Chapter 22: Each with His Own Thoughts

Dawn arrived.

Ye Chen always woke up at this hour.

The air still carried the cool, damp scent of dew, mingled with the fragrance of earth and flowers.

He pushed open the door.

A path of light instantly stretched out beneath his feet, with countless tiny specks of dust floating within the beam.

The environment was peaceful and beautiful.

However, today’s tranquility was shattered by the sound of hurried footsteps.

Xiaoxiao almost tumbled and crawled into the courtyard, her face—usually adorned with a sweet smile—now filled with panic, her eyes red like ripe cherries, her hair disheveled.

“Young Master!”

Her voice trembled, edged with tears, as if the sky had fallen.

“What happened?”

Ye Chen turned around, looking at her flustered appearance, his tone calm.

“Young Master, you… you mustn’t think of doing anything rash!”

Xiaoxiao ran to him, nervously scanning him up and down, as if checking to see if he was unharmed.

“I… I went out to buy groceries this morning, and the whole city… the whole city is talking…”

She took a deep breath.

“They say the marriage between you and Miss Xiao is annulled! They said… said you were…”

She couldn’t bring herself to say the word “divorced,” finding it harsh and hurtful.

She had overheard the gossip at the street corner, women chattering with malicious delight, saying that the Ye family’s collateral branch could never climb high, and had been kicked away.

She had been so furious she trembled, abandoned her basket, and ran home, her mind filled with a single thought:

Would the Young Master be crushed by this blow?

After all, it was Xiao Liuli.

Once a cripple, now an immortal.

Yesterday, he stood tall because of her.

Today, he was knocked down, becoming the city’s laughingstock.

Such a fall from grace could break anyone.

“I… I think that Miss Xiao isn’t good at all!”

Xiaoxiao clenched her little fists, indignant for Ye Chen.

“She’s too cold, like a block of ice—not worthy of you, Young Master! Don’t be sad, in the future… in the future, Xiaoxiao will serve you for a lifetime!”

She finished speaking, then nervously watched Ye Chen, ready for any possible outburst—be it anger, sorrow, or despair.

Yet, Ye Chen simply listened quietly.

He reached out, his broad palm landing gently on Xiaoxiao’s head, ruffling her messy hair.

“Silly girl.”

His voice was warm, carrying a reassuring strength.

“Do I look like someone who would lose hope over this? Go on, breakfast isn’t made yet.”

The warmth in his palm was steady and real.

Xiaoxiao stared blankly at the Young Master’s clear eyes, seeing no shadow within them.

That extraordinary calmness was more convincing than any impassioned words.

The heart she’d carried on edge all the way home finally settled.

—

Above Qingyang City, clouds churned.

A Qingyu Airship shaped like a crescent moon sliced silently through the sky, driven by spiritual power, turning the land below into a miniature sand table.

At the bow, a layer of invisible Protective Shield blocked the fierce wind, causing the hair of the two figures to flutter.

Xiao Liuli stood silently in azure robes.

Her beauty was sharp, like a peerless sword drawn from its sheath—chilling and radiant.

Within three feet around her, the air seemed frozen, making the other chosen young men and women at the stern barely dare to breathe.

Beside her, Ling Qingshuang was another world entirely.

She quietly “listened” to the wind, a faint, almost invisible smile on her lips beneath the white silk, serene as bamboo after rain.

In her heart, she was calculating silently.

After joining the sect, how could she cultivate fastest? How could she find a reasonable excuse every month to return… to see him?

The term “Teacher” had already been quietly tucked away in her heart.

Because “Teacher” was for respect.

And “Ye Chen”—that name was for… longing.

Suddenly, Xiao Liuli lowered her eyes.

Her slender fingers reached into her robes, touching a piece of smooth jade.

It was an ordinary piece of Warm Jade.

On a night of cold agony, when the chill nearly killed her, he had handed it over casually for her to warm her hands.

She had thought she would forget it, yet unexpectedly, it became the only thing he left her—something with warmth.

Her fingertips felt the lingering heat, as if his body temperature still remained.

The icy mask on her face finally cracked.

A complex emotion, tinged with pain and tenderness, flickered in her eyes—seen by none.

His words had echoed in her mind all night, like a spell.

“The time we spent together will become a trivial speck of dust in your long life.”

Dust…

She let out a self-mocking laugh only she could hear.

What she treasured, the company that pulled her from the abyss, was— in his eyes—nothing but dust to be brushed away.

She had despaired for a moment.

But when dawn came, that despair was replaced by a fiercer emotion.

She understood.

It was not her mistake.

Ye Chen was wrong.

His talk of severing Mortal Love and pursuing the Great Dao was just a coward’s excuse.

Why should the truly strong abandon anything?

Why sever ties?

Shouldn’t they grasp everything they treasure, and carry it to the highest peak?

If you don’t understand, then I’ll teach you.

If you can’t see, then I’ll make you see.

She would become stronger than anyone, strong enough to overlook the entire Qingyun Holy Land, strong enough that he could no longer use the ridiculous “difference between clouds and mud” to push her away.

She would make him witness how the “Mortal Love” he dismissed would become her greatest strength to reach the summit.

Then, she would stand before him again, and ask—

Do you regret it?

At that thought, she withdrew her hand, tucking the Warm Jade deeper inside her clothes, pressing it close to her heartbeat.

As for Qingyang City, she had already made arrangements.

She had quietly activated the restored power of the Xiao family, leaving behind the most reliable “eyes” in the shadows.

Those “eyes” would not interfere with anything in that courtyard.

They would simply watch, ensuring that before she returned, no moths dared approach the lamp that belonged only to her.

She would not allow it.

That courtyard, that person, must remain exactly as she left them.

Every blade of grass, every breath—unchanged.

This was her obsession, and the Oath she made for herself.

Beside her, Ling Qingshuang was unaware of the storm within her companion.

She even thought today’s wind was especially gentle.

In a barely audible voice, she hummed a tuneless melody.

It was a song Ye Chen had hummed while instructing her.

She remembered it, just as she remembered the light scent of tea from him.

She thought, when she became very strong—strong enough to avenge the sect—she would return to that small courtyard, to sit with him, listen to the wind and rain, drink tea, and share laughter.

Time is long, and the future far away.

There was no rush.

Thus, with one soul burning with the fires of Revenge and obsession, and another filled with pure faith and sweet hope, the Qingyu Airship became a stream of light, vanishing into the sky.

A new chapter belonging to them, and a destined storm, quietly began.