At midnight, the evening breeze brushed past the copper bells on the eaves, shaking loose a delicate, tinkling sound.
The ancient osmanthus tree in the courtyard cast dappled shadows under the moonlight.
Song Yao leaned against the couch, clutching half a volume of a pill manual, her breathing soft and shallow.
Her features, which usually held a trace of casual indifference, relaxed in her sleep, revealing a rare touch of softness.
Creak—
The courtyard gate was gently pushed open.
Xie Zhou walked in holding a porcelain bottle. A corner of his white robes fluttered in the night wind, his expression as cold and indifferent as usual.
He stopped in front of the couch and said in a flat voice, “Lin Mu, the Sixteenth Elder asked me to bring you some medicine.”
The young girl was fast asleep. Her eyelashes didn't even flutter; she merely let out a mumbled grunt and hugged the pill manual in her arms even tighter.
Xie Zhou stared down at her for a moment before crouching by the edge of the couch.
His well-defined fingers grasped her calf, carefully removing her shoe and sock.
The moonlight fell at an angle, illuminating her slender, pale ankle.
Upon it was a wound so deep that bone was visible.
It had lightly scabbed over, but dark red blood was still seeping out, and the surrounding flesh was bruised a sickly, unnatural purple.
His brow furrowed tightly the moment he saw it.
With a wound this deep, why isn't she crying?
In the past, a domineering, unreasonable person like her would have thrown the entire Nine Saints Hall into an uproar over a mere scratch on her finger.
She would have even snuck into her master's treasure vault to steal spiritual pills, throwing a tantrum to heal herself.
Why isn't she crying now?
It had been six or seven hours since they returned from the demon realm.
While so many other disciples were receiving treatment, she hadn't uttered a single word.
Why?
He unscrewed the porcelain bottle and gently sprinkled the medicinal powder onto the wound.
The instant the powder sank into the torn flesh, a sharp, stabbing pain flared up.
Song Yao jolted awake. Her body reacted faster than her brain, and she kicked out fiercely at the figure before her.
Xie Zhou was already prepared. His fingers firmly caught her calf.
He controlled his strength perfectly, halting her movement without touching her injury in the slightest.
Forced to a stop, Song Yao froze when she recognized him. “Fourth Ju... Fourth Senior Brother?”
Xie Zhou looked at her indifferently, his long eyelashes veiling the turbulent emotions in his eyes. “Behave.”
He released his grip on her calf and dabbed some more powder, his fingertips brushing over the bruised skin with extreme gentleness.
Song Yao didn't dare move, her eyes blinking rapidly.
This wasn't right.
Was she still dreaming?
Why would her Fourth Junior Brother be here, personally tending to her wounds?
Had she reborn to a time before her death?
Back then, scenes like this indeed occurred frequently.
Domineering and utterly unreasonable, she had spent all day, every day, tormenting and humiliating her most obedient Fourth Junior Brother.
Making him take off and put on her shoes was a common occurrence, and she would even throw her dirty clothes at him to wash.
Whether he simply didn't dare to resist, he had always obediently complied.
But now, even if she were given ten thousand times her usual courage, she wouldn't dare let him tend to her like this.
After all, her cultivation was completely sealed. He could pinch her to death with a single finger.
The stinging pain brought her back to reality. Song Yao tensed her face, a light sweat breaking out on her forehead.
She tried to stop him. “Fourth Senior Brother, how about I do it myself?”
Xie Zhou said, “Shut up.”
Song Yao replied, “Oh.”
Only after wrapping the final layer of bandage did Xie Zhou withdraw his hand. He placed the porcelain bottle on the stone table, his tone remaining cold and stiff. “The Sixteenth Elder ordered that your medicine be changed once a day. Stop trying to act tough and endure it.”
Song Yao was exceptionally well-behaved, politely cupping her hands to him. “Thank you, Fourth Senior Brother.”
“Mhm.”
Xie Zhou turned to leave, but after a moment's hesitation, he pulled out a neatly folded paper parcel and set it on the stone table. He said flatly, “The Sixteenth Elder gave this to you.”
Song Yao's eyes lit up slightly.
Wasn't this the delicious osmanthus candy from Sichun City?
She heard it was made from syrup boiled from the very first batch of golden osmanthus in early autumn. It was soft and sweet upon entry, leaving a refreshing, lingering aroma of osmanthus.
She used to love it the most. One year, she had even kidnapped the shop owner and brought him up the mountain just to make it solely for her.
It was winter now. Let alone the first batch of golden osmanthus, even the osmanthus trees had lost all their leaves. How was it still possible to buy this?
She reached out to take it, but before her hand could touch it, the courtyard gate was pushed open once more.
He Yu rushed in like a gust of wind, carrying a woven rattan box in his hand. He shouted from afar, “Junior Sister! Look at the good stuff I brought you!”
Catching sight of Xie Zhou, he froze for a second before politely greeting him, “Ah, Fourth Senior Brother is here too.”
Then, he plopped down on Song Yao's couch and stuffed the box into her arms. “Last time you mentioned baking jujube cakes in an elixir furnace, so I tried it. It smells amazing! Quick, try some!”
The sweet scent of honeyed jujubes practically overflowed.
Song Yao's hand, which had been reaching for the candy, took a detour. She picked up a steaming pastry and popped it into her mouth.
It was indeed soft and sweet.
Her cheeks puffed out as she offered a suggestion, “It would be even better with a bit more sugar, but it's still delicious. Next time, let's not bake pastries. Let's roast pork belly instead. It'll definitely taste amazing.”
He Yu hesitated. “Won't roasting meat smell too strong?”
“Isn't there a senior sister with a water spiritual root? We can just ask her to wash the smell away when the time comes.”
“Clever, very clever!”
He Yu accepted the idea instantly. “I'll have Master slaughter a chicken tomorrow.”
As the two of them chatted merrily, Song Yao suddenly remembered Xie Zhou was still standing nearby. She looked up and offered him a pastry, saying politely, “Fourth Senior Brother, would you like to try some too?”
Xie Zhou's expression darkened for some reason. His thin lips pressed into a tight line as he spat out two words: “No need.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the courtyard, sweeping up the bag of osmanthus candy from the stone table on his way out.
Song Yao: “...?”
Wasn't the osmanthus candy a gift from the Sixteenth Elder?
She hadn't even eaten a single piece...
And why did he suddenly seem angry?
He Yu scratched his head. “It's fine, it's fine. Fourth Senior Brother has always been like this. He doesn't really like talking to people. We're all used to it.”
Song Yao was puzzled. “Fourth Senior Brother has always been like this? Didn't he become like this because of what happened on the main peak?”
Before she had dug up his parents' remains, Xie Zhou had always been obedient and good-tempered.
Even if she made him angry, he would quickly soothe himself and run back to find her, even bowing his head to apologize to her in turn.
“Where did you hear such a rumor?”
He Yu glanced at her with a look of sheer disbelief. “Although Fourth Senior Brother wasn't as temperamental back then as he is now, he still rarely associated with anyone. He was extremely cold.”
Song Yao: “Cold? Xie Zhou was cold?”
“Yeah, everyone was actually a bit afraid of him.”
“...”
Was this even the same Xie Zhou she knew?
Song Yao still remembered that in order to raise Xie Zhou's corruption value, she had done some incredibly excessive and shameless things.
She had tricked Xie Zhou into going down the mountain to play, but in reality, she led him to Black Cloud Mountain to draw aggro.
What kind of place was Black Cloud Mountain? To put it nicely, it was a reclusive sect; to put it bluntly, it was a gathering place for dark cultivators, evil cultivators, and demonic cultivators.
It was only because their entrance was difficult to find, their actions were discreet, and their geographical location was awkward that they hadn't been wiped out yet.
It just so happened to be the birthday banquet of the young master of Black Cloud Mountain, and all the disciples had gathered.
Song Yao tricked Xie Zhou into sneaking in with her, swapping the cauldron maiden they had carefully selected for sacrifice with a three-hundred-pound fat pig.
Then, while the sect master of Black Cloud Mountain was giving his congratulatory speech, she set fire to the hair of all the disciples present.
The entire birthday banquet descended into absolute chaos. Without a second thought, Song Yao turned tail and ran, leaving Xie Zhou there all by himself.
She thought that after doing all this, his corruption value would surely peak.
She planned to find an opportunity to rescue him as soon as it peaked, but she leaned against a tree and waited for half the night without any sign of him.
It wasn't until dawn began to break that Xie Zhou finally arrived, walking up to her covered in a bloody stench.
His white robes were soaked through with dark red blood, and wet droplets of blood clung to the tips of his hair.
He took her hand, pressed his face against it, his nose brushing against her fingertips. Looking at her with an almost fragile expression, his voice held a trace of pleading as he said, “Senior Sister, don't leave me behind next time, okay?”
Back then, Song Yao had thought that there truly couldn't be anyone in the world with a better temper than Xie Zhou.
But this person was clearly quite different from the cold senior brother He Yu described.
How strange.
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