“You think I’d believe you’re actually being this kind?”
Fu Shuang remained silent for a moment before saying flatly, “If you hadn’t said anything, I truly wouldn’t have been able to tell you were cultivating.”
Ming Yuemian was dazed. “Huh?”
“Sister, is there something wrong with how I’m practicing?”
Fu Shuang: “…”
She thought to herself: She actually has the nerve to ask? There’s hardly a single thing she’s doing right.
“Are you…” Fu Shuang asked uncertainly, “trying to condense a Qi Sea?”
“Yeah.” Ming Yuemian thought: Why ask in such a hesitant tone! Isn’t it obvious?!
Calming herself, Fu Shuang observed Ming Yuemian carefully. Her Qi Sea appeared incredibly faint, like a newborn seedling pushing through the soil. Still, it had formed, though her horse stance was so poorly executed it looked like she was just playing around.
More importantly, Fu Shuang was puzzled. Condensing a Qi Sea is the very first step for any cultivator, why was Ming Yuemian starting from there?
No matter how much she had slacked off, after all these years in the Tianxuan Pavilion, was it possible she didn’t even have a Qi Sea?
Fu Shuang found it bizarre.
Yet, looking at her clumsy movements, it seemed to be the truth. Fu Shuang fell into a pensive silence. She had intended to go to the dining hall for breakfast, but this confusion rooted her to the spot. She stood there staring at Ming Yuemian’s cultivation for a full half-hour without leaving.
Eventually, it was Ming Yuemian’s voice that pulled her wandering mind back to reality. “…Sister? Sister?”
Fu Shuang looked up. The girl who had been huffing and puffing in the courtyard with her sleeves rolled up was now standing right in front of her. They were so close their noses almost touched startled, Fu Shuang instinctively leaned her head back.
“…What are you doing?”
Ming Yuemian thought: I should be the one asking what you’re doing.
She had spent the morning practicing for an hour according to that introductory cultivation textbook. She had only just begun to get the hang of it, sensing the “Qi Sea” mentioned in the book. Though this level of progress was negligible to the likes of Fu Shuang or Feng Cheng, Ming Yuemian was extremely satisfied with this leap forward.
When Fu Shuang had passed by earlier and spoken to her, Ming Yuemian’s mind had been so focused on her practice that she hadn’t noticed. No joke, before transmigrating, she had been a top student. Even with the person she liked standing right there, she wouldn’t let herself get distracted and lower her learning efficiency.
She could clearly distinguish between “primary and secondary contradictions” at this level.
She assumed Fu Shuang had left long ago, so she was surprised to turn around and find her standing there, staring blankly at nothing.
It was rare to see Fu Shuang like this, she actually looked a bit cute when she was spaced out. Having finished her studies, Ming Yuemian decided it was time for some “recreational activity.” She approached boldly, overstepping social boundaries without a hint of guilt to tease her.
“Nothing.” Ming Yuemian slowly straightened up, her lips curling into a smile. “I’m finished practicing and I’m headed to breakfast. Sister, do you want to come with me?”
Fu Shuang had intended to go anyway. Without confirming or denying, she simply set off.
The two walked one after the other toward the inn’s dining hall.
Ming Yuemian was still covered in sweat. Given the intensity of the exercise, she felt it was no different from her daily morning runs in high school. Furthermore, it was mentally taxing. Even though the old man had given her the equivalent of a first-grade textbook, she found it a struggle, she had used every ounce of strength just to condense a thread of a Qi Sea.
It was a thread as thin as gossamer.
Still, she was very gratified. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and she had plenty of patience. She planned to read a few pages every day, following the steps steadily to improve herself.
In high spirits, Ming Yuemian’s steps were as light as if she were walking on clouds, hopping along like a rabbit. Fu Shuang lagged half a step behind, casting a cold, bewildered glance at her.
She had no idea what the girl was so happy about.
Was there really that much to be happy about all day long?
Withdrawing her gaze, she recalled the girl’s cultivation display. With a Qi Sea that weak, her actual cultivation level… wasn’t even at the Qi Refining stage?
Fu Shuang knew she was useless, but she hadn’t realized she was this useless.
It seemed her previous “cultivation” had been nothing more than an empty shell built out of the heavenly treasures and earthly rarities provided by Ming Ye.
In that case, the last shred of hesitation she felt vanished. With Ming Yuemian’s current cultivation level, taking her life would be as easy as crushing an ant.
Originally, Fu Shuang’s targets for revenge were both Feng Cheng and Ming Yuemian.
Since her rebirth, she had envisioned a thousand ways to make that pair of “dog like lovers” pay the price. After all, one was the eldest disciple of the Tianxuan Pavilion and the other was the Pavilion Master’s biological daughter compared to her, their status was several times more noble. But now, Fu Shuang realized with a start that regarding Ming Yuemian, she didn’t need to scheme at all.
The girl was an ant in the palm of her hand. Her life or death was entirely up to Fu Shuang’s whim, and she had no power to resist.
Without the protection of the Tianxuan Pavilion, she was nothing.
Just like the incident with the Kraken on the river, if Fu Shuang hadn’t intervened and instead plotted to hinder Feng Cheng so he couldn’t rescue her in time, Ming Yuemian would likely be nothing but a pile of dry bones by now.
Of course, she hated her. The agonizing pain of having her heart gouged out in her past life was real, how could she not hate her?
Although, back on the river, she had felt that letting Ming Yuemian die so easily was far too merciful, the sight of that face with its bright eyes and white teeth still made her heart sour. Hatred surged up like the torrential waters of a river, threatening to drown her.
Fu Shuang lowered her gaze slightly, her eyes settling inconspicuously on the slender, fair neck of the person in front of her.
It looked like a flower that would snap at the slightest touch.
If she just raised her hand and gave it a gentle twist…
“Sister?”
Ming Yuemian’s voice once again snapped Fu Shuang out of her thoughts. She jerked back to reality, her chaotic murderous intent scattering. She realized she had been spacing out far too many times today.
She hadn’t rested well last night. Although she stayed alone and no one came to disturb her, Fu Shuang felt as though one disjointed dream after another had plagued her. She had woken up feeling utterly exhausted.
Suddenly, Fu Shuang felt a warmth on her hand. Ming Yuemian had taken her hand and was lifting it to inspect it closely. “Sister, didn’t you use the ointment I sent you?”
A night had passed, yet the bloody scratch was still vivid; it clearly hadn’t been treated.
Reminded of this, Fu Shuang snapped her hand back and glared at Ming Yuemian.
She actually dared to bring it up herself?
The two sat down in the dining hall. The waiter immediately served steaming buns, porridge, and side dishes. Fu Shuang sat at the table like a cold, divine statue. With a frosty face, she pulled the porcelain jar of medicine from her sleeve. Her opening words were an interrogation: “Why did you send this to me?”
“???” Ming Yuemian was a bit dazed and answered honestly, “Because… weren’t you injured?”
Her expression was the definition of sincere. Fu Shuang pinched her own fingertips, reminding herself not to be deceived by the other girl.
“What does my injury have to do with you?” Fu Shuang sneered. “You think I’d believe you’re actually being this kind?”
Ming Yuemian: “…”
Seeing the other’s “speechless” expression, Fu Shuang felt she was proving herself right. “You’re so eager for me to apply this medicine, what kind of trick did you hide in it?”
Ming Yuemian: “…………”
She had calculated that Fu Shuang might not accept the gift, but she hadn’t anticipated that Fu Shuang would think it was poison and refuse to use it entirely.
She looked at Fu Shuang, her gaze gradually becoming complex. It held a hint of resentment that this person wouldn’t believe her no matter what, but mostly, it was helplessness.
Ming Yuemian sighed. She reached out, uncapped the porcelain jar, and scooped out a large dollop of ointment. Using herself as a guinea pig right in front of Fu Shuang, she smeared it directly onto her own hand.
Though she wasn’t injured, she applied it like hand cream or body lotion, it wouldn’t hurt, anyway.
“See? No poison.” Since words were ultimately groundless, Ming Yuemian used action to prove her innocence. “How could I possibly play any tricks? Can Sister rest easy now?”
Fu Shuang’s face remained cold. Her entire being radiated distrust, like a hedgehog bristling its spines at the world.
Honestly, Ming Yuemian thought, she’s so soft and gentle toward Feng Cheng, even when she sees him comforting other girls and practically getting cheated on to her face, she acts like nothing happened. But with me, she’s totally impenetrable.
Ming Yuemian sighed inwardly. Without another word, she grabbed Fu Shuang’s hand and carefully rubbed the ointment onto the scratch.
Startled, Fu Shuang tried to pull away again, but she couldn’t budge.
Ming Yuemian applied a bit of pressure, holding those wrists as white as frost and snow until she finished applying the medicine. Only then did she let go.
Fu Shuang: “…”
Her eyes widened, not just because of Ming Yuemian’s presumptuous actions, but because she realized that if she didn’t use spiritual power and relied purely on physical strength, she actually couldn’t overpower Ming Yuemian.
This realization shocked her, wasn’t this girl supposed to be useless?
“There.” Ming Yuemian replaced the cap on the jar and tucked the medicine away herself. Since Fu Shuang wouldn’t apply it anyway, Ming Yuemian sighed internally, she’d just have to watch over her and apply the medicine personally three times a day.
It wasn’t that much trouble.
In fact, for Ming Yuemian, it was a good thing. It gave her an excuse to touch Fu Shuang’s hands. She was secretly delighted, why would she find it troublesome?
The fairy baby’s hands are so white, so slender, and her skin is so smooth. Hehe.
I like touching them. I want to touch them more.
Ming Yuemian cleared her throat, shaking off those thoughts. She smiled and picked up a bun with her chopsticks, placing it on Fu Shuang’s plate. “Let’s eat. I’m so hungry. Sister, aren’t you hungry?”
“The inn made these buns, not me. They can’t be poisoned, right? Surely Sister can eat in peace now?”
Fu Shuang looked up and stared at Ming Yuemian for a moment. Her gaze was still cold, like transparent, biting ice that would never melt.
But even a cold face was beautiful. Ming Yuemian met her gaze candidly, thinking that the phrase “a feast for the eyes” was truly accurate. Looking at a beauty felt like her very eyeballs were being purified.
Fu Shuang remained unmoved with her lips pursed. Ming Yuemian felt even more like teasing her; she picked up the bun with her chopsticks and brought it right to Fu Shuang’s lips to feed her.
When had Fu Shuang ever been fed like this? Not even as a young child, let alone now that she was grown.
She instinctively frowned and turned her head to avoid it, but Ming Yuemian pressed the advantage, refusing to let her off the hook.
This kind of fussing was a bit childish, and Fu Shuang knew it, but she simply didn’t want to let the other girl have her way.
“Sister, just eat,” Ming Yuemian said after a moment, her voice softening with a hint of coaxing. “Don’t starve yourself while waiting for my hand to get tired from holding this up.”
The bun brushed against her lips. Fu Shuang paused.
Since the food had already touched her lips, she obviously couldn’t put it back. She could only shoot Ming Yuemian a resentful glare, accept it sullenly, and take a bite while struggling to keep a straight face.
Inwardly, however, she felt she had lost the upper hand.
Ming Yuemian continued to watch her with a face full of smiles as she began her own breakfast. She had no “idol baggage” and didn’t care about looking elegant, she had a great appetite, her cheeks puffing out as she ate.
Fu Shuang felt uncomfortable under that gaze. She silently chewed her bun and lowered her eyes, only to see the scratch on the back of her hand again.
And the milky white ointment that had just been applied.
She had been overthinking things last night. Thinking about it now, even if Ming Yuemian wanted to harm her, she wouldn’t buy ointment under her own name to deliver it. Being that blatant would be too stupid.
But… Fu Shuang glanced at the person lightheartedly gorging themselves at the table. She felt that while the ointment might be toxin free, Ming Yuemian herself was poisonous.