Chi Yuan's foot caught in a gap between the bluestone slabs, and her body swayed slightly. Shen Qingci immediately wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into her embrace.
Chi Yuan did not push her away.
“We've reached the east wing.”
Shen Qingci freed up a hand to push open the courtyard gate.
The guest room was spacious, with a small parlor in the outer area and a bedroom in the inner area. A large bed with cloud-silk curtains took up half of one wall. In the innermost part was a spiritual spring bath, its hot water churning as white mist drifted past the screen.
Shen Qingci helped Chi Yuan sit down on the edge of the bed. Chi Yuan sat perfectly straight, her hands resting flat on her knees.
If not for her eyes having already lost their focus, her posture would have served as the perfect model for all sword cultivator disciples.
Shen Qingci squatted down to remove her senior sister's boots. As the boots hit the floor, Chi Yuan looked down, staring at the small cowlick on the crown of her head. Only after a long while did she softly call out, “Little Junior Sister.”
“Hmm?”
“The earth source crystal,” Chi Yuan spoke half a beat slower than usual. “I originally planned to use it to upgrade Frostchill.”
Shen Qingci looked up at her. “Then why did you give it away?”
Chi Yuan thought about it seriously, seemingly trying to organize her words. After a long while, she gave up and simply said two words: “Wanted to!”
Shen Qingci pressed her down onto the bed, pulled up the quilt to cover her, and turned around to pour some hangover tea.
Before her hand could touch the teapot, a hand reached out from beneath the quilt and clasped her wrist. Even though Chi Yuan was clearly so drunk her eyes were unfocused, her grip on the wrist was perfectly precise.
“That clam girl,” Chi Yuan said, pausing for half a breath. “Not good-looking.”
Shen Qingci forcefully held back her laughter. She turned around and leaned down close to her senior sister. “Which clam girl? Bizhu?”
Chi Yuan's brow furrowed deeply at the mention of the name Bizhu.
“Not good-looking,” she repeated. “Her waist is too thin, not stable.”
“Then what kind of person does Senior Sister find good-looking?” Shen Qingci leaned against the edge of the bed, resting her chin on her crossed arms.
Chi Yuan stared at her for a very long time, so long that Shen Qingci thought she had fallen asleep. The hand under the quilt still hadn't let go, gripping her wrist as her thumb subconsciously brushed against Shen Qingci's pulse.
“Someone like you,” Chi Yuan said.
Shen Qingci's heart gave a violent thump in her chest. It was a dull thud, as if she had been forcefully poked with a sword hilt—entirely different from the fluttering skip of a typical heartbeat.
She leaned close to Chi Yuan's ear. “Senior Sister, are you confessing to me?”
Chi Yuan did not answer.
Her breathing was steady, her eyelashes drooped, and her grip on the wrist slowly loosened.
Shen Qingci lay there and waited for a good while.
Chi Yuan, her wonderful senior sister, the famous sword dao genius of the Southern Region, had fallen asleep right after saying “someone like you”!!!
She sat by the bedside for a long time.
So long that the sound of the water in the spiritual spring bath grew distant, and the night dew on the parasol leaves outside the window condensed into frost.
She looked down, studying Chi Yuan's peaceful sleeping face. The cold, sharp edge in her eyes and brows had completely dissipated after she fell asleep from the wine, leaving her lips slightly pursed.
She reached out, hovering her hand over the corner of Chi Yuan's lips, and pressed down...
“Senior Sister, oh Senior Sister, when you sober up tomorrow morning, will you still remember the drunken words you spoke tonight?”
“If you try to deny it, your junior sister might just lock you up!”
...
The next morning, Chi Yuan was awakened by the chirping of birds in the parasol tree outside the window.
The moment she opened her eyes, she felt a splitting headache. The lingering effects of the Jade Dew Brew hadn't fully cleared yet, and her temples throbbed painfully.
She instinctively wanted to raise her hand to rub her brow, only to find that her arm was pinned down by something.
Her junior sister had somehow pillowed herself on it again, curled up entirely in her embrace. Her face was buried near Chi Yuan's collarbone, her breathing even and long.
Chi Yuan's body stiffened slightly as her memories of last night rushed back frame by frame.
The banquet hall, the Jade Dew Brew, Mr. Nan raising his glass, the seventh cup of wine, and then her little junior sister helping her back to the room, removing her boots, and pressing her onto the bed.
And then...
“Someone like you.”
Those four words floated up from the depths of her memory, so clear that she wanted to draw her sword and slash herself.
She looked down at the person in her arms.
Shen Qingci was still asleep, her eyelashes resting peacefully, the corners of her mouth curled upward as if she were having a wonderful dream.
The quilt had been kicked to the foot of the bed at some point, and their hair was tangled together, making it impossible to tell whose was whose.
Chi Yuan carefully slid her arm out and sat up from the bed. She kept her movements as light as possible, even holding her breath, but Shen Qingci still furrowed her brow in her sleep and let out a muffled whimper.
Chi Yuan paused. Only when the other's brow smoothed out did she continue to slip out of bed.
Stepping barefoot onto the floor tiles, a chill rushed up from the soles of her feet. As she stood by the bed straightening her collar, she noticed a patch of purplish-blue bruising near her collarbone, looking as if she had been bitten.
Facing the bronze mirror, she pulled her collar over it to barely cover it. She stood before the mirror for a brief moment to make sure her expression had returned to normal before turning around.
Shen Qingci was already awake.
She was lying on her side on the bed, propping her head up with one hand while her other hand patted the empty space beside her. Her voice carried the soft, sweet sleepiness of someone who had just woken up. “Why is Senior Sister up already? Lie down a bit longer.”
“It's dawn.”
“Just because it's dawn means we can't lie down?” Shen Qingci nudged closer to her, pulling the quilt up to her chin.
“You need more rest after a night of heavy drinking. Senior Sister drank seven cups last night, so your meridians must still be sluggish right now.”
Chi Yuan did not speak.
Shen Qingci curled her eyes into crescents and patted the edge of the bed. “Sitting for a bit is fine, right?”
Chi Yuan sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on her knees, her posture identical to when she was drunk last night. Shen Qingci leaned against the headboard and watched her, gathering the quilt to her chest, saying nothing as she simply stared.
Chi Yuan felt thoroughly uncomfortable under her junior sister's gaze.
Those eyes were too bright. The morning light filtered through the gaps in the gauze curtains, landing right on Shen Qingci's face. Her pupils seemed flecked with crushed gold, filled to the brim with Chi Yuan's reflection.
Chi Yuan turned her head away, touching her forehead. “Last night...”
“What about last night?”
Shen Qingci tilted her head, her tone utterly innocent.
Chi Yuan fell silent.
She remembered what she had said; she hadn't forgotten a single sentence, and she couldn't deny a single word. After a long silence, she simply let go of her forehead and raised her eyes to look at her.
“What does the 'confession' you spoke of mean?”
The smile on Shen Qingci's face faded slightly, but the corners of her mouth remained curved. Only her gaze changed, shifting from playful to earnest.
She sat up straight. The quilt slipped from her shoulders, revealing a section of her collarbone from the collar of her inner garment. Chi Yuan's gaze unconsciously drifted down half an inch before she quickly pulled it back.
“Why does Senior Sister ask this?”
“Don't you remember everything?”
“I do,” Chi Yuan said. “That is why I am asking you.”
Shen Qingci stared into her eyes for a long moment. Chi Yuan's eyes were beautiful, clear and bright.
She suddenly smiled.
The dimples on her face sank deep, and even the corners of her eyes curved upward.
“Senior Sister,” Shen Qingci leaned forward, the distance between them shrinking from an arm's length to half a foot. “Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Yes, very much.”
Shen Qingci sat cross-legged, putting on a serious face as if she were about to deliver a lecture. However, her fingers lightly tapping on her knee betrayed her.
In truth, she was also incredibly nervous!
“A confession, among cultivators, usually refers to a mutual intention to form a bond on the level of spiritual energy resonance.”
“Specifically, it refers to a cultivator explicitly expressing their desire to form a Dao companion relationship with another cultivator, either verbally or through divine sense transmission.”
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