Yixuan stayed where she was.
The fingers she had left hanging in midair curled slightly, then drew back with a stiffness she could not hide.
The words “Master brought a man home!” went on echoing through the valley, and heat rushed straight to her head.
Color flooded her cheeks, and even the tips of her ears burned.
That wretched girl.
How could one throat be so loud!?
Yixuan drew a deep breath and crushed the urge to sprint after that “orange cat,” haul her back by the scruff, and beat some sense into her.
She turned to face Miguel.
“This…
that is…” The Sect Master whose word was law in front of her disciples was, for once, stammering.
“Mr.
Miguel, please do not take offense.” Out of excuses, Yixuan pressed a hand to her forehead and gave him a rueful smile.
“My eldest disciple was born mischievous and has never learned to guard her tongue.
She meant nothing by it, and I will discipline her severely afterward.” Miguel looked at the woman in front of him, normally so composed and now flustered like a parent with no idea what to do about a wayward child, and laughed softly.
He knew perfectly well that if he picked up the thread and teased her now, she would be hunting for a crack in the ground to crawl into.
Miguel waved it off, his tone warm and easy.
“It is nothing, Sect Master Yixuan.” He tilted his head toward the direction Ju Fufu had bolted.
“Fufu meant no harm.
Young people should be lively; it suits them.
If anything, watching her tells me exactly how well a master looks after her disciples here.” Miguel turned back and met Yixuan’s eyes, still smiling.
“To stay that innocent and that full of life in a world like this one, well, anyone can see she has been cared for very well.” Yixuan blinked.
His words were measured.
Not a trace of condescending comfort in them, only an honest acknowledgment of everything she had given as a master.
The embarrassment her disciple’s shouting had caused, and the gnawing dread over her sister, both of them somehow melted away under those few gentle sentences.
Yixuan let out a quiet breath of relief.
She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply again.
When she opened them, the flush was gone, and she was once more the serene, dignified Sect Master of Yunkui Summit.
“Thank you for understanding, Mr.
Miguel.” Yixuan inclined her head, her old composure back in place.
“Since that girl has already shouted the news to the whole sect, dragging my feet now would only make Yunkui Summit look small-minded.” She stepped aside and gestured for him to go ahead.
“Please follow me, Mr.
Miguel.
Allow me to introduce you to my good-for-nothing disciples first.” “The guest follows the host,” Miguel said with a smile, falling into step.
The two of them walked side by side out of the training grounds on the rear mountain.
They followed a mountain path paved with bluestone, and the whole way along it Yixuan kept a quiet watch on their surroundings.
With a shout like the one Ju Fufu had let loose, every disciple on Yunkui Summit should have been up and stirring by now.
Yet apart from the wind rustling through the pines, the stillness around them was almost unnatural.
No flock of chattering disciples came running to gawk.
That puzzled her, until she swept her senses ahead across the sect’s main hall and found her answer.
There were only three people inside.
Besides Ju Fufu, who was still bouncing off the walls, the other two presences belonged to her second disciple, Ye Shiyuan, and her third, Pan Yinhu.
The corner of Yixuan’s mouth lifted.
So Shiyuan had cut the girl off partway.
At least one of her disciples could be relied upon.
Inside the sect hall, meanwhile.
Ju Fufu stood on the cushion at the center of the hall, hands planted on her hips, the fluffy tail behind her hoisted high.
“You two should have seen it!” She acted the whole thing out with her arms, her small face flushed scarlet.
“Master just, whoosh, popped a living, breathing man out of thin air!
And a really good-looking one at that!” To her left stood a young man in a plain robe, clean-featured and handsome.
He held himself straight-backed, hands clasped behind him, his face giving nothing away.
This was Ye Shiyuan, the senior brother of Yunkui Summit.
Listening to Ju Fufu embellish, Ye Shiyuan only lowered his eyes.
His voice was flat, yet it carried little of the exasperation his senior sister’s temperament usually earned.
He had long since grown used to her, and had not taken much of what she said seriously.
Conjuring a live human out of nowhere was, after all, a bit much to swallow.
“Senior Sister, if Master brought a guest back to the mountain, she had her reasons.
Shrieking about it like this is unbecoming.” “Oh please, Junior Brother Ye, you are so stiff!” Ju Fufu flapped a hand at him and turned to the other side.
“Junior Brother Yinhu, you be the judge!
Master rides us so hard, and then she goes and brings a man back without a word to anyone.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” The junior brother in question was a round-bodied Panda Thiren.
He had been standing off to the side listening to his seniors go at it, only for the conversation to land squarely on his head.
Pan Yinhu looked up, and a helpless look crossed his honest face.
“Do not drag me into this, Senior Sister.
Master’s ledger is still sitting with me.
Last month you ate more than ten thousand Denny worth of extra snacks and the books still have not been squared.
What standing do we have to blackmail Master?” “You penny-pinching miser!” Ju Fufu stamped her feet, the ears on top of her head shooting upright.
“All we have to do is hold this over her and get the meat budget raised.
She would have to agree!
And then I…
no, wait!
Then we all eat meat every day.
What is wrong with that?” She was in full flow, and never noticed the two figures that had crossed the threshold of the hall without a sound.
Ye Shiyuan’s gaze slid past her to the doorway.
He said nothing.
He simply edged half a step to the side.
Pan Yinhu’s round black eyes caught the new arrivals as well.
He sucked in a breath, dropped his head, put on the face of a man who had heard absolutely nothing, and drifted casually away from his senior sister.
Both of them were quietly sweating on her behalf.
As for Ju Fufu?
Still going, words pouring out of her like water through a broken dam.
Entirely oblivious to the two figures behind her.
“And let me tell you, that guy looks like he has a really easy temper, so when the time comes we can…” She never finished.
Something tightened at the back of her neck.
A slender but very strong hand had closed firmly around the collar of her fate.
Ju Fufu squirmed on instinct, and then a familiar pressure, cool and quiet, settled over every inch of her.
She turned her head, stiff as a plank.
Yixuan was watching her with something that was almost a smile, a dangerous warning glinting in her golden eyes.
“When the time comes, what?” Yixuan’s voice was soft enough to raise the hair on the back of her neck.
“Go on.
Your master is listening.” “M-Master…” Ju Fufu swallowed hard.
The two ears on her head flattened, and her tail tucked in tight.
She wanted to bolt, but in Yixuan’s grip she was a chick pinched by the throat, unable to move at all.
“Grown quite capable, have we?” Yixuan said with a cold snort.
“Learned to blackmail your master?
Meat every day?” She let go, and Ju Fufu dropped onto the cushion with a thump.
“Since you are so full of little schemes, allow me to oblige you.” Yixuan brushed her hands together, her tone almost breezy.
“From today, your meat ration for this month is halved.
All the funds go to Yinhu for safekeeping, and he is not to hand you a single coin more.” For Ju Fufu, that was worse than the sky falling.
“Master, no!” The girl crumbled on the spot, threw her arms around Yixuan’s leg, and started rolling and wailing on the floor.
“I was wrong, Master!
I will never do it again!
Make me copy scriptures, anything, just do not cut my meat!
I will die without meat!” She sobbed like the most wronged soul under heaven.
On the other side of the hall.
At some point Miguel had wandered over to stand beside Ye Shiyuan and Pan Yinhu.
Arms folded across his chest, he watched this touching display of master-and-disciple devotion with genuine interest.
“Gentlemen.” “Is this how your master and your senior sister usually get along?” Miguel asked, leaning in and keeping his voice low.
Ye Shiyuan turned his head and looked him over.
He could sense clearly that there was not the faintest ripple of Ether energy about the young man, and yet, for reasons he could not name, his instincts insisted that this person was anything but simple.
Out of courtesy, Ye Shiyuan gave a small nod and answered evenly.
“Forgive the spectacle, sir.
My senior sister is restless by nature, and while Master is strict, she has always been lenient with us.
This is just the occasional roughhousing inside the sect.
None of it is serious.” Pan Yinhu shuffled closer with a guileless grin.
“That is right, sir.
She may be crying her eyes out now, but come mealtime she will be first to the table.
And Master cutting her meat in half will save the sect a fair bit of coin.” At that thought the Panda Thiren beamed with heartfelt satisfaction, as if he could already see the surplus sitting on the ledger.
The pair of them had Miguel grinning.
He was starting to get the picture.
Out in the world, the eldest disciple of Yunkui Summit played the fierce tiger.
At home the disguise had long since fallen away, leaving nothing but a greedy orange cat.
“It is a good thing,” Miguel said, nodding.
“A place only feels like home when it is this alive.” At last, perhaps because she noticed Miguel enjoying the show, Yixuan decided the scene had gone on quite long enough.
She cleared her throat and let a little of the Sect Master’s presence out.
Ju Fufu, who had been rolling on the floor a moment before, fell silent, scrambled to her feet, and planted herself obediently beside Ye Shiyuan and Pan Yinhu.
Her big eyes still held two brimming pools of aggrieved tears, and every so often she swiped at her face with the back of her hand.
Yixuan straightened her Daoist robe and walked to the front of the hall.
Her expression turned graver than they had ever seen it.
“Enough.
No more games.
All three of you happen to be here today, so there is something I need to tell you.” The three disciples dropped every trace of slouching and straightened as one.
They all knew that when their master wore that face, something of grave importance was about to be announced.
Yixuan turned and bowed slightly to Miguel, then presented him to the three of them.
“This is Mr.
Miguel.
He is an honored guest whom Mayor Mayflower holds in the highest regard, and I invited him back here myself.” She paused, her gaze sweeping across the three disciples before her.
“Mr.
Miguel has come to Yunkui Summit to heal the former Sect Master.
My elder sister…” “Yijiang.” The moment the words left her mouth, the entire hall fell dead silent.
Ju Fufu forgot to cry.
She stared at Miguel with her eyes stretched wide, even that excitable tail of hers drooping limp.
Pan Yinhu was struck speechless too, jaw hanging open, unable to gather himself for a long moment.
And Ye Shiyuan, the one who never showed a flicker of feeling, whose composure never wavered.
The instant he heard those two words, heal Yijiang, a violent shudder ran through him.
The calm in his eyes shattered.
Raw shock and a desperate, disbelieving hope twisted together in the depths of his pupils.
The backlash of the Azure Empyrean Sword!
Even a Void Hunter had no answer for it.
It was an absolute death sentence!
If this man could truly heal Yijiang, did that mean…
that his younger sister, Ye Shunguang, could be saved as well?!
Whatever calm Ye Shiyuan usually held on to was gone.
He surged forward two long strides, straight past Ju Fufu, eyes locked on Miguel, his voice gone hoarse with the force of his feeling.
“Master, is what you say true?
He…
can this gentleman really undo the backlash of the Azure Empyrean Sword?!”