Not receiving an answer, City Lord Sang frowned.
“Did Xie Chenzhou complain about me to you?”
“No,” Sang Nian replied.
“I have eyes, I can see for myself. If I hadn’t stepped in just now, you would have hit him.”
Just as City Lord Sang was about to speak, she cut him off:
“Xie Chenzhou and I are family now, not enemies. If you really care about me, stop acting like this.”
Seeing her get upset, City Lord Sang flicked his sleeve and let out a sarcastic hum, grumbling:
“She’s been married a few days and she’s already throwing her brother away.”
Sang Nian snapped, > “Sang Qiyan!”
Hearing his full name called directly by his little sister, City Lord Sang wasn’t angry; instead, he chuckled, reached out to smooth down her hair, and helplessly conceded:
“Alright, I know.”
Only then did Sang Nian’s brow relax.
City Lord Sang turned around and gave a loud, clear order:
“Head back to the estate!”
The crowd began checking headcounts, moving with strict order and discipline.
Only Xie Chenzhou remained standing right where he was. Not a single person spoke to him, as if everyone had completely forgotten that he even existed.
Yet, countless unseen gazes lingered on him from the shadows.
Disdain, mockery, sympathy, and wariness—every single emotion was there.
A finger poked him in the back.
He turned around, his expression entirely blank.
“Come with me,” Sang Nian said. “I have something to say to you.”
Xie Chenzhou brushed her hand away, his demeanor ice-cold:
“Let me go right now, and I might spare your life.”
Without answering, Sang Nian dragged and pulled him aboard a completely different carriage.
The interior was spacious, with an unknown fragrance burning inside a bronze censer. Pale wisps of smoke curled upward, carrying a scent reminiscent of quiet orchids deep in a mountain forest.
Dismissing the attendants, only the two of them remained inside, offering a high degree of privacy.
She took a seat first and nodded toward the opposite side, gesturing for Xie Chenzhou to sit.
Acting as if he hadn’t seen it, Xie Chenzhou kept his face completely devoid of expression:
“If Miss Sang has something to say, you might as well spit it out.”
With the low wooden table between them, Sang Nian straightened her spine, her expression dead serious:
“What you told me earlier about wanting to leave—my answer is that I cannot let you go right now.”
The exact moment those words left her mouth, a rapid-fire sequence of a dozen notifications chiming down in favorability ratings flashed across her mind.
Across from her, the dark-robed youth’s gaze grew gloomy, the atmospheric pressure dropping precipitously in an instant.
Sang Nian quickly scrambled to add:
“However, I promise you that in the near future, you will have a chance to leave Qingzhou.
“When that time comes, I will not stand in your way.”
The notification alerts stopped dead in their tracks.
Xie Chenzhou swept a critical gaze up and down her frame before letting out a cold snort:
“Sang Yunling, what kind of game are you trying to play this time?”
Looking straight into his eyes, Sang Nian said: > “If you don’t believe me, I can swear an oath. A blood oath.”
In the world of immortal cultivation, a blood oath held the exact same binding power as a heavenly oath sworn to the Dao itself. Should anyone break it, the oath-breaker would bleed to death down to the very last drop.
Xie Chenzhou didn’t answer.
Outside the carriage, a gust of wind swept across the treetops by the roadside, rustling the branches and leaves into a chaotic roar. Mottled shadows of foliage flickered unsteadily across the half-open window.
Inside, silence stretched on for a long time—long enough for the wind to finally die down. Xie Chenzhou lowered his gaze to stare at her, speaking in a low voice:
“Sang Yunling, I despise being lied to above all else.”
With a soft laugh, Sang Nian replied: > “What a coincidence, because I never lie.
“If I really do deceive you, you’re welcome to come and kill me whenever you please.”
Xie Chenzhou gave a dry, humorless laugh. > “You’re certainly confident.”
“Of course.”
With that, Sang Nian tapped her fingertips impatiently against the tabletop:
“Seriously, could you please sit down? My neck is killing me from having to look up at you the whole time.”
Xie Chenzhou swished his robes and finally sat down opposite her.
Pouring a cup of tea, Sang Nian pushed it across the table:
“Even if you don’t say it out loud, I know you hate my guts. Don’t worry, I won’t cling to you the way I used to.”
A mocking curve flickered at the corners of Xie Chenzhou’s eyes:
“You’d better mean what you say.”
Ignoring his sarcasm, Sang Nian mustered her courage to probe:
“So… before you leave, can we try to get along peacefully? Stop plotting to kill me every second, and I won’t torture you anymore either. Can’t we all just live in peace? What do you say?”
Xie Chenzhou leaned back against the chair, his demeanor slipping into something lazier and deeply nonchalant:
“As you wish.”
She let out a breath of relief, the worry smoothing out between her brows, and cheerfully raised her cup to him:
“Then it’s a deal!”
Xie Chenzhou picked up the lukewarm cup of tea before him, casually admiring the intricate patterns carved along its surface.
Seeing him deliberately leaving her hanging, Sang Nian just shrugged. Maintaining her cheerful demeanor, she tilted her head back and downed the tea in one smooth gulp, using her sleeve to wipe her mouth with rather heroic abandon.
She had practically turned a cup of light tea into hard liquor.
Xie Chenzhou’s tone laced with a hint of mockery:
“It seems your brother has never bothered to teach you the proper etiquette expected of a young lady from a noble family.”
“Nonsense,” Sang Nian blurted out. “Have you ever met a noble young lady who casually carries a whip around to beat people?”
The moment the words left her mouth, a pang of guilt hit her as she glanced sideways at Xie Chenzhou.
Right—almost forgot. Not only had this guy seen one, but he’d had a firsthand physical demonstration.
Sure enough, although a faint smile lingered at the corners of Xie Chenzhou’s lips, his gaze grew a shade darker by the second.
Opting for a strategic retreat, Sang Nian lowered her head to peel an orange, pretending not to notice anything as she clumsily changed the subject:
“I remember you were just a normal mortal like me. How did you suddenly get so powerful?”
In a flat voice, Xie Chenzhou replied:
“I was injured previously and lost all my cultivation. Otherwise…”
He let out a cold laugh. > “You wouldn’t have lived to see today.”
“Oh,” Sang Nian murmured, keeping her head down to peel another segment without saying anything further.
The reaction was far too calm. Xie Chenzhou observed her quietly without a single ripple showing on his face.
He had expected her to seize the opportunity to probe into his background, or at least show some fear. Instead, the girl across from him lowered her head in thought for a long moment before murmuring softly:
“Still, to become this powerful, you must have gone through a lot of terrible suffering.”
Xie Chenzhou blinked, taken aback.
A peeled orange, missing a single segment, sat neatly upon a jade dish as it was pushed across the table toward him, its sections plump and translucent.
The fresh, citrusy scent cut right through the lingering fragrance of orchard-grown orchids, weaving delicate threads at the tip of his nose.
The slight upward curve of Xie Chenzhou’s lips slowly flattened.
Across the table, Sang Nian swallowed hard to clear the piece of orange stuck in her throat, wiped the juice from her fingertips, and propped her chin in both hands to look at him, her voice bright and clear:
“Xie Chenzhou, you are the absolute most formidable person I’ve ever met.”
“…”
Xie Chenzhou’s finger unconsciously brushed against the slightly raised relief pattern on his teacup. He lowered his gaze to sip the half-cold tea, his thick eyelashes casting a shadow that concealed the emotions swirling in his eyes.
【Ding ~ Xie Chenzhou favorability +100】
With crinkling eyes, Sang Nian smiled. > “Do you not like oranges?”
She nudged the plate a little closer to him. > “They’re super sweet, you know.”
After a long pause, Xie Chenzhou set his teacup down, plucked a segment of the orange, and popped it into his mouth.
An indescribable, biting sourness flooded every corner of his palate, instantly making him knit his brows.
Xie Chenzhou raised his eyes to look at Sang Nian.
She looked entirely innocent, her tone dead serious:
“Most people don’t know this, but the segment right after a sour orange piece is usually sweet—in fact, it’s the absolute sweetest piece on the entire tree, because the tree funnels all its sugar straight into it.”
Skeptical, Xie Chenzhou tried another segment.
Xie Chenzhou: “…”
Sang Nian, who had been waiting for his reaction, immediately burst into unrestrained laughter, rocking back and forth:
“You fool! There’s no such thing! If one piece is sour, obviously the whole orange is going to be sour.”
Yet Xie Chenzhou insisted: > “It’s sweet.”
Unconvinced, Sang Nian protested: > “No way.”
He popped another segment into his mouth, his expression unchanging as he handed the remaining half over to her:
“These are honey oranges from Liangzhou. Every single one of them only has one sour piece, and the rest are entirely sweet.”
Sang Nian: “?”
Could it be that the varieties of oranges in the cultivation world were genuinely different?
Observing Xie Chenzhou’s expression closely and hesitating repeatedly, she finally plucked a segment and cautiously took a tiny bite.
Sang Nian: “…”
With a lazy tone, Xie Chenzhou asked: > “Well?”
Sang Nian thrust her middle finger up with a fierce expression, but remembering herself, she quickly smoothed out her twisted features, grabbed the rest of the orange, and bolted with a triumphant grin straight toward the carriage carrying Su Xueyin and the others.
A moment later, bursts of laughter echoed simultaneously with shrieks of agony.
Propping his chin in one hand, Xie Chenzhou listened sideways to the lively commotion next door, the corners of his mouth twitching upward into a faint, fleeting arc.
He reached up to touch the side of his mouth, a flash of pure bewilderment crossing his features.
Suddenly, his peripheral vision caught sight of the dense forest lining the road, his pupils contracting sharply.
At the very tip of the highest tree branch perched two crows, their feathers pitch-black and their eyes an eerie, glowing green.
Catching Xie Chenzhou’s gaze, the two birds nodded at him from afar before flapping their wings and taking flight.
By the window, the warmth in Xie Chenzhou’s eyes drained away bit by bit. He lowered his head to stare at his own slender, bony knuckles.
…
“They found me after all.”