“Yunqing, I plan to accompany Qingge to Medicine King Valley to seek medicine afterward. You should come along too. After all, she was injured while saving you.”
Yan Qingge was the true disciple of the Red Sun Phoenix Heaven Sect, ranked fourth among the human race’s major sects.
She was Chu Mo’s close sister who had grown up with her.
Their relationship could be summed up like this: they could share everything except a bed partner for dual cultivation.
The reason Pei Yunqing had been able to return this time was that Yan Qingge had discovered him imprisoned by the demon race while she was out on a trial.
She had fought with her life on the line to rescue him, but in the battle she had been wounded by a demonic poison.
Whether out of sisterly affection or gratitude for saving her beloved, Chu Mo had to take responsibility for this matter.
“Mmm…” Pei Yunqing nodded, looking somewhat preoccupied.
“Chu Mo, actually, after I returned to Mistveil Pavilion, I discussed it with my parents. My mother has a remnant volume of a medical text that contains a method for treating demonic poisons. Since Qingge was poisoned while saving me, could you let me treat her?”
Chu Mo’s hand holding the wine cup paused.
A flash of disbelief crossed her eyes.
She hadn’t known her beloved was so capable before, but on second thought, it didn’t seem appropriate.
“Yunqing, Qingge is currently at the ninth layer of the Spirit Transformation Stage, right at the critical point of breaking through. If anything goes wrong, I’m afraid it could damage her cultivation foundation.”
“But she was injured because of me. I have the ability to heal her, yet I’m pushing it onto someone else. No matter how you look at it, that’s unjustifiable. In the future, I might not even have the face to see Qingge again.”
“Yunqing… Are you sure you can cure Qingge?”
“Of course. Father, mother, and I have simulated it according to the medical text several times. There won’t be any problems.”
Looking at Pei Yunqing, who was so eager to save someone that he was almost in tears, Chu Mo knew this was absurd, even a bit reckless.
But if she refused, it would seem like she was letting down his good intentions.
Chu Mo gripped the wine cup tightly.
The matter with Bai Qingran… She had already wronged Pei Yunqing enough.
She really couldn’t bring herself to refuse, so she forced herself to nod.
She was like a gambler who had already lost but was still betting with bloodshot eyes.
She could only continue, to prove that she wasn’t wrong.
“Thank you, Chu Mo. You’re the best.”
Seeing Pei Yunqing’s happy expression, Chu Mo’s heart warmed.
With a wave of her hand, a plate of mung bean cakes was brought over.
“Try these quickly. These are the mung bean cakes you loved most as a child. I specially instructed them to make it this way.”
Pei Yunqing stiffened for a moment, then smiled brightly as he picked up his chopsticks, took a piece of mung bean cake, and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly.
“How is it?” Chu Mo asked expectantly.
“A bit too sweet…”
Pei Yunqing put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth rather forcefully with a handkerchief.
Too sweet?
Chu Mo picked up a piece and tasted it.
The flavor naturally wasn’t the same as from her childhood, but the sweetness level was about right.
Maybe his tastes had changed after growing up… Chu Mo comforted herself, though she felt a bit uncomfortable inside.
She watched as Pei Yunqing gracefully conversed with others while elegantly pushing the still-warm plate of cakes farther away.
The main hall was still resplendent with gold and jade, filled with lively chatter, yet Chu Mo found it somewhat grating.
The discomfort gradually turned into an indescribable sense of suffocation.
The bright moon was right beside her, yet she realized that the Yunqing from her childhood—who would smile so widely over half a mung bean cake—seemed to have completely died during that year of absence.
By the time the banquet ended, only two pieces had been taken from the plate of mung bean cakes.
Chu Mo’s thoughtful gesture sat alone amid the leftover food and cold dishes, looking almost mockingly pale under the lamplight.
…
The residence arranged for Mistveil Pavilion within Xuan Phoenix Sacred Sect consisted of several large, luxurious courtyards in the inner sect.
Pei Yunqing tugged at the corner of Chu Mo’s robe, his eyes red at the corners, his voice soft and weak.
“Chu Mo, every night I closed my eyes in the demon race, I was tormented by nightmares… Tonight, could you… not leave?”
Chu Mo had drunk quite a bit of wine and hadn’t used spiritual power to dispel the effects.
After all, whether for joy or sorrow, what she wanted was that dizzy, floating-on-clouds feeling.
Clearing it away would make things boring.
The slightly tipsy Chu Mo looked at Pei Yunqing, and her mind involuntarily began to compare.
This appearance… why isn’t it as good-looking as the little fox’s?
Especially those eyes.
When the little fox’s fox eyes gazed at her in a dazed, intoxicated state—whether filled with chaotic desire or bone-deep hatred—Chu Mo felt her bones turn to mush.
Pleasure shot straight from the base of her spine to her head, enough to shatter her reason completely.
This figure was lacking too.
The little fox was much taller than Pei Yunqing, especially those legs—tsk tsk, were those legs?
They were deadly scimitars. When she lifted the little fox, those long, white, tender legs would tremble wildly in the air, his jade-like round toes spreading and curling, curling and spreading.
Chu Mo swallowed hard.
Her lust was running high right now.
She muttered unconsciously, the words slipping out. “Why… don’t you resemble him at all?”
Pei Yunqing’s entire body stiffened. She? Or… he?
Chu Mo’s pupils contracted sharply.
The alcohol cleared from her mind in an instant.
Fear surged in her heart, but there was also a twisted pleasure of being soul-snatched by the little fox from afar right in front of Pei Yunqing—both ashamed and faintly excited.
Damn little fox! Chu Mo steadied her mind and said, “I got drunk and have a headache. I was just talking nonsense. Let’s go inside. You can massage my head for me.”
Pei Yunqing pressed his lips together, a cold glint in his eyes.
The two entered the courtyard in a strange, silent atmosphere.
In the pavilion, Chu Mo lay with her head on Pei Yunqing’s lap.
His jade-like hands gently massaged her head.
Pei Yunqing served her attentively, his fingertips full of flattery.
His skill in attending to others was something he had inherited perfectly from his mother, who had risen to power through her “gentleness.”
Chu Mo should have felt comfortable, but the more he massaged, the more irritated she became.
The fake headache she had made up seemed to have become real.
When they were children at Returning Cloud Mountain, was this the feeling?
Chu Mo closed her eyes, trying hard to recall.
That black-haired, white-robed older brother massaging her head—it must have felt like this, right?
Chu Mo forced reality to overlap with her memories, but the mismatched parts made her extremely restless.
She stood up abruptly, ignoring Pei Yunqing’s bewildered expression, and left behind a single sentence.
“It’s late. I should go.”
Watching the courtyard gate close, Pei Yunqing’s eyes darkened.
His hands clenched into fists, knuckles turning white.
…
The night breeze was slightly cool.
Chu Mo’s drunkenness seemed to have sobered up quite a bit.
“Sigh…” With a sigh, Chu Mo raised a hand to scratch her head.
She really was being ridiculous. With Yunqing back, why was she thinking about that little fox?
Just as she was about to lower her hand, Chu Mo suddenly spotted a white hair tucked conspicuously in the wrinkles of her sleeve.
Chu Mo’s mind stirred slightly.
If she hadn’t moved so vigorously, she probably wouldn’t have noticed it.
She plucked the white hair out and brought it to her nose, inhaling.
The floral scent filled her lungs, soothing her restlessness considerably.
Little fox, little fox.
The corners of Chu Mo’s mouth curved up unconsciously.
She opened her mouth, placed the white hair inside, and used her tongue to press it firmly against the roof of her mouth before slowly sliding it around.
Saliva instantly flooded her mouth.
The uncomfortable sensation of the foreign object made her want to spit it out, yet she couldn’t bear to.
The struggle caused the corners of Chu Mo’s eyes to crinkle slightly. She rather liked it.
Chu Mo spat out the white hair.
It was now coated in a layer of transparent, sticky fluid.
Her soft, wet tongue wrapped around it layer by layer.
Then, using both hands, she pulled the strand tight, the hair digging into her tongue—just like…
Bai Qingran clinging desperately to her, or the two of them twisted together, already inseparable.
A sickly flush appeared on Chu Mo’s face.
Hot breaths escaped from her mouth. She put the strand back into her mouth, biting it with her teeth and chewing it bit by bit.
A crazed, infatuated smile spread across her face, her eyes curving like crescent moons.
Gulp. She swallowed it down.
Chu Mo licked her scarlet lips in satisfaction.
Missing the little fox, huh.
Oh right, the little fox loved mung bean cakes.
Since they had been made, there was no point in wasting them.