He Lan Tan’s messages arrived one after another, and the Transmission Jade Slip at Song Yin’s waist chimed incessantly.
Song Yin, however, had her own business to attend to.
She had to feed the kittens.
When He Lan Tan finally tracked her down, Song Yin still had a handful of small dried fish in her palm. She was squatting by a wall, her pale yellow skirt brushing against the ground.
He saw her calling out to a scarred kitten: “Cold Noodles.”
He Lan Tan thought that perhaps because the cat looked a bit fierce and cold, she had given it such a name.
Then he heard her calling the others: “Cold Rice Noodles, Rice Noodles, Beef Bun—come here, all of you!”
One by one, orange tabbies, calicos, and tortoiseshells leapt down from the wall, landing with thuds beside Song Yin, crowding around the hem of her skirt to eat the cat food from her palm.
Song Yin looked up and smiled at He Lan Tan. “I’ve sterilized so many kittens today. You’re really smart; putting the medicine directly into the cat food makes it so efficient.”
Previously, to stop Song Yin from meeting with a blade cultivator to manually “fix” the stray cats and dogs, He Lan Tan had simply brought out a sterilization drug developed by the Medicine Sect. He had modified it into a version suitable for cats and dogs; mass-medicating food was far more efficient than a blade cultivator cutting them one by one.
“Ending-the-bloodline” small dried fish!
He Lan Tan stayed by her side, scratching a kitten under its chin. The kitten tilted its head back and narrowed its eyes, purring loudly, only to be fed a mouthful of the sterilization drug.
“Is your First Senior Brother also a grey cat?”
“What do you mean ‘grey cat’!” Song Yin immediately retorted.
“First Senior Brother’s fur just grew thicker because he’s living a good life. Look closely—he has patterns; he’s a tabby cat!”
After feeding the cats, Song Yin had no urgent business. She sat in the sun, holding a plump orange cat that had finished its food and was blissfully unaware that it had lost its ability to reproduce.
He Lan Tan had important, confidential business to discuss with Shi Qiu today, but he didn’t want to miss these last few days of being with Song Yin. Consequently, he decided to take her with him to the restaurant.
Shi Qiu hadn’t arrived yet. Song Yin and He Lan Tan sat in a private booth by the window, waiting.
Bored, Song Yin began reminiscing about the previous competition, boasting loudly that she had contributed ninety percent of the effort to Zhan Zhaozhao’s victory over the Heartlessness cultivator.
While bragging, she didn’t miss a chance to take jabs at the Path of Heartlessness.
“That was someone from the Path of Heartlessness! Everyone knows they have zero emotional intelligence.”
He Lan Tan rested his chin on his hand and listened quietly, only to be blindsided by Song Yin’s next turn of phrase: “But if I get the chance, I really want to try and challenge myself by sleeping with one!”
Song Yin’s eyes sparkled as she rubbed her hands together. “The Path of Heartlessness—the ultimate hallmark of a virgin!”
“Sleeping with one should probably boost my cultivation quite a bit!”
He Lan Tan’s expression shifted instantly. He grew angry and turned his head away, ignoring her.
Song Yin rattled on for a few more sentences before suddenly realizing he wasn’t responding. She leaned over; He Lan Tan’s face was like ice, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his pale blue eyes looked as if they were frozen over.
Those exquisite, limpid blue rivers were now capped with the bitter frost of midwinter.
His beauty made her want to reach out, to touch those hexagonal frost flowers with her fingertips and melt the frozen river into spring.
Song Yin’s throat tightened; she felt a sudden craving. She wanted to touch the corners of his eyes, to kiss his gaze.
Tsk. Though she didn’t understand why he was always getting angry so suddenly, she had to admit—he was incredibly captivating when he was cross.
Song Yin wasn’t the type of person to be reckless or impolite.
So, she leaned in and asked very politely, “Hello. Although you are very angry, could you give me a kiss?”
Her wrists were still adorned with the multiple solid gold bracelets He Lan Tan had bought for her. They jingled in a heavy cluster—wide, narrow, engraved, and gem-encrusted ones—forming a set that was both extravagant and magnificent.
Song Yin had been delighted when he bought them; these gold bracelets were all solid. Even if they were heavy, it was the weight of money, a “burden of happiness.”
Solid gold really was different; it didn’t deform. Resting her arm on the table, the bracelets even pressed against her wrist painfully.
Hearing her words, He Lan Tan still said nothing. He turned his neck further away, the crescent moon of his earring flashing in a clear gesture of rejection.
Song Yin tried to lean in to kiss him again, but he picked up a cup of tea and used it to block his face.
Fine, if you won’t give a kiss, then you won’t.
Song Yin pouted as well, sitting down beside him and stopping her teasing. She lowered her gaze and began playing with her nine gold bracelets.
He Lan Tan was irritated—irritated by her half-heartedness, her fickleness, and her lack of persistence.
He looked down; the little charm demon was still fiddling with her bracelets.
Her profile was a rosy white, like a freshly ripened peach. Her nose was perky, and her lips were still pouted in a slight sulk.
What did she have to be dissatisfied about? What right did she have to be unhappy?
He Lan Tan seethed inwardly, staring at her face.
The little charm demon’s eyelashes were long, dark, and curled. She was so beautiful. It was infuriating—couldn’t she be a bit more serious? Couldn’t she just focus on pursuing him alone?
Shi Qiu finally arrived. He looked surprised to see Song Yin, as today’s meeting involved top-secret matters that, by rights, should not involve a third party. However, Shi Qiu quickly composed himself and got down to business, speaking seriously with He Lan Tan.
During a break in the meeting, Shi Qiu took a sip of water. Perhaps swept up by the lively atmosphere of the Zhuque Prefecture competitions, he brought up an old story from the Medicine Sect’s own past assessments.
Back then, the Medicine Sect’s examination tested courage and mettle. The final stage involved a rope stretched between two cliffs. Disciples had to grip the rope with their bare hands and hang in mid-air, crossing the chasm using only their physical strength, without the aid of any tools or magic.
A thousand-foot drop, with only a single thick hemp rope.
Many people took one look and retreated in fear, while others failed midway due to lack of stamina.
Only He Lan Tan had gripped that rope, inch by inch, and climbed to the other side.
Hearing this, Song Yin looked up from her jingling bracelets.
Shi Qiu continued to boast, “He Lan’s performance back then was absolutely brilliant. He won beautifully!”
That competition had indeed been difficult. At that time, He Lan Tan had only recently been brought out of the medicine vats, transitioning from a “medicine human” to the young master of the Medicine Sect. Many inside and outside the sect were not convinced of his status.
He had to not only refine high-grade pills but also command respect in every aspect. That test of courage was the perfect opportunity.
He had focused his mind and climbed, his body suspended in the void, his entire being sensing the balance as he struggled forward. That rough, yellow hemp rope had gradually been stained with spots of blood. By the last few feet, it had been soaked entirely crimson.
He had indeed won beautifully. He deserved praise.
As Shi Qiu finished his chatter, He Lan Tan’s expression remained unchanged.
Seeing Song Yin suddenly look up at him with such a serious gaze, He Lan Tan gave a slight nod, maintaining a reserved air. He expected her to look at him with adoration.
He was already thinking that if the little charm demon praised him, he would wave his hand dismissively and say: It was a small matter, not worth boasting about.
To his surprise, Song Yin suddenly grabbed his hand. Her fingers tightened around his wrist as she lowered her head, using the pad of her thumb to carefully trace the deep scar in his palm.
Her gaze slid over the wound inch by inch, as if it possessed actual warmth.
Her brow furrowed, as if she were vividly imagining the scene from back then.
Then, she closed her hands around his, her palm pressing against his, covering his palm lines and the scar. A warm, soft heat transferred through their skin as Song Yin used her own palm to warm his scar.
She opened her lips, her beautiful eyes fixed on him with a shimmering light.
“It must have hurt a lot back then, right?”
Thump-thump.
He Lan Tan’s heart skipped a beat and then began to race.
It felt as though she hadn’t touched an old scar, but rather a deeply hidden, vulnerable spot in his soul.
Those ten thousand butterflies began to flutter in his heart once more, and the pollen of a hundred flowers seemed to entangle him in a fine, soft itch.
That wound, which had long since stopped hurting, suddenly burst with heat under her touch, burning so hot it felt as if his blood were boiling.
He Lan Tan repeatedly warned himself to ignore these abnormal agitations of body and mind.
It’s only because she’s a charm demon. She’s a charm demon. She’s using her charms on me. Once the Clarity Pill is refined, it will be fine. It will definitely be fine.
He Lan Tan took a deep breath and tried to pull his hand from hers, but he couldn’t break free. Song Yin’s hands were small, but her strength was significant.
He had no choice but to shift his grip, interlacing his fingers with hers. He held her hand under the table, waiting for her to grow bored or tired so she would let go.
He continued discussing matters with Shi Qiu.
The topics were significant, and He Lan Tan’s expression was tense. He was handling matters with extreme seriousness and even deliberately leaked some Medicine Sect secrets without hesitation.
He knew that Song Yin’s master, Sikong Lan, disliked the Medicine Sect and his uncle. He intentionally mentioned several secrets regarding Heaven-grade pills, purposefully using his uncle’s vital interests as a test to see how Song Yin would react.
Would she take advantage of him? Would she seize the chance to pry for Medicine Sect secrets?
But Song Yin had been quiet for a long time. She was either playing with her bracelets—admiring the beauty of her solid gold treasures—or she was tugging at his hair to braid it, purposefully intertwining the black ends of his hair with his light blue silk ribbons to form a thin braid.
Or she would reach under the table to hold his hand, her thumb tracing circles in his palm, scratching him like a tickle. When he tried to snap his fingers shut to catch her in a surprise attack, she would nimbly escape, the corners of her eyes and brows tilting in a triumphant, playful arc.
She was immersed in her own world. For the better part of an hour that He Lan Tan spoke with Shi Qiu, she stayed quietly by herself, playing.
He Lan Tan “accidentally” revealed another Medicine Sect secret.
At this point, Song Yin suddenly frowned and went still, as if she were thinking about something important.
He Lan Tan cleared his throat, preparing to ask: What are you thinking about?
But Song Yin suddenly leaned toward his ear and whispered his name twice, very softly: “Lan Tan, Lan Tan.”
She said mysteriously, “I’ve discovered that your name sounds really nice when called like that.”
Having said her piece, she went back to casually twisting a few strands of his hair around her finger, the hair forming loops around her knuckles in a slight entanglement.
Thump-thump.
His heartbeat grew even faster.
He Lan Tan clutched his chest, his eyes blinking rapidly, his gaze filling with an ignorant confusion. He wanted to grab a cold drink to extinguish the fire in his heart and regain his composure, only to realize he had been dazed for a long time after hearing her whisper his name.
He swore he had to refine that pill as soon as possible and take an extra-large dose.
He couldn’t go on like this. He could never let the little charm demon bewitch him again!