Mu Cengxiao placed the basket of pastries on the desk and spoke somewhat hesitantly, “Senior Sister Meng, I bought these from Huajin Tower when I went down the mountain earlier. A few days ago, Huajin Tower celebrated its fiftieth anniversary opening, and Shopkeeper Jin specially had the cooks make these. I saw many people competing to buy them, so I bought some to bring back.”

Seeing Meng Ying staring at the basket with some hesitation, Mu Cengxiao quickly added, “These all contain spiritual energy and are beneficial for cultivation if eaten.” He coughed lightly, “Ever since returning to the sect, you’ve been busy with sect affairs day and night. Martial Uncle Yueqin said you’ve lost a lot of weight and have no appetite for your three meals. Perhaps changing your taste would be good.”

Meng Ying looked at him and said in a calm voice, “I understand. Thank you, Junior Brother. I will eat them.”

Mu Cengxiao’s expression relaxed, but he stood there without leaving.

Meng Ying asked, “Is there anything else, Junior Brother?”

Mu Cengxiao came back to his senses, “Nothing much.” He hesitated for a moment, then spoke as if casually, “By the way, Senior Sister, I heard there’s going to be a temple fair in Pingyang Town next month. Would you like to go see it?”

Meng Ying was startled. “A temple fair?”

Mu Cengxiao nodded, “The houses and farmsteads in Pingyang Town that were previously destroyed by the flood have also been mostly restored…”

Everything was moving forward, and the liveliness and prosperity of the past were slowly returning.

Meng Ying fell silent for a moment, her gaze returning to the books she hadn’t finished reading, only saying, “When next month comes, if I have free time, I’ll go take a look.”

Mu Cengxiao made an “mm” sound and gave Meng Ying a few more reminders before reluctantly leaving.

After his figure disappeared outside the door, a voice came from behind the pillars of the great hall.

“This boy comes to bring things to Meng Ying every few days—he has feelings for her.” Zhao Mayi stroked the small whiskers on his chin, looked at the person in front of him, and spoke teasingly, “Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

The blue-robed woman beside him spoke indifferently, “Young people’s affairs—why should I interfere?”

“This is strange indeed.” Zhao Mayi looked at her as if he didn’t recognize her, “Don’t you hate it most when disciples under your tutelage talk about love and romance? Meng Ying is your beloved disciple. Back when disciples showed interest in Meng Ying, you brought people in the middle of the night and nearly broke their legs. Now someone is courting Meng Ying right in front of you, and you’re turning a blind eye? Senior Sister, when did you change your nature?”

Yueqin glanced at the woman busy in the great hall and said coldly, “Young people—romance is also normal. If they don’t talk about romance when they’re young, are they supposed to be shameless when they’re old?” She looked meaningfully at Zhao Mayi.

Zhao Mayi: “……”

“Moreover, the world is unpredictable, and life inevitably has regrets.” Her voice suddenly lowered, as if thinking of something. After a long while, she said quietly, “Since that’s the case, following one’s heart is best.”

……

In the library pavilion, a batch of new books had recently arrived.

Cui Yufu was directing several disciples to move the books from the boxes onto the empty bookshelves.

These wooden boxes were large and heavy, and the library pavilion’s stairs were high. Moving these books to the highest level would indeed require considerable effort.

Cui Yufu’s talisman books were always written very quickly, making one wonder whether, out of the 365 days in a year, he spent 364 days writing new books.

The disciples opened the box lids and pulled out one heavy tome after another.

“Life Talismans That Get Smarter with Use,” “Drawing Talismans—This One Book Is Enough,” “One Incense Stick Talisman Memory Method,” “If Talismans Could Talk,” “When Talisman Arrays Come to My Home—Talisman Array Stories That Changed 100 Cultivators”…

The young disciple was speechless for a moment, then said to the person beside him, “I don’t understand why Master wants to write these books. Will anyone read these books?”

These talismans weren’t suitable for combat, and saying they were very convenient for daily travel wasn’t necessarily true either. They were tasteless to consume but wasteful to discard—even the children in the sect didn’t like reading them.

“Perhaps he’s bored and writes to make himself happy,” another disciple replied. “Master must also know no one wants to read them, which is why he has us put these books on the highest shelves. Forget it, as long as he’s happy.”

Cui Yufu, who had walked to the entrance of the library pavilion, stopped in his tracks and turned his head to look at the high shelves in the library pavilion.

It was as if there was a lively girl in green clothes sitting by the bookshelf, holding a book and reading with great interest.

The young disciple’s voice came from inside, “Master, we’ve put everything away!”

He withdrew his gaze and stepped toward the door. “Let’s go.”

……

Li Danshu’s alchemy hall was filled with smoke and mist year-round.

Early summer already had the intensity of scorching sun, and inside the alchemy hall was several degrees hotter than outside.

Before Mendong even approached Li Danshu’s pill furnace, he felt a wave of heat rushing toward him, instantly breaking out in a fine layer of sweat on his forehead. He had grown a bit taller than before, his childish air gradually fading as he became increasingly fair and handsome. As always, he still loved to tie his hair in two pink lotus flower buns, but compared to his former cute innocence, he now had an additional ethereal and otherworldly quality.

However, once he opened his mouth, he was still as annoying as before.

“Martial Uncle, your hall is too hot. It’s not like the sect doesn’t give you spirit stones—can’t you put up a few more cooling talismans?” The young boy held a large pile of spiritual herbs in his arms, complaining as he walked into the alchemy hall.

“What does a stinking brat understand?” Li Danshu wiped his sweaty forehead. “How can I control the fire temperature if I put up cooling talismans? How can I refine pills without proper fire control? Don’t give ridiculous suggestions!” Turning his head, he saw his disciple had just put a bunch of spiritual herbs into the pill furnace and immediately flew into a rage, cursing, “Who told you to put all the bone-washing leaves in? The spiritual herbs on Gufeng Mountain haven’t grown back after being flooded, and all the grass down the mountain has been plucked clean. Why don’t you throw yourself in? Wasteful thing!”

Mendong was used to this.

The newly accepted disciples were confused. When first learning pill refining, they always wasted quite a bit of materials. It was just that although Gufeng Mountain’s flood disaster had been resolved, the destroyed plants and herbs hadn’t fully recovered to their former state, so they couldn’t be as extravagant as in the past. Li Danshu’s scolding duration increased daily, almost catching up to Gu Baiying.

Mendong looked at the small disciple’s aggrieved face and couldn’t help but speak up to mediate, “Forget it, new disciples entering the sect—Martial Uncle, you don’t need to be too harsh. A few more tries will be fine. Everyone starts this way.”

“Stop making excuses for him.” Li Danshu said irritably, “When girl Zanxing first entered the sect, she never wasted things like this…” He suddenly stopped speaking, as if mentioning some tacit taboo, subconsciously falling silent.

The fire in the pill furnace burned with “chi chi” sounds. In a trance, there seemed to be a girl shaking a cattail fan sitting in front, unhurriedly following the firelight and putting spiritual herbs in one handful after another.

Looking again, it was suddenly empty.

Mendong sighed with some helplessness, “You think everyone is Yang Zanxing?”

Yang Zanxing was no longer here. There would never be a second Zanxing in this world.

He didn’t continue speaking, falling slowly silent in front of the dancing flames.