“Steward Lady, is the Fox Immortal Lord still angry with me?”

On a spring afternoon, Xin Mei sat in the purple bamboo pavilion blooming with fragrant flowers, eating rice noodles while asking the steward servant beside her.

The steward remained very composed: “Boss Xin, please don’t worry. The Valley Master isn’t such a petty immortal.”

“Oh, then why is he dressed like that today? And he keeps turning around to glare at me?”

Xin Mei looked up at the Fox Immortal Lord sitting across the river fishing. He wore very masculine armor with a long sword at his waist. On average, every stick of incense’s worth of time, he would get up and pace in a circle in front of her, occasionally drawing his sword to hack at dead branches and grass. Whenever she looked over, he would stare at her fiercely with cold eyes, then sit back down to fish as if nothing had happened.

Speaking of which, yesterday when she was helping the new disciples train spiritual beasts, he had also appeared to wander around from time to time. But yesterday he wore a chivalrous cape and covered one eye with black cloth, playing a one-eyed dragon. Oh right, the day before he seemed to have dressed up as a celestial master…

“He has those special few days every month. You’ll get used to it.”

Those who served immortals daily were indeed different—how could she be so composed? Xin Mei nodded admiringly and continued eating her rice noodles.

“Eh, why is this little girl still here?” Someone’s voice rose from outside the pavilion, asking rather rudely.

Xin Mei turned around to see the immortal called Meishan walking over, holding a large bundle of brightly colored spiritual flowers and herbs in his arms. He glanced at her unkindly, and that glance contained complex emotions including embarrassment, loss of face, anger, annoyance, affected superiority, and other things that ordinary people could rarely feel simultaneously.

“Spiritual beasts aren’t like talismans that can be used the day after delivery. Someone has to tame them. Those new disciples are clumsy, so I asked her to stay and help.” Zhen Hongsheng threw all the fish he’d caught back into the river and explained.

Seeing Meishan enter the purple bamboo pavilion, Xin Mei stood up to bow: “Greetings to Lord Meishan.”

Meishan coldly grunted. Seeing her made him irritated, always reminding him of his embarrassing incident from a few days ago. For immortals, face was more important than heaven itself. He really hoped she would quickly disappear to the ends of the earth and never appear again.

A breeze blew over, carrying his overwhelming alcohol smell. While eating rice noodles, Xin Mei said: “Lord Meishan, excessive drinking harms the body. You’re so thin and weak, like the thin bamboo pole for hanging clothes in our backyard. You should eat more food instead.”

Meishan touched his forehead and forcefully pressed back the bulging veins. He refused to hear any words like “thin,” “weak,” “slender,” or “bamboo pole,” but she had managed to hit all his taboos in one sentence. Looking down at his hands, he wondered whether he should strangle her.

“Greet… greetings to the Valley Master, Lord Meishan, Boss Xin…”

A timid voice came from outside the pavilion. Xin Mei looked up happily, quickly finished her remaining rice noodles, and jumped out with a smile: “Brother Dahu, what’s the matter?”

Zhang Dahu’s face was red and shy, his voice like a mosquito: “Just came to ask Boss Xin to teach the methods of instructing spiritual beasts… that spiritual monkey won’t eat anything no matter what, and it scratches me whenever I get close…”

“Oh, no problem, I’ll go help you take a look.” Xin Mei was ready to leave immediately.

Zhen Hongsheng coughed loudly several times behind her, glaring coldly: “I’m not giving away any disciples.”

Xin Mei sighed. Fine, if he wouldn’t give them away, then he wouldn’t. What a pity about a decent husband candidate.

Watching the two walk away, the confused Meishan asked: “Give away what?”

Zhen Hongsheng caught a golden carp, still angry: “The little girl has taken a fancy to the gate guard Zhang Dahu, saying he’s a peerless beauty.”

Actually, he was just resentful of Xin Mei’s twisted aesthetic sense, unable to distinguish beauty from ugliness. Zhang Dahu’s board-like face could be a peerless beauty, while he, so handsome and elegant, was actually called feminine.

Meishan recalled the gate guard who had just come, with his square face as upright and straight as a door panel. Hmm, peerless beauty…

He clutched his stomach and rolled on the ground laughing.

Xin Mei stayed at Chongling Valley for half a month straight, so predictably, one morning a skylark fluttered down in front of her.

It was a small spiritual beast that Xinxie Manor specifically used for message delivery.

The skylark had a note tied to its leg. Her father had urgently scrawled a line: How goes the son-in-law matter? You’ll turn sixteen in just over a month—you must marry before then!

The last five words were written in cinnabar, bright red and startling to the eyes.

Xin Mei realized she had indeed been too lax recently. Fed well with good food and drink at Chongling Valley, enjoying green mountains and clear waters, she had actually forgotten this most important matter. Filled with guilt, she returned to her room to pack, planning to bid farewell to Zhen Hongsheng that very day.

This petty fox immortal still seemed to be holding grudges from half a month ago, only saying: “Send someone to notify Zhang Dahu that he’s not allowed to guard the gate today. Tell him to stay in his room to avoid being constantly coveted.”

Xin Mei looked up at him, seeing that to emphasize his masculine appeal, he constantly wore a sword at his waist and never forgot to wear a chest protector, covered by a black velvet cloak, as if he were about to go to battle.

She thought for a moment and said: “The Fox Immortal Lord’s attire today is indeed very heroic.”

Zhen Hongsheng immediately brightened, beaming with joy: “You finally have some aesthetic sense now, very good, very good!”

She continued: “You look like General Pengrong from the paintings, heroic and valiant.”

General Pengrong was a legendary figure of unmatched bravery in the ancient tales of Qiong Kingdom. Of course, most importantly—she was a female general.

Zhen Hongsheng ran away in tears.

Xin Mei felt very good, carrying her bundle and bringing Qiuyue along as they flew homeward. No matter, there were many towns and cities large and small along the way back. Husbands were things that should indeed be bought in places with many mortals—immortals were all petty and unreliable.

While spring was bright and beautiful within Chongling Valley, outside it was continuously rainy. Xin Mei hadn’t brought water-repelling talismans, so flying on Qiuyue’s back in this weather would be asking for trouble. Seeing a large dense forest ahead, she quickly signaled Qiuyue to land on the treetop, then converted it to a talisman and tucked it into her robes.

Seeing the sky darkening, she probably wouldn’t reach any towns today and would have to camp outdoors.

She leaped down from the treetop, landing lightly on the ground, only to discover there was a puddle of mud below that splashed half her body with a “splat.”

Xin Mei casually patted her clothes—this was her good point, not having the strict requirements for clothing cleanliness that ordinary girls had. If the eldest senior sister from the manor got splashed with mud, she’d probably faint. She couldn’t tolerate even a speck of dust on her hem and would make a big fuss upon seeing it.

Taking off her outer robe, she found a dry spot under the tree and hung it up with branches to dry. She was about to remove her undergarment to dry as well when she suddenly felt something was wrong behind her.

Turning around, she saw a man standing under the tree across from her, holding a wooden sword and a small knife, with wood shavings scattered all over the ground beneath him.

Xin Mei froze.

This man didn’t avoid looking at all, just staring straight at her like she was a wooden figure.

Then…

His body and face seemed to be covered with the mud water she had just splashed… and it was still dripping down from his nose bridge.

Xin Mei turned around woodenly, took down the clothes from the rack, put them on, then took out her handkerchief and walked over to offer it to him.

“…Sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose.”

A very sincere apology.

The man looked at her, then at the handkerchief, said nothing, didn’t take the handkerchief, just wiped his face with his sleeve and continued carving the wooden sword with his head down.

How pitiful, was he a handsome mute and deaf man?

Xin Mei looked at him several times, but somehow… the more she looked, the more familiar he seemed. Had she seen this person somewhere before? Although he kept his head down, those unique deep yet gentle contours were quite different from ordinary people of Qiong Kingdom, and he was a head taller than ordinary men.

Occasionally he would hold the wooden sword before his eyes, lightly stroking it with his fingers as if measuring whether it was suitable. At these moments, she could clearly see his handsome eyebrows and eyes, his expression carrying a trace of aloof pride. Although he held an unfinished wooden sword in his hands, he himself was more like an unsheathed legendary blade, possessing the beauty of cold, brilliant light.

Uh, the more she looked, the more familiar he seemed.

The wooden sword was quickly finished. The man brushed away the water traces on the sword’s surface and suddenly spoke: “You cannot camp here tonight. It’s dangerous.”

A very pleasant voice tinged with coolness.

Xin Mei’s mouth fell open. This person… this person—wasn’t he the man who had slapped her awake with one palm that night at the Imperial Tomb?!