“Crack.”
Ji Wangshu closed the door, scratched his head, and pondered:
Earlier in the wooden house, Mu Zhiming’s cheeks had been tinged with a faint blush, her brows lowered, deliberately keeping him from seeing her expression clearly. Her fair calves kept shifting positions, sending flashes of snow-white skin.
Could she have been stimulated by something?
Otherwise, why would she say something like that in the end… It really didn’t sound like something Wood would normally say.
He didn’t know how to respond either. After all, he was a real Flower Goblin and a fake Childhood Friend. He sighed, looked up at the courtyard, and noticed that a light rain had fallen at some point, melting the snow on the ground and leaving patches of puddles.
Moonlight filtered through the hazy mist, casting down onto the ground and reflecting the moon’s image.
He walked softly, stepping from one moon toward another.
“Rustle, rustle.”
Inside the small wooden house, Mu Zhiming’s sheer robe brushed against her calves, producing a faint rustling sound. Where her fair skin had been exposed, it was now flushed an even deeper shade of cherry red, spreading from her calves all the way up along their roots.
Beneath the Black Veil, her eyes were tightly shut, her delicate brows occasionally relaxing, occasionally furrowing, as if conveying their owner’s feelings.
Even Ji Wangshu beside her could see the strange state her body was in, so how could she not know herself?
For some reason, ever since that time by the Flower Garden when she had closed her eyes and Ji Wangshu had placed the Eye Veil on her, her body had grown fond of this sensation.
This feeling of darkness before her eyes, relying only on her other senses to perceive the surroundings, where even the lightest touch was magnified dozens of times over.
Last time, it was Ji Wangshu using his slightly rough hands to caress her fair neck and touch her cheeks.
This time, it was sensing her exposed fair calves being closely watched by his bright, piercing gaze.
That vaguely invasive look swept across her lower limbs, her body felt the warm breath he gently exhaled, the faint, strange floral scent lingered at the tip of her nose, and his masculine voice reached her ears…
These things, in the past, would have been commonplace. But after she closed her eyes, they all transformed into an alien sensation of numbness spreading through her entire body.
She recalled what her master had left unsaid that afternoon: “Have you fallen for him?”
Her heart skipped a beat, her breathing stalled for a moment, and her calves unconsciously rubbed against each other.
She didn’t need to answer herself—her body had already given her the answer.
Thinking of this, Mu Zhiming opened her eyes, her grayish-white pupils fixed on the Plum Blossom Hairpin resting on the table.
The next day, Ji Wangshu woke up under the morning sunlight, walked out of the Wooden House, and looked at the Plum Blossom Tree in the courtyard.
A few leaves and branches on the Plum Blossom Tree were coated with white frost. He approached softly, brushed them with his fingers, and found not the sticky feel he expected, but a faint, refreshing coolness instead.
A moment later, Mu Zhiming walked out of the cabin across the way, her arms hanging naturally at her sides beside her calves.
Although she still wore the Black Eye Veil, her expression had returned to its usual cold composure, showing no trace of last night’s blush.
“Morning. Sword Practice?” Ji Wangshu asked.
“Today… no practice.”
“The Sect Competition is in three days… I need to recuperate.” Mu Zhiming said, her rosy lips stiff.
Ji Wangshu’s expression showed surprise. In the past six months, he had never seen this girl skip Sword Practice even once. Today was a first.
He then looked at her cascading black hair and furrowed his brow.
The Plum Blossom Hairpin stuck in it swayed in the wind, and strands of hair tied up would occasionally fall loose, looking not very secure.
He then recalled that he usually woke up late. Every time he got up, Wood would have already gone to the Plaza to cultivate. This hair must have been tied up by Junior Sister Chen Miao.
Since she didn’t need to go to the Plaza to cultivate today, she must have tied it herself with her eyes closed.
Ji Wangshu hesitated for a moment, opened his mouth, and wanted to say, “Your hair isn’t tied properly. Let me help you.”
But then he thought about how his recent contact with Mu Zhiming had already grown extremely close, and his favorability had been increasing quite effectively. At the very least, this block of wood was smiling more and more.
If he now proactively offered to tie her hair, that would be even more intimate, almost like pushing things to the next stage.
If he were truly playing the Childhood Friend, it wouldn’t matter. Who could refuse the taste of a cold ice fairy who was warm on the inside?
But he was a real Flower Goblin and a fake Childhood Friend. Even for the System Task, maintaining the current state of budding affection was enough.
Otherwise, given this girl’s disposition of cultivating solely for Demon Suppression, if she ever learned he had been deceiving her for the past six months and had stirred three parts of her heart, who knows what might happen.
By then, not only would the System rewards go down the drain, but the matter of recruiting people for the Yixiu Sect in the Real World would also be over.
So he closed his mouth and ultimately didn’t mention her untidy hair.
The Plum Blossom Tree beside him seemed to sense his mood, rustling loudly in the cold morning wind as the snow weighing down its branches scattered all over the ground.
Mu Zhiming, with her grayish-white pupils, naturally couldn’t see Ji Wangshu’s hesitant, about-to-speak expression. But the sound of the cold wind blowing and the snow falling to the ground was clearly audible to her.
She said softly, “Seeing you get up, even the Plum Blossom Tree seems more lively.”
“I’ve heard… that some thousand-year-old Spirit Medicine that have become spirits also have this effect…”
Hearing this, Ji Wangshu’s back, which hadn’t broken out in cold sweat in a long time, broke out again.
His heart tightened. He was about to speak to cover it up when he saw Mu Zhiming tilt her head, her fingertip brushing over the branches and leaves of the Plum Blossom Tree, continuing:
“This is also something I read in a book… before I lost my sight.”
“But you’re not a demon after all… How fascinating.”
After saying this, she produced her Flying Sword, stepped her lotus feet onto it, and after a moment, when the familiar floral scent didn’t come from behind, she furrowed her delicate brows and turned her head to say:
“You… aren’t going to the Market Town?”
Hearing Mu Zhiming call him, Ji Wangshu snapped back to his senses. “Oh, oh, I’m going.”
He quickly caught up, stepping onto the tail of the sword, maintaining half an arm’s length of distance from Mu Zhiming.
Mu Zhiming’s brows knitted slightly, but she said nothing, rising on her sword, shooting straight into the clouds.
Half a cup of tea later, Ji Wangshu helplessly looked once more at the spinning-top-shaped mountain range before him, still covered in snow from an entire winter.
This was the third time the two had returned to this place.
He took a deep breath and asked, “Wood… do you not know the way?”
Ji Wangshu looked at the graceful figure of black hair before him, the Plum Blossom Hairpin swaying gently in the cold wind.
The owner of the Plum Blossom Hairpin was silent for a moment, then gave two light coughs:
“I don’t go to the Market Town often… I’m not very familiar with the way…”
“Use your Spiritual Energy to form a finger… point the way for me.”
Ji Wangshu sighed at this, releasing his Spiritual Energy to point out the direction.
A moment later, the two flew out of the spinning-top mountain range, only to plunge straight into a deep mountain forest.
“…” Ji Wangshu was almost speechless.
He had figured it out—this block of wood didn’t just go rarely; she was a complete airhead with directions!
She probably got lost everywhere outside the Sect Grounds.
But she was blind after all. Having a blind person lead the way was his own fault for following the rules of this Female-Dominant World.
He hadn’t thought it through.
Ji Wangshu then sighed and said, “How about I do the Sword Flight instead? You rest.”
The Plum Blossom Hairpin before him suddenly bobbed up and down violently, as if its owner were puffing out her cheeks in anger.
Mu Zhiming suddenly turned her head back, her Black Eye Veil meeting Ji Wangshu’s helpless gaze. She grabbed both of his hands hanging at his sides and pulled him close.
A warm masculine breath immediately came from behind her, pressing tightly against her fair, delicate back through her robe. Their ten fingers interlocked, feeling the warmth radiating from his palm.
Mu Zhiming lifted her chin slightly, her voice feigning coldness as she said, “You point the way.”
Ji Wangshu was yanked suddenly, frozen in place. Before he could react, his right hand instinctively obeyed her words, pointing toward the foot of the mountain not far away.
Mu Zhiming immediately turned her head away, her cheeks flushed like rosy clouds, a strange sensation running through her calves once more. She lowered her brows, preventing the man behind her from seeing her expression.
Only the corner of her lowered, thin lips carried a faint, elusive smile.
……
Real World, at the border of the Central Continent.
A graceful figure with flowing black hair flew on a sword through the Cloud Sea, only to return to the same spot several hours later.
The figure’s brows furrowed tightly: “Strange… Why haven’t I gotten out yet.”
“Could it be… I got lost again?”
The moment this thought appeared, that cold, composed face shook its head.
Nonsense. She was a great cultivator at the Nascent Soul Stage now!
She was the famous Snow Lotus Sword Immortal of the Cultivation World, one of the top five female cultivators on the Heavenly Ranking!
No longer the mere Foundation Establishment Sword Cultivator from a corner of Ningzhou!
Lost? How could that be?
Her figure paused mid-air. She extended a fair, jade-like hand, and the Flying Sword beneath her feet let out two “swish, swish” sounds before flying into her palm.
Holding the sword horizontally before her, she narrowed her eyes slightly and said softly:
“This road… definitely has a problem.”
Her tone was calm, a confident smile hanging at the corner of her lips:
“Surely the mountain range’s layout conceals a Formation, deliberately disrupting a cultivator’s Spiritual Sense and causing me to circle in place.”
With that, her slender, jade-like fingers lightly brushed the sword’s edge, producing a “clang, clang” of sword chimes. Her vast Spiritual Energy condensed at the sword’s tip as she slashed out a majestic Sword Intent, cleaving through the Cloud Sea, plunging into the earth, and carving a deep Sword Scar into the ground.
She nodded with satisfaction, a hint of pride flashing across her brows.
“Now I have a direction. I can’t make another mistake.”
The Flying Sword in her hand flew once more beneath her lotus feet. She stepped on it, gave her sleeves a light pat, and flew off along the Sword Scar.
A cup of tea later, she spotted the spinning-top-shaped snowy mountain range emerging on the horizon. Her brows arched slightly as she landed her sword.
See, that’s right! Look, she had made it to Ningzhou.
As soon as she arrived in Ningzhou, she recalled memories from five hundred years ago.
She let out a soft sigh, not in a hurry to fly. She descended from the air, strolled along the main road, and looked at both sides.
Plum Blossom Trees lined the road, petals scattering down in the breeze, and her heart grew increasingly melancholy.
Whenever plum blossoms blanketed the slopes, she would remember the things she regretted most in life.
She sighed, stopped gazing at the plum blossoms, and walked along the road, then frowned slightly.
It was clearly the afternoon, so why were there barely any female cultivators on the road? Over in the Central Continent, people had been coming and going everywhere.
Thinking this, she stopped a plump woman in simple robes ahead of her: “Esteemed fellow cultivator, I have a question to ask.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the dozen or so Storage Pouches hanging at the woman’s waist. Someone carrying those at midday was undoubtedly a Traveling Merchant of the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion.
“Why are there no female cultivators on the roads of Ningzhou? Have demons and monsters come out to cause trouble?”
The Traveling Merchant, stopped by her, paused mid-step, looked her up and down, then his eyes lit up. He respectfully performed a salute and replied:
“So it’s the Snow Lotus Sword Immortal of the Central Continent, Immortal Mu Zhiming.”
Mu Zhiming, long accustomed to cold detachment, waved her hand to exempt the Traveling Merchant from such formalities.
“Immortal Mu may not know this, but recently the Qingyun Sect in Ningzhou, despite being a righteous sect, has been capturing people everywhere. The largest Star River Sword Sect won’t deal with it either, so loose female cultivators have no choice but to stop traveling.”
Mu Zhiming frowned upon hearing this. How was what the Qingyun Sect was doing any different from the Demon Cult?
Her rosy lips parted slightly as she asked, “Then where is the Qingyun Sect located? Point it out to me.”
The Traveling Merchant pointed toward a group of mountains beyond the horizon. “Immortal Mu, there’s a city there called Dongshi City. The Qingyun Sect is nearby.”
Mu Zhiming nodded slightly, then rose on her sword, releasing her Nascent Soul Stage Spiritual Energy, forming a massive vortex as she shot through the sky toward Dongshi City.
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