Too much bullying!

Absolutely petty revenge!

During the day, Jiang Xuening had finally seen Zhang Zhe safe and sound. Her tightly strung heartstrings relaxed and she suddenly fainted. She slept until evening. Upon waking, she realized her entire body was exhausted. It was the fatigue from these days of toil—her pampered body had long grown weary. Only in the previous days she’d been too tense to notice. So she simply stayed in bed, carelessly ate something to fill her stomach, then asked Xiaobao how Zhang Zhe was.

Xiaobao said Lord Zhang was also recuperating from injuries in the temple.

She then wanted to go see him.

Who could have anticipated that before she’d even gotten out of bed, people from Xie Wei’s side arrived.

Jianshu stood bowing outside her room door, not entering. Hearing the loud cry from inside, he gently lowered his eyelids and still calmly repeated: “Teacher requests you come learn the qin.”

Jiang Xuening was fuming: “I don’t have a qin!”

Jianshu said: “Teacher says he has one there.”

Jiang Xuening nearly choked: “I’m a sick person!”

Jianshu said: “Xiaobao said the physician came to examine you. You’re only fatigued, nothing serious.”

Jiang Xuening: “…”

That half-grown little brat really was petty-minded. He must be holding a grudge about her not going to the inn but going to the government office to summon reinforcements, and even tattled to Xie Wei!

Having reached this point in the conversation, she couldn’t refuse.

She gritted her teeth, climbed up to change her clothes, tidied herself briefly, then walked out the door.

Jianshu brought an umbrella, wanting to hold it for her.

But she inexplicably didn’t quite dare trouble Xie Wei’s subordinates. She took the umbrella herself and held it over her head before following Jianshu all the way toward Xie Wei’s courtyard at the other end of the compound.

This should be the courtyard where the temple master of Shangqing resided—a small one, standing alone in the corner of Shangqing Temple’s back mountain, appearing quiet and secluded.

Fine snow fell in flurries, yet there wasn’t a single lamp in the surroundings.

When Jiang Xuening walked into the courtyard, she couldn’t help but freeze for a moment. Looking up, she could only see a warm yellow glow coming through the window paper from inside the room, illuminating the fine snow falling outside. It actually had a special charm.

Perhaps this Daoist temple had long been in disrepair. Though Xie Wei’s side had brought people, their preparations weren’t very complete. Not lighting lamps wasn’t particularly strange, right?

Jianshu stepped forward and lightly knocked on the door, saying: “Second Miss has arrived.”

From inside came a flat voice: “Enter.”

All the way here, Jiang Xuening had been full of anger. But hearing this voice was like having a basin of ice water poured over her head. No matter how arrogant her flames or how furious her mood, they suddenly extinguished completely and cleanly. Her calves began to go weak.

Jianshu pushed open the door. Jiang Xuening walked inside.

Only one lamp was lit in the room.

Xie Wei sat cross-legged on one side of the arhat bed by the window. The lamplight could only illuminate half his face. His fingers lightly pressed his temple. His features carried faint weariness. He raised his eyes to look her over.

She had changed into that pale purple dress. Though the style wasn’t particularly novel, the craftsmanship was considered exquisite. It couldn’t compare to palace robes’ elaborate splendor, but instead carried a few parts of the serene elegance of small bridges and flowing water.

After entering, she carefully performed courtesy: “Greetings, Teacher.”

Her slender neck, pale red lips, fair cheeks—only several small scratches remained on them. Though she’d applied medicinal ointment, they hadn’t completely healed yet. She truly wasn’t afraid of not being able to marry.

Xie Wei lightly waved his hand.

Jianshu froze, then withdrew.

The two door panels behind Jiang Xuening closed with a soft “creak.” She inexplicably trembled and grew tense.

Xie Wei then said: “Seeing me, you’re as trembling and fearful as a mouse seeing a cat. Where did you get the courage to disregard your own safety, go to the government office to summon reinforcements, and rescue Zhang Zhe?”

Jiang Xuening said quietly: “Human life is paramount…”

Xie Wei raised his hand toward her: “Come here. I can’t see you clearly.”

This room was only so big. Jiang Xuening already felt she was standing too close and wished the room were bigger so she could stand farther away. How could she have anticipated Xie Wei saying this?

What couldn’t be seen clearly?

But her heart was pounding. Not daring to refute, she obediently shuffled forward one step.

Xie Wei’s brow furrowed lightly. He smiled: “If these two legs can’t walk, then we might as well find a time to help you saw them off.”

The hairs on Jiang Xuening’s back immediately stood on end!

Looking at Xie Wei’s expression as he smiled and said these words, she only felt he was twelve parts serious in his words, and there was even a hint of vaguely suppressed anger. How could she dare delay even half a moment?

This time she finally walked forward.

But still remained two or three steps away.

Xie Wei spread his palm toward her: “Come.”

On that fingertip still remained the wound from tightly gripping the bowstring during the day. Looking at that crimson mark, it actually resembled a filthy red flaw left on beautiful jade, making one unable to help but say “what a pity” upon seeing it.

Jiang Xuening really couldn’t make sense of things.

On one hand, she felt Xie Wei was extremely strange tonight and should stay far from him. On the other hand, she felt afraid and didn’t dare appear too defiant. These two thoughts of advancing and retreating fought each other in her heart, making her hesitantly raise her hand, not knowing whether she should extend it toward Xie Wei.

Xie Wei finally grew somewhat impatient. All expression faded from his face. He actually grabbed her hand and pulled it toward himself.

Jiang Xuening was completely unprepared and didn’t stand steady.

Xie Wei sat cross-legged on the arhat bed, his position not very high to begin with. She stumbled and sat down on the footstool placed before the arhat bed. Looking up at him, her heart was full of shock and fear.

His palm was ice-cold. He raised it and placed it on her face, free of powder and rouge. He truly leaned forward slightly to look at her closely.

Xie Wei’s face was truly flawless.

Long brows, phoenix eyes, thin lips, straight nose—even the shadow cast by his eyelashes on his eyelids seemed to have been carefully depicted by celestial brush and ink. Like a deity, making one unable to generate even half a trace of desecrating intent.

But perhaps because he drew near, when Jiang Xuening’s gaze crashed into his eyes, she saw something like a layer of shadow in his pupils. He looked at her extremely seriously, his gaze as sharp as a blade tip. Only after a moment did he retreat slightly. The light that had illuminated his features thus also dimmed somewhat, making it suddenly unclear.

Those slightly cool fingertips stirred a tremor in her.

Jiang Xuening’s voice trembled: “Tea—Teacher…”

The skin pressed by his fingertips was truly delicate, as if pressing once would leave a mark—ready to break at a blow.

With her face tilted upward to look at him, her slender neck was exposed.

Xie Wei glanced at it, as if wanting to sense something, or perhaps the malice hidden deep in his skin quietly overflowed. He still didn’t withdraw his hand, only saying: “For people existing in the world, first benefit oneself, then benefit others. I watched you in the palace, careful and cautious at every step. I thought you were clear-headed. I didn’t expect that leaving the palace, your mind would be damaged. Ningning, do you remember what I told you when you first entered the palace?”

He had told her to be obedient and not make him angry.

Xie Wei’s killing intent was never false.

Jiang Xuening didn’t dare move much. She replied: “I remember.”

Xie Wei’s fingertips then applied force. There were still wounds on her cheek. He pressed until she hurt, lightly furrowing her brow. Only then did he slightly loosen his grip, but his voice grew increasingly cold: “If it hadn’t been me this time, you would have died ten times over and more!”

This behavior of his, beyond being merciless, truly crossed a line.

But Jiang Xuening had always viewed him as saint or demon. In the previous life, boldly recommending herself for his bed had only brought humiliation. She knew even more that he studied the Dao and Buddhism, was pure-hearted with few desires, and didn’t approach women. Therefore she didn’t think elsewhere at all, only taking Xie Wei’s behavior as disgust toward her, tormenting her.

The more his silent anger showed, the more obedient she became.

Jiang Xuening was someone who sought benefit and avoided harm. Though in this life, having repented, many things had already changed, she had long been accustomed to seeking the crevices in people’s hearts and drilling into them. This was no longer any skill but rather a practiced instinct.

Whenever anyone showed her a few parts of pity or reluctance, she would seize the opening.

Only because since childhood she had pleased Wanniang this way.

At this time, under tension, that instinct emerged strand by strand.

She carefully sized up his expression, subconsciously feeling that in this life, Xie Wei toward her ultimately remembered some parts of their past relationship. Moreover, with the matter of the Marquis of Yongyi manor, he should be much more merciful toward her.

Probably he was just annoyed that she had ruined his plans.

After all, it concerned the Xiao clan.

So she boldly offered an ingratiating smile: “But the student was fortunate—I just happened to run into Teacher.”

When the young girl smiled, she was like peach blossoms on branches blooming with brilliant pink petals—truly an indescribably charming sight. A little bit of ingratiation, yet not obsequious, instead giving a few parts feeling of intimacy and trust.

Making one unable to help wanting to forgive her.

Seeing this, Xie Wei suddenly scoffed. His fingers exerted force, actually pinching her jaw and forcing her to raise her head. His voice held not half a trace of mercy, instead carrying a clarity so frightening in its coldness: “Having been my student for so long, your strategies and vision haven’t grown, but you’ve become quite practiced at these inferior third-rate tricks! Who taught you?”

He could effortlessly draw a full bow—how ordinary was that strength?

With just a little force, Jiang Xuening was already hurting.

Tears immediately welled in her eyes. Hearing his questioning, she only felt thunder crashing in her ears. She remembered that this attitude of hers likely most incurred Xie Wei’s disgust—it had been the same in the previous life. Terrified, she no longer dared speak.

Xie Wei looked down at her from his height, saying coldly: “Not killing you is because I consider your nature not bad. Only in this world, the bad must be killed, but the stupid even more cannot be kept. I spare your life, but you treat it as child’s play. Wanting to save someone, yet unable to think of even a slightly more clever method, insisting on sacrificing yourself. Ningning, your studies have truly been wasted!”

Jiang Xuening froze.

But Xie Wei seemed to have reached the extreme of disgust with her. He finally released his hand, lowered his eyelids without looking at her again, and said: “Get over there and practice the qin.”

Jiang Xuening stared at him blankly for a long while. She couldn’t help thinking “what useful things have you taught me?” After a while she reacted, thinking her brain must have been caught in a door to dare let her mind wander at this time. So with some awkwardness she stood up.

Only her knee hurt somewhat from being pulled down to sit earlier.

She furrowed her brow slightly. Not knowing why, she inexplicably felt somewhat guilty. She’d lost her usual domineering temperament and didn’t dare complain. She endured it herself and looked toward the corner of the room.

On the other side was indeed a qin table with a qin placed upon it.

Jiang Xuening recognized it at a glance.

It was actually Xie Wei’s Emei.

This was the qin Xie Wei had crafted and used himself. Her eyelid jumped. Looking left and right without seeing any other qin, she was already somewhat timid in her heart and didn’t quite dare touch it. However, seeing Xie Wei sitting over there with no intention of instructing her, she could only steel herself and sit down.

Only she truly hadn’t practiced the qin regularly. Her hands were already rusty.

Just as she raised her hand to play two lines of “Blue Sky Chant,” she hit a wrong note.

Frightened, she looked up at Xie Wei, but saw his wrist resting on his knee, fingertips hanging down. He seemed to be sitting motionlessly in that dimly lit place, his expression obscure. Not knowing what he was thinking about, he at least didn’t come to scold her.

So she calmed slightly.

She quickly corrected it, pretending nothing happened, and continued playing.

The slightly trembling qin notes flowed from the gently swaying strings. The tone quality was extremely good—high notes like clear phoenixes crying, low notes like orioles singing intermittently. At expansive, expressive passages it rushed up to the heavens; encountering tender, heartbreaking moments it became mournful and melancholic.

Both Jianshu and Daoqin listened from outside.

In the quiet night without human voices, only accompanied by the fine sound of snow pressed thick on the pines, rustling down.

Inside the simple, clean dwelling permeated a strong medicinal smell. The physician had just changed the medicine on Zhang Zhe’s wound and rebound it, even sighing: “How dangerous—if the vital points had been injured, with such a deep knife wound, it would likely have cost your life…”

Zhang Zhe closed his robe, but suddenly looked toward the window lattice outside.

In the pitch-black courtyard lay mountain and tree shadows. That qin music floated over continuously without cease. Initially somewhat awkward, playing longer gradually added a few parts of proficiency, actually gaining a taste of easy mastery.

In such circumstances, the only one who would bring a qin along was that Teacher Xie.

It was his qin.

But not his music.

Zhang Zhe lowered his eyelids, allowing that physician to take the medicine chest and leave. He raised his hand to slowly touch the wound on his shoulder. That pain hid in the depths, lingering and not dissipating.

He listened for a very long time before the qin music gradually ceased.

Jiang Xuening truly didn’t know whether she’d played for half an hour or a full hour. She only felt her fingertips were about to be cut by the strings. Really unable to withstand it anymore, she boldly stopped.

Looking over, Xie Wei who had originally been sitting had at some point already reclined.

She stood up, walked over with light hands and light feet, and called out softly: “Teacher Xie?”

Xie Wei leaned against the pillow at the side, eyes closed. Even with the soft warm candlelight illuminating a few parts, his pale face truly had little color. He seemed to have fallen asleep. Without the frightening cold and fierce aura from earlier, his smooth features were quiet as deep mountains. Yet he still made one not dare disturb him even half a bit, fearing to startle this celestial being.

Jiang Xuening immediately fell silent upon seeing this.

She stood in front, not daring to call again. Pondering in her heart, she thought this was actually an excellent opportunity—she should properly oil her feet and slip away. So like a cat, she tiptoed toward the door.

Only, seeing she’d reached the doorway, she looked back, bit her lip slightly, hesitated for a moment, then still walked back. She pulled over a velvet blanket from the side, held her breath, and bit by bit placed it over his shoulder.

This posture was rather like being a thief.

Then she pried open the door again and slipped out.

Jianshu and the others had been waiting outside the door for quite some time. Seeing her emerge and looking back, they were about to speak.

Jiang Xuening quickly raised one finger to her lips.

Jianshu and Daoqin immediately froze.

She greatly lowered her voice, mouthing the words: “Teacher fell asleep!”

“…”

Jianshu and Daoqin froze again, exchanged glances, and couldn’t help but be astonished.

Jiang Xuening, having survived the disaster, was as happy as a mouse that had stolen oil. She waved to the two of them, picked up the umbrella she’d leaned against the wall earlier, and not needing anyone to see her off, with light steps already made her escape.