The two chatted for quite a while. Learning that Ning Jinyu would be resting at the Sword Sect for two days, Ming Lu prepared a room and a change of clothes for her, and they continued to exchange pleasantries for a long time.
Qi Mu was out gaining experience, as Luo Chuan had already mentioned. What Ning Jinyu hadn’t expected was that Zeng Rui Wen had actually been expelled from the sect for carrying on an affair with a female disciple. The two had been sent home to get married.
One could only say that life was unpredictable.
Ning Jinyu was staying in the room next to Ming Lu’s, suffering from a bit of insomnia.
She had once killed Pan Zheng on Sword Storage Peak. Sigh.
Ning Jinyu stepped out into the night. Speaking of her days in the Sword Sect, she was actually quite nostalgic.
Carrying that inexplicable emotion, she took an oil lamp and headed toward Elegant Bamboo Peak.
The main hall had been repaired, but this bamboo forest was still the same as before—gloomy and dim. Yet, Ning Jinyu wasn’t afraid. She even felt a sense of nostalgia bloom within her.
At the end of the bamboo forest was the same small wooden hut. Ning Jinyu walked in, lamp in hand. It was rather dusty and filled with cobwebs. The bamboo carvings inside were unchanged. The rabbit bamboo carving Song Qingyan had given her was still in her room at the Joyful Union Sect.
For some reason, a wave of melancholy and sadness washed over her.
Ning Jinyu walked out of the room and placed the oil lamp on a lower bamboo stalk at the edge of the forest. Gripping her sword, she began to practice her forms.
“Unify your heart and mind, gather your spiritual power in your dantian. Don’t lose focus.”
Ning Jinyu was practicing with vigor when she paused, finally reacting to the voice. She raised her head and looked toward the source of the cool, yet somewhat gentle voice. It was Song Qingyan, whom she hadn’t seen for only a few days. He was dressed in a noble, black-and-gold robe, his sharp eyes holding a commanding pressure. He held a sword and leaned against a bamboo stalk, looking at her askance.
Ning Jinyu’s face flushed slightly. This figure seemed to overlap with the resolute back she had seen before. She swallowed, feeling quite nervous. “Song Qingyan, why are you here?”
Song Qingyan raised an eyebrow and walked toward Ning Jinyu. He reached out, wanting to touch her, but she turned her head to avoid him. His eyes darkened slightly, and his tone rose. “Are you afraid of me?”
Seeing his displeased expression, Ning Jinyu braced herself and said with feigned righteousness, “You… you are of the Demon Clan, and I am a human. Naturally, we are irreconcilable.”
…She was so cute when she was blushing and flustered.
Song Qingyan lifted her chin, looking into her eyes—resplendent pupils like those of a dragon. The inky blackness held a bewitching quality. “Yu’er, my heart delights in you. Why must you lie? You clearly like me too.”
Ning Jinyu blinked rapidly, her heart pounding with nervousness. Gazing into the man’s eyes, she was momentarily dazed. I like Song Qingyan, that’s right, I like Song Qingyan.
As if her mind had been enchanted, she found Song Qingyan exceptionally handsome, more beautiful than the moon in the sky.
She involuntarily tilted her head up and leaned in to kiss his eye.
Song Qingyan let out a soft laugh and wrapped his arm around her waist, kissing her back.
Ning Jinyu, don’t even think about leaving me.
The Black Dragon appeared in the Sword Sect and carried away a beautiful Water Spiritual Root female cultivator.
The disciples on night watch stared, dumbfounded. Beyond their fear, they were mostly shocked. The Black Dragon clan was the proudest of all; how could one be willing to act as someone’s mount?
…
Ning Jinyu felt a little dizzy. In a daze, she seemed to realize she had left the Sword Sect, but she couldn’t fight off the inexplicable wave of drowsiness.
When she was clear-headed again, she was already sleeping in a palace in the Demon Realm.
She had another dream. In the dream, the high and mighty Black Dragon, his eyes red, was tangled with her in a desperate embrace, speaking of being together for all eternity.
She broke out in a heavy sweat, her consciousness hazy and her memories a jumble.
“Who’s inside?” Yan Sheng, dressed in a maid’s uniform, stood very unhappily at the door with three other demon maids who were carrying sets of clothing.
The head maid, Juan’er, smiled faintly. “Miss Yan, the young lady inside was brought back by His Majesty late last night. His Majesty has said that she is the future Empress.”
Yan Sheng’s expression turned ugly. She wanted to rush in and see, but the three maids blocked her. “Miss Yan Sheng, even if you are a Demon Princess, you are the one who shamelessly insisted on staying in the Demon Clan as a maid after seeing His Majesty. You are now just a low-ranking maid. Please mind the rules. His Majesty is not afraid of the Demon Clan looking for trouble.”
“I know.” Yan Sheng returned to her spot in the line, her face crestfallen. She had suffered more grievances in these few days in the Demon Clan than in several decades in her own clan.
Ning Jinyu looked at the furnishings in the room and listened to the voices outside, pushing open the door in a daze.
She was even more startled when she saw the four maids’ faces. Weren’t these the gentle maid and the malicious maid she had seen before?
“Young lady, His Majesty has ordered us to serve you,” Juan’er said in a gentle tone.
Ning Jinyu composed herself, pursing her lips and staring intently at Yan Sheng, who was standing at the very back.
It seemed she wasn’t a high-ranking maid anymore.
She thought back to last night. She had actually confessed to Song Qingyan.
Ahhh! How could she have suddenly been so captivated by his looks! No, that wasn’t right!
Ning Jinyu sighed and said softly, “Come in.”
The clothes of the Demon Clan were also made of the finest Cloud Brocade, the fabric soft and comfortable. This was a crimson immortal dress. It wasn’t a wide robe, but a design with cinched, slightly loose petal-like sleeves that was both fitting and beautiful.
The maids combed out her ink-black hair and skillfully styled it into a lovely butterfly bun, securing it with a jade-colored hairpin.
Yan Sheng was not among those doing the work. It seemed she wasn’t of a high enough rank. She stood to the side with another maid, waiting.
As Juan’er finished Ning Jinyu’s makeup and hair, she couldn’t help but praise her silently. Although this woman was a human cultivator, her beauty was truly devastating. No wonder the newly enthroned His Majesty had suddenly left the Demon Clan to abduct her overnight.
“Young lady, we still do not know your esteemed name.”
Ning Jinyu glanced at her and smiled. “I am Ning Jinyu. And I don’t know your names yet.”
“This servant’s name is Chun Juan. Miss Ning may just call me Juan’er.” Her tone was somewhat flattered as she continued, “Miss Ning, this is Chun Xi, this is Chun Xiang, and that is Yan Sheng.”
“Greetings, Miss Ning.”
Ning Jinyu’s eyes curved into a smile. Yan Sheng’s expression as she curtsied was just too amusing, a stark contrast to her previous arrogance.
She felt a little dizzy, and her head still ached when she thought about last night. She wanted to see Song Qingyan.
After the maids finished dressing her and doing her hair, they also meticulously prepared breakfast, then took her for a stroll around the palace.
The guards of the Demon Clan were dressed rather imposingly in silver armor, holding long spears. They stood motionless and meticulously, looking like the unfeeling sort.
…
“Well now, where did this beauty come from?” The man’s voice, hearty and teasing, came from a tree.
Ning Jinyu was in the Demon Palace’s garden, enjoying the scenery under a pear blossom tree while waiting for Song Qingyan, who had not yet finished with his morning court session.
“Lord Fan.” Juan’er and the others curtsied, a testament to the noble status of the man in the tree.
Ning Jinyu looked up and saw a man leaning against a branch. He wore a purple straight-pleated court robe, with a matching gold-threaded spider-patterned belt tied at his waist. His black hair was tied up and secured with a turquoise-inlaid, gold-gilded crown.
He was handsome and dashing, exuding an innate nobility. He carried a gourd of wine, a flush on his face, and his casual posture gave him a somewhat carefree air.