She was a warrior of the Previous Era, the Red Kite Immortal who had lived through endless ages; her state of mind should have long been as still as an ancient well.
Why, in recent years, had her emotions frequently fluctuated because of this disciple?
Was it because these ten years were too peaceful, eroding her resolve?
Or was it…
something else?
She couldn’t say.
She only felt that the sensation was both strange and disturbing, like water weeds quietly spreading beneath a spring stream, inadvertently entangling her mind.
“As you wish.”
In the end, she didn’t stop him further, only speaking a faint word before turning back to the Quiet Chamber.
Only, her pace was a fraction faster than usual, carrying a hint of undetectable…
panic?
Arthur watched her figure disappear before scratching his head, picking up the heavy bundle of bamboo again, and continuing his trek to the summit.
He actually understood everything perfectly.
Repairing the mountain gate was half for the “facade” and “just in case” he spoke of.
The other half, perhaps even he was unwilling to delve into—he simply needed to keep himself busy, constantly busy, so busy that there was no room to dwell on those thoughts he shouldn’t have.
It had been ten years.
That heartbeat that had quietly broken through the soil one evening had not, as he expected, been buried by time or withered away after being suppressed by his reason.
It was more like a grapevine: seemingly quiet but possessing a tenacious vitality, growing silently along the walls of his heart in places where no light reached, its roots and branches intertwining.
On ordinary days, it was well-covered by his various “careers”—growing vegetables, cooking, researching new crops, repairing the house and temple.
But as soon as he stopped, as soon as he saw her figure, heard her voice, or even just caught the faint, cold scent on the wind like a pine forest after snow, those vines would quietly extend their tendrils and pluck at his heartstrings.
Immortal and mortal are distinct.
These words were the cage he had drawn for himself and the mantra he repeatedly used for self-admonition.
He was thirty-two.
Although he looked younger than his actual age due to practicing the Taixu Sword Qi and the peaceful mountain life, fine lines had eventually appeared at the corners of his eyes, and the calluses on his palms had thickened.
On him, time was a stream with visible traces.
Time seemed to have stagnated around her.
She remained as she was when they first met, elegant and ethereal, her azure eyes holding the stillness of eternity.
Ten years was but a blink of an eye to her.
He was a mortal who would age and die, becoming nothing but a handful of yellow earth in a hundred years.
She was an immortal, living as long as heaven and earth, having witnessed countless dynastic changes and shifts in mountains and rivers.
What did his affection, his little secret thoughts, amount to in such a long life?
Perhaps they didn’t even count as a fleeting spray of water.
So, suppress it.
He had to suppress it.
Grow more vegetables, make more “inventions,” make the mountain gate more grand, teach Chaoyu better…
Use countless tangible things to fill and pack down the hollow emotions in his heart.
He, Arthur, was a man with career ambitions!
Thinking this, his steps became more forceful, and he climbed to the summit in one breath…
Back at the Bamboo House on the mountainside, under the grape trellis.
Lin Chaoyu sat on a small stool with a sword manual spread before her, but she hadn’t turned a page in a long while.
The sixteen-year-old girl had shed her childhood thinness and timidity, growing into a graceful young woman.
Her simple green dress complemented her fair skin.
Her long black hair was draped smoothly over her shoulders, with part of it tied back by a matching ribbon.
Most special were her eyes; the pupils were a pale gold, like melted honey, but they were currently out of focus as she gazed at the grapes hanging from the trellis.
Her heart was in a mess.
Her gaze kept drifting involuntarily toward the mountain path where her Senior Brother had gone up carrying the bamboo.
Calculating the time, he should be back soon.
Senior Brother…
At the thought of Arthur, Lin Chaoyu’s cheeks heated up slightly.
Over these ten years, her Senior Brother had been like a warm and steady light, shining into the cold, dark world she had entered after losing everything.
Master was the mountain, the faith, a distant and reassuring presence.
But Senior Brother was different.
Senior Brother was the one who remembered she didn’t like green onions and would carefully pick them out every time he cooked; he was the one who, when she was frustrated with her sword practice, wouldn’t give her grand lectures but would instead hand her a bowl of sweet soup and say, “Take a break, try this, it’s made from freshly picked grapes.” Visit novelping(.)com for the full chapter.
He was the one who would secretly make her small wooden swords and weave grass grasshoppers, coaxing her like she was truly a small child.
He was also the one who, when she was panicked and lost during her first period, had blushed but calmly handed her a package of soft cloth strips and a hand-drawn booklet, then ran off to boil brown sugar ginger water.
Senior Brother was very skillful; he could grow all sorts of magical crops, fix anything that was broken, and make the dilapidated Taoist temple look brand new.
Senior Brother’s smile was very warm, like the winter sun—not scorching, but able to dry up all the dampness in one’s heart.
Senior Brother…
was too good.
So good that she recently started to feel a bit stifled in her heart whenever she saw Senior Brother smile at Master.
So good that when Senior Brother occasionally patted her head and praised her progress in swordsmanship, her heart would race, and she would toss and turn at night, unable to sleep.
This was wrong.
Lin Chaoyu shook her head vigorously, trying to throw out the face that always wore a smile.
She was Master’s disciple, and Senior Brother was Master’s…
uh, also a disciple, but more like…
family?
An elder?
How could she…
But she just couldn’t help thinking about him.
Thinking about what delicious food Senior Brother made today, whether Senior Brother was tired from repairing the mountain gate, thinking about Senior Brother…
“Chaoyu.”
A cool voice interrupted her chaotic thoughts.
Lin Chaoyu was startled and stood up abruptly, her sword manual hitting the ground with a thud.
“Ma-Master!” She hurriedly picked up the manual, her face growing even hotter, as if her secret thoughts had been seen through.
Fu Hua had arrived under the grape trellis at some unknown point.
She looked at the girl’s flushed cheeks and evasive eyes, then followed the direction of her previous dazed gaze toward the small path leading to the summit.
That subtle sense of abnormality in her heart seemed to become a bit clearer.
In ten years, the thin and frightened girl of the past had grown up.