Luo Jinxiao was left speechless by Qu Weiyin’s scolding, opting to remain silent while internally grumbling about how Qu Weiyin seemed perpetually ready to explode like a firecracker.
At that moment, the sword spirit reappeared, awkwardly carrying a book that seemed enormous in its tiny hands.
“Here,” the sword spirit said, tossing the book at Luo Jinxiao.
Luo Jinxiao caught it deftly, found the page on forbidden techniques, and respectfully handed it to Qu Weiyin.
Qu Weiyin flipped through it briefly before stopping, her fingertips sparking a flame that consumed the book to ashes. “Such misleading nonsense,” she remarked, brushing the ash from her clothes with a look of disapproval.
Luo Jinxiao kept her head down, refraining from speaking.
“Your friend is here,” Qu Weiyin noted, glancing at the window before turning her gaze back to Luo Jinxiao. “Impressive how quickly you’ve made connections.”
Friend? Could it be Lu Fanzhi? How did she find this place? Luo Jinxiao realized she’d been unconscious for days, oblivious to external events. She boldly blinked at Qu Weiyin.
Qu Weiyin met her gaze with indifference, offering no response.
Luo Jinxiao edged closer with a smile that revealed her teeth: “Senior Aunt, I’ve been asleep for five whole days…”
“If you have something to ask, be quick about it,” Qu Weiyin said, settling down and conjuring a steaming cup of tea with a flick of her fingers.
“Well, I don’t need to pay for the Wuhui Palace, right?” Luo Jinxiao’s smile faded, replaced by unease.
Qu Weiyin hadn’t considered this, almost choking on her tea. She placed the cup down, raising her eyes to assess Luo Jinxiao: “Do you have the money?”
Luo Jinxiao shook her head quickly.
“Then what are you worried about? At worst, you’ll pay with your life. The Wuhui Palace has stood for a century; trading your life for it isn’t a loss.”
Luo Jinxiao’s heart tightened, eyes widening like a startled deer, amusing Qu Weiyin, though she quickly masked it with indifference: “The elders have sentenced you to cut firewood in the back mountain. You can’t return to the Wuhui Sect until you’ve cut enough for a year.”
“A year’s worth? And I can’t use spiritual power?” Luo Jinxiao found no humor in the situation. Summoning a Qiongqi seemed like a death sentence.
“They’ve circled below several times. Are you going down, or do they come up?” Qu Weiyin glanced out the window, tilting her chin slightly.
With a face full of sorrow, Luo Jinxiao was about to speak when Qu Weiyin nodded, waved her hand, and a gust of wind sent two people tumbling in through the window. One rolled to the ground, unable to stand, while the other, seemingly more skilled, staggered to their feet.
“Sister!” The girl who regained her balance lunged forward. Luo Jinxiao, still weak, almost fell but felt a supportive force at her waist.
She looked toward Qu Weiyin, who seemed completely unaware, sipping her tea lazily.
Suspicious, Luo Jinxiao turned her attention to the girl, who appeared about her age and bore a slight resemblance. Her lips were naturally red, her nose small and delicate, her eyes dark, though lacking Luo Jinxiao’s cheerful dimples, her face rounder and less impish.
She hadn’t paid much attention to the body’s background and was unaware she had a sister.
“Sister, I was out training for a month and didn’t know you joined the sect or got hurt. Let me see!” She circled Luo Jinxiao, reaching to check her condition.
“She has no external injuries, just damaged spiritual veins,” Qu Weiyin interjected, her tone as detached and indifferent as ever.
The voice startled the girl, who quickly turned and bowed her head respectfully, “Disciple greets Senior Aunt Qu.”
“Greetings, Senior Aunt Qu,” Lu Fanzhi managed, finally rising from the floor in disarray.
“Hmm,” Qu Weiyin remained unmoved.
“I was worried sick these five days, and I couldn’t find you. If not for my master, I would’ve thought you dead. I skipped morning practice today, coming here to find you. Sister Luo Ning returned from training and came along after hearing about you,” Lu Fanzhi chattered, her clothes wrinkled and messy.
“I’m fine,” Luo Jinxiao reassured them, smiling at their genuine concern.
From afar, Qu Weiyin watched, not sipping her tea.
“Is that really a Qiongqi? I’ve never seen a ferocious beast. Are you really keeping it? They’re ominous, bloodthirsty creatures. If you can’t control it…” Lu Fanzhi eyed the sleeping Qiongqi, curious yet hesitant to touch it.
“Ferocious beasts are born to devour human flesh, strip human bones,” Qu Weiyin said suddenly, her gaze on the massive creature growing frightening, her narrowed eyes unfathomable, chilling to the core.
Lu Fanzhi and Luo Ning exchanged anxious glances, retreating in fear.
Luo Jinxiao’s heart pounded. Qu Weiyin’s fearsome demeanor reminded her of the Demon Sovereign from her past life, yet she felt this wasn’t Qu Weiyin’s true nature.
The fierceness seemed like a façade.
So, without knowing why, she boldly stepped forward, grabbing the Qiongqi by the scruff and lifting it with all her strength. The startled Qiongqi whimpered, its body dangling.
Its wings, previously hidden, fluttered as if pleading.
Luo Ning stared, dumbfounded, nudging Lu Fanzhi: “When did my sister get so strong?”
“How should I know?” Lu Fanzhi shrugged.
Qu Weiyin’s expression softened, surprised as she met Luo Jinxiao’s gaze. They held their breath, eyes locked.
Qu Weiyin was the first to look away, awkwardly asking, “What are you trying to say?”
“I was thinking,” Luo Jinxiao said, casting a glance around, picking up a small stack of cold pastries from the table, and tossing one into the Qiongqi’s mouth. “Though a ferocious beast, the Qiongqi is like a big cat—grab it by the scruff, and it can’t move. It loves sweets as much as flesh.”
The Qiongqi smacked its lips, stretching its pink tongue for more pastries.
Qu Weiyin froze, something warm and soft unfurling inside her, like spring sunshine. She bit her lip and, after a pause, said coldly, “So what?”
“Therefore, I want to name it Little Sweetie,” Luo Jinxiao declared, releasing the Qiongqi and smiling brightly.
Luo Ning and Lu Fanzhi nearly toppled over at her words.
Qu Weiyin coughed softly, struggling to maintain her composure as she muttered, “That’s a terrible name.”
Her tone carried a trace of resignation.
“Now that you’re rested, hurry up and chop firewood.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I just woke up, I’m too weak to chop that much wood,” Luo Jinxiao protested, collapsing onto the Qiongqi in mock exhaustion.
“Whenever you chop, it’s the same. If not for Elder Xie’s plea, your misuse of forbidden arts would have had you expelled,” Qu Weiyin huffed. “Fail to finish in five days, and you’ll pack your things and leave the Wuhui Sect.”
Despite her reluctance, Luo Jinxiao knew she had no choice but to comply. She trudged toward the door, then, seemingly emboldened, turned back.
“Senior Aunt, without spiritual power, how do I reach the back mountain?” she asked, biting her lip, a pitiful pout revealing her dimples.
Qu Weiyin glanced at her and quickly looked away: “Not my concern.”
“Ow…” Luo Jinxiao seemed to have figured out Qu Weiyin’s soft-heartedness and immediately feigned weakness.
Her sickly appearance, with bright, pleading eyes, indeed elicited sympathy. Qu Weiyin frowned in exasperation but didn’t push her away.
“Troublesome,” she muttered, suddenly grabbing Luo Jinxiao’s arm, vanishing in a flash.
When Luo Jinxiao blinked again, Qu Weiyin was gone, leaving her alone in the dense forest, the leaves rustling above, lush and green, the scent of grass filling her nostrils.
Her arm still tingled from Qu Weiyin’s touch, the red sleeve brushing softly, coolly, leaving a lingering sensation that seemed to penetrate her heart.
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