The words that followed were completely incomprehensible to Rong Hua. All he felt was a buzzing in his head, as if an infinitely harsh and chaotic sound was shrieking in his ears, causing a persistent ringing.
As if lost in thought, he quietly gazed at Shen Yue, a metallic taste flooding his throat. He wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth, no words came out.
After an unknown amount of time, the man, his expression blank, let out a self-mocking sneer. He pulled his hand away from Shen Yue, slowly stood up, and left without a backward glance, not looking at Shen Yue again.
—
Shen Yue slowly woke up after a day of heavy drinking, her head still feeling groggy. She frowned and rubbed her temples.
The system asked indifferently, [Do you remember what happened yesterday?]
Shen Yue remembered nothing. Upon hearing the system’s question, she instinctively asked, [What happened?]
The system: [Heh.]
Shen Yue: [???]
The system: [You’re on your own.]
With these words, the system went offline. No matter how much Shen Yue prodded it, the system ignored her.
Shen Yue also developed a bit of a temper, finding the system’s mood increasingly unbearable. It was utterly outrageous!
Secretly cursing the system thoroughly in her mind, Shen Yue felt better. She looked around her surroundings and realized she was in her own sleeping quarters.
She only remembered drinking too much, and then feeling a blissful haze, after which she remembered nothing.
Shen Yue thought about it and decided she should go see how far the relationship between her disciple and the female lead had progressed, especially since the male lead had already appeared and the plot was beginning to unfold.
She seemed to sense Rong Hua’s current location with her spiritual energy and headed towards the bamboo forest.
Snowflakes fell one by one, like falling blossoms, dreamlike and ethereal.
Before she even got close, Shen Yue’s excellent hearing picked up a clear, bell-like laughter from not far away.
Joyful, innocent, and full of vitality.
It was out of place in the cold and quiet Xin Qing Palace.
Xin Qing Palace was vast, yet it also appeared incredibly lonely. Yin Jing disliked being alone. She was like a fledgling bird, knowing only Rong Hua here, and only willing to follow Rong Hua.
Rong Hua practiced his sword nearby, and she would play with the small birds beside him, often getting lost in her own amusement.
However, her smile soon faded, and she turned to watch the man practicing his sword. She could sense that the man seemed unhappy. Although his expressions were few, Yin Jing had clearly noticed.
She watched blankly, and as her gaze shifted, she saw a figure in white.
Her eyebrows were clear and sharp, like distant mountains and tranquil water, devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
Snowflakes slowly drifted down, landing on Shen Yue’s white robe, blending in.
She murmured, "Immortal Master…"
The man who had been practicing his sword, his ears perked up, felt his composure disturbed. His swordplay faltered, and he was forced to stop. His palm was cut, and blood immediately began to flow, dripping onto the snow-covered ground.
Yin Jing gasped, “Hua, your hand is injured.”
After saying this, she immediately went to the man’s side, took out a handkerchief from her sleeve, and bandaged it with a look of heartache.
Upon hearing that Rong Hua was injured, Shen Yue immediately walked over. Smelling the faint scent of blood, she said with concern, “Let your teacher have a look.”
As she finished speaking, she reached out to grasp the man’s hand to heal him. However, as soon as her hand touched his hand, the man quickly pulled it back.
Shen Yue’s hand remained suspended in mid-air, her fingertips retracting in confusion.
As if unable to comprehend, she asked, “Rong Hua?”
With his eyes cast down emotionlessly, Rong Hua’s face was cold. He simply replied indifferently, “A minor injury.”
He obediently allowed Yin Jing to bandage his wound but refused to let Shen Yue touch it.
Shen Yue clearly felt the change in Rong Hua’s attitude towards her. It was cold, respectful, and undeniably indifferent, carrying a hint of aversion, which left Shen Yue feeling at a loss.
Shen Yue pursed her lips, puzzled. She stood quietly amidst the pure white snow. The bamboo stood tall and verdant, swaying in the wind, their shadows dancing, the rustling sound like music.
Her eyes were covered with a white cloth, the moonlight vast, her eyebrows and eyes exceptionally refined, yet appearing somewhat ethereal.
A gentle breeze blew, her three thousand strands of black hair fluttering slightly. Her frost-kissed face contrasted with the white snow, making it difficult to discern who was whiter. Only her lips, as resplendent and chillingly beautiful as crabapples, were breathtaking.
Her fingers, like white jade, finally drooped down.
After Yin Jing finished bandaging Rong Hua’s hand, she looked up and felt an inexplicable awkwardness in the atmosphere.
Looking at the immortal in white, Yin Jing, for some reason, saw helplessness in her expression.
Yin Jing thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. How could an immortal master show such an expression of helplessness?
She looked at the cold, refined brows and eyes of the immortal in white and instinctively offered words of comfort, “Immortal Master, don’t worry. Hua’s hand injury isn’t deep.”
Hearing this, Shen Yue lowered her head towards Yin Jing and said faintly, “It’s good that it’s nothing serious.”
After saying this, Shen Yue seemed unwilling to linger. She turned to leave.
“Where are you going?” Rong Hua raised his eyes to look at the retreating immortal in white, his expression unusually cold. He seemed to mock, “Isn’t this your palace? Where else do you want to go?”
Shen Yue was startled. She hadn’t expected him to ask this so suddenly. Although she couldn’t see Rong Hua’s expression, she could sense his distance and coldness from his words.
She thought… Rong Hua must detest her and not want to be with her.
He probably wouldn’t even want her to touch him, otherwise, his reaction would have been so strong when Shen Yue merely brushed his hand earlier.
Rong Hua probably didn’t want to see her.
So, wasn’t her staying far away in line with Rong Hua’s wishes?
Although she felt confused, Shen Yue did not show it.
A suffocating silence permeated the air for a moment.
Shen Yue, unable to see, vaguely felt the man’s gaze, sharp as a cold glint.
She parted her lips and, finally, as she had wished, said, “I’m returning to the study.”
Rong Hua, holding Que Hua and standing in place, silently watched the departing figure. His seemingly cold and impassive eyes were gradually shrouded in a gloomy darkness, surging with a dangerous and cruel power that threatened to erupt at any moment.
Rong Hua lowered his gaze and used his sleeve to wipe the bloodstains from the blade of Que Hua, which still bore his blood.
Seeing this, Yin Jing quickly stopped him, “Don’t wipe it with your sleeve. I have a handkerchief here…”
She knew how precious Rong Hua was about the sword, wiping it five or six times a day, as if not allowing a speck of dust to remain on it. As she spoke, she took out a clean handkerchief to help wipe it, but Rong Hua reflexively slapped it away.
“Slap—”
The crisp sound caused both of them to freeze.
Yin Jing’s hand still stung and burned. She looked at the man with a sense of grievance.