"Love itself is sothing that can’t be explained in a single sentence. What certainties could there possibly be?"
Yu Yaoguang fixed her almond-shaped eyes on Fang Shuwen, her gaze pointed and full of aning.
Fang Shuwen nodded in agreent. Still, he found her gaze a bit scorching and cleared his throat with a cough.
"You can’t really just let things take their own course, can you?"
"Of course not."
Yu Yaoguang smiled faintly.
"I’ve had people following them in secret for a while now. No matter what, Dongfang Wujiu is still the Young Mansion Master of Wentian Mansion.
"We can’t let him be ruined at the hands of that enchantress.
"But according to my people’s reports, it seems there’s really sothing budding between them.
"That Gu Lianhua was injured at the Yuqing Banquet, and Dongfang Wujiu has been taking her everywhere, rushing about to find doctors and dicine.
"I heard that when they had nowhere to stay for the night and had to sleep outdoors, he held Gu Lianhua in his arms, the two of them cuddling for warmth... A sight to make anyone envious."
...
Fang Shuwen couldn’t quite understand why Yu Yaoguang would be envious, but he knew better than to comnt on it. He simply asked:
"Have you notified Wentian Mansion about this?"
"But of course."
Yu Yaoguang said with a smile:
"I sent a letter to Dongfang Canyang explaining the course of events.
"After that, I expect soone from Wentian Mansion will make contact with my Yuqing Pavilion agents who are tailing them.
"When the ti cos, I’d like to see how that fellow, Dongfang Canyang... will handle this.
"Will he pinch his nose and accept this daughter-in-law, or does he plan to break up the happy couple?"
Dongfang Canyang is the Mansion Master of Wentian Mansion.
Hearing Yu Yaoguang’s words, Fang Shuwen put himself in the man’s shoes for a mont. It gave him a massive headache just thinking about it.
’Wouldn’t Dongfang Canyang just explode with rage when he hears this news?’
’The son he’d spent so many years painstakingly raising, a young man first-rate in both character and Martial Arts, and what happens? He’s not even out of the house for two days before so enchantress from the Flower Moon Sect lures him away.’
’It’s a situation so absurd you wouldn’t know where to begin to complain.’
’His first reaction would probably be to have that Gu Lianhua killed.’
’But if the two of them have truly developed feelings for each other, how could Dongfang Wujiu just stand by and watch?’
’If this ends up turning father and son against each other... the scene would be unimaginable.’
Fang Shuwen suddenly felt he absolutely had to give Fang Lingxin a proper upbringing.
’After all, traveling the Jianghu these days was a constant source of worry, for n and won alike.’
’n were easily lured away by temptresses, while won were easily led astray by scoundrels.’
’Making your way in the Jianghu is truly no easy task.’
After helping Yu Yaoguang tidy up her bedding, the two of them ca out of the room.
From this day on, the Grand Sect Leader of Yuqing Pavilion had more or less taken up residence there.
And counting from this mont, there were only three days left until the Flower-Picking Conference on the twenty-fifth.
Pojun City was now packed with all sorts of characters, and everyone was biding their ti, holding their cards close to their chest.
In the silent corners, a storm was secretly brewing.
...
...
Inside Langhuan Restaurant, a young Swordsman drained his cup in one go, letting out a satisfied sigh.
His gaze drifted to the window, to the bustling street below.
"The stage is set. Those who should be here are here, and so are those who shouldn’t."
He shook his head lightly.
"I have to find a way to et him. I just hope he doesn’t kill with a single palm strike the mont I show up."
He placed the cup back on the table. Beside it lay a longsword.
The design of the Qilin Sword Blade was exceptionally unique, unforgettable to anyone who saw it.
...
...
Not far from Langhuan Restaurant, a beggar sat at a street corner, braving the cold wind with a miserable expression, pleading with kind-hearted passersby.
Occasionally, with a CLINK, a couple more copper coins would appear in his bowl, and he would be endlessly grateful, thanking them profusely.
Suddenly, his ears twitched slightly.
He picked up the broken bowl in front of him and slipped into an alley.
As his figure fell into the shadows, his form changed with it. The miserable look on his face vanished, and his features gradually twisted and shifted, finally resolving into the face of a woman.
As for the broken bowl in her arms...
She pocketed the few copper coins from the bowl before tossing it aside.
A figure landed silently before her, dropping to one knee.
"Pavilion Master."
"How are the preparations coming along?"
"Everything is ready."
"Good."
She nodded lightly and looked up at the sky. The clouds were thick and heavy, as if a blizzard was on its way.
The corners of her mouth curved into a slight smile.
"It’s ti for this to end."
...
...
In a courtyard, by a pond, grew a large tree. A person was lying on one of its branches.
The man’s face was flushed red, and the tip of his nose was crimson.
He was fast asleep on the branch, snoring loudly. One hand rested on his chest, while the other dangled loosely, still holding a wine gourd. His grip weakened, and the gourd began to slip from his grasp. But just as it was about to fall from his hand, a red string tied to his wrist suddenly pulled taut.
The man’s eyes snapped open. With a flick of his hand, the wine gourd was once again secure in his grasp.
He opened the lid and took a swig.
"A little wine to wake up.
"Hmm, what ti is it?"
"You only just fell asleep. The Flower-Picking Conference is still three days away."
A voice ca from the shadows.
"Got it. I can sleep for two more days, then."
He muttered:
"Co wake up in two days..."
With that said, he shifted his position and went back to sleep.
The wind was cold as a knife, but it could not pierce the warmth around him. The tree’s shadow swayed, but it could not shake his stable form.
The person in the shadows retreated in silence, as if they had never been there at all.
...
...
City God Temple. The temple priest held a bowl of plain noodles and knocked cautiously on the door.
A young man’s clear voice ca from within:
"Co in."
The temple priest carefully pushed the door open and glanced at the young man sitting cross-legged on the bed.
"Young Master, it’s ti to eat."
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