Chapter 53
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Chapter 53: Title
Qiao Zhu knew her timing was poor. She’d deliberately chosen early morning to deliver the medicine, yet the occupants inside showed no sign of rising. A spiritual barrier blocked the door, leaving her stranded.
Holding the medicine bowl, she hesitated. She could guess what transpired yesterday. After all, the medicine for heart vein injury came from the Medicine Hall; she knew its… additional effects well.
Removing the barrier now risked disturbing their rest or witnessing something awkward. Yet leaving meant the young master’s heart vein injury might not heal with just the bottle inside…
As she wavered, Qiao Ren happened to pass under a nearby corridor.
Qiao Zhu’s eyes brightened. "Brother!" she called out brightly.
Qiao Ren felt instant foreboding. "Hmm?"
Ye Qingshang had been utterly exhausted. Her body felt leaden, resisting any movement. Deep sleep had claimed her, until sharp, repetitive sounds pierced the air – unmistakably the clashing of weapons infused with spiritual power. Even the barrier couldn’t muffle the irritating noise.
She stirred restlessly. Mu Huaiyun acted first, covering her ears before releasing a surge of spiritual power. The barrier shattered, the energy striking Qiao Ren mid-sword form.
Qiao Ren grunted, shooting his sister a resentful look: *Of course she needed a favor! All that talk about the morning being ideal and missing his ‘sword mastery’? She just loved landing him in trouble!*
Qiao Zhu offered a dry chuckle. "Brother, don’t be angry."
Inside, Mu Huaiyun’s expression darkened. He didn’t speak aloud, but his voice resonated mentally, *"What is it?"*
Seizing the chance, Qiao Zhu slipped inside. She placed the medicine bowl down silently, mentally replying, *"Young master, the decoction is prepared. Remember to take it."* Then, with an I-saw-nothing expression, she retreated, carefully closing the door behind her.
Ye Qingshang rolled over, fully awake now.
The movement shifted the quilt, revealing distinct marks on her neck. Mu Huaiyun’s gaze deepened as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. "Sleep a little longer?"
Ye Qingshang hooked her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to bury her face against his shoulder. "No need," she murmured softly. "Ah Yun needs his medicine, doesn’t he? Let me feed you."
Mu Huaiyun encircled her waist with one arm, her softness pressed against him. "Qingshang tired herself out last night. Don’t push yourself. I can manage."
Ye Qingshang shook her head. "Hmm… I’ll do it."
"Take it slow." Mu Huaiyun couldn’t stop her. He watched as Ye Qingshang got out of bed, her inner garment flowing down like silk, concealing her graceful figure.
She carried the medicine bowl to the bedside and was about to feed him when she seemed to recall something. Pausing, her expression stiffened as she asked, "This medicine… has no other effects, right?"
Mu Huaiyun chuckled softly. "None."
That was good. Ye Qingshang sighed with relief. If it repeated yesterday’s intensity, she doubted she could endure it. Though dual cultivation aided cultivation, it couldn’t replace proper practice.
She blew on the medicine to cool it and spoon-fed Mu Huaiyun until the bowl emptied. Then she produced candy from somewhere, its refreshing sweetness making Mu Huaiyun’s gaze soften further.
Such tender days stretched on until Ye Qingshang almost felt time might stop. Over a month later, Mu Huaiyun’s heart vein injury healed completely, his spiritual power flowing unimpeded. Watching him wield Moon’s Shadow, Ye Qingshang felt her hands itch and summoned Qianyu, tangling it tightly with Moon’s Shadow.
Mu Huaiyun frowned. "Qingshang, what are you doing?"
Ye Qingshang spun to land nearby, smiling. "After four years, our cultivation has advanced greatly. We haven’t sparred in so long—why not duel today?"
Mu Huaiyun sighed. "You truly wish to compete?"
His past self would’ve agreed instantly, but now…
"Yes." Ye Qingshang answered promptly, mischief flashing in her eyes. "Every match needs stakes. If I win, you owe me a promise. If I lose, I give myself to you."
Before Mu Huaiyun could respond, she channeled thirty percent of her spiritual power into Qianyu. The sudden surge overwhelmed Moon’s Shadow, dimming its silver glow.
Qianyu spun sharply under Ye Qingshang’s control, suppressing Moon’s Shadow completely. Enraged, Moon’s Shadow radiated killing intent, ready to unleash a lethal strike.
Mu Huaiyun frowned deeper. "Qingshang, Moon’s Shadow was once your spiritual weapon. It’s too proud to accept defeat. Aren’t you afraid its spirit might rage out of control and harm you?"
Ye Qingshang lifted her chin. "Not afraid."
She abruptly withdrew her spiritual power from Qianyu, retracting the sword entirely. Cornered and furious, Moon’s Shadow’s power flared wildly—only to find its opponent gone. It froze mid-air, ignoring Mu Huaiyun’s summons.
Seizing Moon’s Shadow’s distraction, Ye Qingshang seized its tail and yanked it toward Mu Huaiyun. As the spiritual weapon returned to its master, she tumbled into Mu Huaiyun’s embrace.
She looked up, eyes bright. "I lost."
Mu Huaiyun shook his head fondly. "You… You were taming Moon’s Shadow for me, weren’t you?"
Ye Qingshang retorted, "I only remembered how it tormented me in my past life and wanted to teach it a lesson—not for your sake. Don’t flatter yourself."
"Oh?" Mu Huaiyun tightened his hold, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke firmly. "My father returns to the sect soon. I’ll take you to meet him."
"Really?" Ye Qingshang pushed back slightly to study his face, but a shadow fell over them. Before she could speak, his heated breath enveloped her.
Breathless, her face burned. Every sensation came from him. Her lips’ feeble resistance crumbled as he deepened the kiss, stinging her eyes until they glistened with dazed intoxication.
Lost in passion, they forgot their surroundings. Though others rarely entered Mu Huaiyun’s quarters, an intruder would surely be someone close—like old friend Qiao Zhu, or his father Mu Shezhi, who wasn’t due back for fifteen days.
Mu Shezhi stood nearby, observing their entangled forms. He cleared his throat lightly.
