Yan Zhu realized what a foolish decision she had made only after regaining consciousness for the second time.
Previously, as someone involved in the situation, she was blinded by her single-minded desire to go back and save Song Qing, completely forgetting that she was currently inside someone else’s dream. In reality, all she needed to do was ask Tongmu to end it, and “little Song Qing” would naturally be out of danger… Why put herself through all this trouble?
Moreover, she had even managed to half-truthfully deceive the honest Tongmu earlier…
Yan Zhu could not help but massage her forehead and sigh, cursing her own stupidity.
However, since she had already arrived, she might as well accept the situation and make the best of it, especially since the current reality could no longer be altered.
Just as Yan Zhu was struggling to adjust her mindset, that group of people slowly walked over to the edge of the spirit field.
“How is it that an exalted direct disciple came to take on the chores meant for us menial disciples? Could it be that she wants to temper and steel herself?”
One of the women said this, covering her mouth as she let out a cascade of laughter.
“You really should stop laughing. The flowers and plants in this spirit field are extremely precious. If she happens to mess things up, responsibility might fall on our heads…” Her companion held a different view, wearing a worried expression.
“Surely it wouldn’t come to that? Our Senior Brother is, after all, a fair and impartial person; there is no reason for him to make us take the blame…” Someone else offered her own perspective.
Thinking that this statement greatly comforted them, the worry on their faces instantly vanished, and they all broke into smiles.
“That’s right, our Senior Brother is a true gentleman…”
“Senior Brother handles matters with extreme fairness, and his demeanor is exceedingly gentle!”
“Speaking of which, I happened to run into Senior Brother last time when he was in charge of organizing the disciples to descend the mountain…”
The group chatted amongst themselves while scattering to tend to the flowers and plants in the field. Throughout the process, the sounds of joyful laughter filled the air.
As Yan Zhu listened from the side, her biggest takeaway was that the Senior Brother they spoke of was remarkably similar to Mo Nanyi, the third male lead she had written in her novel.
He was likewise a Senior Brother deeply recognized by the disciples within the sect, likewise a gentle and cultivated gentleman, and likewise impartial in his handling of affairs, distributing rewards and punishments with absolute clarity… She wondered if all Senior Brothers across the world were cut from the same cloth.
As someone whose romantic experience was entirely zero, Yan Zhu was notoriously poor at writing romantic subplots.
When shaping the important male characters who shared a romantic line with the female lead, she had taken a shortcut and adopted the most popular templates on the market—the first male lead was overbearing and powerful, the second was roguish and romantic, and the third was gentle and righteous…
Although readers loved the pairing of the first male lead and the female lead the most, Yan Zhu, as the author, liked Mo Nanyi the third male lead the best. Her criteria for judgment were very simple: his character logic dictated that he would be the one among the three who sacrificed the most for the female lead and treated her the best.
“Mo Nanyi has always been impartial, except when it comes to matters concerning Junior Sister Song Wenqing; there he holds a private bias, and he cannot help but show favoritism.”
When writing her novel, Yan Zhu felt she had the mindset of an aging mother—whoever treated her precious daughter Song Wenqing well, she would naturally feel favorably toward them.
After the group finished the tasks assigned for the day in the field, they once again banded together and left. They did not stay for long, but they left behind quite a bit of chatter. Aside from complaining about the “exalted direct disciple” and praising the “Senior Brother,” everything else consisted of mundane daily matters with no useful information.
Yan Zhu originally wanted to follow this group when they left, but she failed to take a step. Looking down, she noticed that the overly flamboyant flower from earlier had somehow detached itself from the field and was clinging desperately to the top of her foot.
If it were just a single stalk, it wouldn’t have been so remarkable, but the actual situation was that various flowers and plants surrounded the circle around her feet, and some even had roots and soil that hadn’t been shaken clean.
Looking up again, the field contained only a small portion of flowers and plants alongside a multitude of small dirt pits. Those spirit flowers and herbs either obediently stayed in place, tried their best to prop themselves up with branches and leaves in an attempt to pull themselves out, or desperately struggled to crawl toward her… The myriad states of plants were varied and numerous.
Yan Zhu stared blankly with wide eyes, and before she could figure out what was happening, she was suddenly startled by a voice coming from the side.
“What are you doing?!”
A young girl dressed in moon-white robes, tall and slender in figure, with an appearance resembling Song Qing, stood not far away and asked in a cold voice.
She had already drawn her sword from the scabbard tied at her waist. Under the sunlight, the tip of the sword directly facing Yan Zhu emitted a dazzling, cold light.
A sudden wind picked up, blowing across the sharp blade and dividing it into two halves.
A murderous aura began to permeate this space, shaking loose an ugly “radish” that was wrapping its leaves around Yan Zhu’s leg and climbing up her body.
It dropped to the ground with a “clatter,” then rolled a few more times, coating its surface in a layer of dust and making it look even uglier.
However, this fellow did not give up. After struggling for a moment to get back up, it once again marched in the direction of Yan Zhu, as if there was something exceptionally attractive to it in that spot.
Song Wenqing did not know what kind of problem had affected her eyes when she woke up overnight, as her vision was currently somewhat unclear, yet she could still roughly make out the behavior of the Mo Ling ginseng from just moments ago.
Perhaps things were not as she had originally thought, but rather that the spirit flowers and herbs were deliberately approaching this person?
Unprovoked, a thought popped into her mind.
Song Wenqing was somewhat dazed, unable to help narrowing her eyes slightly as she tried her utmost to see that unidentified woman in the distance more clearly.
Yan Zhu gazed at the girl opposite her, who was no more than eleven or twelve years old.
This was a slightly older Song Qing.
She had grown much taller than when she was six, but she was still very thin, and the wrist bones on the hands holding the sword were exceptionally prominent. Fortunately, the baby fat on her face had not yet faded, otherwise, it would have made her naturally sharp chin look frighteningly lean.
Having baby fat was a good thing; it made her cheeks slightly plump, adding a touch of childish innocence that suited her current age and was rather cute.
Her beautiful amber-colored eyes had somehow turned black, carrying a greater sense of gloom than before when she looked at people.
Yet she was still cute.
Yan Zhu seemed to be able to catch glimpses of a six- or seven-year-old child within this eleven- or twelve-year-old girl standing here, so facing those eyes filled with vigilance and coldness, she felt no anger within her heart, but instead smiled secretly to herself.
It was merely a small kitten pretending to be fierce.
What about the sword she held in her hand?
Just a young kitten extending claws intended to frighten others.
Because of this, although pointed directly by the sword tip, Yan Zhu felt not the slightest panic in the face of this situation, as she possessed a thick filter capable of turning anyone into a mosaic.
So much so that she even had the leisure to look down at the situation on the top of her foot, unexpectedly catching a hardworking climbing ugly “radish” on her calf, pinching its emerald-green leaves, and returning it to the ground.
However, she had been “touched up.”
The “radish” waved its leaves in an attempt to rub against her fingers, while other spirit flowers and herbs frantically rushed over to press against her hands.
Yan Zhu froze; she felt that the plants in this field were somewhat improper.
Song Wenqing, on the other hand, confirmed her previous thought. Although it was hard to believe, the spirit flowers and herbs were indeed striving to approach this person.
“Who are you?”
Song Wenqing withdrew her sword, the blade sliding back into its scabbard with a crisp, clear chime.
As she stepped forward, she simultaneously formed hand seals with both hands, casting a spell to transfer the scattered spirit flowers and herbs back into the field, and added a restriction around the perimeter to prevent them from running away again.
“Are you… of the Seven Apertures Exquisite Heart constitution?”
This was the explanation Song Wenqing thought of as most likely at present, though it was equally incredible, given that this constitution was even harder to encounter than her own Eye of Disillusionment.
Before Yan Zhu had time to answer, a voice cut in ahead of her.
“Hey, Senior Brother asked me to give this to you!”
It was one of the members from the previous group. At this moment, this person was standing at the other end of the spirit field. She expressionlessly shook a booklet with a blue cover in her hand, her tone of voice containing obvious impatience.
Logically speaking, as a menial disciple within the rigidly hierarchical Linyun Dao Sect, she ought to show more respect toward Song Wenqing, who held the status of a direct disciple of Immortal Heguang. However, the cultivation world was likewise a place where strength reigned supreme.
First, a little yellow-haired girl of humble origins who appeared from nowhere had become the closed-door disciple of Immortal Heguang, snatching away opportunities belonging to countless proud children of noble families.
One could say that the moment Song Wenqing was accepted as a closed-door disciple by Immortal Heguang, she had incurred the resentment of quite a few people.
Had she not been a closed-door disciple, but merely a regular direct disciple, things would not have reached this extent.
People originally thought she possessed some extraordinary traits, only to discover that despite having access to resource conditions superior to most others, her cultivation progress over her years in the sect was so slow that even outer-sect disciples surpassed her. This was the second point.
After all, no matter one’s status or position in the cultivation world, what commanded the most respect remained strength, making weakness the original sin.
The third point was that Song Wenqing’s temperament was either too gentle or excessively dull; even when ridiculed by others openly or behind her back, she made no reaction whatsoever.
As time passed, even the menial disciples held no sense of reverence toward her. In the mouths of certain individuals, Song Wenqing was the greatest joke among the direct disciples of Tiankui Peak and even the entire Linyun Dao Sect.
The young girl shook the book in her hand until it rustled loudly, yet seeing that Song Wenqing still did not come to take it, annoyance was written plainly across her face.
“Then I’ll just leave it here; you can come and get it yourself later!”
After speaking, she originally intended to throw the item directly onto the ground, but ultimately fearing potential consequences, she crouched down slightly to place the booklet lightly on the ground before turning to leave.
The blurred figure of Song Wenqing grew smaller in her field of vision, and she temporarily ignored the items sent by this disciple, shifting her gaze back to Yan Zhu instead.
She could not see this person’s appearance, knowing only that the clothing worn by this individual was not the disciple attire of the Linyun Dao Sect.
Because she had happened to witness the scene where half of the spirit flowers and herbs in the empty spirit field had gathered around this person, Song Wenqing had mistaken Yan Zhu for a thief.
This had led to her subsequent action of drawing her sword and adopting an aggressive posture.
Of course, upon realizing her own misjudgment, she had put the sword away again.
Song Wenqing’s brows furrowed slightly. What baffled her at this moment was the identity of the person before her.
The disciple who had previously been responsible for tending the spirit field approached as if unable to see this person at all, showing not the slightest reaction to her presence.
“Are you also a disciple who came to tend the spirit field?”
Song Wenqing asked, still harboring some doubts in her heart. She remembered that everything her senior brother had said pointed toward giving her the experience of tempering herself alone.
Yet arranging for someone to help her was indeed a move that the gentle Senior Brother would make.
“I came to take care of you.”
Yan Zhu managed to swallow back the words that had almost slipped out.
After spending two whole days in close company with little Song Qing, facing this half-grown girl who bore an extremely similar appearance to the child in her memory, she still instinctively wanted to take care of and protect her.
Although she desperately wanted to reveal her true intentions, reason reminded Yan Zhu that it was best not to deny it.
An explanation that a person arrived at by themselves was the one they identified with most, even subconsciously seeking to verify its correctness repeatedly and striving to defend it.
Yan Zhu restrained the impulse to shake her head and say no, ultimately saying nothing and doing nothing.
She merely stood there, tilting her head with a smile as she watched the girl before her whose height was about to catch up to her own, feeling the joy of watching a younger sister grow up.
“My name is Yan Zhu.”
I want to know what your regret is this time, Song Qing.