A max-level player in Jade Dynasty: Awakening the Innate Dao at the start.

On the second floor of the restaurant, by the railing, Youji's gaze was like an invisible needle.

It landed gently on the young man from Qingyun downstairs who was holding a black stick.

That wasn't a casual glance, but a scrutinizing gaze.

The gaze seemed to penetrate the skin and reach the very core.

She called out for the third time, her voice slightly deeper than before: "Biyao."

This sound was already a reminder.

Biyao pouted her rosy lips and finally let go of the railing.

As she turned, the emerald green hem of her skirt rippled slightly, and her tone softened unconsciously.

With a hint of coquetry, she said, "Aunt You, I'll be good, okay?"

The way she called out "Aunt You" was soft and sweet.

Since the incident at Qingyun Mountain years ago, the Ghost King Sect Master's wife has passed away.

Youji became Biyao's closest and most trusted elder.

On the surface, she is a protector of the Dharma, but in reality, she is also like a mother and sister.

She was one of the few sources of warmth and support in this seemingly vast but actually lonely sect.

At this moment, however, Youji's thoughts were not entirely focused on Biyao.

Her gaze remained, seemingly unnoticed, fixed on the seemingly ordinary Qingyun disciple downstairs.

In that brief moment of eye contact, a distant yet familiar stirring stirred within a long-dormant corner of my heart—

Like a dull knife, it inadvertently scrapes over old, worn-out scars.

It didn't hurt much, but it brought a lingering, uncomfortable tingling and itching sensation all over the body.

That feeling... how could it be?

Surprisingly, three hundred years ago, on the shores of the East China Sea...

Wan Jianyi, whose white robes were stained with blood but whose eyes still shone with an astonishing brilliance...

The impact of looking back at her was so similar?

absurd.

Youji immediately suppressed the strange turmoil in her heart.

The boy was only fourteen or fifteen years old, with an average appearance and plain clothes.

The weapon in his hand was crude and ugly, resembling a fire poker.

The three companions all carried immortal swords and possessed extraordinary bearing.

He alone, carrying a short, black stick, blended in among them, looking like a servant who had mistakenly entered a group of immortals.

How could such a person be the successor of Wan Jianyi?

It must be because he has been restless lately, and then he saw the Qingyun Sect members, that he has developed such an absurd illusion.

She took one last, deep look, and gently tapped her fingertips twice on the smooth wooden railing.

The crisp sound seemed to shatter those inappropriate associations.

Then, she turned nimbly, her wide black robe trailing behind her as she walked down the wooden stairs.

Silently, Biyao, still somewhat unwilling, disappeared into the shadows deep within the corridor.

In the hall on the first floor, several oil lamps cast long shadows of the four people.

Projected onto the wall, it swayed and wobbled as the light flickered on and off.

Zeng Shushu picked up a thinly sliced ​​piece of braised beef, but her eyes couldn't help but glance at the now empty stairwell.

A sly, gossipy grin spread across his face.

"Junior Brother Zhang, I was so amazed by what I saw that my eyes almost popped out."

"What's up? Those two beauties upstairs, one tall and one short, each with their own unique charm, which one have you taken a fancy to?"

Zhang Xiaofan didn't touch his chopsticks.

His gaze completely shifted from the empty stairwell to Zeng Shushu.

The carefree look in his eyes had long since vanished, leaving only a calm seriousness:

"Senior Brother Zeng, those two are probably not simple people."

"Not simple?" Zeng Shushu's chopsticks stopped in mid-air, and the beef almost fell back into the plate.

Qi Hao, who had been silently drinking tea, put down his celadon teacup.

The bottom of the bowl made a dull, soft sound as it touched the wooden table.

"Zhang Xiaofan is right."

Qi Hao lowered his voice, with his usual caution, as if afraid of being overheard.

"I have participated in several operations to suppress the evil cult with my master and have seen many demons."

The woman in black walked with an extremely steady gait, her breathing long and shallow, almost imperceptible.

His aura was perfectly harmonious, indicating that his cultivation was at least at the Upper Clarity Realm, which was by no means ordinary.

The girl in the green dress, seemingly innocent and carefree, spoke without restraint.

But those eyes were too bright and cunning, a quality that could not be cultivated in an ordinary family.

He paused, then drew a faint line on the table with his finger, as if drawing a boundary:

"The most suspicious thing is that they knew we were wearing Qingyun Taoist robes."

They were disciples of the Qingyun Sect who had descended the mountain, yet they still dared to speak so disrespectfully and even deliberately provoke others.

There are only two possibilities: either their backing is so powerful that they have nothing to fear from Qingyun;

Or...?

He raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the three people present, and slowly uttered his conclusion:

"They are members of the Demonic Sect and hold a high position, which is why they dare to be so fearless."

Zhang Xiaofan suddenly clapped his hands twice.

The applause was crisp and clear, sounding particularly abrupt in the otherwise quiet hall.

"Senior Brother Qi has a good eye."

A slight smile played at the corners of his lips, but the smile didn't reach his eyes; instead, it carried a hint of cold admiration.

"Aside from this peculiar habit of harboring inappropriate thoughts towards my senior sister Ling'er, who just turned sixteen."

Aside from being utterly despicable, your brain is actually quite capable when it comes to analyzing enemy situations.

Qi Hao's face instantly turned from white to green, and then from green to red.

His hand, which was under the table, suddenly curled up, his knuckles turning bluish-white from the force.

A surge of humiliation and anger welled up in his chest and rose to his throat.

It was almost bursting forth uncontrollably—

However, a lingering, not fully healed, pain emanated from my left rib area.

Like a cold, poisoned needle, it precisely pierced his boiling anger.

On the Seven Sects Martial Arts Tournament stage, when that seemingly insignificant black stick broke ribs,

That overwhelming, irresistible pain and sense of powerlessness resurfaced with unparalleled clarity.

He took a deep breath, expelling the pent-up anger that threatened to explode.

He swallowed it back down, letting it sink into his dantian and turn into a cold, icy mass.

We can't beat them.

You can't win.

Even... it's impossible to argue with that.

This is not cowardice. Qi Hao emphasized to himself in his heart, this is just... a wise choice.

Faced with an absolute disparity in strength, pointless bravado is nothing but self-humiliation.

"Since everyone knows the answer."

Zhang Xiaofan gently tapped the table with the bamboo chopsticks in his hand.

It made a soft "tap-tap" sound, as if placing a piece in chess.

"Then let's set out a charter."

Even if their identities are suspicious, what does it matter to our mission of going down the mountain for training?

The investigation of the Ten Thousand Bats Cave and the search for the Vampire Demon are not directly related.

It's better to avoid trouble than to cause unnecessary problems.

He raised his eyes, his gaze calmly sweeping over the other three:

"We must set off as soon as possible tomorrow morning and head to the Wanfu Ancient Cave in Kongsang Mountain."

"Investigate the situation and return to the mountain to report. That's the important thing."

Qi Hao suddenly stood up.

The chair legs scraped against the ground, making a short, sharp, piercing sound.

It shattered the atmosphere that had just calmed down.

"Zhang Xiaofan." His voice was cold and hard, carrying suppressed dissatisfaction.

Before we went down the mountain, my senior uncle, Master Daoxuan, made it clear that I was in charge of leading the team.

When...is it your turn to make the decision?

Zhang Xiaofan did not get up.

He didn't even look up at Qi Hao; he simply put down his chopsticks slowly and very steadily.

Then, he shook his right hand.

The five fingers are clenched together, the knuckles interlaced, producing a series of crisp yet chilling "clucking" sounds.

The sound wasn't loud, but in the suddenly silent hall, it was so clear that it sent a shiver down Zeng Shushu's spine.

"Senior Brother Qi." Zhang Xiaofan finally looked up.

His gaze was as calm as a bottomless pool, fixed directly on Qi Hao. "You... you're not convinced?"

Almost instinctively, Qi Hao's hand pressed against his aching left rib again.

The wound was still a reminder to him.

He stared intently into Zhang Xiaofan's eyes, the scene on the arena flashing uncontrollably through his mind again—

Even as the black stick came crashing down, the other person's eyes remained calm and unwavering.

There was no murderous intent, no anger, not even much emotion, only a pure, despair-inducing crushing power.

Like a massive boulder rolling down during a landslide, it presses down indifferently and unstoppably, completely unconcerned about who is being crushed beneath it.

"...You can do it." Qi Hao said through his almost clenched teeth.

He squeezed out two dry words, then slowly, with a resigned air of dejection, sat back down.

His back was ramrod straight. "You're the one who decides."

Zeng Shushu gave a dry laugh and quickly tried to smooth things over:

"Oh dear, we're all fellow disciples, why ruin our harmony? Let's talk things out, let's talk things out..."

His words came to an abrupt end.

Because he saw the look in Zhang Xiaofan's eyes when he looked at Qi Hao.

A complex and elusive emotion flashed through his mind—

There seemed to be a hint of...appreciation in it?

"Senior Brother Qi." Zhang Xiaofan's tone suddenly softened, no longer as sharp as before.

"Your cultivation is solid, your experience is profound, and you always handle matters with thoroughness and composure. You should be the best candidate to lead this group down the mountain. However—"

He paused, his voice softening, yet each word reached Qi Hao's ears clearly:

"But you shouldn't have had those inappropriate thoughts about Senior Sister Ling'er."

She's only sixteen years old this year, and she's still a child with a pure heart.

If you are upright, courteous, and pursue your goals openly and honestly, perhaps I will think more highly of you.

But if I find out that you dare to use any underhanded methods, or harbor any frivolous thoughts…”

Zhang Xiaofan smiled.

The smile was faint, yet it made the hairs on the back of Qi Hao's neck stand on end instantly, and a chill ran up his spine.

"I promise you'll regret ever being born."

As darkness fell completely, the lights of Heyang City began to illuminate the city one by one.

After the four finished dinner, the view outside the window was completely different.

The dim, yellowish light shone through the windows of every household, spreading across the wet flagstones and softening the night with a gentle, dreamlike quality.

The distant clamor did not cease with the deepening of night; instead, it exuded a different kind of vitality—

The shouts of drinkers playing drinking games, the drawn-out cries of late-night food vendors, and the faint sounds of string and wind instruments drifting from somewhere—all these sounds filled the air.

The sounds mingled together, drifting in and out through the courtyard wall.

Qi Hao pushed aside the bowl and chopsticks in front of him and stood up first:

"This place is not as peaceful as Qingyun Mountain."

The heretics of the demonic cult may be lurking nearby; it's best to be cautious.

Go back to your rooms and rest early; we'll set off at dawn tomorrow.

Zhang Xiaofan nodded in agreement: "Okay."

Zeng Shushu stretched lazily and waved his hand dismissively:

"Senior Brother Qi, you're being too cautious."

Heyang City has been under the protection of the Qingyun Sect for many years and has always been peaceful. What could possibly happen? Don't scare yourself.

The four people left the table one after another.

Qi Hao and Zeng Shushu walked side by side toward the guest rooms under the east corridor.

Zhang Xiaofan turned and walked alone towards the west side.

Passing through a small moon gate at the back of the hall, you enter a quiet backyard, no bigger than a few inches in size.

A few clumps of night-blooming jasmine were casually planted in the yard, their appearance unremarkable during the day.

But now, under the hazy moonlight, it quietly blooms, releasing a rich, almost cloying fragrance.

The fragrance wafted in wisps, like living vines, clinging to the hems of one's clothes and the tips of one's hair, lingering there.

Zhang Xiaofan walked to the center of the courtyard and stopped.

He didn't turn around, but calmly addressed the empty courtyard: "Come out."

Behind the pillars, the darkness shrouded in the shadows of the eaves shifted almost imperceptibly.

A figure, as serene and aloof as moonlight, slowly emerged from the shadows.

The moonlight, like mercury spilling onto the ground, gently draped over her shoulders, making her moon-white Taoist robe appear even more pristine and otherworldly.

Lu Xueqi's face was expressionless, her skin was almost transparent white in the moonlight, with a warm yet cold luster like mutton fat jade.

She had been waiting here for a long time.

From the moment he withdrew his "Demon Slayer" technique from the Seven Sects Martial Arts Tournament arena, choosing to suffer the backlash himself rather than seriously injure her,

This question was like a tiny thorn, deeply embedded in her heart.

That day, she clearly saw how terrifying the power of the backlash from the Demon-Slaying Sword was, yet he endured it head-on.

In addition, two years ago, on the Moon-Gazing Terrace, he quietly and without reservation delivered the supreme Buddhist teaching of Tianyin Temple, the Great Brahma Prajna...

Kindness upon kindness, mercy upon mercy.

One incident after another, like tangled threads, stirred up her usually clear and calm mind into chaos.

She needs answers.

So she stubbornly waited there, in the quiet of the night, in the fragrant backyard, determined to get to the bottom of it.

Zhang Xiaofan turned around and saw Lu Xueqi pacing anxiously in the silvery moonlight.

She walked very slowly, one step, two steps, and stopped on the third step.

Her delicate brows furrowed slightly, as if she didn't know how to speak, so she turned back.

Her moon-white skirt swayed gently with her movements, trailing softly on the stone pavement like ripples spreading across a moonlit pond.

"Senior Sister Lu," Zhang Xiaofan spoke, breaking the slightly heavy silence.

"If you keep spinning like this, I'm going to get dizzy."

Lu Xueqi suddenly stopped in her tracks.

She looked up at him, and in those always clear and calm eyes...

The moonlight, so clear and bright, seemed exceptionally pure, yet also carried a rare air of bewilderment.

"Zhang Xiaofan." She spoke very softly, as if afraid of disturbing the quiet night.

Yet every word was clear and unavoidable.

"On the day of the Seven Peaks Martial Arts Tournament, you could have won much more decisively."

If the "Slaying Demons and Gods" technique is used with full force, I have no chance of withstanding it and will undoubtedly be defeated.

But at the last moment, you forcibly withdrew your sword, preferring to suffer the backlash yourself—why?

The question was finally raised, like a pebble thrown into a seemingly calm lake of the heart, awaiting its echo.

Zhang Xiaofan remained silent for a moment.

A night breeze rustled through the air, making the clusters of night-blooming jasmine in the corner of the courtyard even more fragrant.

"Because," he finally spoke, his tone as flat as if he were discussing the weather or the saltiness of the food.

"You can't withstand that sword strike."

Lu Xueqi was taken aback, clearly not expecting such an answer.

"So?" she asked instinctively, wanting a clearer explanation.

Therefore, I cannot kill him.

Zhang Xiaofan looked at her and smiled faintly, a smile that seemed to carry a sense of matter-of-fact composure.

"It's that simple."

Lu Xueqi pursed her pale lips.

This answer... is too simple, so simple it's almost perfunctory, like a piece of nonsense given evasively.

But if you calm down and think about it carefully—if she really couldn't withstand it, his sword strike...

She won, but it was an unfair victory, and it could have seriously injured her or even damaged her cultivation.

He was unwilling to do so, so he preferred to be injured rather than give up his sword.

This logic... seems to make sense.

But this overly "reasonable" explanation made her feel a sense of emptiness and loss in a certain part of her heart.

It was as if what she had been waiting for for so long was not just such a calm and almost ruthless "tactical judgment".

Lu Xueqi involuntarily took two steps forward.

The distance between the two suddenly shortened.

As she approached, Zhang Xiaofan could clearly smell a faint, cool fragrance emanating from her, completely different from the sweet floral scent in the courtyard.

It smelled like the scent of a pine forest after a snowfall, crisp and distant.

She lowered her voice, speaking softly and gently, her breath sweet as orchids:

"What about the Moon-Viewing Terrace?"

Zhang Xiaofan's eyes flickered almost imperceptibly.

"Two years ago, at the Moon-Viewing Platform on Tongtian Peak, why did you secretly pass on to me the supreme Buddhist teaching of Tianyin Temple, the Great Brahma Prajna?"

Lu Xueqi's voice became even softer, as soft as a whisper in an ear, yet it carried an unmistakable determination.

"We both know that those are the secret techniques of another sect. To teach them in private is a serious crime of betraying one's sect."

If the sect leader or my master finds out...

"I know," Zhang Xiaofan calmly interrupted her.

He looked into her eyes, so close to his own, into those clear pupils...

At this moment, a small shadow belonging to him was clearly reflected, trembling slightly with her emotions.

"Then why send it?" Lu Xueqi pressed, her cool voice trembling.

It carried a hint of urgency that she herself was unaware of.

Zhang Xiaofan suddenly smiled.

The smile was faint and fleeting, yet it was like a real pebble thrown into the lake of her heart.

It spread out in tiny ripples, making her uneasy.

"Because I wanted to give it to him," he said, his tone as casual as if he were talking about seeing a pretty flower today, "so I gave it to him."

Lu Xueqi was completely stunned.

That night, she imagined countless possible answers—perhaps he recognized her exceptional talent and cherished it;

Perhaps he had ulterior motives or other plans;

Perhaps it was just a momentary whim of a young person, acting impulsively without considering the consequences.

But I never imagined the answer would be so... simple, casual, and even absurd.

Because I wanted to, I did it.

There was no careful planning, no weighing of pros and cons, and no consideration of the consequences.

Like a child who has never experienced the world, seeing a breathtaking flower blooming on the edge of a cliff.

Thinking it looked nice, they disregarded the danger and picked it off.

I only wanted to give it to the person I thought was the best, and I never thought about whether the flower had thorns.

Is it a forbidden area? What kind of storm will it bring if it is picked?

"You..." Lu Xueqi opened her mouth, but it felt like something was blocking her throat.

All the questions and analyses I had prepared seemed pale and powerless at this moment.

She suddenly realized that all her waiting that night, her inner turmoil, and all the myriad thoughts she had tried to unravel...

Faced with the phrase "because I wanted to give it to you," everything else becomes a laughable and futile struggle.

She thought she would find a clear thread that could connect all the tangled thoughts in her mind and help her sort things out.

But what the other party gave her was a softer, more chaotic, and more incomprehensible fog.

The moonlight was silent, quietly shining on the two people standing opposite each other, casting long shadows.

The distant hustle and bustle of the street could be faintly heard through the courtyard wall, hazy and indistinct, as if it came from another world completely unrelated to the tranquility of the moment.

The sweet fragrance of night-blooming jasmine grows stronger in the silence, almost cloyingly so, lingering in the air.

Lu Xueqi subconsciously took a half step back.

She stared at Zhang Xiaofan for a long time.

After a long time, a thin cloud drifted in quietly, temporarily obscuring the bright moon.

The light and shadow in the courtyard suddenly dimmed for a moment, blurring his silhouette in the shadows.

"What kind of answer is that?"

She finally spoke again, her voice revealing a rare, unfamiliar confusion and helplessness.

"Zhang Xiaofan, you...you've really confused me."

Those words fell lightly.

It falls into the soft moonlight, and into the floating fragrance of flowers.

It also landed in the deepest part of Zhang Xiaofan's dark eyes, rippling out a very faint, gentle smile that was hard to detect.

He offered no explanation, no comfort, and no attempt to untangle the mess he had created with his own hands.

He simply turned around, his back to her, and waved casually.

"It's late, Senior Sister Lu should get some rest."

Footsteps echoed on the bluestone slabs, unhurried and measured.

They walked further and further away, eventually disappearing around the corner leading to the west guest room corridor.

Lu Xueqi stood alone in the center of the courtyard, her cold gaze following the figure until he completely disappeared into the darkness under the corridor.

Just then, a thin cloud that had been obscuring the moon drifted by, and the clear moonlight shone down again, illuminating the entire courtyard of stone slabs with a silvery-white radiance.

She still didn't understand.

That thorn still seems to linger in my heart.

But for some reason, looking at that empty corridor,

The slight stinging sensation in my chest seems... really, not so sharp anymore.

On the second floor, behind the window of an unlit guest room, Yu Ji stood quietly in the deep shadows.

Her gaze passed over the low wall of the backyard.

They held onto that receding figure, which eventually disappeared.

The brief yet subtly turbulent scene in the moonlit courtyard just now...

From beginning to end, everything fell into her eyes.

The woman in black unconsciously traced the cold wooden window frame with her fingertips.

Her beautiful brows were furrowed, forming a shallow "川" (river) shape between them.

That damned, lingering sense of familiarity surged up once again.

It's not a resemblance in appearance, nor an overlap in physique, but something deeper, something more ineffable—

It was his seemingly casual yet rock-solid posture when he held the "stick";

It was the crisp, clean arc of his clothes as he turned around;

It was his tone of voice, seemingly casual on the surface, yet each word carried immense power, capable of captivating the mind and spirit.

It's so similar.

He looked exactly like the white-clad man from three hundred years ago, whose sword strike astonished the world and terrified the entire Demonic Sect.

"Impossible..." Yu Ji murmured to herself, her voice as soft as a sigh, fading into the silent room.

But her hands, clad in black gauze gloves and always as steady as a rock,

At this moment, however, it began to tremble slightly, uncontrollably.

She brushed away the accumulated dust on the window frame with her fingertips.

It drifted away silently in the moonlight streaming through the window.