Ma Yuan engraved Yang Qing's words into his heart and resud his ditation, carefully combing through his cultivation and the experience born from his spar with Peng Zhen. So ti passed before he finally felt he had gained enough insight for the day. He stood up, cupped his fists toward Yang Qing in gratitude, and left for Chief Song Chuan's abode.
"Has this place ever been so silent?" murmured Yang Qing as he looked around, taking in the gentle silence.
For as long as he could rember, ever since he had gotten the abode, it had always been full of activity. In the early days, it was mostly his family, particularly his mother, who kept worrying excessively if Yang Qing would be able to live on his own.
Had Yang Qing been a normal young man, he would have puffed his chest in defiance at her remark, launching into a tirade of words about how he was a man and perfectly capable of living on his own.
But Yang Qing was not what one would exactly consider normal.
He capitalized on the situation, painting himself as a weakling unfamiliar with the ways of the world, all to get his mother to bring him her cooking every day. The sche worked perfectly and would have continued to work had his grandfather not blurted out one evening, while drunk, how her visits would likely leave Yang Qing single for a very long ti, and quite possibly rob her of the chance of being a grandmother. A fate that drained the color from his mother's face.
From that mont, she stopped coming over or delivering als to him, forcing Yang Qing to co for them personally at the clan's grounds. Even then, because of her fear of not becoming a grandmother, she restricted the visits to only three tis a week, or an entire week, or even a month—if Yang Qing brought soone over.
It went without saying, as much as it pained him, he made the executive decision to be a man and visit his mother only three tis a week. He needed his independence after all.
He also made sure to keep that grudge etched carefully in his heart.
One day, his grandfather would pay for his loose tongue and the other things he did, and who knows, maybe out of filial piety, he would do his father a favor too.
To this day, he still believes that comnt was a deliberate sche on his grandfather's part and not just the careless remarks of an inebriated old man.
The reason for that suspicion was that from that day on, every ti Yang Qing decided to visit his mother, his grandfather would coincidentally be around, conveniently taking a well-needed break from his devilish experints—only to rope Yang Qing into one of said experints during dinner, lunch, or even breakfast.
He wasn't sure how, but his grandfather always seed to know when he was visiting, and to this day, he still didn't know how.
In his younger years, he had suspected his grandfather had done sothing to his body during the body refinent stage. After all, the old man's son... his father, had once run away. Maybe to prevent his grandson from becoming like his father, the old man did sothing to him so he could track him and bring him back in case he tried to pull a disappearing act.
"If I hadn't gained a peerless jade physique, reaching the supposed peak of the body refinent realm, would my grandfather have even allowed to join the Order?" Yang Qing muttered as he gazed at the clear sky. His gaze drifted over to the moon, which, for so reason, seed to morph into the images of his grandfather and the other Yang clan elders.
They were bathed in silver light, giving them a saintly aura, but their eyes... their eyes shone with a devilish glint as if answering Yang Qing's suspicions.
"Devils," Yang Qing agitatedly said as he waved his hand, trying to wash away the phantoms from the moon.
"Devils?"
A serene, lodious voice sounded behind him, bringing him much-needed relief as he smiled.
"Mao Mao... Seems like soone finally rembered to visit her forr supervisor?" Yang Qing quipped as he turned to face the young lady, dressed in celestial beauty—her hair like the purple heavens, her eyes like heavenly clouds, her skin like the moon's splendor, and her smile like the sky's starry ocean.
"Says the supervisor who forgets his star pupil," Mao Mao said with an angry pout, taking liberties as she grabbed Yang Qing's wine jar before taking the seat opposite him.
The lack of any apparent reaction from Yang Qing showed that this wasn't her first ti doing such a thing.
"So, what devils are haunting you now?" Mao Yunru asked as she uncorked the wine jar, taking a direct swig from it.
"Supervisor Lei... Your clan? ... Your grandfather? ... The case assigners? ... Your dwindling storage ring and finances? ... Lord Weaver and the nest?" Mao Yunru guessed between sips, each guess a verbal dagger to Yang Qing's gut.
"A woman perhaps..." she softly said, her voice carrying a nacing aura that made Yang Qing flinch and trip on his seat.
"W-What woman?!" Yang Qing hurriedly exclaid, standing up, then awkwardly sitting back down.
"What woman?" he added once more, his voice now more even, unlike the earlier shriek.
"You really need to cut down on your 'extracurriculars,' Mao Mao. They're clouding your senses," said Yang Qing as he grabbed the wine jar from Mao Yunru's hands, snorting indignantly as he did so.
"So people," Yang Qing softly muttered as he shook his head, throwing a secretive glance at Mao Yunru.
"Fine, I'm sorry," Mao Yunru chuckled slightly, clearly amused.
"Words are cheap. If you're sorry, you should show it."
"Really?" Mao Yunru raised her eyebrows, an amused smile tugging at her lips, as she leaned slightly closer to Yang Qing.
Even though he was taken aback by her boldness, Yang Qing didn't shrink back. He leaned forward himself, a re two inches of air and warm breath separating the two.
"Really," he whispered.
The way their eyes trembled showed clearly that both were shaken and out of their depths, despite the bold front they were putting up.
At this point, what kept them from stumbling over like their rapidly beating hearts were urging them to, was sheer spite.
Neither could show weakness, or the other would never let them live it down. Thus, the standoff began, where seconds felt like years, and their bodies seed to weigh as much as primordial mountains.
Yang Qing could have sworn his heartbeat caused the table to shake, but maybe it was just his shaking hands... or dizziness... he wasn't sure anymore.
Eventually, he couldn't take it any longer.
"If I die, I die," he scread inwardly, bracing himself for whatever might co.
Smack
Before both could pass out from dizziness and racing hearts, a warm sensation, like an electric current, traveled from their interlocked lips.
Their minds blanked. As if of one mind, a few seconds later, both gently separated and sat back in their seats, shock evident on their faces at what had just transpired.
A deafening silence followed. The birds and insects around them seed to have sensed the mood and contributed to the awkwardness that clung heavily in the air around Yang Qing's abode.
The only saving grace was that no one else was around to witness it... At least, no humans.
"Seems like you've decided to find a mate, you stingy idiot. Don't expect any free wedding gifts from ... Well, maybe I'll reconsider and give you a feather or two for your wedding robe if you call big brother Weaver.
What do you say, Little Brother Qing?"
Yang Qing didn't have ti to bask in the glory of his bravery before a foul-mouthed bird shattered the mont.
With a large vein throbbing on his forehead, Yang Qing gnashed his teeth as he turned to face the hateful bird, which floated gracefully from atop the green fla tree, bathed in radiant celestial light, its eyes gleaming with endless wisdom.
"Will you die if you don't talk nonsense?" Yang Qing snarled through gritted teeth, doing everything he could to resist charging at the bird and pumling its smug beak to dust.
"I will," the celestial nesting weaver smugly replied, disdain written all over its face.
"You still haven't answered... Little Brother Qing," it added as its talons touched the ground with all the grace of a grand celestial being.
"That's it!" Yang Qing yelled, losing all composure as he charged, his fist burning like a blazing teor descending on the earth with fierce violence.
The celestial nesting weaver scoffed, deftly dodging Yang Qing's fist with a graceful side-step.
"You broke through?" Yang Qing muttered in surprise, sensing the weaver's fluctuations—though not before throwing a quick kick.
"I did," the celestial nesting weaver smugly responded, using one of its talons to deflect Yang Qing's kick, a crisp thunderous sound erupting from the clash.
Mao Yunru's hasty escape interrupted Yang Qing's next attack.
"Yang I will see you later. I got you my robe... I an I got you a robe," Mao Yunru said in a fluster as she placed a neatly folded robe on the table, fading into mist imdiately after.
Taking advantage of Yang Qing's dazed look, the Celestial nesting weaver snuck a blow with one of its wings.
"Today if I don't pluck all your feathers then I really will be your younger brother, you bastard," Yang Qing venomously said as he picked himself up from the ground charging at the weaver.
"I'd like to see you try," the celestial nesting weaver defiantly said as it charged over.
The serene silence from a few minutes ago was instantly shattered by the bombardnt of explosions and venomous words and yells that ca out of the two, with their chaos infecting every inch of the abode.
User Comments
0 comments from readers