The next day, the front hall remained a swirling vortex of tension, while the backyard was as calm as still water. Upon hearing that Fu Yunmo was leaving, Ning Buqu came to offer his regards. He personally demonstrated several basic moves of the Cangyun Thirteen Swords, hoping they would serve as her protection on the road.
After several attempts, Fu Yunmo hadn’t quite mastered them all. Fortunately, her background in dance gave her excellent coordination, and her movements were fluid. By the third demonstration, she finally grasped the basics. Nan Kunlun had also learned the set; he promised to remind her if she ever forgot the forms.
After Ning Buqu’s group departed, Fu Yunmo secluded herself in her room to finish the transcription. About three hours later, she laid down her brush, the task complete. Since it was just past noon, she decided to try meditating.
It was strange—ancient internal energy was truly fascinating. Since practicing the introductory mental cultivation of the Cangyun Sect, her steps felt lighter, her movements more agile, and even her hearing and vision had sharpened. While she wasn’t yet at the level where she could injure someone with an invisible palm strike, her body felt incredibly flexible, and her wound no longer stung.
She stretched and sat cross-legged on the daybed. Just as she was about to enter a meditative trance, a commotion outside caught her attention.
“Brother Pockmark!” “Get out of my way!” “Sister Mo is resting! You can’t—!”
The door was thrown open. Zhang Pockmark stormed in, his face flushed with rage. Luckily, Fu Yunmo was fully dressed, or this brute would have seen more than he bargained for.
“Brother Pockmark, to what do I owe the honor?” Fu Yunmo remained seated, looking up at his reddened face. She felt a surge of annoyance at his lack of manners. Is a lady’s room a public thoroughfare for men like him?
“You! Get out of the Sihai Inn immediately!” Zhang pointed a finger at her, his posture arrogant.
Before she could speak, he continued his tirade. “Because of you, the front hall is a mess! Yet you hide back here enjoying yourself. If it weren’t for Boss Li protecting you, do you think you’d still be standing here in one piece?”
Fu Yunmo clenched her fists tightly, but a cold smile played on her lips. “I am leaving tomorrow.”
“The sooner the better! You’re so capable, aren’t you? Obtaining the Fengyun Manual… Whether you become the supreme master of the martial world or end up a corpse in a ditch in the future, don’t you dare involve the Sihai Inn!”
Zhang’s shouting drew a crowd. Chef Chen from the kitchen and Zeng Dazhuang from the front hall rushed in to restrain him.
“Don’t worry,” Fu Yunmo said, her voice taut with restrained fury. “Whatever happens to me in the future has nothing to do with this inn. Now, get out! I don’t want to see your face!”
“Better if you and your little lover get out together! You’ve made this place a cesspool!”
“What did you say?” Fu Yunmo stood up. Zhang flinched, instinctively taking a step back as he saw the fire in her eyes.
“I said, you and your little lover Nan Kunlun should get out! Don’t ruin the reputation of the Sihai Inn!”
At those words, Fu Yunmo’s logic snapped. She channeled all her strength into a single punch that landed squarely on Zhang’s face.
“You think I’m a pushover because I didn’t hit back? Zhang Pockmark, I’ve tolerated you time and again, but you just keep pushing. You think I’m Hello Kitty just because I don’t show my claws?”
A tooth flew from Zhang’s mouth. With her newfound internal energy, her physical strength was far greater than before. This punch, delivered with full force, left him spitting blood.
“You—!”
The others stepped in to hold Zhang back. While they told both parties to stop, no one actually moved to restrain Fu Yunmo. They held Zhang firmly, subconsiously allowing Fu Yunmo to vent her grievances.
“You what? You think I’m competing with you for the manager position? You can barely read, you’re ugly, you’re dim-witted, narrow-minded, and a bully! You think someone with your character could ever be a manager? In your next life, maybe!”
Fu Yunmo spat out every bit of resentment she had held back. Since she was leaving anyway, she had no reason to save his face. The onlookers felt a secret sense of relief; they didn’t like Zhang either, but they had tolerated him for the sake of peace.
Nan Kunlun entered just as she finished. “Brother Pockmark, I used to respect you, but after you slandered me and Sister Mo like that, I want to punch you, too.” He raised a fist significantly larger than Fu Yunmo’s.
“You… you! If you dare hit me, I’ll report you to the officials!” Zhang was clearly terrified. He scrambled backward, looking for a way to escape.
“Enough! Zhang, go wash your face. And you two, no more fighting—this is still the Sihai Inn,” Chef Chen commanded sternly.
Zhang fled as if he’d been granted a royal pardon. Xiao Yu’er, unable to bear the sight, followed him out. Once he was gone, Chef Chen and Zeng Dazhuang couldn’t help but laugh.
“That was satisfying! Truly satisfying!” Chef Chen clapped his hands.
That evening, Fu Yunmo went to say goodbye to Young Boss Li and hand over the transcribed scripture. He offered her some silver for the journey; she initially refused, but he insisted until she accepted. He also gave her several bamboo flasks of wine.
Later, Mo Lixi appeared, asking for a word. The two walked out to the courtyard.
Under the quiet night sky, neither spoke for a long time. The only sound was the chirping of insects. Feeling the awkwardness, Fu Yunmo opened a flask and took a drink.
“Is the wine good?” Mo Lixi asked.
Fu Yunmo raised an eyebrow. Did Mo Lixi not drink? It made sense—living in a sect was often like being a nun; no meat, no alcohol. “Would you like to try some?”
She offered the flask. She expected Mo Lixi to find it unhygienic, but the woman took it, removed her veil, and drank several deep gulps. Fu Yunmo watched the slight furrow in her brow and the movement of her throat. Is she in a bad mood tonight?
Mo Lixi coughed slightly, choked by the alcohol. Fu Yunmo patted her back. “It’s watered-down wine. It shouldn’t be too strong for you.”
“It’s not good,” Mo Lixi concluded. She turned to Fu Yunmo. Without her veil and slightly flushed from the wine, her eyes were hazy and alluring. Under the moonlight, she looked like a “drunken immortal”—ethereal yet possessed of a sudden, captivating charm.
“Then you shouldn’t drink it anymore,” Fu Yunmo said, her own throat feeling strangely dry.
“I return to the Tianyuan Sect tomorrow… After tomorrow, I don’t know if we will ever meet again.” The wine had made Mo Lixi more direct, her voice tender and tinged with reluctance.
“If it’s meant to be, we will,” Fu Yunmo replied with a standard cliché.
Mo Lixi shook her head. She reached out and placed a cool palm against Fu Yunmo’s burning cheek. Fu Yunmo felt her heart skip a beat.
“Are we truly just friends?” Mo Lixi asked. It was a question she was asking herself, but Fu Yunmo didn’t understand the depth of it.
Suddenly, Mo Lixi leaned in. Before Fu Yunmo could react, a soft kiss landed on the corner of her lips—tasting of wine and smelling of jasmine. It was gentle and intoxicating.
Thump-thump, thump-thump…
Fu Yunmo’s heart raced.
“Why do I want to do this to you…?” Mo Lixi’s breath brushed against her skin. While Fu Yunmo stood frozen in shock, Mo Lixi turned and walked away, leaving even her veil behind on the stone table.
Fu Yunmo touched her lips, her fingers trembling. The plot is definitely off-track… She only did that because she’s drunk, right?
But Fu Yunmo wasn’t drunk. Why wouldn’t her own heart stop racing? She looked at the veil on the table and started to pick it up to chase after her, but she stopped. She stared at the silk for a long time before sighing.
I’ll keep it… as a memento.