Nan Shan returned to the backyard with a gloomy expression.
Shou Xin had been waiting in the courtyard.
When he saw her come back, he rushed over.
“You’re back so soon? What did you go to see the Immortal Lord for?”
Nan Shan ignored him and walked straight into the house.
Shou Xin trotted behind her.
“Why are you ignoring me again? I’ve noticed your temper’s getting worse lately. Why are you always taking it out on me…”
Bang!
The door slammed shut in his face.
Shou Xin stomped his feet a few times in frustration but still obediently went to the kitchen.
Nan Shan started sleeping again.
Shou Xin’s internal alarm bells went off—worried she’d fall into another endless sleep like before—so he specially cooked a full table of dishes and fanned the aroma toward the room through the crack in the door.
Nan Shan didn’t want to pay attention to him, but the tempting aroma of the hot dishes wafted into her nose again and again, making it hard to stay indifferent.
After a while, she sat in the courtyard with a blank face, picking at the food while pretending to be aloof.
“I’m only eating to give you face, not because I was tempted.”
“I know. You’re being very generous,” Shou Xin gave her a sideways glance.
Seeing that she had started eating, he said nothing more, only kept glancing toward the front yard.
Nan Shan ate a shrimp, squinting in satisfaction.
When she looked up, she noticed his distracted gaze.
“What are you looking at?”
“Uh… huh? Nothing,” Shou Xin feigned innocence.
Nan Shan felt something was off.
Just as she was about to question further, his eyes suddenly lit up.
“Immortal Lord?!”
Nan Shan paused and followed his line of sight—sure enough, she saw Ji Yue’s figure.
He was still wearing that pale blue robe, with a matching hair ribbon.
In his hand, he held a coconut, revealing a section of his slender wrist.
He walked with a leisurely air, like a scholar, with not a trace of a fallen deity’s demeanor.
“Immortal Lord, you’re here,” Shou Xin greeted him with exaggerated enthusiasm.
Ji Yue smiled warmly, but his gaze fell on Nan Shan’s face.
Nan Shan kept eating her chicken wing, pretending not to see him.
“I made a lot of food today. Would you like to try some?”
Shou Xin continued his invitation.
Ji Yue nodded and sat down beside Nan Shan, placing the coconut next to her.
She glanced at it and noticed it had already been opened—she only needed to hold it and drink.
“Immortal Lord, I’ll go get you some rice,” Shou Xin said and ran to the kitchen.
Nan Shan had just finished her chicken wing and was about to grab another when Ji Yue picked one out and offered it to her.
“Eat,” he said with a gentle smile, no different from any other day.
Nan Shan gave him a sidelong glance.
“I don’t want this.”
Ji Yue paused, then put the wing back and asked, “What do you want to eat?”
Nan Shan, deliberately in front of him, picked up another chicken wing herself.
A hint of helpless amusement appeared in Ji Yue’s eyes.
“So you just don’t want to eat the one I gave you?”
Nan Shan kept her head down and ignored him.
Ji Yue said nothing more, quietly sitting beside her.
The one who went to get the rice didn’t return for a long time—clearly trying to create space for them.
After Nan Shan finished another wing, a handkerchief was handed to her.
It was soft, clean, neatly folded, and carried a fresh scent of soapberry—clearly freshly washed.
Nan Shan stared at it for a while, then took it and wiped her hands, rubbing the grease all over it.
Ji Yue didn’t mind at all.
Once she was done, he calmly took the dirty handkerchief and put it away.
Nan Shan saw him putting away the greasy handkerchief without flinching.
Her eyelid twitched involuntarily.
Finally, she spoke softly, “Shou Xin can’t leave the courtyard.”
Ji Yue nodded.
“He can’t leave the courtyard, can’t come to find you, yet every time he tries to set up a meeting between us, you show up. So you two must have some kind of special connection?”
Ji Yue patiently explained, “From the moment I separated him from my body, he became an independent person. I come back not because of any connection between us, but because my bell can sense his.”
Nan Shan curled her lips.
“Oh.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Ji Yue pointed to the suspended sun above.
After all that had happened, it now had visible dark spots.
“That thing is formed from resentment—it’s not my eye.”
Nan Shan: “So you’re not spying on me?”
Ji Yue shook his head, then hesitated.
“If I occasionally check in, does that count?”
Nan Shan responded with a cold laugh.
The one fetching rice finally returned before all the dishes turned cold.
He handed Ji Yue a full bowl and looked between the two of them before bursting into laughter.
“What are you laughing at?”
Nan Shan couldn’t help asking.
Shou Xin scratched his head.
“I’m happy! It’s been so long since we all ate together.”
Nan Shan paused.
“It hasn’t been that long, has it?”
“How not?!”
Shou Xin widened his eyes and started arguing seriously.
“Ever since you started cultivating, you’ve eaten way less. When I was cooking just now, I noticed the pickled vegetables we made last time were all moldy. Before, you’d start eating them before they even finished fermenting, they’d never get the chance to go bad. I think you just—hey, what are you looking at?”
Nan Shan rested her chin on her hand, staring at him.
When he asked, she switched to resting on the other hand.
“Looking at you.”
“What for?”
Shou Xin asked, puzzled.
Nan Shan: “Nothing. Just thinking how different you are from when you were little. It’s kind of funny.”
Shou Xin: “???”
Ji Yue: “…”
After a moment, Shou Xin concluded, “You’re so weird.”
Nan Shan let out a light humph and gave him a slice of lotus root fritter.
Seeing her in the mood to serve him food, Shou Xin’s eyes curved into a big smile.
Meanwhile, Ji Yue beside them kept poking at his rice for a long time, but didn’t dare hold out his bowl—he was afraid Nan Shan would swat it away instead of serving him.
By the end of the meal, the atmosphere had unconsciously softened.
Shou Xin seized the moment and made up an excuse to leave, leaving the courtyard to them once again.
Nan Shan lowered her gaze, watching Ji Yue roll up his sleeves to clean up the dishes.
She only spoke when he picked up the tray to head to the kitchen: “I won’t kill you.”
Ji Yue stopped in his tracks and looked back calmly.
“I’ll find another way to break the barrier, but I won’t kill you.”
Nan Shan spoke each word clearly, revealing a decision she had kept in her heart for a long time.
Ji Yue was silent for a moment before asking, “Why?”
Nan Shan’s lips moved slightly, then she smiled.
“Because Shou Xin cares about you. I can’t hurt him.”
Ji Yue: “If you kill me, he’ll be free.”
“You said it yourself—he’s an independent person now. So you don’t have the right to make decisions for him. Why don’t we tell him the truth, and let him decide your fate himself?”
Nan Shan leaned leisurely on the table, as if sure he wouldn’t dare.
Ji Yue indeed said nothing more.
Watching his lowered eyelashes, Nan Shan suddenly felt like she was bullying him.
The feeling was dull and joyless.
She stood up, stretched lazily, and turned to head to her room.
“There’s no other way,” Ji Yue suddenly said.
Nan Shan paused.
“The resentment on this island and I have long become indistinguishable.
If you want to break the barrier, you’ll have to kill me,” Ji Yue said slowly, calmly revealing the truth.
Nan Shan stopped and thought for a while, then turned around provocatively to look at him.
“What if I don’t kill you? What can you do?”
Ji Yue was amused by her childlike tone.
After laughing, a familiar compassion appeared in his eyes.
“You will.”
“Don’t forget, your father and mother are still waiting for you to come home.”
At the mention of her parents, Nan Shan fell silent for a long time.
Just when Shou Xin inside the house was about to lose patience and come out, she suddenly asked, “The way you speak so lightly—it’s really irritating.”
Ji Yue didn’t get angry. Instead, he looked at her with tolerance.
“Are you really like this, or are you pretending?”
A trace of mockery flashed in Nan Shan’s eyes.
“I wonder what must have happened to make the celestial lord Ji Yue seem less fake.”
Ji Yue’s eyes flickered slightly, but before he could speak, she had already turned and left.
The façade of composure she had forced herself to maintain shattered the moment the door closed behind her.
Nan Shan silently screamed a few times, then sat down at the table, fuming.
She thought she could win against Ji Yue at least once, but even after revealing all his cards, he could still strike precisely at her weak spot.
The more Nan Shan thought about it, the angrier she got, so she decided to play ostrich and ignore it all.
She stayed in her room for a long time.
Only after Shou Xin came to call her three times did she frown and finally go out.
“What do you want to eat today?”
Shou Xin, who had been waiting at the door, asked immediately.
Nan Shan looked at him strangely.
“Haven’t you been a bit too nice to me lately?”
“Have I?”
Shou Xin blinked.
“Ah, maybe it’s because you’re in a bad mood. I just thought I’d go easy on you.”
“I’ve had plenty of bad moods before. Don’t recall you going easy on me then,” Nan Shan clicked her tongue, reached out, and patted his head.
“I’m not eating today. I’m going out.”
“Going to see the celestial lord again?”
Shou Xin asked.
Nan Shan curled her lips.
“Not this time.”
She went to the sea.
Sky and sea blended together, waves surging.
Nan Shan gathered spiritual energy in her palm and slowly floated into the air.
In an instant, black and red resentment surged in her palm and spread outward.
Soon, the entire barrier became fully visible.