“Qu Xiangxiang!” If Qu Weiran’s fury could take physical form, she thought she’d already be reduced to ashes. “Speak!”
Qu Xiangxiang’s head throbbed. That damned silencing spell Mu Hanzhang had cast made her terrified of saying the wrong thing.
“Brother,” she said weakly, “we… we didn’t do anything.”
Arms crossed, Qu Weiran’s face was dark as iron, his expression practically screaming: *Do you take me for a fool?*
Cornered, Qu Xiangxiang forced herself to improvise. “We… we just wandered around. He took me down the mountain to watch a few plays at the Eight-Cat Troupe, then… then we found an inn, had a meal, slept a bit, and came back.”
“Slept?!” Qu Weiran’s voice shot up, nearly choking on his own rage. “That brat is courting death!”
Seeing him roll up his sleeves, ready to storm off and fight Mu Hanzhang, Qu Xiangxiang quickly grabbed him.
“No, no, no!” Her face flushed crimson as she waved her hands frantically. “Separate! Separate! We didn’t sleep together!”
“Qu Xiangxiang, do you think I’m easy to fool?” He glared at her.
“How would I dare lie to you?” she muttered, eyes darting nervously. Half-truth, half-lie, she added, “I… I just think he’s actually… not so bad. I treated him too harshly before. This time in the back mountain, he helped me a lot, so I wanted to thank him.” She raised three fingers solemnly. “It’s true! I swear!”
Qu Weiran paced the courtyard, agitated. “Even so, you can’t skip class for a whole day to play around! You’re a girl—you need restraint, restraint, do you understand? A pure young lady disappearing with a man for a day and a night—what happens to your reputation if word gets out? Do you want to drive our father to his grave?”
“I was wrong.” Qu Xiangxiang admitted fault with her usual speed. “I’m sorry. I won’t dare again.”
Qu Weiran raked his hands through his hair, face twisted with conflict. “If Father hadn’t summoned me back, I’d stay here and discipline you properly.”
And keep an eye on that Mu brat.
That last line was the real point. Qu Xiangxiang’s eyes lit up. “Father asked you to return?”
It wasn’t that she didn’t want him around—on the contrary, she knew he truly cared for her, and his presence made her feel safe. But he was too sharp, too perceptive. She feared he’d catch her slip or force her into saying something she couldn’t afford.
Qu Weiran snorted. “You sound awfully pleased.”
“Of course not!” She plastered on a fawning smile. “I’m just worried Father might be anxious to see you.”
“Qu Xiangxiang, I’m warning you.” His voice carried a weary edge, tinged with the helplessness of an elder brother watching his sister grow beyond his control. “If you dare mess around with that Mu boy again, I’ll have Father discipline you himself.”
Qu Xiangxiang lowered her head, toes scuffing the ground. “What do you mean by ‘mess around’? Brother, that’s too harsh. Who talks about their own sister like that?”
“Don’t change the subject!”
“Alright, alright, I get it.” She answered sheepishly. “When are you leaving?”
Qu Weiran’s heart clenched at the sight of this ungrateful little sister. “Three days!” he snapped.
“And one more thing.” He calmed himself, then added, “You nearly lost your life gathering Soul-Losing Grass. Elder Bai Shu said to encourage the mountain disciples, so he gave you a reward. Lin Zheng delivered it—it’s on the table in your room.” He paused. “It’s a good item.”
A reward? Qu Xiangxiang brightened instantly. She remembered that in the original novel, Mu Hanzhang had received a Nine-Turn Golden Pill, able to cure all poisons. But because his demonic aura had already awakened and his body possessed powerful self-healing, it hadn’t been of much use to him. For her, though, with her weak spiritual roots and pitiful cultivation, having an extra golden pill for protection was no small blessing.
For someone like her, with weak spiritual roots and basically a useless talent, having a few extra golden pills for protection was never a bad thing.
“Foolish girl,” Qu Weiran tapped her lightly on the forehead. “Soul-Losing Grass—our family’s storerooms are full of it. Was it really worth risking half your life for something so cheap?”
His words weren’t pleasant, but the pride hidden in his tone was unmistakable.
Qu Xiangxiang knew he was secretly pleased, so she didn’t expose him.
“If Soul-Losing Grass isn’t worth much, then what about a Nine-Turn Golden Pill?” she asked curiously.
Right—she had almost forgotten her family specialized in this sort of thing. She only remembered when it came time to spend money.
“That’s rare, yes, but not impossible to find,” Qu Weiran replied. “Why? Do you want one? Refining it takes time. Our last batch has already been delivered, and the next won’t be ready until next summer.”
“No, no, no—wasn’t Elder Bai Shu’s reward a Nine-Turn Golden Pill?”
“Of course not.” Qu Weiran gave a mysterious smile. “Go back and see for yourself.”
Qu Xiangxiang pulled a face at him, then dashed back to her room eagerly. But the moment she stepped inside, she froze. Who could explain why there was a book on her table that looked heavy enough to kill someone if it fell?
Expression blank, she walked closer and read the title—*Compendium of Alchemical Herbs in the Cultivation World – Special Collector’s Edition.*
Qu Xiangxiang: “…”
Useful, sure. But with its terrifying thickness, she seriously doubted she could finish it before she died. Never in her life had she seen a book this thick.
“Most of the pills recorded in that book, our family can already refine,” Qu Weiran said, leaning against the doorframe. “But some of them I’ve never even heard of—quite interesting. If you could settle down and read it a few times, instead of wasting your thoughts on that half-demon boy, your alchemy class wouldn’t rank dead last.” He shot her a sideways glance. “When your grade slip was delivered home, Father nearly fainted at the door.”
“Read it a few times?!” Qu Xiangxiang cried out.
With a book that thick, finishing it even once before her death would already count as diligence. Of course, that assumed she actually lived long enough to die of old age—which, at the moment, seemed unlikely.
“Anyway, I advise you to finish it seriously,” Qu Weiran added with a smile that looked anything but kind. “Father already said—if your alchemy class ranks last again, don’t expect the family to give you any more spirit stones.”
Qu Xiangxiang: “…”
What kind of rich kid still gets their allowance docked? Was that even fair? And why was it that even after transmigrating into a cultivation world, she still couldn’t escape exams? Was it really her fault that she was pretty, wealthy, and just wanted to be a salted fish?