Fu Yunxiao called her “Junior Aunt” with an unusually high frequency.
At first, he would just run over to greet her whenever he saw her from afar on the road. The second time, he began waiting outside the alchemy chamber with a teacup while she was refining pills, quietly handing it to her when she came out. By the third time, he even squatted on the steps not far away to watch her practice her swordplay, only standing up to say, “You've worked hard, Junior Aunt,” before turning to leave once she sheathed her sword.
Lin Zhiyue went from being uncomfortable at first to gradually feeling a sense of helplessness, though she didn't say anything.
This novel piece of news seemed to grow wings, spreading all the way from the outer sect to the ears of the inner sect disciples.
Liu Fengyao was the first who couldn't sit still.
Carrying the dregs of a newly ruined batch of pills, she stormed into Lin Zhiyue's courtyard in a huff and blurted out, “Zhiyue! What on earth is going on with that Fu Yunxiao? Why does he run to your place every single day, calling you ‘Junior Aunt’ so affectionately with every breath?”
Lin Zhiyue was leaning against her daybed, flipping through a damaged scroll. Hearing this, she didn't even raise her eyelids. “He can call me whatever he wants. Am I supposed to gag him?”
“But everyone outside is saying...” Liu Fengyao stamped her foot in anxiety.
“Saying what?” Cen Xi'er leaned against the doorframe at some point, gnawing on a shiny, greasy half-roasted chicken. “Saying that Fu Yunxiao fell in love with Junior Aunt Lin at first sight, visiting her every day just to win a smile from his beauty?”
Liu Fengyao: “...”
Lin Zhiyue: “...”
Cen Xi'er tossed the chicken bone onto the table, clapped her hands, and looked at Lin Zhiyue with a serious face. “I'll bet two chicken drumsticks that Fu Yunxiao is definitely after you for your looks.”
Lin Zhiyue helplessly put down her scroll and rubbed her brow. “I thought he was provoking me.”
“Provoking you?” Cen Xi'er sneered. “What is he provoking you with? Provoking you for being better-looking than him, or provoking you for having a higher cultivation level? I think he has an ulterior motive.”
Lin Zhiyue sighed. “Stop thinking about it. I absolutely do not accept a generational gap.”
“That won't do,” Liu Fengyao suddenly leaned closer, lowering her voice with a hint of playful interest. “Then your master... is also...”
Before she could finish her sentence, a flurry of footsteps suddenly sounded from the courtyard entrance.
“Junior Sister.” Chu Zhixun's voice was clear, carrying a trace of subtle embarrassment. Clearly, he had overheard their conversation.
Lin Zhiyue looked up to see Chu Zhixun standing in the courtyard, followed by a man in a moon-white Daoist robe with smiling eyes—the very protagonist of the recent rumors, Fu Yunxiao.
Fu Yunxiao's gaze swept over the three people in the room before resting steadily on Lin Zhiyue. With a slight curl of his lips, he cupped his hands and said, “Junior Aunt, what a coincidence.”
Lin Zhiyue: “...”
She silently shrank behind Liu Fengyao.
Chu Zhixun stood beside Fu Yunxiao with his arms crossed, looking righteous, yet his tone carried a touch of helpless exasperation. “I ran into him at the martial arts field today and mentioned I was coming to see you all. He insisted on tagging along, saying that since his Junior Aunt is here, he must pay his respects.”
“Pay your respects?” Cen Xi'er raised her eyebrows, her gaze slowly sweeping between Fu Yunxiao and Lin Zhiyue as the smile on her lips deepened. “Disciple Nephew Fu, how come I haven't seen you coming to pay your respects to me?”
Fu Yunxiao wasn't annoyed either. Instead, he took a step forward, his gaze meeting Lin Zhiyue's candidly. “If Junior Aunt doesn't mind, I can come pay my respects every day.” Only then did he turn his head to add a sentence to Cen Xi'er, “Junior Aunt Cen as well.”
Lin Zhiyue and Cen Xi'er fell silent at the same time, then said in unison, “...That's completely unnecessary.”
Chu Zhixun unhurriedly added a jab from the side, “I think that's feasible. Yunxiao, you mustn't favor one over the other. Otherwise, it'll look like you're treating your Junior Aunt Lin with special attention, and others might gossip if they see it.”
Lin Zhiyue: “...”
She felt that Chu Zhixun must have forgotten to bring his brain when he went out today.
Meanwhile, Liu Fengyao suddenly leaned close to Lin Zhiyue's ear and whispered, “See? I told you he has feelings for you. Otherwise, who would run to their Junior Aunt's place every day?”
Lin Zhiyue: “...”
She suddenly felt that the atmosphere in this cultivation world seemed a bit off.
The night was thick, soaking the entire courtyard in a deep, inky blackness.
Lin Zhiyue sat on a low stool under the corridor. Yuetuan lay obediently at her feet, his fluffy tail resting lazily on her knees.
She was bowing her head to smooth his back fur, her fingertips sliding unhurriedly along the silver-gray pattern.
Yuetuan narrowed his eyes comfortably, a soft, satisfied purr escaping his throat, sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet night.
There was a sudden double knock at the courtyard gate.
Lin Zhiyue didn't even raise her head, assuming Liu Fengyao had returned because she forgot something. She casually called out, “Come in.”
The door was pushed open, and the night wind rushed in first, causing the hems of her robes to flutter slightly.
She was slightly startled when she looked up—Qi Yan was standing outside the door.
He wasn't wearing his usual neat black martial attire, but only a dark set of ordinary clothes. His expression was no different from usual, yet he appeared exceptionally cold and aloof in the night.
He glanced at her and stepped into the courtyard. His footsteps were very light, making almost no sound on the blue brick floor, as if he had melted into the boundless night.
Lin Zhiyue's movements paused. She looked up at him, then put down her comb, gently moved Yuetuan's tail off her knees, and stood up. “Master?”
Her tone carried a hint of question and confusion, along with a trace of tension she hadn't even noticed herself. Coming over so late, was there some urgent matter?
Qi Yan walked over to the stone table and stood there, not sitting down.
Yuetuan was stretching his body at Lin Zhiyue's feet, letting out a cute whimper.
Qi Yan sat down by the table. Without looking at her, he simply picked up the cup of cold tea on the table, turning the rim slightly before speaking in a calm tone, “Those who cultivate the Dao should not waste their effort and mind on romance.”
He paused, his voice turning a fraction cooler, as if reminding her of an insignificant matter. “You are still young. Do not be coaxed away by a few sweet words.” After saying this, he placed the teacup back on the table, still not looking at her.
Lin Zhiyue stood in place. Having heard him finish, she didn't reply immediately.
The night wind brushed past, blowing the stray hairs at her temples and also ruffling her state of mind.
She waited for a moment, and after confirming he had no intention of continuing, she spoke softly, “I understand, Master.”
Qi Yan sat by the stone table for another moment, saying nothing more.
He looked down at the tabletop. With a slight twitch of his fingertips, a green jade bottle appeared beside his hand, which he placed on the table.
Then he stood up. Without turning back, he only left behind a word: “Foundation-Consolidating Pill.” With that, he turned and walked toward the courtyard gate.
When the courtyard gate closed behind him, it made a soft sound, as if shut by the wind.
Lin Zhiyue stood in place for a while before squatting down again to scoop Yuetuan back onto her knees.
She used her fingers to smooth the soft fur behind his ears a couple of times, then picked him up and put him back into his nest under the eaves.
Standing in the courtyard, her gaze fell upon the closed gate. Those words just now, “Those who cultivate the Dao should not waste their effort on romance,” seemed like a subtle warning to her—had he heard about Fu Yunxiao?
As she turned and walked back into the room, the night had already crept over the edge of the courtyard wall, spreading an even darkness inside the threshold.
She reached out to close the door. The creak of the hinges slowly dissipated along the quiet corridor, like an unheard sigh.
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