The library was still cold and deserted today.

Unlike the martial arts hall, which was packed with people daily, the library was as quiet as an abandoned building. No wonder this place was so desolate—the martial arts hall contained cultivation methods and heart sutras that were greatly beneficial to cultivators. While the library looked respectable on the surface, most of the books placed within were travel journals and miscellaneous texts. Young disciples often came here to find storybooks to pass the time, while older disciples were so busy memorizing cultivation methods that they had no leisure to waste time here.

Therefore, the young attendant guarding the entrance was so idle all day that he could even count the 8,648 floor tiles in the entire building.

Ever since Zanxing came, the library finally had some human presence. Today, unusually, two people had come to the library.

Mendong walked out of the library with great swagger, hands clasped behind his back, followed by Mu Cengxiao, who looked hesitant. When passing by the gatekeeper attendant, he still seemed somewhat nervous.

After walking a good distance, Mu Cengxiao finally called out to Mendong, hesitating before asking: “Junior Brother, are these books you mentioned really useful?”

The stack of books in his hands had colorful covers, all miscellaneous texts like “One Hundred Dating Destinations in the Cultivation World,” “Complete Collection of Sweet Talk,” “A Hands-On Guide to Pursuing a Dao Companion,” “After Cultivating, I Became a Fairy’s White Moonlight,” and such.

“Didn’t I tell you already?” The child put on a stern face, adopting the posture of an elder, lecturing him: “Pursuing a dao companion requires proper methods. How can you be as rash as those inexperienced youngsters? I’m only teaching you because of our friendship from traveling together several times. In the entire Taiyan Sect, if I can’t be your strategist, then no one can.”

A hand reached from behind to grab his ear, sneering: “What strategist? A worthless strategist?”

The young man stood behind him, his expression showing he’d reached his limit: “How conceited. Haven’t seen you for a moment, and you’re spouting nonsense again.”

Mendong covered his ear and broke free from his grip, righteously retorting: “Master Uncle, how can this be called spouting nonsense? Who in our sect doesn’t know my reputation as Mendong the ‘Messenger of True Love’? I’ve delivered at least eight hundred, if not a thousand, love poems for those senior brothers and sisters. How to pursue dao companions—I couldn’t be clearer about it.”

Gu Baiying looked at him coldly: “Oh, then recite a couple for us to hear.”

“I’ll recite them then.” Mendong coughed twice. “Listen carefully.”

“‘I must have eaten too much salt.’ ‘Huh?’ ‘Otherwise, why would I always be idle thinking of you!’

“Do you know what alcohol is easiest to get drunk on?—Your everlasting love.

“Do you know what god I like?—Your gaze.

“After meeting you, I only want to become one type of person.—Your person.

“Do you know? We’re both quite excessive. How excessive?—You’re excessively beautiful, I’m excessively infatuated.”

He rattled off several lines in one breath, then looked at the two of them proudly: “How about that? Isn’t every word a pearl?”

Gu Baiying spoke expressionlessly: “Makes me want to vomit.”

“Really?” Mu Cengxiao seemed hesitant, speaking uncertainly: “So this is how everyone in the sect writes love poems. It’s indeed quite different from those outside.”

“Idiot, you couldn’t believe this brat’s nonsense, could you?” Gu Baiying looked at Mu Cengxiao incredulously: “Are you sure you want to write this to Meng Ying?”

“Senior Sister Meng is different from other girls. I can’t write those scholarly verses either, which would only invite ridicule. But this kind of poetry…” Mu Cengxiao looked troubled: “I might not be able to write it either.”

“Are you sure this is called poetry?” Gu Baiying pressed his forehead: “Forget it, I’m not the one sending it. Do whatever you want.”

“By the way, Senior Brother Mu,” Mendong looked up at him, “Though I agreed to be your strategist, you still need to clarify things with your childhood friend. Senior Sister has a noble temperament and would never compete with other women for favor. If you hope Senior Sister will be jealous and fight for you, you’re gravely mistaken. If things between you and Liu Yunxin remain unclear, you won’t need to write any poems—Senior Sister won’t even glance at you again.”

“No, no,” Mu Cengxiao quickly waved his hands, his face somewhat red: “Yunxin and I grew up together and only have sibling affection. After our parents died, I once thought of marrying Yunxin to take care of her for life, since her health is poor and I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else. Later, after entering the Taiyan Sect, I met Senior Sister…” He paused before continuing: “Between Yunxin and me, there’s only mutual support, no romantic feelings. Before going to the treasure land, I had already clarified things with Yunxin, and she had long understood my feelings. I, Mu Cengxiao, am absolutely not a fickle person, and have never thought of enjoying the blessings of multiple wives. I can swear it!”

Gu Baiying crossed his arms and suddenly spoke: “What about Yang Zanxing?”

“Huh?”

The young man’s brow showed slight impatience: “Doesn’t Yang Zanxing have feelings for you? What do you think?”

Mu Cengxiao looked baffled: “Junior Sister Zanxing has feelings for me? I used to think so too, but… I think it was mostly a misunderstanding.” In the sacred tree’s spiritual domain in the treasure land, both of them had been affected by the Liuhuan grass poison. Even though Zanxing wasn’t influenced by the flower fragrance, her behavior at the time really didn’t seem like someone with feelings for him. It was more like encountering a flood or wild beast—avoiding him at all costs.

Gu Baiying snorted lightly and said nothing, clearly not believing what he said.

Seeing this, Mendong thought for a moment, then grabbed Mu Cengxiao’s arm and walked forward: “Alright, Senior Brother Mu, since you have this determination, I’ll help you completely. Come, let’s read through today’s selected books first, and I’ll find some key points for you.”

Their voices gradually faded. Gu Baiying was staring at their retreating figures in a daze when a voice suddenly emerged from behind: “What are you watching so seriously?”

Gu Baiying jumped in surprise. Zanxing stood before him, smiling as she followed his gaze forward: “Eh, why are Senior Brother and Mendong together?”

Gu Baiying stepped back two paces, pulling the distance between them, pausing before stiffly speaking: “Are you looking for Mu Cengxiao?”

“No,” Zanxing answered quickly: “I’m looking for you. I just came from Xiaoyao Hall—you weren’t there. I thought you were still in closed-door cultivation. Master Uncle, how have you been feeling lately?”

She stared at him with a face full of concern.

Gu Baiying turned his head away, saying, “So-so, I won’t die.”

“Don’t say unlucky things when there’s nothing wrong.” Zanxing reached out to cover his mouth without thinking: “Hasn’t Fourth Master Uncle already used the sacred tree fruit to refine medicine for you? The Serpent Witch’s answers are never false. She said the sacred tree fruit could help repair your spiritual meridians, so it will succeed. Then your spiritual meridian problem will be completely resolved with no lingering effects.”

She chattered on for a while before realizing the subtle nature of her posture.

Her palm happened to be covering Gu Baiying’s lips—slightly cool, soft—while the young man’s eyes were clear and deep, making her palm grow warm as well.

Zanxing quickly withdrew her hand, then felt this action seemed too much like “the lady doth protest too much,” and hastily changed the subject: “By the way, Master Uncle, where’s my stick?”

The Wuyou Sword, brought back from the treasure land, though its sword spirit had been erased, was still a top-grade spirit artifact. Among their group, everyone had their preferred spirit artifacts; only Zanxing still used that patched-up Panhua Stick. So Gu Baiying had taken Zanxing’s Wuyou Sword to Huajin Tower, which had extensive trade connections and skilled weapon smiths who could forge the Wuyou Sword into a staff weapon suitable for Zanxing.

“It’ll be ready in a couple of days—I’ll bring it back for you,” Gu Baiying said.

The atmosphere fell silent again.

Gu Baiying didn’t criticize and belittle her as he used to, and Zanxing couldn’t find any teasing words to deal with him either. However, just standing side by side like this was inevitably awkward. Her gaze fell on Gu Baiying’s waist. Originally wanting to rack her brains for some new topic, she unexpectedly made a discovery and asked: “By the way, Master Uncle, where’s your Jiexin Bell?”

Gu Baiying’s expression stiffened.

But that person still approached recklessly, staring intently at him as if trying to discover clues from his expression. Zanxing asked: “Last time going to the treasure land, I don’t think I saw it either… Master Uncle, where’s your Jiexin Bell? Why aren’t you wearing it?”

“It broke.” The young man spoke calmly, but his hands, hidden behind his back, clenched slightly.

“I don’t believe it. That Jiexin Bell is a spirit artifact after all—how could it break so easily? Besides, it never rang before, so how do you know it broke?” She pressed step by step, forcing Gu Baiying to retreat step by step, until suddenly she looked at him with realization: “Could it be that it rang?”

Gu Baiying started coughing violently.

Zanxing stood in place, as if discovering the truth, murmuring to herself: “Last time on Duoluo Platform, when spinning the ladle, Putao asked if you had someone you loved, and you didn’t answer. Now it seems you do.” She whispered: “But that’s not right. All this time, we never heard the Jiexin Bell ring. Maybe it’s not someone from our sect, but if you had some situation, Mendong follows you around daily and would be the first to notice.”

“Could it be…” She looked up at Gu Baiying, her gaze bright and seemingly meaningful.

Gu Baiying felt agitated being stared at like this, subconsciously pursing his lips: “Could it be what?”

“When we were in Wufan City, the mirage woman flirted with you and wanted you to stay as her male favorite. You righteously refused at the time—could it be you were happy inside? That makes sense. She was so beautiful and quite charming—men all like that type, right? Saying no with your mouth while your body is honest. Naturally, you’d be moved.”

The young man’s face quickly lost its embarrassment, becoming calm and expressionless.

He stared at Zanxing for a full moment before finally saying: “Yang Zanxing.”

“What?”

“I am sick.” After saying this, he stopped paying attention to Zanxing and turned to leave.

Only Zanxing remained in place.

Zanxing watched his retreating figure, her previous teasing expression gradually disappearing.

After a moment, she lowered her head and sighed helplessly before following and leaving as well.