Upon Wu Ping’an’s return home, Dai’er hurriedly opened the door. Seeing that she was unharmed, Dai’er gestured vigorously with both hands, tears welling up in her eyes.
Wu Ping’an quickly rolled up her sleeves to wipe Dai’er’s tearful eyes, comforting her, “It’s alright, don’t cry.”
Dai’er pouted, wiped her eyes, and continued gesturing, asking if those people would take her away again.
Wu Ping’an turned to close the door and told her, “They probably won’t.”
Now that the man-eating monster beast had been found, and Ji Cizhao hadn’t stopped her, this matter was completely unrelated to her from now on.
Hearing that it wouldn’t happen again, Dai’er happily took her hand and pulled her inside.
Only after following her in did Wu Ping’an notice a small nest made of old clothes in the main room, with a white puppy sleeping inside.
Dai’er gestured to her.
This puppy was one Dai’er had encountered on the road the day Wu Ping’an was taken away, when Dai’er had gone out searching for her. Later, while heading to Ji Manor, Dai’er happened to meet someone sent by Ji Yuwei and learned that Wu Ping’an was safe. On the way back, seeing the pitiful puppy, she picked it up.
Dai’er said she wanted to keep the dog and cautiously asked if it was okay.
“Of course it is.” Wu Ping’an crouched in front of the puppy.
The puppy had already opened its eyes and woken up.
Wu Ping’an noticed the puppy had blood-red eyes and thought it might be sick, but then the puppy quickly rolled over its short body, gently nibbling at her dangling sleeve, its upright tail wagging happily.
It was the first time she had seen a dog with red eyes. Wu Ping’an thought of the monster beasts in this place that closely resembled animals, but she wasn’t worried. As far as she knew, untamed monster beasts, regardless of age, had an innate aggression toward humans, but this puppy was very affectionate.
The puppy’s eyes were likely natural.
After dinner, Dai’er, who had been frightened for several days, went to bed early.
By the time Wu Ping’an finished bathing, it was already dark outside.
The moon was full in early summer, but she didn’t dare stay alone in the courtyard, afraid she might encounter a Shadow Ghost again. She returned to her room and lay on the bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
She was thinking about Ji Yuwei.
It was strange—ever since meeting Ji Yuwei, everything felt like a dream. Ji Yuwei was different from what she had known, and… she was actually in a relationship with Ji Yuwei.
Wu Ping’an sighed softly, stopped thinking about it, turned over, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
The next morning.
Wu Ping’an was awakened by the puppy’s barking.
She threw on a long robe, slipped into wooden clogs, and went out. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Ji Yuwei’s servant standing outside.
Previously, Ji Yuwei had someone wait for her at the blacksmith shop where she worked every day, then take her to Ji Manor. This servant was the one she had seen the most often, and he was also the steward who had kidnapped her back then, so Wu Ping’an remembered his name—Zhou Wu.
Zhou Wu smiled and said the carriage was ready.
Wu Ping’an was surprised to hear this. After what happened yesterday, when she left, he hadn’t even gotten up to see her off. She thought the young man was too embarrassed and would need some time before wanting to see her again. She hadn’t expected that, after just one night, he would send someone to fetch her at dawn.
Wu Ping’an had originally planned to work at the blacksmith shop, but since she had been taken away by Ji Cizhao on the spot, and the shopkeeper had come out to identify her, even if she didn’t mind or overthink it, the shopkeeper wouldn’t want her back. So, she hadn’t planned to go today anyway—this was useful.
“Wait a moment, I just woke up. Let me freshen up, then I’ll go with you.”
Zhou Wu stopped her: “Madam, the young master has given instructions. Bathing supplies have been prepared for you at the residence. Please board the carriage.”
“What is so urgent?”
Wu Ping’an hadn’t expected Ji Yuwei to have even arranged for her bathing. Thinking something had happened, she informed Dai’er and followed Zhou Wu.
On the way, Zhou Wu finally told her that Ji Yuwei was fine—he had simply wanted to see her upon waking.
Zhou Wu spoke with restraint, not directly stating that the young master had woken in the middle of the night and sat stubbornly until nearly dawn before ordering someone to fetch Wu Ping’an.
Hearing this, Wu Ping’an lowered her head, straightened the robe she was wearing, touched her face, and her expression fell.
Upon entering the residence, servants led her to the bathhouse to wash, scrub with flower-scented soap, cleanse her face, and change clothes. They even applied a fair amount of rouge and powder to her face. Once she was thoroughly clean from inside out, she put on new clothes and followed the guiding servant—not to Apricot Grove, but to the courtyard where she had previously stayed.
As Wu Ping’an stepped inside, she saw the youth in sheer white silk robes sitting quietly beneath a tree. His snow-white skin was enveloped in a thin, cool, soft glow from the golden light filtering through the emerald-green canopy.
Ji Yuwei turned his head to look at her, his eyelids lifting slightly, a gentle warmth spreading across his jade-porcelain face: “It truly suits Ping’an.”
It was as if only today did he find her somewhat satisfactory.
Wu Ping’an lifted the hem of the very well-fitting skirt, then let it drop, stating honestly: “It fits perfectly.”
She didn’t like skirts that were too long; this one, which didn’t cover her feet, was just right.
Ji Yuwei stood up and walked to her, lowering his dark eyes to gaze steadily at her: “Ping’an, would you like to learn spellcraft?”
Wu Ping’an was taken aback.
She remembered that spellcraft was something only nobles could learn. Each clan had its own set of spellcraft, and ordinary commoners were unable to learn it. Even if they had the chance, there was no one to teach them, which over time led to its monopolization and the emergence of top-tier nobility.
When she first arrived in this world, she had considered learning it, but after searching everywhere without finding an opportunity, she reluctantly gave up. After meeting Ji Yuwei, she glimpsed another side of this dynasty, experiencing pursuits by monster beasts and Shadow Ghosts roaming at night. For a time, she had thought about it again, but still, there was no one to teach her.
Now, Ji Yuwei had suddenly placed this long-cherished desire before her. To her, it was no different from a pie falling from the sky.
But she also had concerns and hesitantly asked him: “Can I learn it?”
Ji Yuwei smiled, the vermilion mark between his eyebrows vivid. “If Wei wishes to teach, of course you can.”
His words were calm, but Wu Ping’an detected a hint of youthful willfulness in them—a carefree attitude that wasn’t unpleasant.
Since he could assure her it was possible, Wu Ping’an naturally wouldn’t let such a good opportunity slip. She hurriedly nodded in agreement: “I want to learn.”
She truly wanted to learn so badly. In the past, she regretted not having the ability to protect those important to her. Now, she wanted to protect important people and gain a means of self-defense in this dynasty where low-level monsters and ghosts ran rampant.
Moreover, once she learned spellcraft, even without mastering it deeply, she could secure a well-paying job. Even if she parted ways with Ji Yuwei in the future, she would be able to defend herself against monsters and ghosts.
Wu Ping’an’s eyes shone brightly, her face filled with eager anticipation.
Ji Yuwei’s smiling gaze swept over her face, now barely presentable with the applied rouge, then he turned and asked her to follow him.
Wu Ping’an followed.
Along the way, Ji Yuwei began explaining to her the origins of spellcraft, gradually revealing that the Ji Clan’s spellcraft was the strongest of the current era. Unlike others who had to use fu talismans as mediums to store spellcraft, those with high talent could form energy at will, slaying monster beasts and Shadow Ghosts with their bare hands.
His voice was low and gentle, well-suited for storytelling, adept at using a calm and natural tone to say things that made Wu Ping’an’s blood surge with excitement.
Wu Ping’an feared she might also be one of those with high talent. With a fervent heart, she asked expectantly, “How is talent considered high?”
Unexpectedly, Ji Yuwei glanced at the enthusiasm on her face, thought for a moment, and gave an exact number: “Not many. Since ancient times, there have only been three.”
“Just three?” Wu Ping’an calculated and immediately looked crestfallen.
He wasn’t talking about since Dongli, but since ancient times—the ancients’ ancient times. How many years must that be?
Fortunately, Ji Yuwei soon comforted her: “Talent is merely heaven-sent, but with effort, one may still catch up to that one in ten million.”
Wu Ping’an thought so too. She had no talent for studying—it was all rote memorization—but with hard work, she still became the obedient child in the eyes of her teachers and parents. Surely spellcraft couldn’t defeat someone diligent and driven.
Thinking this, she felt comforted and dared to ask, “What about you?”
She remembered Ji Yuwei had exceptional talent. She wanted to see him as her goal, to have the strength to strive upward.
Ji Yuwei pondered and replied modestly, “Wei happens to be among the three.”
How unfortunate—the goal she now saw as her struggle was actually the ceiling.
Wu Ping’an’s face fell again, feeling the urge to fight these geniuses.
Ji Yuwei comforted her: “Learning is not about plucking the flowers but uprooting them. As long as Ping’an does her best, she will already surpass many in this world.”
Wu Ping’an thought it made sense and stopped feeling disheartened. Instead, she grew more confident than before.
Soon, the two arrived at their destination.
It was Apricot Grove.
On the way, Wu Ping’an thought that since they were coming to Apricot Grove anyway, they could have just brought her here directly. Then, a stack of yellow fu talismans was placed in her arms.
It was so heavy she leaned forward slightly, barely straightening up, only to see the red-cinnabar-marked youth with flowing sleeves, smiling like a Guanyin in a shrine, uttering gentle yet icy words: “Today, Ping’an must succeed in making one fly before these talismans are used up.”
Wu Ping’an looked down and roughly estimated with her eyes.
Great—there were about a thousand.
“Can you do it?” The youth lazily crossed his long legs on the rattan chair, his noble bearing innate.
Wu Ping’an raised her face with fighting spirit: “I can.”
Ji Yuwei smiled, then casually pulled out a fu talisman from beside him. Without even looking, his jade-like long fingers formed a seal formation effortlessly. With a wave, a distant apricot tree fell, roots and all. Then he asked her, “Did you remember?”
Wu Ping’an stared blankly at the distant tree, not yet realizing the situation was gradually becoming serious. Coming to her senses, she shook her head vigorously: “I didn’t remember.”
Ji Yuwei repeated the motion.
Another apricot tree fell.
He asked, “Remember now?”
Wu Ping’an hesitated and shook her head.
Ji Yuwei took another talisman.
An apricot tree fell, and he asked again.
Wu Ping’an nearly cried, shaking her head while comforting herself that he was too fast—maybe if he slowed down, she could remember.
Ji Yuwei slowed his movements, his slender fingers weaving the seal like a flower, passing before her eyes in a flash.
This time, Wu Ping’an remembered. She quickly took out a talisman and mimicked his seal formation posture, then swiftly waved it to the side.
The talisman, clamped between her fingers, swayed limply in the east wind.
Ji Yuwei glanced at her fingers and comforted her: “It’s just the beginning. Take it slow, Ping’an.”
Wu Ping’an didn’t lose heart and tried again.
But after using several talismans in a row, the result was the same.
She didn’t know if others learned spellcraft the same way she did, but from Ji Yuwei’s gradually furrowed brow, she could tell he seemed to think something was wrong.
Could it be that others all used fu talismans to form shapes? Was she a fool?
Wu Ping’an quickly pulled out a new fu talisman and continued, trying several more times in succession.
As the hour grew late and the talismans dwindled, Ji Yuwei stopped speaking and no longer concealed his scrutiny, simply watching her continuously gesturing hands.
Wu Ping’an’s seal formation postures were flawless, even growing more proficient with each attempt, yet she simply could not condense breath into the talisman.
Ji Yuwei watched calmly until only a thin few talismans remained in her embrace, then finally spoke: “Let’s end practice for today.”
Wu Ping’an’s arms were sore from waving, trembling even after she lowered them.
Ji Yuwei stood up before her, watching as she massaged her arms, and softly asked: “Ping’an, have you never studied any spellcraft?”
Wu Ping’an swung her arms, replying: “I haven’t studied any.”
He pondered thoughtfully: “Then how do people from your homeland open chests and abdomens yet keep them alive, or fly into the clouds, or run a thousand miles?”
Wu Ping’an said: “That’s medical technology combined with electronic devices, generally all called: science. We don’t need to learn spellcraft.”
She even joked: “After our nation was founded, becoming spirits wasn’t allowed anymore.”
Ji Yuwei couldn’t discern what was laughable about it, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly with hers as he idly considered another possibility—perhaps in that layer of the Divine Realm, just as here, spellcraft was held in the hands of a small number of the powerful.
And Wu Ping’an was merely the most ordinary commoner in that realm.
Wu Ping’an’s ordinariness made him frown.
His current body could not wait much longer; if he did not soon find a way to reach the Divine Realm, he could only await death.
“What’s wrong?” Wu Ping’an asked, noticing his sudden silence. Lifting her gaze, she saw him expressionless, lashes lowered, the gentle aura around him suddenly turning distant due to his coolness.
Ji Yuwei raised his lashes, the smile at his lips unchanged as before: “Nothing. I just thought perhaps Ping’an has never sensed breath, and therefore cannot condense breath to store in the talisman.”
Wu Ping’an asked: “How do I sense breath?”
Ji Yuwei had her sit on the carpet nearby.
Wu Ping’an complied.
Ji Yuwei knelt formally before her, folding his sleeves and raising a hand to hover over her heart: “Focus your spirit and visualize, concentrate on the Huangting qi point.”
Wu Ping’an concentrated on sensing. At first finding no direction, she was then guided by his two fingers pressing and instructing, finally sensing a faint thread of warm breath.
“Here condenses primordial qi, called breath. Breathe primordial qi to keep the body from decay and ruin, then condense breath at the fingertips.”
Wu Ping’an attempted to stir the primordial qi, finding that warm, living essence completely unmoving.
“What do you feel?” Ji Yuwei asked her gently.
Wu Ping’an tried several times but could not stir it. Looking up, she truthfully told him: “I can sense it, but I can’t move it. It’s like a mass of qi that scatters at a touch.”
Ji Yuwei gathered his thoughts, moving his fingers from the Huangting qi point to hover over her supraclavicular fossa: “Is the qi here?”
Wu Ping’an hesitated, sensing, then shook her head: “Uncertain.”
Ji Yuwei slid downward, hovering over the suprasternal notch: “Here then?”
Wu Ping’an still shook her head: “It feels like it’s throughout the chest and upper abdomen.”
“Throughout?” He slightly widened his cat-like pupils, pensively pressing his fingers against her sternal notch, pushing down, then asking her: “Has it moved?”
Wu Ping’an was pressed back a bit by him, fortunately the stone table behind stabilized her posture. Leaning against it, she hesitantly shook her head: “It seems not.”
Ji Yuwei continued pressing downward on her abdomen, two fingers pressing down: “Is there more here?”
Wu Ping’an felt a bit nervous with this press, half her body arching up. “Same here.”
Yet the energy around her couldn’t condense.
Ji Yuwei pressed his palm against her abdomen, lifting his lashes to gaze at her.
Seeing his unusual expression, Wu Ping’an asked worriedly, “Do I lack talent?”
Ji Yuwei shook his head, speaking calmly. “Ping’an has abundant qi and blood.”
Wu Ping’an was taken aback. “High talent?”
Ji Yuwei smiled. “Long-lived, commonly called a long life.”
“Ah…” Wu Ping’an sensed the resentment in his words and couldn’t help but wonder if she actually had great talent. But the next moment, after the young man withdrew his hand with restraint, he told her.
“The energy cannot condense, likely because the acupoints are blocked and cannot connect. Ping’an needs to think about pressing them open before practicing spellcraft.”
In other words, her physical talent was insufficient, but she would live long.
Wu Ping’an’s face fell, but she quickly cheered up again.
Although she lacked talent, according to his implication, she would live many years without accidents.
But the premise was no accidents, so she needed to return home even more urgently, or learn spellcraft as quickly as possible.
Wu Ping’an reignited her fighting spirit. “Can you teach me again?”
Meanwhile, Ji Yuwei, kneeling quietly before her, showed no smile in his eyes. He watched her brighten upon hearing about her long life, his lips curving into a faint, pre-carved smile. “Alright.”
He pressed again on her Tiantu, Juque, Shenque, and other points. Wu Ping’an seized the moment, striving to stir her primal energy. Unconsciously, she felt warmth in her lower abdomen and thought she had succeeded, looking up at him with joy. “It seems to be moving.”
The palm on her abdomen paused. The young man guiding her trembled his lashes, his cheeks slightly flushed as he maintained his smile. “Yes.”
Wu Ping’an soon asked again, “But I felt like I couldn’t breathe just now. Is that a problem?”
Of course it was.
Ji Yuwei’s palm pressed against her abdomen through her clothes as he slowly told her, “No problem. I’ll help you clear the blockages more often from now on. You should soon be able to circulate primal energy and transform it into living essence.”
Wu Ping’an trusted him. Hearing this, she felt reassured and wanted to try stirring it again. But the young man, for no reason, blushed, his eyes growing hazy, his ears reddening. He gazed at her with a smile, his crimson lips like a demon that had sucked vital essence.
“Ping’an, rest for today. Practice again tomorrow.”
Wu Ping’an looked up at the golden crow not yet set in the sky. “It seems still early. If we don’t practice, there’s nothing to do.”
She wanted to practice diligently, but Ji Yuwei seemed to misunderstand. Slowly lowering from watching the sky with her, he stared at the slender neck exposed when she tilted her head, then tilted his own. Suddenly, he knelt up and pressed his face against the crook of her neck like an animal.
Wu Ping’an felt a wetness at her neck and instinctively looked down.
She saw the young man’s crimson lips, slightly parted, revealing a hint of scarlet tongue flesh. His dazed expression seemed to invite her to kiss there, and as she looked down, he licked her neck.
Wu Ping’an had never seen a young man so innately seductive and alluring.
While she was stunned, he licked her throat bone, rubbed his nose against her jaw, and whispered softly, “Then Wei will keep Ping’an company for a while.”
“Ah, ah…” Wu Ping’an wanted to shake her head. “No, I didn’t mean…”
Ji Yuwei tilted his head, his black hair tied with a flower hairpin cascading down. His pitch-black pupils fixed unwaveringly on her.
Wu Ping’an’s voice softened, and she nodded hesitantly.
Falling in love was normal.
Ji Yuwei didn’t mind her earlier hesitation. His hands, braced on either side of her, slowly moved up to grasp her wrists. Lowering his lashes, he kissed her jaw and cheeks, occasionally turning to bite her neck, not just pressing his lips as before.
Without even touching lips, Wu Ping’an’s fair skin flushed red at the slightest contact, and she couldn’t sit still from his kisses.
As a grown woman, being slowly kissed in an exploratory, intimate manner easily made her body go soft. It wasn’t just that her eyes grew misty—she leaned weakly against the stone table, breathing heavily.
Ji Yuwei felt a growing heat and couldn’t resist taking her lips into his mouth, savoring them slowly.
This was a sensation he had never experienced before—warm, moist, like a soft, accommodating shell. The tender flesh trembled slightly when tasted, even secreting sweet nectar that made his whole body go limp. That drowning feeling, which even medicine couldn’t hold back, surged once more from his throat downward.
In an instant, he suddenly grabbed Wu Ping’an’s hands, lifting his cold, enchanting misty eyes as she gasped in surprise.
“What’s wrong?” Wu Ping’an parted her lips slightly, panting, her chestnut-black pupils damp with confusion as she stared at his sudden movement.
Suppressing the sudden excitement, Ji Yuwei frowned slightly and breathed lightly. “It’s nothing.”
Only then did he remember she didn’t know spellcraft and couldn’t take his living essence. It was just that his body was too damaged to endure prolonged kissing.
Having kissed her enough, Wu Ping’an gently pushed him away, covering her flushed neck. Her eyes slightly unfocused, she calmly said, “Then… I should go home?”
Ji Yuwei didn’t respond.
As Wu Ping’an stood to leave, her sleeve was tugged again.
She looked at Ji Yuwei.
The young man’s jade-like face, slightly tilted upward, was flushed. His lashes were damp with glistening tears, and his smiling red lips, soft and moist, carried a hint of breathlessness. “Ping’an, stay for lunch before you go.”
Unable to refuse, Wu Ping’an ultimately stayed for the midday meal.
But after finishing and rinsing her mouth, when she prepared to leave, Ji Yuwei had someone escort her.
Before leaving Ji Manor, Wu Ping’an encountered Ji Cizhao. However, she held little fondness for him, so after meeting his gaze from a distance and nodding, she averted her eyes.
The one escorting her back was still Zhou Wu.
On the way, Wu Ping’an asked, “Has your eldest young master already been betrothed?”
Zhou Wu was surprised. “Where did you hear that, miss?”
Wu Ping’an was puzzled. “He hasn’t yet?”
Zhou Wu replied, “The eldest young master is of marriageable age. In recent years, there has been intention for him to take a wife, but he has not yet been matched with anyone.”
Wu Ping’an blinked. In the book’s beginning, the female lead was already Ji Cizhao’s fiancée. She had assumed they were betrothed long ago. The book didn’t explain this—or perhaps it did, but she had skimmed through it too quickly, missing the details.
There were still several years before the book’s events began.
Lost in thoughts of the novel’s plot, Wu Ping’an rode back with Zhou Wu in the sheep-drawn carriage.
Zhou Wu saw her to the alley entrance before returning to the manor to report.
In the courtyard shaded by green foliage, the young man had just bathed, his body still damp. Leaning in a chair, he allowed a servant to dry his wet hair, listening coldly to Zhou Wu’s report.
Wu Ping’an had asked Zhou Wu whether Ji Cizhao was betrothed.
After finishing his report, Zhou Wu suddenly heard a servant accidentally pull out one of the young master’s black hairs. The servant knelt on the ground, trembling and begging for mercy.
Zhou Wu sighed inwardly. The young master despised pitiful expressions and trembling, broken voices when people begged for mercy. Apricot Grove would need another servant soon. After escorting Miss Wu tomorrow, he could stop by the slave market to select one.
But as Zhou Wu mentally arranged tomorrow’s tasks, he waited and waited, yet heard no response from the young master.
Zhou Wu wanted to look up but didn’t dare, curiosity burning inside him.
And this youth, as if moonlight on snow, lounged lazily upon the long bench. His gauze silk robe, fluid as water, clung to his slender frame, the line from shoulder to leg forming a graceful arc. His bare feet were pale as polished jade, and his gaze was fixed coldly upon the severed hair on the floor.
The next day, Wu Ping’an once again followed Zhou Wu to Ji Manor before dawn to study spellcraft.
Zhou Wu also knew spellcraft, and so he shared some shortcuts for practice with her. Wu Ping’an regretted not having brought brush and ink to jot them down.
Along the way, they passed by Apricot Grove.
Ji Yuwei had already set up the desk, waiting for her arrival. The crane-shaped incense burner on the table had burned halfway, and beside it lay a stack of freshly drawn fu talismans.
Upon seeing her, he set down his brush and handed her the talismans before him.
“Let’s try again today.”
Wu Ping’an only now realized that the talismans were drawn by him.
Out of gratitude for his teaching her to fish rather than merely giving her fish, she asked with concern, “When did you get up to draw these?”
Ji Yuwei sat calmly, his dark pupils like polished lacquer holding a faint, gentle smile. “At the beginning of the Yin hour.”
Wu Ping’an calculated the time—he had risen at three in the morning.
She hadn’t expected him to stay up nearly all night just to draw talismans for her. If she hadn’t asked, he might never have mentioned it. Feeling a complex mix of emotions, she became even more determined than yesterday to master spellcraft quickly, hoping to ease his burden.
Today’s talismans were more numerous than yesterday’s. Though Wu Ping’an lacked innate talent, she learned with earnest dedication. Finally, as the saying goes, heaven rewards the diligent. Unintentionally, she focused her breath into a talisman, causing a nearby apricot, which had gradually shed its youthful green, to fall—right into his lap.
“I think I’ve got it! Ji Yuwei.” Wu Ping’an leaned her hands on the desk, her eyes bright with excitement as she reached for the apricot that had fallen between his legs.
Before she could touch it, he moved it aside.
Ji Yuwei picked up the apricot and placed it to the side. His long brows and elegant eyes carried a spring-like warmth, his words comforting: “Ping’an, you’re quite remarkable.”
Wu Ping’an had nearly touched an inappropriate spot in her excitement and now felt her face flush. Hearing his gentle words, she looked at him and asked, “How long must I practice before I can learn other things?”
Ji Yuwei pondered, then offered a moderate estimate: “About half a year.”
Half a year was already the timeframe for someone with considerable talent. Given Wu Ping’an’s aptitude, even a year might prove challenging, requiring more diligent effort than others.
Wu Ping’an was self-aware. Initially surprised by the length of time, she soon accepted that haste was futile and returned to her focused studies.
When the talismans were used up, she proactively sat before him. “Should we try clearing the meridians again today? It seemed quite helpful yesterday. Today, I was able to focus my breath, store it in the talisman, and release it.”
Though the force was subtle, she had genuinely succeeded. She wanted Ji Yuwei to help her once more.
Ji Yuwei watched as she knelt before him, her dark hair tied in a bun, her chestnut-black eyes sparkling. The sparse, curled lashes, glimmering with golden light, always made him want to reach out and catch them.
“Alright.”
He did not refuse, instructing someone to remove the wooden desk between them before kneeling closer to her.
But facing each other felt somewhat awkward. As he raised his head, Wu Ping’an proactively suggested, “I’ll turn around. You can guide me from behind.”
Ji Yuwei remained silent, watching as she turned and knelt before him, leaving her entire back trustingly exposed to him.
As summer grew increasingly hot, Wu Ping’an no longer dressed as heavily as before. In the morning, when the humidity was high, she wore a fur cloak over a plain, layered skirt. While practicing spellcraft, she had removed the cloak due to the heat, leaving only a thin, gauzy long skirt. Her hair was pinned up in a bun, and her slender neck glowed with a soft, pale light.
Wu Ping’an concentrated, waiting for Ji Yuwei’s guidance. After a moment of silence behind her, she felt a touch on the nape of her neck.
She turned her head and saw the young man’s dark, lustrous hair cascading as if draped over her back, while his lips pressed against her nape.
Wu Ping’an tried to lean forward, but he clasped her wrist from behind, simultaneously biting her nape.
This posture reminded her of mating animals, evoking a faint sense of danger.
Fortunately, Ji Yuwei only gave a gentle bite before releasing her. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he breathed softly and asked, “Ping’an, what do you think of Wei’s elder brother?”
Wu Ping’an didn’t know why he suddenly brought up Ji Cizhao. Her entire back was nestled in his embrace; his hold from behind prevented her from moving or seeing the expression on his face. She answered truthfully, “He seems like a very cold-blooded person.”
As for whether he was bad or not, she didn’t know yet, having never truly understood Ji Cizhao. But from what she had personally witnessed, Ji Cizhao had treated Ji Yuwei quite poorly.
She was still thinking about the time he had whipped Ji Yuwei.
Ji Yuwei didn’t hear the words he wanted. Lowering his lashes, he said softly, “Elder brother is someone with a cold face but a kind heart. Wei has admired him since childhood.”
Hearing this opening, Wu Ping’an suddenly understood. No wonder he had mentioned Ji Ciziao out of the blue—he must have many thoughts he wanted to share with someone.
Leaning against him, she gently hummed in agreement, ready to hold his untold secrets.
Ji Yuwei did not disappoint her expectations and began to speak of his relationship with Ji Cizhao.
Before Ji Yuwei was born, Ji Cizhao had always been the sole heir of the Ji Clan, the enviable pride of heaven. After Ji Yuwei’s birth, due to his poor health, their parents shifted their focus onto him. To ensure his survival, all the rare spellcraft manuals were given to him first, inadvertently neglecting his elder brother. Yet, his elder brother never blamed him. Instead, when their father and mother were away from the estate, he often made Ji Yuwei practice new spellcraft before allowing him to eat. Occasionally, he would even send Ji Yuwei out alone to face monster beasts. This continued until Ji Yuwei turned fifteen, when Ji Cizhao left home to take up his official post.
After hearing this, Wu Ping’an felt a subtle unease. When the youth spoke of the past, his eyes were clear and free of resentment, wholeheartedly believing that it was normal for his elder brother to make him face monster beasts alone as a child or practice spellcraft before meals.
When she read the book, Ji Cizhao had merely seemed a bit cold-faced, not the type to harm others out of jealousy. She never imagined he could be such a person.
But then again, the events Ji Yuwei described happened long ago, and she had personally witnessed Ji Cizhao whipping Ji Yuwei.
As she pondered this, the youth’s soft sigh reached her ear once more: “Ping’an, elder brother was truly good to Wei back then. Why did he grow distant later?”
Wu Ping’an couldn’t bear to point out the truth and comforted him instead: “Perhaps it’s because you were apart for a few years. It should get better in the future.”
“Is that so?” His long, enchanting eyes lifted slightly, his gaze empty as he stared at her.
Wu Ping’an nodded. She couldn’t speak ill of others either, so she could only do her best to console him.
Although Ji Yuwei didn’t get to hear her express dislike for Ji Cizhao, it didn’t dampen his current joy.
In his delight, he tugged at her sleeve and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, his cheeks flushed as he whispered softly, “Then let me clear your meridians for you once more.”
His voice was soft yet somewhat deep, and the way he spoke while pressed against her carried a suggestive ambiguity that stirred the imagination.
Wu Ping’an’s neck flushed red from his touch. Sitting stiffly, she tilted her head back, allowing his fingers to slip inside her collar to clear her meridians.
It was the same spot as yesterday, but this time, his skin was pressed directly against hers. The whispered words he murmured by her ear were like a spinning top, relentently whipping at her rapidly beating heart, spinning so fast it made her dizzy. Because of this, she didn’t notice Ji Yuwei lazily lifting his face.
He gazed at her flushed, dampened cheeks and her slightly parted lips as she breathed, his eyes gradually deepening.
Wu Ping’an’s lips were not thin; her lower lip was even somewhat full. When she opened her mouth, the moist tongue inside was tender like clam meat, tinged with a healthy reddish hue. For no reason, it made him want to stuff something inside to block it.
He stared at her lips, slowly turning her half-lidded face, then lowered his head to press against her mouth. From between her lips, he extended his tongue, blocking the opening.
The sudden, slick intrusion flooded her mouth. Wu Ping’an’s eyes snapped open, meeting Ji Yuwei’s enlarged, fever-flushed face.
The youth’s lowered dark lashes trembled like the wings of a black butterfly. With one hand gripping half her face, he pushed his tongue fully inside.
Wu Ping’an’s face exploded with heat. Trembling, she tried to push him away. “Ji Yuwei!”
She burned with shame, her heart racing, dizzy and bewildered, wondering when he had learned such a thing.
Yet Ji Yuwei seemed utterly unaware of any wrongdoing. As he withdrew his crimson tongue, a long, transparent, sticky strand stretched from her mouth. Finally, he licked her lips once more, then pressed a hand against her belly.
The delicate flush on the youth’s pale cheeks appeared almost purely seductive as he asked, “Ping’an, is it moving here?”
Wu Ping’an stared dumbly as he panted with wet, reddened lips, his gaze fixed intently on her—while her lower back felt distinctly peculiar.
She hadn’t moved. How could she be moving? It wasn’t her who was moving.