Ziqing returned to the mountaintop residence, where the room was empty except for Jun Beiyue.
He wore only a loose white undergarment, the collar carelessly open at the chest, the lean, defined lines of his chest muscles visible and hidden by turns, radiating an irresistible masculine allure.
At the moment, he sat leaning lazily on a long couch, gently stroking Ziqing’s Wuzheng zither, an air of deep thought on his face.
Seen from a distance, it looked like something out of a beautifully rendered classical painting, and this man was the very immortal within it.
The moment Ziqing walked in, she was struck by the scene, her heart quickening without meaning to. But just then, a flash of something sinister suddenly crossed Jun Beiyue’s languid, unhurried expression. He looked up, and without warning his fingers swept sharply across the zither strings—“Qing!”
To Ziqing’s utter surprise, a cold, sharp blade of wind actually shot from Jun Beiyue’s fingertips, streaking straight toward her!
Her mind went completely blank for a moment. It wasn’t until the wind-blade whistled past her ear that she came back to her senses, her brow furrowing sharply, instinctively bracing herself. “Xuanyuan Lige!”
At that, Jun Beiyue looked visibly surprised, then suddenly burst into laughter. “Hah! Qing’er, so you really believe I wouldn’t harm you?”
Only then did Ziqing relax her guard, her fine brows still slightly knit. “What are you doing? Since when can you release wind-blades with a flick of your fingers?”
Jun Beiyue set the Wuzheng aside and lightly flicked his fingers. “This was forced out by the Gu Shi household’s internal power—not from any particular finger technique.”
“No wonder it resembles Xuanyuan Lige’s so closely—the force behind it is immense,” Ziqing said seriously. Speaking of Xuanyuan Lige in front of Jun Beiyue held no particular awkwardness for her; she spoke of it entirely at ease.
Jun Beiyue, on the other hand, paused before asking with a smile, “Between him and me… who’s stronger?”
“Hard to say. He’s physically frail, with essentially no internal power of his own—all his strength is concentrated in his hands, and his special finger technique multiplies the power of the wind-blades many times over. As for you—if you channel sword energy into a wind-blade, you’d certainly surpass him. But if you’re releasing wind-blades purely with your fingers, that’s less certain. You’ve inherited the internal power of both Madam Gu and the family head, so your reserves are substantial, but a finger can only withstand so much power passing through it, so the force you can release that way is naturally limited,” Ziqing analyzed earnestly, entirely fair and impartial.
“Han Ziqing, don’t you know how to show a little favoritism?” Jun Beiyue asked, teasing.
Ziqing looked up at him, puzzled. “Why would I?”
She genuinely didn’t understand—a comparison of skill was a serious matter. If this man asked her to analyze it, of course she’d take it seriously.
“Because you like me,” Jun Beiyue said suddenly, leaning in close, his expression earnest.
Ziqing immediately jerked back, but he simply pulled her into his arms, her head resting against the crook of his arm.
“Gu Suying couldn’t find the medicine in the storehouse, so Jiang Chen went down the mountain to search for it. I’ve got Yingzi watching him,” Ziqing blurted out in a single breath, without pausing.
“Mm,” Jun Beiyue responded simply, gazing at her with a tenderness soft as water.
This time Ziqing didn’t dare close her eyes, but she looked away instead, adding, “You’ve fully recovered?”
“Mm,” Jun Beiyue answered again, just as simply, not elaborating further. In truth, he had only just now fully absorbed the two streams of internal power that had been lingering in his dantian—compared to before, his strength had risen to an entirely new level. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to release a wind-blade with a flick of his finger just now.
“We depart for Qinse Valley the day after tomorrow. There should be no shortage of things the family head will need to rely on me for. His position today made things quite clear—if Jiang Chen turns out to be the poisoner, then you’re his last remaining bargaining chip.” The more Ziqing spoke, the more serious she became, and before she quite realized it, she found herself looking at Jun Beiyue with grave intensity.
But Jun Beiyue only answered again, simply, “Mm.”
Ziqing pressed her lips together tightly at that. A doting smile flickered in Jun Beiyue’s eyes—this woman probably had no idea that whenever she was nervous or angry, she pressed her lips together without even realizing it.
Go on, keep talking, keep earnestly changing the subject.
What he’d liked about this woman before had been her strength, her independence, her stubborn refusal to bend. But during the time he’d spent unconscious, he’d caught glimpses of a side of her that showed itself only when she thought no one was watching. He had to admit—he hadn’t really intended anything in particular. It was just that seeing her, especially seeing her serious, cool composure, made him want to tease her endlessly, made him long to see her nervous, shy, flustered side.
Even at this close a distance, there was always a feeling that this woman was a puzzle, one he could never fully read, never fully solve.
That kind of fondness was impossible to put into words—even now that he had her, it never felt like enough. He wanted to devour her whole, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
Suddenly, Ziqing snapped, unexpectedly annoyed, “So do you actually have anything to say?”
Jun Beiyue was clearly caught off guard—this was one thing he hadn’t anticipated. This woman wasn’t flustered, wasn’t too shy to know what to do—she was… she was actually angry.
And yet, seeing her so charmingly cross like that, he couldn’t help but want to laugh.
How could there possibly be a woman like this, one he could never seem to get enough of no matter how much he liked her?
“If you have nothing to say, then let go!” Ziqing snapped, genuinely baffled by this man. She’d come here to discuss serious matters—this was no time for jokes.
But no sooner had the words left her mouth than Jun Beiyue, catching her off guard, gently pressed a kiss against her lips.
Ziqing instinctively struggled. She was afraid—lips this soft and gentle, paired with such an overpoweringly masculine presence, could pull anyone under in an instant, leaving them unable to resist, unable to pull free.
But just as Ziqing began to lose herself in the moment, Jun Beiyue suddenly pulled back, pressing one more firm kiss to her forehead before finally releasing her.
For a moment, Ziqing felt suddenly, strangely empty—even with him right in front of her, there was a hollow feeling that unsettled her. She looked up at him, dazed, only to catch the playful, ambiguous look in his eyes. That snapped her back to reality at once, and she immediately lowered her head, her face flushing bright red.
“My dear Qing’er,” Jun Beiyue said with a fond sigh, not teasing her any further this time, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and slowly lying back down.
“Why not deal with the Enchanting Incense first? If you want to know the secret of the isolated island, I’ll help you find it,” he said flatly.
Ziqing was quiet for a long moment before finally letting out a breath and saying, “It’s immune to a hundred poisons—it would be a waste to lose it. Besides, I want to find family who share my bloodline… no, family, in the true sense.”
Family? Hearing that word from a woman like her felt almost unbelievable.
“Am I not your family? Isn’t Prince Yao’s estate your family?” Jun Beiyue said with a smile.
“It’s not the same. My mother’s family—I want a home to call my own, on my mother’s side too.” As Ziqing spoke, she suddenly sat up and looked at him seriously. “A home I can return to, if you ever mistreat me in the future.”
“Silly girl, I’d never mistreat you,” Jun Beiyue said, laughing helplessly…
When Jun Beiyue wasn’t up to mischief, Ziqing was actually willing to open up to him and talk. The two of them chatted on and on, and before she realized it, Ziqing had nestled into his embrace, and eventually, without meaning to, fell asleep.
Jun Beiyue gently stroked her small face, murmuring softly, “Qing’er, with you here, my heart is warm. The Great Zhou throne is mine to inherit, but I only hope for a little human warmth.”
Once the zither gathering began, all eyes on Liuxian Isle would surely converge on it. And meanwhile, on the continent of Longyuan, war had already broken out between Western Chu and Western Jing—the world itself was shifting dramatically.
Night deepened gradually. Jun Beiyue held the sleeping Ziqing with one arm, while flipping through several letters from Da Zhou with the other.
And not far away, in the woods on the mountaintop, there—unexpectedly—was the figure of Jiang Chen. Hadn’t he gone down the mountain? Why was he here?
…