Chapter 69: Fine Tea

Su Wan’er’s attention was more drawn to her longtime friend before her—one she hadn’t seen in ages, whose elegance had only grown with time.

Her gaze swept over the meaningfully ambiguous Shadow Recording Stone in Qin Shuying’s hand, but she didn’t dwell on it.

‘It’s probably just some Sword Art insights she recorded,’ she thought.

What she cared about more was whether the wall of ice between them might finally thaw today.

They had been childhood playmates from the same village, each entering the path of immortality at different times.

But now, Qin Shuying was the Tianjian Peak Master, at the Nascent Soul Peak, with her Sword Dao Illuminated, her reputation so fearsome that even the Sect Elders treated her with deference.

As for herself, though she was also a Nascent Soul Peak Master, she had always lagged a step behind due to differences in cultivation methods, opportunities, and even temperament.

That gap had once fueled a quiet rivalry in her youth and had been one of the roots of the rift between them.

But now, she felt nothing but inadequacy.

‘Shuying… she really is as dazzling as ever.’

“Shuying, it’s been so long. Your elegance surpasses the past. I’m truly glad you could come today.”

A sincere but slightly awkward smile bloomed on Su Wan’er’s face.

She turned and naturally linked her arm through the dazed Shen Mo’s. “Junior Sister Qin, this is my husband.”

She gently pulled him forward a step.

“I imagine… you two must have met at Tianjian Peak a few days ago?”

She paused. “Don’t let his low cultivation level or gentle nature fool you.”

“Here on Jiaoyue Peak, over the years, I’ve often gone into seclusion. All the affairs—big and small, inside and out—have been managed solely by Mo’er’s meticulous care. That’s why everything is so orderly and stable.”

“He’s thoughtful and handles things thoroughly—he’s been a huge help.”

She patted his hand lightly, signaling him to relax.

With immense difficulty, Shen Mo summoned every ounce of strength to squeeze out a few words, as faint as a mosquito’s buzz and parched beyond measure.

“I have met the Tianjian Peak Master.”

After speaking, he lifted his head slightly.

His eyes carried a trace of pleading, as if begging her not to act recklessly.

Seeing that, the corner of Qin Shuying’s mouth lifted in a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

But she didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, she turned to Su Wan’er and said, “I’ve seen him a few times. He is indeed a fine man.”

Coming from Qin Shuying—who had a reputation for despising men and dismissing ordinary ones—that was the highest praise.

Su Wan’er’s anxious heart immediately relaxed. She was overjoyed, and her smile deepened.

“Right? I think Mo’er is wonderful too. At first, I worried that with your temperament, Shuying… you might find it uncomfortable. But hearing you say that puts my mind at ease.”

Her tone carried the lightheartedness of her youth, as if sharing a secret with a close friend.

“Mo’er has a great personality. You’ll see that as you get to know him.”

Su Wan’er led Qin Shuying to a guest seat, then sat in the master’s seat herself. Chunlan tactfully withdrew.

Shen Mo, being sensible, took over the tea serving.

He walked over to the small red clay stove nearby.

On the stove sat a white jade teapot, its spout gently releasing wisps of white mist imbued with elegant spiritual Qi.

“Shuying, this Snow-capped Emerald Tea was hand-roasted by Mo’er. The spiritual Qi is crisp and the aftertaste mellow. Try it and see if it suits your palate.”

Shen Mo first poured a cup of clear, emerald tea for his wife.

The water flowed softly, and the tea’s fragrance filled the air.

Then he turned his back to his wife and poured tea for Qin Shuying.

He held the cup with one hand, supported the pot’s base with the other, and bent slightly as he poured.

Qin Shuying appeared to be reaching for the tea.

But in truth, she stealthily touched the back of his hand.

She gently brushed her fingertip across his snow-soft skin.

A swift sweep.

From the base of his fingers to his wrist, from his wrist to his palm.

Shen Mo’s body stiffened.

The teapot tilted slightly, and a drop of scalding tea splashed onto the table.

‘She… right in front of Wan’er!

‘Right next to her!

‘And she’s… touching me?’

Shen Mo steadied himself.

He looked up at Qin Shuying.

Her usually cold eyes were now moist, like a deer whose tail had been stepped on by a hunter.

He dared not make a sound, dared not even pull his hand away forcefully. He could only let that long finger slowly trace over the back of his hand, sending a shivering current through him.

His eyes begged.

Begged her not to do this here, not in front of Su Wan’er.

A wave of cozy, warm satisfaction surged in Qin Shuying’s heart.

Like a cat that had finally cornered a mouse, watching it tremble under its paw, not rushing to bite, but slowly, gently toying with it.

Her movements didn’t stop.

She leaned forward, bowing her head.

From Su Wan’er’s angle, she was only carefully sniffing the tea’s aroma.

Only Shen Mo, so close, saw and felt it clearly.

A sensation—cool, soft, with just a hint of dryness—didn’t land on the teacup, but… gently pressed onto the back of his hand, which she had already covered.

A kiss—extremely fast, extremely light, yet carrying an unmistakable sense of possession.

It touched and then parted.

As it parted, the tip of her tongue faintly, as if by chance, licked the inside of his wrist.

The place where his pulse beat the strongest.

Shen Mo felt as if struck by lightning.

That tingling numbness shot from the back of his hand straight to the top of his skull, nearly making him drop the teapot.

Worse still, after doing all that, Qin Shuying deliberately looked up and shot him a meaningful, savoring smile, as if tasting some exquisite delicacy.

And all of this happened in the blind spot behind Su Wan’er, shielded by Shen Mo’s body.

She straightened up as if nothing had happened.

With one hand, she lifted the now-full tea cup to her lips and took a small sip.

With the fingers of her other hand, she lightly wiped away the drop of water on the table.

The entire motion was smooth and natural.

“This tea… truly has a rich fragrance.”

Su Wan’er smiled. “If you like it, I’ll give it to you.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

She hadn’t noticed the covert violation that had just occurred under her very nose in that fleeting moment.

Seeing that Qin Shuying had tasted the tea and even praised it, her heart swelled with joy.

She thought her aloof junior sister was indeed different today—not only had she come on her own, but her words also carried less distance.

This boosted her confidence in mending their old friendship.

“Shuying, you mentioned earlier that this Shadow Recording Stone is precious? Is it some kind of Sword Art insights?”

She looked at the stone, about the size of a pigeon’s egg, pitch-black, with a faint luster flowing across its surface.

In the brief pause before Qin Shuying answered, Shen Mo jerked up from his seat as if scalded.

The sudden movement knocked over the small stool behind him, making a clatter.

“Wa-Wan’er… you two… you sisters have been apart so long, you must have many private words to share… I, I being here might be inconvenient, disturbing your conversation…”

He was flustered, desperate for any excuse to disappear. “I… I’ll wait outside the hall. If, if you need anything—tea or otherwise—you can call me anytime.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and stumbled toward the exit, as if fleeing a vengeful spirit.