By the window was a table and chair, also carved from wood. On the table sat a “vase” made of stone with a single foxtail grass stuck in it, looking particularly pitiful. Gu Baiying was standing in front of the table, flipping through something in his hands.

Zanxing approached and asked: “What is this?”

There were dozens of white papers, covered with writing. Looking carefully, they were all poems and prose. The handwriting was extremely beautiful, both elegant and graceful, immediately catching the eye. Zanxing picked up one sheet and read: “A beauty emerges from the southern kingdom, brilliant as a hibiscus. Her bright teeth never part, her fragrant heart holds itself in vain…”

She picked up another: “Purple vines hang from cloud-touched trees, flower vines suited for spring sun. Dense leaves hide singing birds, fragrant wind lingers with the beauty.”

Zanxing picked up another: “Graceful skin like a true fairy, coming to accompany frost and ice. Washed clean of lead and yellow. Her plain face initially without a trace of makeup…”

Zanxing: “…”

Gu Baiying snatched the poems from her hands, saying impatiently: “Stop reading, they’re all about ‘beauties.'”

“How beautiful must this beauty be? To have so many written about her.” Zanxing looked at the thick stack in Gu Baiying’s hands and couldn’t help sighing: “There must be a hundred poems here?”

Gu Baiying disgustedly put down the poems in his hands: “Really disgusting.”

Though Zanxing also felt it was a bit sappy, thinking carefully, this person might not necessarily be a lovesick fool. She pushed open the window, looked toward the giant tree outside, and said to Gu Baiying: “I looked through this house just now. There are two rooms here, two beds, two bowls, and two cups on the table outside. Two people should be living here, right? Perhaps it’s a pair of immortal lovers in seclusion here, with the husband writing poems praising his wife’s beauty. This could be considered marital romance.”

“Romance?” Gu Baiying raised an eyebrow slightly: “Unable to get out yet still in the mood to compose poetry here, that’s quite romantic indeed.”

Zanxing fell silent. Honestly, she also felt that the most important thing right now was to get out first. But walking toward the mountain, there was a barrier, and the path back they had already seen—endless wilderness with no end in sight. They really couldn’t see where the exit might be.

Mimi appeared sneakily from somewhere, her mouth bulging with something. Zanxing pinched her nose, and Mimi shrank her head back, suddenly spitting out what was in her mouth.

These were two mud-like objects, covered all over with Mimi’s saliva.

After Zanxing wiped off the saliva with a handkerchief and looked at the objects in her hand, she discovered they were two clay figurines.

They could be considered figurines, though these were carved so ugly that at first glance they looked like two monkeys. However, one of the figurines had a small flower carved on its head and appeared to be wearing a “skirt,” so it should be a “woman.” The other figurine wore ordinary clothes and pants, so it must be the “man.”

Zanxing didn’t know where Mimi had dug these things up from. She examined the puppets in her hands and showed them to Gu Baiying: “It seems my guess was right. Living here should be a man and a woman, and they’re also lovers.”

Gu Baiying glanced at the clay figures in her hands: “Are you sure these are people?”

“Of course.” Zanxing looked into the distance: “But we haven’t seen any other people here. Should we go out and look for them?”

“No need.” Gu Baiying pondered for a moment: “This house has no dust and looks very clean, not like it’s been uninhabited for a long time.” He wiped the table with his fingertip—the table was clean without a speck of dust. “Let’s just wait for them here.”

This suited Zanxing perfectly, as she was truly tired after walking for so long.

The two sat down in the house.

This house seemed quite lived-in, with bowls, chopsticks, and cups arranged on the table. However, Zanxing didn’t find any food like firewood, rice, or flour in the house. The backyard of the thatched cottage did have a bluestone water tank filled with clear water, with a wooden ladle made from a cut gourd floating on top. Zanxing used the ladle to scoop up some water to taste—the water was sweet and cool, with a hint of plant fragrance.

Looking at Gu Baiying, he had already begun sitting in front of that square wooden bed in the house, starting to cultivate.

Zanxing saw the wound on his arm where the blood had dried. She wanted to remind him to bandage it, but was afraid of disturbing this young master’s diligent practice, so she gave up. Mimi seemed to love this paradise very much, lying spread-eagled in the center of the courtyard in a big “X” shape, sunbathing. Zanxing sat down on the doorstep, looking at the two clay figures in her hands, feeling somewhat melancholy.

She didn’t know the background of the house’s owners. In the stone chamber in the tiger’s den abyss, she had used “Qing E Nian Hua Gun” to open the secret realm in the stone chamber and come to this place. She wondered if it was coincidental or if someone had deliberately arranged it. If it was just a coincidence, did this count as changing the plot? If someone had deliberately arranged it… Why specifically “Qing E Nian Hua Gun”? Could this place have some connection to Qinghua Xianzi?

The owners of the thatched cottage didn’t know how long they had lived here. Generally, those dwelling in secret realms were worldly masters. If even worldly masters couldn’t get out, what would she and Gu Baiying do if they couldn’t get out either?

And there were Tian Fangfang and the others—she wondered how they were doing now…

The sun gradually sank westward, spilling golden light across the winding river, until the last trace of sunset glow completely disappeared into darkness. The tranquil paradise welcomed nightfall.

The owners of the thatched cottage still hadn’t returned.

The courtyard began to cool down. Mimi stood up, shook her fur, lightly leaped to Zanxing’s side to nuzzle her, then slowly walked into the house.

Zanxing rubbed her aching waist, stood up, and followed her into the house.

On the stone table was an oil lamp, its oil probably made from crushed grass stems, with a pitiful bit of wick floating on top. Zanxing lit it with a fire starter, and immediately the windows of the thatched cottage glowed with warm orange lamplight.

In the inner room, Gu Baiying, who had been cultivating, opened his eyes.

Zanxing placed a cup filled with water in front of him and sat down on a stool: “Master Uncle, they still haven’t returned.”

He looked up: “Getting anxious?”

“No.”

“Then why do you look so listless?”

Zanxing touched her deflated stomach, picked up Mimi, who was trying to sneak pills from the Qiankun Bag, and set her aside, saying: “I’m hungry.”

Gu Baiying immediately showed a disgusted expression: “How are you hungry again?”

“What do you mean ‘again’?” Zanxing reasoned with him: “From entering the secret realm in Li’er Kingdom until now, the last meal I ate was the grilled fish Senior Brother Tian gave me. I don’t know how much time has passed since then, but it’s been at least a day. I haven’t eaten for a whole day—shouldn’t I be hungry?”

Gu Baiying scoffed: “You’re an immortal cultivator.”

“I was an ordinary mortal for seventeen years. I’ve been formally cultivating at Gufeng Mountain for less than a year. Master Uncle, don’t be too harsh on me.”