When the sparring matches finally ended and the disciples scattered in small groups, Qu Xiangxiang and Mu Hanzhang were stopped by Elder Bai Shu.
Bai Shu raised a wrinkled finger, his small eyes fixed on them. “Young ones… skipping class for a whole day and night.”
“Elder…” Qu Xiangxiang felt a pang of guilt. In her previous life, she had never skipped class.
Bai Shu narrowed his eyes, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “Tomorrow, you’ll go to the Gujin Pavilion and organize all the books. It hasn’t been cleaned in some time.”
“But…” Qu Xiangxiang furrowed her brows, indignant. “Elder, skipping class was our fault, but earlier Yun Qingqing…” She adjusted her tone. “I just don’t understand. We skip class and are punished, yet Yun Qingqing drew her sword in the cultivation hall and nearly tried to kill a fellow disciple, and she wasn’t punished properly.”
Bai Shu stroked his beard and sighed. “Rules are rules. Yun Qingqing may have drawn her sword, but she didn’t injure anyone. And according to her record of conduct, she hasn’t committed serious offenses before. So the punishment was light.”
“But—”
Bai Shu waved his hand, unwilling to argue further. “Qu Xiangxiang, you performed well today. If you truly want Yun Qingqing punished, then three months from now, at the Ling Mountain Tournament, that will be your best chance.”
“Ling Mountain Tournament?”
“This year, Cangxuan Mountain has only three spots.” Bai Shu rose slowly, winked at Qu Xiangxiang, and said, “Alright, off you go.” With a flick of his sleeve, he vanished.
Qu Xiangxiang muttered angrily, “I don’t want to go to any Ling Mountain Tournament.”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to teach Yun Qingqing a lesson?” Mu Hanzhang’s voice came suddenly from beside her.
“But what does that have to do with the tournament?” Qu Xiangxiang asked, puzzled.
Mu Hanzhang chuckled softly. “Today’s sparring was just a little scuffle, meant to stop short of harm. But the Ling Mountain Tournament is different.”
“How so?”
Mu Hanzhang gazed into her eyes, his voice low and chilling. “At the Ling Mountain Tournament, life and death are not counted.”
Qu Xiangxiang: “…”
Thanks for the invitation—now she wanted to go even less. Two lifetimes lived, and she hadn’t killed a single person. Not even a chicken.
“Afraid?” Her stiff expression seemed to amuse Mu Hanzhang.
“You’re overthinking it,” Qu Xiangxiang said. “There are only three spots. No way I’ll be chosen.”
Mu Hanzhang nodded. “At least you know yourself well.”
Qu Xiangxiang: “…Thanks for the compliment.”
Mu Hanzhang: “…That wasn’t a compliment.”
…
The next morning, Qu Xiangxiang pushed open the heavy doors of the Gujin Pavilion and was stunned by the vast sea of books before her.
The space had clearly been expanded with enchantments—rows upon rows of wooden shelves stretched endlessly into the distance.
Qu Xiangxiang: “…”
This was worse than confinement.
She trudged inside, picked up a book at random, and flipped it open.
Huh? Her eyes widened. She snapped the book shut and read the title—The Charming Widow of Wind and Moon.
Qu Xiangxiang: “…”
Why did they even have books like this? Are cultivators in this world really this open-minded?
Qu Xiangxiang felt she ought to reevaluate this entire cultivation world. She nodded solemnly, then—with an expression that was supposed to be scholarly but looked far more like shy excitement—flipped open The Charming Widow of Wind and Moon.
Wow. She clapped a hand over her mouth in exaggerated shock. Who would have thought the cultivation world played so wild? Wait—an invisibility spell could be used *like that*? And binding spells… oh heavens, that was downright perverse.
Her cheeks flushed red. She suddenly remembered she’d forgotten something important. What was it again? Never mind. If she couldn’t recall, it probably wasn’t important.
When Mu Hanzhang pushed open the doors of the Gujin Pavilion, the first thing he heard was a strange, muffled laugh.
Mu Hanzhang: “…”
Was organizing the library really this entertaining for Qu Xiangxiang?
Following the sound, he found her sitting cross-legged on the floor, cheeks pink, eyes shining, clutching a book and flipping through it at lightning speed—occasionally letting out bizarre giggles.
“What are you reading?” Mu Hanzhang asked.
Startled, Qu Xiangxiang snapped her head up and instinctively hid the book behind her back. Oh no. She had completely forgotten Mu Hanzhang would be here today!
If he found out what she was reading, her image in his eyes would collapse—from “a vicious good-for-nothing” to “a vicious, lecherous good-for-nothing.” Another unbearable humiliation added to the list.
“You… you…” Her face blazing red, she stammered for ages before blurting out, “Why do you walk without making a sound?!”
Her overreaction made Mu Hanzhang frown. Such a guilty response could only mean one thing—she was definitely up to no good. His expression darkened. “What are you reading?”
“Nothing, just… just some random book.” She gripped it tightly, terrified he might snatch it away.
“Then why hide it?”
Her eyes darted nervously. “Th-this has nothing to do with you.”
Given her history of reckless behavior, Mu Hanzhang’s phoenix eyes narrowed. His voice dropped low. “Qu Xiangxiang, I don’t trust you. Do you remember that silencing spell?”
Qu Xiangxiang: “…”
That was a blatant threat! Heaven help her—she’d only been curious about a risqué cultivation novel, and now Mu Hanzhang was threatening her over it? Was there no justice left in this world?
Puffing her cheeks, she snapped, “Are you sure you want to see it?”
Mu Hanzhang extended his hand. “Give it to me.”
“Fine, fine!” She tossed the book at him, turned away, and covered her face in despair. “But you asked for it.”
Mu Hanzhang glanced down gravely. The moment he saw the title, his eyes squeezed shut as if he’d touched filth. He hurled the book back onto the shelf and barked, “Qu Xiangxiang!”
At that moment, Qu Xiangxiang wanted to die. Caught reading *The Charming Widow of Wind and Moon* by Mu Hanzhang—was there anything more absurd, more mortifying in the world? If so, please let her know, so her collapsing psyche could at least feel balanced.
“You—you were the one who insisted on looking,” she muttered weakly.
A faint blush crept across Mu Hanzhang’s face. “I didn’t want to read *that*.”
Qu Xiangxiang peeked through her fingers. His pale face was tinged with red, his lips pressed tight, his gaze evasive—he looked even more embarrassed than she was.
It was the first time she’d seen Mu Hanzhang like this. The shy expression animated his usually emotionless face, making it unexpectedly vivid… and, well…
Qu Xiangxiang’s heart itched. “Mu Hanzhang,” she tilted her head, overcome by untimely infatuation, whispering softly, “you look really good like this.”
Mu Hanzhang, whose hearing was excellent: “…”
He thought he ought to draw his sword. But in reality, his face only grew redder.