Chapter 8: An Additional Kind of Affection

If I were to recount this matter from the beginning, it would indeed be a tangled affair.

Sheng Ningyu and Xie Qianjing had followed the plan to move ahead first. After the events of that day, the inn’s patrons were somewhat aware of their ordeal and mostly sympathized with them. Coupled with Sheng Ningyu’s thorough preparations and impeccable timing, no one dared to obstruct them.

Once they left the inn, Sheng Ningyu felt a great relief.

Neither of them was in a hurry; they walked along the way, occasionally taking breaks, and somehow passed five or six days without incident.

Beyond the last forest ahead lay the complete exit from the Mian Tian Realm.

Sheng Ningyu looked at the person beside her and asked again, “Are you really not going to take some disguise pills?”

Xie Qianjing had only taken one and, once they left the inn, handed all the remaining disguise pills to her.

He shook his head. “No need to waste them on me. Since you, Daoist Sheng, are heading all the way to Linghuan Dock, you will need the pills to conceal your identity. As for the Chu family, I’ve already thought of a way to avoid them.”

He slowed his pace as he spoke, turned to face Sheng Ningyu, then lowered his eyes. His long eyelashes, delicate like the wings of a dying butterfly, gradually veiled the light in his gaze.

“After passing through the forest ahead, I will head west toward the Great Wild Mountains. Daoist Sheng’s destination, Linghuan Dock, lies to the east. Since our paths differ, it is only fitting we part ways.”

Whether it was her own overthinking, Sheng Ningyu felt that when Xie Qianjing mentioned “parting,” there was something… unusual in his tone.

Having been isolated for so long and just recently awakened, Sheng Ningyu’s understanding of others’ emotions was limited to surface impressions. Thus, at this moment, she could not discern whether Xie Qianjing was happy or displeased.

No, it didn’t matter.

Why should she care whether he was happy or not?

Before Sheng Ningyu could ponder further, she suddenly heard Xie Qianjing ask, “Daoist Sheng, aren’t you going to change that branch?”

Sheng Ningyu shook her head. “No.”

Xie Qianjing replied, “It’s been used for several days; it’s probably a bit worn and not sharp enough.”

Sheng Ningyu said, “Still not changing it. I’m quite sentimental.”

For some reason, that remark seemed to offend Xie Qianjing. His eyes darkened, and though the curve of his lips barely changed, the smile in his eyes faded somewhat. His usually gentle expression now seemed covered by a layer of cold frost.

This person truly was…

Sheng Ningyu thought to herself and couldn’t help but chuckle softly, which in turn drew a glance from Xie Qianjing.

“What are you laughing at, Daoist Sheng?”

“I’m amused by your name.” Sheng Ningyu curved her eyes into a smile, holding the withered branch in her left hand, hopping in front of Xie Qianjing and motioning toward the ground. “Qianjing—thousand mirrors, thousand gold. Mister Xie, with your youthful elegance and radiant purity, you truly live up to the name of ‘thousand-gold body.’”

There was another thought she kept to herself:

Not only your appearance but your temperament resembles that of a noble young lady from a prestigious family.

One who needs to be indulged and coaxed.

Take the matter with the Chu family, for instance. He harbors enmity with them, and whenever she mentioned the Chu family, he would glare at her, forbidding anyone else to say a kind word about them.

As Sheng Ningyu pondered this, a sudden realization struck her.

How strange.

She was well aware that she herself was not a patient person. Apart from sword training, she had little tolerance for anything else and was always allowed to act according to her own temper. Yet, since meeting Xie Qianjing, it was as if she had been bewitched, naturally choosing to soothe him.

The more Sheng Ningyu thought about it, the more amazed she became. With disbelief, she looked up and asked, “I say, Daoist Xie, could you possibly be some ancient hundred-year-old demon spirit? Or perhaps a descendant of the Thousand Poisons Den of Yunmeng Marsh, with a knack for casting spells on others?”

Xie Qianjing bowed his head and smiled faintly. “And what if I truly were?”

Sheng Ningyu froze mid-step, then slowly came to a halt.

Taking advantage of their imminent parting, Sheng Ningyu grabbed Xie Qianjing’s sleeve and scrutinized him from head to toe.

His clothing was simple, yet on him, it seemed to ripple like a cloud garment. His complexion was pale, lacking some blood, and when the breeze brushed his affectionate eyes, it seemed as if the starry heavens stirred within. When those eyes met hers, they no longer held the pure clarity of their first meeting but resembled the last fleeting glance of a Bodhi lotus about to be consumed by flames.

The more it struggled, the more enchanting it became.

While Sheng Ningyu examined him, Xie Qianjing stood still, his posture yielding, showing no resistance.

After she looked for a while, he finally spoke softly, “Daoist Sheng, what have you seen?”

From beyond the trees, thin wisps of crimson mist surged inward rapidly.

Sheng Ningyu deliberately lengthened her tone. “I see—”

That’s fine.

Xie Qianjing thought, at last, I have a reason to kill her.

He contemplated this but did not move, allowing Sheng Ningyu to turn and take a few steps back, hands clasped behind her, her eyes curved like a new moon with a smile.

“I see, Xie Qianjing, your eyes are truly very beautiful.”

Her tone was sincere, her expression filled with genuine praise, yet inwardly, she remained extremely vigilant.

Though there was clearly no murderous intent present, Sheng Ningyu sensed a heavy aura of killing intent.

Her hands were held behind her back to help steady her body and evade attacks.

Yet for some reason, Xie Qianjing remained motionless, standing there for a long moment.

The young man’s figure was tall and graceful, the corners of his eyes and brows carrying a chill; his lowered gaze and silence were as pure and cold as white snow.

A breeze blew through the little path on both sides, swirling the fallen leaves at their feet and stirring a wave of coolness.

The smile on Sheng Ningyu’s face stiffened, and her alertness spiked to its peak. Just then, she heard Xie Qianjing speak.

“Do you really think my eyes are ‘beautiful’ now?”

Sheng Ningyu: “...?”

After pondering for a long moment, was that the question?

She was silent for a beat, then answered earnestly, “If it were up to me, the eyes I like most are those that are pure and clear, like crystal glass…”

The curve of Xie Qianjing’s lips did not change.

He had long known this.

She had said the same words countless times in the past.

She once loved to praise his eyes using words like glass, stars, and jewels—comparing them to all the pure and beautiful things in the world.

Judging by this, she had been consistent all along; even after a hundred years, she still—

“But just now, it seems I’ve found a new kind of fondness.”

Sheng Ningyu tilted her head slightly, gazing at the sunlight filtering through the branches and buds by the roadside—a sparse, gentle light that was also quite captivating.

“Compared to pure clarity, who says that adding a veil of mist and a spark of fire isn’t also a magnificent human spectacle?”

She caught a falling pear blossom in her hand, turned her face and lifted an eyebrow, her tone lively and natural. “Your eyes are already beautiful, so no matter when I see them, no matter what emotion they hold, I will like them.”

She had been too close just now—close enough to clearly see his reflection in those still bright eyes.

Xie Qianjing’s faint breath faltered for a moment but quickly regained calm.

She was always like this.

Every word perfectly placed, always touching that subtle empty space in one’s heart, filling it with joy and making one wish to bind her by their side forever, companion every day and night.

Even if the words were false, she could speak them with such sincere happiness that they seemed heartfelt, causing one to lose themselves in them, unable to distinguish truth from falsehood.

Xie Qianjing thought, I must never trust her again.

The crimson mist that had encroached from both sides of the forest suddenly dissipated.

The killing intent vanished.

After probing for some time without result, Sheng Ningyu was utterly baffled, even doubting her own senses.

It couldn’t be true that there was killing intent earlier, and that it dissipated simply because she complimented Xie Qianjing’s eyes, could it?

That would be absurd.

“—Though I am genuinely curious about something I mentioned earlier.”

Sheng Ningyu joked, her gaze searching Xie Qianjing’s face. “You’re so handsome and have strange abilities. Could it be that you’re really a five-hundred-year-old demon?”

She deliberately asked in a disjointed way, as if she were babbling on casually. Unexpectedly, Xie Qianjing smiled, perfectly sidestepping all her traps.

“By human years, I am indeed not young.”

Sheng Ningyu: “...”

So being over two hundred years old might be true?

This meant the person before her was older than herself, yet she had previously regarded him as a junior.

Her thoughts raced. Suddenly realizing this, she caught the smile rising in Xie Qianjing’s eyes and twitched her mouth.

Very well, at least now she was certain.

This was not a mindset or demeanor that any mere junior could easily possess!

Sheng Ningyu was about to speak when a sharp, urgent scream came from behind: “Get out of the way—!”

At the same moment, a ghostly chill and sinister wind swept in!