“Hey, hey, hey, Senior Brother Shen, you need to handle this matter yourself. Don’t drag Senior Brother Su into it.” Jihe waved her hand, batting Shen Yanchu away like an annoying insect as she pried his fingers off Su Rongyu one by one. Inwardly, she cursed: This cunning little green tea not only abducts my son, but also tries to take advantage of our Rongyu. What an utterly shameless big scumbag, hurry up and get out of my sight!
Shen Yanchu lazily rolled his eyes, his gaze landing on Jihe like a blade while a provocative smile tugged at the corner of his mouth: “O-ur S-enior B-rother S-u? Su Rongyu is our Lingxiao Peak’s precious treasure, and a little girl from Yunyun Peak like you dares to talk so boldly about ‘our’?” He wiggled his waist as he spoke, looking every bit as smug as if to say: Let’s see what you can do about it.
Watching this scene from the side, Ji Yanche couldn’t help letting out a sudden snort of laughter, the sound like a spring breeze brushing across a frozen lake, revealing a rare warmth and softness rarely seen in him.
Jiang Siwang, however, wore an anxious expression. His face flushed bright red, and he practically roared, “Shen Yanchu! Can you stop randomly flashing charm and seducing people in broad daylight!”
“Huh?” Hearing this, Shen Yanchu’s eye twitched as he mentally complained: What on earth is going on inside this kid Jiang Siwang’s head? How does he always manage to spit out such baffling things?
With this chaotic scene and these chaotic people, Lingxiao Peak would likely never know peace again.
Late at night, after all the commotion, the group finally retired to their respective rooms to sleep.
Su Rongyu and Jihe engaged in their usual routine, chatting all night long and trash-talking Shen Yanchu.
Jiang Siwang lay awake plotting how to make things difficult for Ji Yanche the next day, while Ji Yanche flipped through the book Shen Yanchu had given him, studying it meticulously.
As for our champion of righteousness and sword dao supreme master Xie Huaizhou, things were entirely different.
Under the warm, dim glow of the candlelight, Xie Huaizhou’s slender and fair fingers gently, slowly toyed with the golden bell gifted to him by Shen Yanchu.
His knuckles were as distinct as if meticulously carved, every joint protruding just right, interlocking and echoing the brilliant metallic luster of the bell. Together, they reflected a mesmerizing, breathtaking scene beyond the power of words to describe.
By now, the night had grown deep and ink-black, absolute silence reigning supreme save for the crisp, melodious ringing of the bell, which drifted and lingered gently in the tranquil air like a nightingale’s song.
In a trance, Xie Huaizhou drifted into a hazy dream. In the dream, he caught sight of Shen Yanchu’s figure. Clad in a layer of soft, translucent white robes whose thin fabric resembled a wisp of light mist, his lower contours were vaguely and alluringly concealed beneath.
Especially the golden bell tied around his ankle, which gleamed with enchanting, mesmerizing specks of light under the gentle halo cast by a night-pearl. With every light, graceful step he took, the bell emitted a crisp, pleasant chime like celestial music, causing the strings of one’s heart to vibrate gently in unison.
“Xie Huaizhou…” Suddenly, a low murmur rang out, originating precisely from Shen Yanchu’s lips. His voice carried the most soul-stirring temptation in this boundless night, laced with a trace of indescribable endurance.
Enticed by this illusory, dreamlike vision, Xie Huaizhou seemed to lose his independent will, stepping uncontrollably closer and closer to Shen Yanchu.
When he reached him, he realized the other’s appearance differed vastly from ordinary days. The neat topknot of hair was now somewhat disheveled, several slender strands spilling wantonly across a forehead damp with sweat, while a mouth-watering flush of red stained his cheeks alongside beads of fine perspiration continuously seeping from his brow.
“Shen Yanchu!” Xie Huaizhou’s voice was low and hoarse, as though soaked in the deep night. His tone carried an uneven pant, every single word squeezed from deep within his chest, laden with a magnetic charm capable of intoxicating the soul.
Upon hearing this call, Shen Yanchu hesitated not a moment before reaching out to wrap his arms softly around Xie Huaizhou’s neck. Seizing the permission as though granted by fate, Xie Huaizhou planted his hands on the mattress, his tall frame leaning slightly forward to instantly envelop Shen Yanchu entirely beneath his broad shadow.
The distance between them was so close that they could clearly feel each other’s warm breath brushing against their skin, alongside a powerful heartbeat thumping like a drumbeat against the ear.
Shen Yanchu slowly, cautiously inched closer to Xie Huaizhou, their faces coming within a hair’s breadth of pressing together. At that very critical juncture, the bed curtains hanging at the bedside suddenly drifted down silently like a thin veil, gently veiling their figures from view.
Within this tiny, secluded space, the world seemed to shrink instantly to the existence of just the two of them, isolating all noise and disturbance outside. Aside from the faint, phantom chiming of the bell, no other sound remained.
Yet, right at the peak of this deeply ambiguous moment, Xie Huaizhou jolted awake from his dream. He snapped his eyes open, panting heavily as his heart hammered against his ribs like a rapidly struck drum, deafeningly loud.
Simultaneously, Shen Yanchu bolted upright from his sleep in the neighboring room, unable to hold back a crude outburst: “Crap! Why on earth did I dream of something like that?”
Neither of them knew that at this very moment, their rooms were separated by nothing more than a single wall. Had they quieted their minds to listen closely, they might have caught the sound of each other’s slightly ragged breathing. Perhaps then, they would have realized with a start that the ambiguous feelings and heart-fluttering tension lingering in their chests existed far beyond the realm of illusory dreams.