On the ground, various grids were laid out with wooden stakes, the tops of the stakes sharpened to points. The competition was to see who could pass through the pointed grids first. Those who lost had to drink a large bowl of wine, while the winners received various prizes—a beautiful silk handkerchief, a small jar of expensive wine, or a glowing, luminous pearl.

Tian Fangfang took a fancy to that pearl and was eager to try, holding her Qianyang Axe. Seeing more and more participants joining, she greeted Gu Baiying and the others before rushing toward that crowd of people.

Zanxing was still a bit worried and asked Gu Baiying, “Master Uncle, will Senior Brother be alright going alone?”

Gu Baiying stared at Tian Fangfang’s retreating figure and said lazily, “Let him be.”

Just as they were speaking, high-pitched singing from young people came from over there. The tune was quite cheerful, and at first Zanxing couldn’t make out what they were singing, but gradually she began to understand.

A dark-skinned young man was singing vigorously: “Big moon, little moon, brother gets up to be a carpenter, sister-in-law gets up to make shoe soles, grandmother gets up to pound glutinous rice, the glutinous rice is pounded fragrant and sweet, beating gongs and drums to marry off the daughter—”

He was probably seventeen or eighteen years old, quite handsome. The bonfire illuminated his young face particularly brightly, and his singing voice soared as he tossed a brightly colored silk flower from his hand toward Meng Ying, who was sitting nearby. Meng Ying instinctively caught the silk flower and looked toward him. The young man scratched his head bashfully, while the other people surrounding him began to jeer and push him in their direction.

Zanxing asked, “What are they doing?”

Dou Niang quickly explained, “At the Auspicious Serpent Festival, young men and women of marriageable age sing to each other and exchange tokens to express their feelings. If they take a fancy to each other, they dance together—this is called ‘Moon Dancing.’ That… the fairy sister is too beautiful, so this young man is trying to court her.”

Zanxing looked at Meng Ying’s cold expression, then at Mu Cengxiao sitting beside Meng Ying. Good heavens, they were openly trying to steal someone’s love interest right in front of them?

The crowd surrounded the young man and walked over to Meng Ying’s side. Probably because Meng Ying was both beautiful and aloof, the group that had been pushing and shoving gradually quieted their teasing voices when they reached Meng Ying, and finally didn’t dare make a sound, only silently pushing the young man toward Meng Ying.

Mu Cengxiao frowned imperceptibly.

But Meng Ying looked calmly at the person before her: “What do you want?”

Her features were absolutely beautiful, and though the bonfire burned intensely, it couldn’t warm her expression by even a fraction. The young man was startled, paused for a moment, then gathered his courage to speak: “Miss, could you please dance with me?”

This was probably his most refined invitation ever.

Meng Ying’s gaze didn’t change in the slightest, her voice calm as still water: “No.”

Mu Cengxiao breathed a slight sigh of relief.

The young man looked somewhat disappointed, forced a smile, and walked away with his head hanging low.

Zanxing enjoyed watching the excitement and thought Mu Cengxiao would take some action. After all, she still couldn’t see any signs of a romantic storyline between these two, and now that the plot had already collapsed ridiculously, she wondered if it would affect their relationship.

However, although Meng Ying ruthlessly rejected the young man’s courtship, this seemed to set a precedent. Before long, countless silk flowers were continuously thrown toward Meng Ying. The young men of Wu Fan City competed to invite the fairy to dance, trying to make themselves the lucky ones. Meng Ying rejected wave after wave, but the people of Wu Fan City, living in this remote place, seemed not to know how to write the words “restraint.” The young men’s enthusiasm was comparable to the midday sun, with a determination to melt the iceberg at any cost.

Zanxing watched with great interest, thinking that if this continued, it wouldn’t be surprising if Mu Cengxiao started fighting with these men. She figured that if not for their current loss of yuanli, Meng Ying should have already directly attacked, splitting the dancing handkerchiefs in the center of the bonfire with one sword strike.

“Senior Sister Meng is popular.” Zanxing poked at the bonfire in front of her with a tree branch, resting her chin on her hand as she watched Meng Ying batting away the silk flowers on her body, then turned to the person beside her: “We…”

Her words stopped abruptly.

A young, round-faced girl stood in front of Gu Baiying. She had bright almond eyes, full red lips like flower petals, and her long hair was braided diagonally. In this desert, she was like a pure, adorable little lamb. She nervously clutched her skirt, not daring to look at Gu Baiying, her face red as she said, “This young master…”

Before she could finish speaking, Gu Baiying impatiently interrupted her: “No.”

The girl looked up in surprise. Gu Baiying raised his eyes to look at her, and though the young man’s expression wasn’t as cold as Meng Ying’s, it wasn’t much better either.

“S-sorry!” The girl bit her lip somewhat regretfully and ran away with her head turned.

Zanxing looked at Gu Baiying, who noticed her gaze and asked, “What are you looking at? Jealous?”

Zanxing: “……”

She said, “Master Uncle, can you speak properly?”

“Why should I speak properly?”

“People who don’t speak properly are always unpopular,” Zanxing said.

As soon as she finished speaking, another young girl in a tasseled long shirt approached from the side, blushing as she stuffed a silk flower into Gu Baiying’s hand, then shyly left.

Gu Baiying tilted his head to look at Zanxing, provocatively flicking the silk flower at his fingertips.

Zanxing: “……”

Well, whether someone was popular or not probably had nothing to do with personality. Even in a male-oriented power fantasy novel, the principle that everyone loves beauty still applies universally.

The young girls over there were calling Dou Niang’s name. Dou Niang said, “Please wait here for a moment, honorable immortals. I’ll go say hello first.” She walked toward her companions, and those girls chatted and laughed, occasionally glancing toward Gu Baiying.

Zanxing also looked toward Gu Baiying. Setting aside everything else, when he didn’t speak, this face was indeed quite striking.

Just as she was thinking this, Tian Fangfang in the distance had already joined the competition. The wooden grid area was surrounded by a full circle of people, very lively. Zanxing stood up and said, “I’ll go check on Senior Brother,” then walked toward Tian Fangfang.

After Zanxing left, Mendong sat down by the bonfire. Seeing no one around, he suddenly reached out and grabbed Gu Baiying’s wrist.

Gu Baiying frowned slightly.

But Mendong’s expression changed somewhat. He looked surprised for a moment, then his gaze became anxious. He moved closer to Gu Baiying and whispered, “Master Uncle, did you forcibly circulate your qi again?”

Gu Baiying shook off his hand and answered without much concern, “Don’t talk nonsense.”

“You can fool others, but you can’t fool me!” Mendong became more anxious, lowering his voice: “After the merfolk incident, I already told you that, given your current spiritual meridian condition, you can’t forcibly circulate qi anymore. Otherwise, your yuanli will stagnate and your spiritual meridians will burst—you’ll be in danger.” He thought of something and stared at Gu Baiying in disbelief: “Could it be that when you and Yang Zanxing fell into the painting realm…”

Gu Baiying’s eyes flickered slightly.

At that time in the thatched cottage within the painting realm, Zanxing’s divine consciousness had been pulled into the beauty painting. He didn’t know what was happening inside the painting, and was concerned that if too much time passed, Zanxing’s consciousness would be permanently trapped in the painting. He could only gather his yuanli and use his cultivation to forcibly break through the prohibition on the painting to enter it. Although it seemed like nothing serious happened, his spiritual meridians were already damaged, and when entering the teleportation array, he had felt his weakness.

However…

Gu Baiying glanced at the person in front of him and suddenly flicked his finger against the little boy’s head. Mendong cried, “Ow!” and covered his head, saying, “Master Uncle, why did you hit me again?”

“I know my own body’s condition. There’s nothing seriously wrong right now,” the young man paused, then warned him: “Don’t let others know.”

“I naturally won’t tell anyone,” Mendong put down his hand and sighed, looking deeply troubled: “But your current condition—you can hide it for a while, but not forever. This trip of ours has been a case of losing both the lady and the soldiers. We originally came to watch over the Qin Chong seed, but now the seed is still with Yang Zanxing, and you, Master Uncle, are becoming more and more dangerous.”

“However,” this little devil still wouldn’t give up: “Are you not going to dual cultivate with Yang Zanxing?”

Gu Baiying looked at him calmly: “If you don’t want to live, I can fulfill that wish for you right now.”

Mendong shut his mouth and looked toward Zanxing in the distance.

The woman stood outside the crowd, watching the group of people dancing around the bonfire. The gorgeous, colorful clothes of those young men and women made the desolate desert bright and lively. The intense drumbeat seemed like it would never stop, and those passionate emotions seemed to infect her, bringing some smiles to her face as well. Yet she was also excluded from the celebrating crowd, only quietly and absent-mindedly watching the people, observing the songs and laughter of lovers, out of place yet with nowhere to hide.

“How pitiful,” Mendong sighed.

Gu Baiying followed his gaze and asked somewhat puzzled, “Pitiful, how?”

“Look at Senior Sister Meng.” Mendong gestured for him to look. Gu Baiying turned his head and saw that in front of and behind Meng Ying, there were silk flowers scattered all over the ground.

“Both are female disciples of the sect, so why is Senior Sister Meng so beloved while Yang Zanxing is left out in the cold?”

Gu Baiying raised an eyebrow: “Why?”

“Of course it’s because of appearance.” Mendong carefully explained to him: “Senior Sister Meng is beautiful as a flower, appearing like a fairy descending to earth in these mortals’ eyes, while Yang Zanxing has a black scar on her face. Master Uncle,” this child moved closer to the young man beside him and sighed with mature understanding, “you and I are both men, and we all know what men are like—shallow, hypocritical, and coveting beauty. Yang Zanxing must feel very disappointed right now. Isn’t that pitiful?”

Gu Baiying flicked his finger at him: “You little brat who hasn’t even grown all your hair yet—what do you know about being a man?”

Mendong angrily covered his head: “Anyway, she’s very disappointed!”

“What’s wrong with having a scar on her face?” Gu Baiying glanced at Zanxing in the distance and said casually, “Didn’t Li Danshu give her a Jade Beauty Pill? And it’s just a black scar—is it really that ugly?”

Mendong was shocked: “Isn’t it ugly?”

Gu Baiying spoke carelessly: “Doesn’t seem to make much difference.”

“Master Uncle,” Mendong paused for a full moment before saying, “your aesthetic sense is truly unique.”

Over there, Zanxing, who was staring at the crowd in a daze, was suddenly patted on the back. She turned around to see a refined young man standing before her.

He said, “Miss, could you please help me with something?”