, Great Qi would truly be beyond salvation.
“Is it true that Sir was so deeply troubled by this?”
When Pei Qingxuan asked this question, there was a faint tremor in her voice she herself did not notice.
Whether before or after her memory loss, she had almost never seen a “troubled look” on Xu Ping’an’s face.
He always seemed to have a solution, always able to overcome all obstacles.
Perhaps it was precisely this almost blind faith, and his record of never failing, that made her unconsciously place all her hopes on him.
She had never really thought about what kind of despairing world crisis, what kind of burden heavy enough to crush anyone, lay behind those four words: “Dragon Qi’s decline.”
If not for Li Yuer pointing it out, she would hardly have realized that she had, without knowing it, handed Xu Ping’an such an almost insoluble problem.
At this thought, Pei Qingxuan suddenly stood up, her gaze instantly becoming as sharp as a sword.
She was never one to wallow in self-pity or wait passively for fate.
Now that Sir was troubled because of her, how could she sit here in peace?
“To Autumn Water Hall.”
Her words were concise and resolute.
Seeing this, Li Yuer felt slightly relieved.
At the same time, a deeper worry welled up within her—if Dragon Qi changed, it meant Great Qi’s fate was hanging by a thread.
Could this calamity be overcome?
Though she was exceedingly intelligent, at this moment, even she felt helpless and at a loss.
Now, it seemed, the only ones she could rely on were the cold and peerless Sect Master in front of her, and that unfathomable, mysterious Sir.
Pei Qingxuan spoke no further.
With a gesture of a sword formula, a clear light enveloped Li Yuer, and she soared by sword-flight, instantly landing within the courtyard of Autumn Water Hall.
The moment she stepped through the gate, her gaze was drawn like a magnet to the figure beneath the banyan tree.
Xu Ping’an was still lying on the reclining chair, his posture relaxed, eyes half-closed, staring vacantly at some distant spot—either lost in thought, or simply too lazy to awaken.
The evening breeze rustled his clothes, everything appearing as peaceful and tranquil as on any past day.
But Pei Qingxuan saw at a glance the faintly furrowed brow, almost unnoticeable.
“Sir!”
With a single call, Xu Ping’an, who had been lost in thought, was pulled back to reality.
He instinctively turned at the sound. Before his eyes could fully focus, a familiar, cool fragrance swept over him.
The next moment, his arms were full of warm, soft fragrance.
Almost reflexively, Xu Ping’an tightened his embrace, holding the delicate figure that had thrown itself into his arms.
The lingering shadow between his brows, that trace of gloom that would not disperse, seemed to be instantly scattered by this sudden warmth.
The corners of his lips lifted in his usual, slightly lazy smile as he looked down at the person in his arms.
“What is it? We were apart for only a short while, and already you couldn’t bear to be without your husband?”
His voice was light and teasing, just as always.
But this smile, this tone, when they landed in Pei Qingxuan’s eyes and ears, made her heart feel as if gripped by an invisible hand, sore to the point of pain.
She gazed at his face, so close to hers, and saw that the smile never truly reached the depths of his eyes—there was even a hint of forced lightness.
She opened her mouth, but her throat seemed choked, and the words she wanted to say caught there, unable to emerge.
In the end, she only buried her face deeper in his solid chest, arms encircling his waist, tightening her hold, as if by this she could confirm his presence, drawing in the warmth and strength that reassured her.
In her ears was the steady, powerful beat of his heart, thump, thump, thump—each beat knocking at her own, strangely soothing some of her panic, yet also making the heartache from his forced smile even clearer.
She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his chest.
After a long moment, she finally spoke, her voice muffled, barely above a whisper, carrying a trace of entreaty almost impossible to discern.
“Sir… the matter of Dragon Qi, maybe… you shouldn’t dwell on it anymore.”