Chapter 55

Chapter 55: Title

"A’shang." On the steps, Qiu Huayi smiled at her.

Ye Qingshang had sent a message to Qiu Huayi before leaving on her sword, telling her she was returning to the sect, so Qiu Huayi had been waiting at the entrance.

Of course, she should have informed Ning Jiwei about bringing Mu Huaiyun to see her master, but given her master’s temperament, Ye Qingshang didn’t dare just send a letter and decided to meet him face-to-face.

"Where is my master now?"

Qiu Huayi linked arms with her and said, "Elder Ning is in the conference hall. You can’t see him right now, so why not wait at his residence?"

"Alright," Ye Qingshang replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Qiu Huayi glancing back. Pretending to be annoyed, she glared and asked, "What are you looking at?"

Qiu Huayi chuckled, realizing she’d overstepped, and looked away. "I was thinking—is the person A’shang mentioned when drunk really Young Master Mu?"

Mu Huaiyun caught the word "drunk" and asked, "What drunkenness?"

"It was four years ago at Yunshan Sect, before Young Master Mu entered meditation. A’shang—"

"Cough, cough…" Ye Qingshang subtly tugged Qiu Huayi’s sleeve, making her stop. She truly couldn’t recall her drunken words, and when Qiu Huayi later mentioned it, she’d been speechless. Such an awkward matter shouldn’t reach Mu Huaiyun.

Mu Huaiyun was about to press when Ye Qingshang cut in, "We’re here. This is my master’s residence."

Qiu Huayi glanced between them and smiled. "Young Master Mu rarely visits Frostbite Sect. A’shang must host him well—I won’t intrude. Besides, Elder Ning has been cheerful lately. If A’shang speaks gently, he’ll likely agree."

"Young Master Mu is outstanding, flawless in character and grace—a perfect match for A’shang. I’ll… await their wedding wine?"

Her teasing tone made Ye Qingshang flush with embarrassment. "Enough. If you’re busy, don’t linger—go."

Qiu Huayi shook her head, thinking A’shang had grown even more bashful since finding love.

After Qiu Huayi left, the pair waited about the time it takes to burn an incense stick before Ning Jiwei arrived.

Ye Qingshang spoke carefully, omitting her past life while explaining her bond with Mu Huaiyun. Ning Jiwei listened lightly, his expression unreadable, though closer inspection showed no displeasure.

Hesitantly, Ye Qingshang asked, "Master… do you approve?"

Ning Jiwei replied impassively, "My approval matters little. Your heart’s choice is yours alone. You joined us orphaned—I cannot decide your marriage. Choose freely."

His lack of refusal brightened Ye Qingshang’s eyes. Boldly, she pressed, "Then… may Ah Yun stay at Frostbite Sect for a few days?"

Ning Jiwei said, "As you wish."

In her past life, Mu Huaiyun had seldom seen Ning Jiwei. Those rare meetings left him thinking the man was icy and aloof, indifferent to all but Ye Qingshang. He’d believed her uniquely special to Ning Jiwei—yet now, the reaction was so calm?

Not even a word of caution. His expression was placid as still water, utterly detached… Why?

"Ah Yun, let’s go." Ye Qingshang squeezed his fingertips. Why stare at her master? Did he not fear Master Ning might change his mind and expel him?

Mu Huaiyun shifted his gaze and clasped her hand. He chided himself for overthinking—questioning Master Ning? With a resigned smile, he followed her away.

The room settled into silence.

Ning Jiwei watched their departure, still for a moment. Then he flicked a strand of spiritual power toward the courtyard tree. Leaves scattered as a voice rang out, "Master Ning, such grandeur for a dead leaf—is it worthy of your effort?"

Ning Jiwei turned, his gaze cold and averted. "The leaf is not. You are."

Fu Chouyi materialized, scowling. "I am your senior brother. Must you always greet me so coldly? Do I offend you?"

Ning Jiwei snorted. "Senior brother? Eavesdropping like a spy befits no brother."

Fu Chouyi scoffed, "Hah… You only show such fierceness to me. Would you dare act this way with your little disciple?"

Ning Jiwei frowned. "It’s not what you imagine."

"Oh? Not what I imagine? Then what is it? Tell me, your little disciple has found a beloved and may soon marry. Don’t you harbor any other thoughts?"

Fu Chouyi leaned closer, resting a hand on Ning Jiwei’s shoulder. "Or do you intend to hide these feelings forever, never letting her know? Bearing such grievance isn’t your style."

Ning Jiwei calmly removed Fu Chouyi’s hand. "I’ve told you—my relationship with Qingshang isn’t what you suppose. It’s entirely different from your situation."

"Hey, you—" Before Fu Chouyi could finish, Ning Jiwei shut the door, leaving him visibly displeased. The phrase "entirely different" pierced him, leaving him stunned for a long moment.

Clasping his hands behind his back, he murmured in confusion, "He treats her with closeness, devotes himself wholeheartedly, yet refuses to admit anything. Can this truly not be affection? Is it merely master-disciple bond?"

Fu Chouyi shook his head. No one would answer his question. No matter how curious he was, he had to let it go.

Four days later, Mu Shezhi personally rushed to Frostbite Sect upon receiving the message, bearing lavish gifts to propose marriage for his son. Gold, silver, fine silks, pills, and treasures piled high outside the room. Mu Shezhi adopted an air of dignified propriety.

Ning Jiwei said little, proceeding methodically through the discussions. Ultimately, they agreed to set the wedding between her and Mu Huaiyun three months hence.

That evening, Mu Shezhi departed Frostbite Sect while Mu Huaiyun remained.

Ye Qingshang leaned against the doorway, smiling radiantly. When he approached, his steps seemed to tread on moonlight—gentle and luminous. "Ah Yun," she called.

As he drew near, she looped her arms around his neck. "After these three months, we’ll bind our hair as husband and wife, our love eternal. Ah Yun, does this please you?"

"Yes." Mu Huaiyun pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, his gaze painting a scene of deep devotion. "I’ve awaited this moment since our first meeting."

Lowering his eyes to her lips, his voice dropped to a low, mesmerizing murmur. "Seeing how pitiful I am, won’t you reward me tonight?"