“In that case, Yu Cuiwei was actually very good to him,” Fu Zhumei said in wonder. “Why would he hate him?”

Meihua Yishu glared at him. “Having a notorious, demonic, and lustful transvestite as an elder brother, who is also the master of Bingzhu Temple—even if Seventh Brother unified the martial world and gained the entire realm, would people submit to him? If he wants to become a supreme ruler, without killing Yu Cuiwei, how could he win the hearts of all people under heaven?”

Fu Zhumei felt a chill in his heart. “He… he’s truly heartless.”

Meihua Yishu smashed the teapot with a “bang.” “Ha! But ten years ago when we brothers swore brotherhood and wandered together, Seventh Brother was graceful and elegant. Even when he spoke of killing Yu Cuiwei, it was presented as righteously eliminating a relative for the greater good…” He pushed away the table and stood up unsteadily. “With some people, no matter how you look at their surface, you can never see clearly what kind of person they truly are.”

Fu Zhumei supported him. Hearing these words, he couldn’t help but nod, thinking of Tang Lici with a heart full of fear and worry. “You won’t leave, will you?”

Meihua Yishu lay back down on the bed stiffly. Hearing this, he laughed loudly. “Hahaha… My martial arts… cough cough… less than ten or twenty percent remains. My joints are damaged—I’m already a cripple. What would I do if I left here? Let Seventh Brother capture me and make me crawl like a dog?” He glanced at Fu Zhumei. “I won’t leave, and you can’t leave either. Though Biluo Palace has a great reputation, none of its disciples have reached first-class martial arts level. Though you’re foolishly naive, at this time you’re the backbone pillar of Biluo Palace.”

Fu Zhumei hummed in agreement. “I won’t leave.” He spoke plainly but steadily. Often he didn’t know how to act, but when he knew what he should do, he no longer wavered.

“Boy, what’s your name?” Meihua Yishu suddenly asked.

“My surname is Fu,” Fu Zhumei rubbed his hair. “My name doesn’t sound good—just call me Little Fu.”

“I don’t want to die,” Meihua Yishu said with closed eyes. “Boy surnamed Fu, when facing enemies, don’t be too foolish.”

Fu Zhumei responded again. He swept up the broken porcelain from the floor, wiped the floorboards, and closed the door before leaving.

Outside the door were azure clouds and blue sky. He hurried to find Bi Lianyi. When he reached Bi Lianyi’s door, he paused for some reason without entering, walking directly toward Miss Hong’s courtyard instead.

However, Bi Lianyi wasn’t in Miss Hong’s courtyard. Fu Zhumei walked to the entrance and stood quietly. He saw the white-clothed woman standing under a large tree with withered, fallen leaves, her forehead pressed against the trunk as she stood silently, lost in thought. After a while, she turned around and sat leaning against the tree, staring blankly at the other side of the courtyard. Fu Zhumei followed her gaze and saw through the hollow windows of the surrounding wall that someone was walking by outside—wearing the uniform azure robes of Biluo Palace, though he couldn’t tell if it was Bi Lianyi. She watched that person walk from the eastern wall to the western wall, her eyes fixed and unblinking. Hugging her knees, she sighed quietly. “Who’s outside?”

Fu Zhumei carefully walked in, showing her the most benevolent expression he could manage. “Uh… it’s me.”

Miss Hong’s gaze swept across his face with bland disinterest. “Who are you?”

Fu Zhumei habitually went to rub his hair—his black hair had long been rubbed into a disheveled mess by him. “My surname is Fu, called Fu Zhumei. I’m that… person who was poisoned by you.”

Miss Hong’s lips curved slightly. “Having entered my courtyard, you’ve now been poisoned by another of my toxins.”

Fu Zhumei didn’t mind. “Ah… that’s fine. Miss Hong… are you cold?”

Miss Hong was slightly stunned. “Not cold.”

Fu Zhumei shook his head. “I don’t know if Little Yue has told you news about Liu Yan, but you don’t need to worry. I think Little Yue will definitely find him soon.” He said gently, “Don’t worry.”

Miss Hong’s chest rose and fell as she swung a slap toward his face. “What kind of people are you? Acting self-righteously as if you’re being good to others, everyone putting on smiling faces—does that make this young lady feel comfortable? Can that make this young lady become one of you? Even random passersby want to care about my mood? On what basis? What gives you the right to pry into others’ private affairs? Who do you think you are?”

Fu Zhumei dodged the slap, looking at Miss Hong in amazement, his face flushing red in an instant. “I… I just thought you looked very unhappy. I’m sorry, truly very sorry.” He almost fled in panic, his feet pushing off as he actually used lightness skills to leap out of the courtyard.

Miss Hong’s slap missed its target. Seeing him hastily retreat, she was instead stunned, vaguely feeling as if she had hurt him. This man had very high martial arts, and Wanyu Yuedan valued him greatly, even willing to risk going to Shaolin Temple for his sake to inquire about Liu Yan’s whereabouts. But this man… this man was completely different from what she had originally imagined.

She had never seen such a weak man who would feel guilty over a young woman’s few words, even forgetting his original purpose and hurriedly retreating like that. As if in that instant, nothing was more important than her feelings. She looked down on such weak men, but somehow, the gloom in her heart dispersed somewhat. In that moment, she understood that she was being respected.

That was something neither Liu Yan nor Wanyu Yuedan had ever given her—a kind of equal respect, without any stance or discrimination. That feeling was very familiar. Miss Hong slowly stood up from the ground. There was a man… who brought her a cup of ginger tea every day, never saying anything, who would bring her new bedding when it was windy or rainy, who had taken away the poison she had hidden. That kind of silence, that kind of persistence, that kind of patience—it made her irritated and uneasy, but she suddenly understood that kind of irritation was the same as her mindset when she had just tried to hit someone. It was simply because she had found an outlet for venting, not because of resentment or disgust.

Ever since the day she set a trap to harm Wanyu Yuedan, Bi Lianyi had rarely come to deliver ginger tea. Recently, he almost never entered the courtyard. But as the weather gradually grew cold, he delivered clothing and cotton quilts on schedule—only when he came, she didn’t see him.

That man who treated her well without complaint or regret had developed reservations about her because she wanted to kill Wanyu Yuedan.

She had always intended to kill Wanyu Yuedan. She had always been Liu Yan’s strategist. She had always been the enemy. But why did she suddenly feel somewhat panicked, as if… as if she had truly done something wrong…

Miss Hong clenched her fists, pressing down on her heart. From beginning to end, she had done nothing wrong, nothing at all. Everything she had done was for her lord.

And her lord… you… where exactly are you?

Fu Zhumei hastily retreated from Miss Hong’s courtyard, momentarily not knowing where to go. Turning around, he saw Bi Lianyi standing quietly at the corner of the wall outside Miss Hong’s courtyard, his expression calm. No one knew how long he had been standing there, but the trees outside the courtyard were tall and their branches concealed his figure, so Miss Hong couldn’t see him.

“Little Bi, Little Bi, Kuanglan Wuxing has left,” Fu Zhumei said with relief upon seeing him, then shamefully added, “I… I couldn’t stop him.”