And the hazy protagonist of that poetry…
Fu Hua’s fingertips curled almost imperceptibly.
“If the heart is not still, the sword will not be pure.” Her voice remained calm, showing no ripples.
“Today’s lessons will be extended by another hour.”
“Yes, Master.”
Lin Chaoyu lowered her head, not daring to look at Fu Hua again.
She clutched her sword manual and hurried to the other side of the yard to begin her forms, but she felt as if Master’s gaze was still on her back, like a thorn.
Fu Hua was indeed looking at her, but her gaze also seemed to pierce through her, falling on a place much further away.
On the grape trellis, bunches of fruit were gradually ripening, appearing and disappearing among the green leaves, emitting a sweet, intoxicating scent.
This scent seemed no different from ten or twenty years ago.
But it also felt as if everything had changed.
She turned, her gaze sweeping over the vibrant Vegetable Garden, the newly repaired Bamboo House, and the faint outlines of new tiles and eaves on the distant summit, finally resting on her own palm.
Ten years was a brief moment to her.
But the bits and pieces embedded within this brief moment were so clear and profound—profound enough to be carved into her very bones.
That strange mental unrest caused by him had not settled with time but instead became increasingly entangling, like the vines growing in the summer.
This was very wrong.
But reflected in that lake was the image of him carrying bamboo, sweat-drenched yet with a bright smile; him crouching in the Vegetable Garden, muttering to a new seedling; him in front of the stove, his face flushed by the heat but his eyes full of focus…
and the shy, maiden-like expression Chaoyu had just shown.
Fu Hua slowly opened her eyes.
The golden setting sun filtered through the gaps in the grape leaves, casting swaying spots of light on her fair face.
She suddenly remembered that a long time ago, someone seemed to have watched her with a similar, warm gaze.
Only then…
the endings were never very good.
She had tasted the flavor of loss too many times, so many that she eventually chose to no longer possess anything.
But why, this time, did the defenses of her heart seem to…
have a crack?
The mountain wind blew, making the grape leaves rustle and bringing waves of sweet fragrance.
Evening on Tai Xu Mountain was as peaceful as ever.
But beneath this peace, within the hearts of the three people, a summer storm was hidden—unspoken yet surging in secret.
[worldline Repair Progress: 68.7%]
[Related Character “Lin Chaoyu” Status Update: Emotional awakening during adolescence; dependence and hazy favorable impression of “Arthur” have significantly increased. This chapter was taken from NovelPing without permission.
Current relationship anchor point: Warmth/Family/Hazy Admiration.]
[Hint: Key character emotional variables have increased; worldline stability is showing minor fluctuations.
Mender, please pay attention to maintaining the balance of core relationships.]
[Special Status “red dust fireworks” has upgraded to “Mortal Entanglements.” Effect: Target character “Fu Hua’s” identification with the current lifestyle and emotional involvement have deepened significantly; potential fear of “loss” has increased simultaneously.]
Arthur had just fixed the last rafter and was resting on the brand-new threshold of the Taoist temple on the summit.
System information flashed through his mind.
He looked at the dots of light shrouded in the dusk below and the vague outline of the Bamboo House on the mountainside, remaining silent for a long time.
The mountain wind was strong, making his clothes snap and flutter.
He wiped the sweat and dust from his face and cursed with a low laugh:
“This job…
is really damn hard.”
It wasn’t just the job of fixing the house.
The sweet scent of grapes seemed to drift to the summit along with the wind.