Unmelted snowflakes rested on Lu Qing’an’s shoulders. Before she had even settled after entering the door, she heard her mother call out to her.
“Come quickly and pay your respects to the Immortal Venerable.”
Raising her gaze, a woman of unearthly, breathtaking beauty seated in the seat of honor instantly filled her vision.
A stray lock of hair was parted from her temple, hanging beside her cheek. Her eyebrows were straight and delicate, dipping slightly at the outer corners to emit a trace of vulnerability.
The corners of her eyes slanted upward like little hooks sprinkled with gold dust, glittering intermittently in the light. Her eyes were exceptionally striking, half-closed, exuding a lazy nonchalance. Her cupid’s bow was full and rounded with soft contours, seemingly brushed with cosmetic powder and vividly crimson.
Catching Lu Qing’an’s gaze, the woman did not avoid it. Her thin lips curled into a faint smile as she rested her elbow on the table, supporting her chin with the back of her hand, generously allowing herself to be scrutinized.
Outside, heavy snowflakes filled the sky, leaving a thick layer on the ground that crunched audibly beneathfoot. A single step caused half a shoe to sink right into it.
Lu Qing’an stepped forward in little sheepskin boots, the interiors meticulously lined with fine, long-fleece wool wrapping her entire feet. She wore a white fox-fur cloak, the collar embroidered with orchid and osmanthus patterns. Her brocade cap was still on, and she clutched a small hand-warmer.
The woman sat in the main seat of the hall, and at this moment, Lu Qing’an was facing her directly. The two sides of the woman’s collar crossed low over her chest rather than at the usual throat position, exposing her collarbones and a tiny fraction of her shoulders, forming an inverted triangle over her upper body that revealed her ruddy, fair skin.
That patch of exposed collarbone struck straight and clear into Lu Qing’an’s eyes. Further down was what she dared not look at.
Lu Qing’an’s mind wavered. She gripped the sole object in her hand tightly, feeling a sudden flash of heat in her palm, yet she did not let go. Lowering her head rapidly, the tips of her ears burned a bright, translucent red.
“You silly child, hurry over.”
The exchange of glances and avoidance had transpired in a split second, as if completely unnoticed.
Madame Lu shot Lu Qing’an a meaningful look and said, “This is the Immortal Venerable of the Liuyun Sect.”
With the previous image still vivid in her mind and not daring to raise her head, Lu Qing’an complied by bowing deeply, her voice louder than necessary as if to cover up something. “Greetings, Immortal Venerable.”
Feather-like snowflakes fluttered and swirled without the slightest sign of stopping, the biting wind stinging her face like blades.
Two sets of footprints landed one after another on the ground, intertwining so closely that it was impossible to tell whose was whose.
Lu Qing’an looked at the figure ahead. The woman’s hair was unbound, falling over her shoulders as silky as ink down to her waist, covering most of her spine.
Occasionally, snowflakes would land on her shoulders, instantly melting into tiny droplets of water.
Yet with every movement, the woman’s extraordinarily slender waist was outlined. The hem of her skirt was deliberately split up the middle from the outer side of her thigh, revealing her delicate, slender legs as she walked.
Lu Qing’an lagged slowly behind. Her usually glib mouth felt as though it had been glued shut, unable to utter a single word.
She had been playing outside when she was summoned back so abruptly that she had prepared nothing. Her mother hadn’t given her many instructions either, telling her only to follow this woman and take her as her master.
Reaching a certain spot, the master performed a hand seal, transforming a stream of light into the shape of a sword that landed on the ground.
The sudden change broke the quiet atmosphere. Seeing a scene straight out of a legend materialize before her eyes, Lu Qing’an let out a soft “wow,” squatted down, and poked the sword hilt, the chill making her shiver.
“Master, is this your sword? Will I be able to do this in the future too?” Lu Qing’an circled the sword, clumsily mimicking the woman’s earlier hand seal as she asked excitedly.
The woman, whose bare feet were exposed, stepped onto the glowing white sword.
“Master, do I need to stand on it too?”
Seeing this action, Lu Qing’an’s lingering excitement, feeling as though she had acquired some precious treasure, caused her to hop around the master, the white fox fur on her attire rising and falling with her movements.
Watching her, the woman’s red lips curled into a mischievous smile. “No, I am on it.”
“And you,” she pointed at the ground with a pristine white finger, the deep red nail polish striking against her skin, and as she moved, exposing her clean white wrist, “you run on the ground.”
This was the first time Lu Qing’an had heard the woman speak, and it felt as though something had gently scratched her heart, sending a numb tingling sensation through half her body.
She broke into an untainted smile, her eyes curving into crescent moons, her puppy-like eyes sparkling. “Alright, alright! I’ve never seen anyone fly in the sky before.”
True to her word, the woman did not stand on ceremony with her and flew forward.
Lu Qing’an broke into a sprint to keep up right behind her.
Whenever Lu Qing’an slowed down, the sword slowed; whenever she sped up, the sword’s speed increased.
The distance between her and the tail of the sword remained a steady two or three meters, neither closing in nor falling back, moving almost teasingly.
Lu Qing’an had no idea how long she had been running. She could only feel her legs trembling, her breathing ragged, and a faint taste of blood in her mouth.
“Master, Master, slow down! I can’t run anymore!”
Hearing the breathless cries from behind, the woman raised an eyebrow and slowly brought the sword to a halt before her.
Sweat from Lu Qing’an’s forehead trickled into her eyes, stinging fiercely, prompting her to simply close them.
Acting completely shameless, she flopped straight onto the ground like a dried salted fish and yelled stiffly, “Master, I’m not running anymore! I can’t run!”
This trick, which worked a hundred times out of a hundred at home, was pulled out once again.
Yet when no response came for a long time, Lu Qing’an’s confidence faltered. Thinking she should peek through a slit in her eyes to see what the woman was doing, she opened them.
A jade-like face was mere fractions of an inch away from hers.
Startled, Lu Qing’an’s eyes widened instantly. She had no doubt that if she moved even slightly, she would make intimate contact with the woman.
She unconsciously held her breath. “Master?”
The woman let out a soft laugh, stood up, and distanced herself.
Daring not lies on the ground any longer, Lu Qing’an scrambled up in a panic.
“If you can’t run anymore, come over here.”
As the woman’s voice sounded, Lu Qing’an felt a current surge from her shoulders straight to her heart, numbing half her body.
Looking over, she saw that a space had been deliberately left for her at the back of the sword. Like an eager puppy, she hurried over, terrified the woman might change her mind the next second.
The moment her foot stepped onto it, the precious sword immediately rose into the air and surged forward.
Before Lu Qing’an could steady herself, she staggered and, in her panic, grabbed the sleeve of the woman in front of her.
She felt a piece of fabric tear away in her grip. As she tipped over, remembering the height they were currently at in the sky, Lu Qing’an was certain she was done for.
Just as she was wishing she could cry and mentally drafting her final will, she suddenly felt her waistband hooked by a powerful force that yanked her forward.
Riding that momentum, Lu Qing’an tried to maintain an upright stance, but using too much force, she lunged straight forward and wrapped her arms around the figure ahead of her.
Her nose was surrounded by the scent of lily of the valley, and her hands met smooth, delicate skin.
Realizing the compromising nature of her position, Lu Qing’an blushed as bright as a cooked lobster and quickly released her grip.
The woman turned her head and glanced at her with a half-smile. “Be careful. I won’t always be so kind.”
She was referring to the moment she had caught Lu Qing’an’s waistband.
With that, she pulled her outer robe from Lu Qing’an’s hands.
The cicada-wing-thin outer garment was put back on by the woman, concealing her fluttering butterfly-like shoulder blades, while the translucent fabric slowly covered her rounded, pristine white shoulders in a hazy display.
Lu Qing’an stared blankly for a moment. Realizing she had been caught gawking, she instantly lowered her head, not daring to look again.
Fortunately, she was standing directly behind the woman, preventing the latter from seeing her expression, or else something unpredictable would happen.
What would have happened otherwise, Lu Qing’an didn’t know, but she instinctively felt that she must never let the woman find out about this.
Yet the alluring image in her mind refused to fade. Lu Qing’an shook her head vigorously in an attempt to shake it out.
Through the motion of shaking her head, the heavy snowfall in the surrounding sky entered her vision; the snow was falling somewhat fiercely, some of it clumping together into clusters as it dropped.
“Master, aren’t you cold?”
Ever since leaving home, the woman had been wearing such scanty attire.
“Do you want to wear my cloak? It’s very warm. My mother specially looked for it.”
As she spoke, she had already untied and removed her cloak.
Receiving no reply, Lu Qing’an assumed the woman had silently consented, and gently draped the cloak over the woman’s back from behind.
Still, the woman gave no response whatsoever.
As the flying sword advanced, Lu Qing’an looked down at the familiar city below, watching it shrink smaller and smaller until it lay fully revealed in a single glance.
“Master, that’s my home.”
Lu Qing’an pointed below, speaking happily. Noticing that the person in front of her had no intention of engaging, she pulled her hand back.
Undeterred, she looked down at the ground and muttered to herself, “Who knew my house would look so small from high up!”
“When I was little, the maid and I used to play hide-and-seek, but she could never find me.”
“Whenever I made my family mad and they wanted to spank me, I always found places to hide, in the trees, in the doghouse, in the root cellar. There wasn’t a place I hadn’t hidden.”
Lu Qing’an chattered endlessly about her childhood, spilling words like beans from a tipped jar.
Gazing downward, the scenery beneath her feet felt like watching a shadow play. Even though the person standing right in front of her hadn’t uttered a single syllable, she didn’t find it boring at all.
Gliding past city after city, the landscape gradually transformed into a towering mountain range.
“Master, it’s not snowing here anymore!” The sight before her made Lu Qing’an’s eyes widen as she instinctively reached out to grab the person in front of her.
Not only was it not snowing, but patches of green had begun to appear across several mountain peaks.
Before her fingers could touch the other person, she felt a repelling force bounce her hand right back.
Seeing this, Lu Qing’an lightly tapped her own extended hand.
“I’m used to being like this with my friends. If you don’t like it, I’ll pay attention in the future.” She raised her hand, intending to tug on the front person’s sleeve, but remembering she had just been pushed away for doing the same thing, she dropped her raised hand.
With that, she watched for the master’s reaction, but the figure ahead remained completely motionless.
The sword came to a halt right at the foot of the mountain.