The evening breeze drifted across Yunkui Summit, and the leaves of the old pagoda tree rustled in the dark.
On the square dining table at the center of the courtyard, the dishes lay in ruins.
The last echoes of those old Lido days had faded to a close as well.
Pan Yinhu’s cooking was in a class of its own — not a scrap of the meal remained.
Ju Fufu slouched back in her chair, rubbing her round belly without a shred of dignity, and let out a contented burp.
Her thick orange-and-white tail flopped twice at her side, and she had clearly sunk into the drowsy hour that follows a good meal.
Pan Yinhu stood, untied the apron at his waist — washed pale from long use — and gathered a few empty plates into a stack.
“Senior Sister, we’ve eaten our fill.
Time to work.” The huge Panda Thiren looked over at Ju Fufu, sprawled across the chair beside him.
“We settled this today.
It’s your turn to wash the dishes, so don’t go pretending you’re asleep.” At that, Ju Fufu’s already floppy ears gave up entirely and drooped flat.
She clapped both hands over her stomach, scrunched her small face into a knot, and spoke in the frailest voice she could manage.
“Ohhh… Junior Brother Yinhu, I ate too fast just now, and all of a sudden my stomach hurts something awful.
How about you take the trouble tonight and wash them for me?
Next time — next time I’ll do it for sure!” Pan Yinhu wasn’t buying a word of it.
He set the plates back on the table, folded his arms across his chest, and let disbelief fill his round panda face.
“Senior Sister, you pulled that same trick last month.
And the month before that it was a sprained wrist.
Today, even if Master herself gave the order, these dishes are yours!
Yunkui Summit has its rules, and we don’t break them.” Watching the pair of clowns fall into their daily squabble, Ye Shiyuan shook his head.
He rose and reached out to clear the wreckage off the table, only for Ye Shunguang to stop him.
“Brother, go rest.
Senior Brother Yinhu and I can clean up.” Little Guang picked up a few bowls and turned to call across the courtyard.
“Senior Sister, hurry up and go draw water in the kitchen, or Senior Brother Yinhu really will start threatening to dock next month’s meat bun ration.” The mention of losing meat buns cured Ju Fufu’s illness on the spot.
She sprang upright in one clean motion, muttering, “Fine, I’ll wash them, I’ll wash them.
Junior Brother Yinhu is such a miser,” and let Pan Yinhu haul her off to the back kitchen, grumbling all the way.
Miguel rolled up his sleeves and moved to lend a hand, meaning to carry a couple of plates for Little Guang, but a thick bear paw swung out and blocked him.
“Aiya~ You mustn’t, you mustn’t!” Pan Yinhu shook his head again and again.
“Mr.
Miguel, you’re an honored guest of Yunkui Summit.
Whoever heard of a guest washing dishes?
Go sit down and rest, we’ll have this finished in no time.” With the matter put that way, Miguel could hardly insist, so he simply rolled his sleeves back down.
Seeing that, Yixuan — who had been sitting quietly off to one side all this while — rose, smoothed her robes, and came to stand before him.
“Mr.
Miguel, if you have time to spare, would you do me the honor of walking with me a while?” Her voice was calm and unhurried, though a trace of anticipation glimmered in her golden eyes.
At dinner, Ju Fufu, Pan Yinhu and the rest of her disciples had been far too rowdy.
They had kept the mood blazing, granted, but they had also left her, their Master, no opening to get a word in edgewise.
Now the banquet had broken up and her disciples had gone off to their tasks, she had finally found a chance to speak with this honored guest alone.
As it happened, Miguel was in the habit of walking after a meal, and he nodded without hesitation.
“Of course.
The guest follows the host.” One after the other, the two of them stepped out through the gate of the courtyard house.
Night on Yunkui Summit was very quiet.
The mountain wind came down along the wooded path, carrying the clean fragrance of grass and trees.
No lamps stood along the flagstone road.
There was only the bright moon hung high in the night sky, spilling a cold white light that stretched their two shadows out long.
Miguel and Yixuan walked side by side.
The quiet between them never turned heavy.
As a being of exceedingly high order, Miguel had no need to reach out with his senses to know that the Sect Master beside him was weighing and reweighing what she meant to say.
He didn’t press her.
He only slowed his stride to match hers.
He understood well enough that for someone like Yixuan, accustomed to shouldering every burden alone, lowering her guard was a process that took its own time.
Their footsteps echoed in turn along the empty mountain road.
Before either of them quite noticed, they had come once more to the area near the Tranquil Heart Pavilion.
Not the faintest light showed there now.
Only Yixuan and the sleeping Yijiang lived in this place, and the daily sweeping fell to a handful of the disciples.
Deep in the still of the night, the whole old-fashioned courtyard had dissolved completely into the dark, and only the wind chimes beneath the eaves rang out now and then, clear and bright.
Yixuan stopped, turned to the man at her side, and broke the silence herself at last.
“To tell the truth, I had meant to thank you again, and to do it properly.” There was a frankness in her voice.
“But with the words already on my lips, it struck me that doing so would only make me sound too formal.” That made Miguel laugh outright.
“Sect Master Yixuan guessed exactly right.” He turned to meet her gaze.
“We’ve all shared a table by now.
If we start standing on ceremony at this point, wouldn’t that put a wall between us?” “I’d say that compared with how things stood at midday, calling what we have ‘friends’ fits rather better.” The word “friends” left Yixuan visibly still for a moment.
Then the ever-composed, ever-dignified Sect Master of Yunkui Summit let her brow soften at last, and a wholly unguarded smile surfaced on her face.
“It does.
Nothing could fit better than ‘friends.'” Yixuan nodded and glanced back toward the courtyard house.
“My disciples haven’t been this happy in a very long time.
It’s plain to see — they’re all quite fond of you.” “Fond of me?” “Mm~” Miguel drew the sound out on purpose, and countered with a half-joke.
“Maybe my personal charm is simply too overwhelming?” “Still, since the praise comes from Sect Master Yixuan herself, I’ll thicken my skin and accept it~” A reply that casual was genuinely not what Yixuan had expected.
In her mind, Miguel — the renowned “Savior” of New Eridu — ought to have been steadier, graver, a man slow to smile.
As he stood now, he gave off far more the impression of a big, friendly boy from the house next door.
Were it not for the methods he had shown inside the Tranquil Heart Pavilion at noon, which had left Yixuan and the others staring in astonishment, anyone else who met him would surely take him for nothing more than a young man freshly out into the world.
The thought lifted something in Yixuan, so quietly that she scarcely noticed it happen.
Seeing her only nod with a soft laugh, Miguel took the opening and carried the conversation on.
“Speaking of which — if we’re all friends now, dragging a ‘Mister’ around everywhere sounds far too distant.
I’ll call you Yixuan, and you can just call me Miguel.” Yixuan raised no objection; the change came to her naturally.
“All right.
Miguel.” That single change in how they addressed one another closed a good deal of the distance between them in an instant.
Walnut-chan🔥👻 🔥 New history: Zenless Zone Zero: