“Senior Sister… actually… I never liked you. It was all an act.”
After saying his final words, Chu Yuan closed his eyes.
[Would you like to choose to be reborn?]
He resolutely pressed the confirm button.
‘Farewell! Lao Tong!’
‘Farewell! My status as a licking dog!’
‘Farewell! All you cultivators of the Fengling Yueying Sect!’
—
Chu Yuan was reborn.
When he opened his eyes again, a dilapidated room with bare walls greeted his sight.
Outside the window stood a locust tree that felt both familiar and strange, its branches adorned with green bamboo lanterns unique to the side branch of the Chu Clan.
In the distance, the rhythmic thumping of women washing clothes mingled with the sounds of children chasing each other and laughing.
Chu Yuan’s gaze turned vacant.
‘Where am I?’
‘I remember the day the system suddenly activated during my first life, I was participating in the discipleship ceremony at the Heavenly Sword Sect.’
‘The very first licking dog mission was to give the Warm Sun Jade to my Senior Sister, only to be rejected on the spot.’
The environment here was clearly not within the Heavenly Sword Sect. Instead, it looked like…
Chu Yuan searched his memories and quickly realized where he was: Xuanji City of the Xuanyuan Immortal Dynasty, the territory of the Chu Clan side branch.
At that time, he had been using the alias Chu Yuan. On the surface, he was an orphan whose parents had both passed away. In reality, he was the only bloodline of the Sacred Lord of Taixu.
Precisely because he was the last of that bloodline, the Sacred Lord had made such arrangements to protect him from external assassination attempts and to temper his character.
After clarifying the situation, he couldn’t help but sigh.
‘This “Chu Yuan” alias is perfect! From now on, I’ll use this name to start my new life!’
*Knock, knock, knock.*
The sound of knocking suddenly rang out. A clear, gentle female voice came from outside the door.
“A’Yuan? It’s me.”
The voice was soft, carrying a hint of worry she couldn’t quite hide.
He stood up and walked toward the door.
The moment the door opened, morning light flooded in, illuminating the graceful figure standing outside.
Her black hair was like a waterfall, loosely tied into a cloud-drifting bun. A plain-colored dress clung to her figure; her waist was so slender it looked as though it might snap in the wind, yet further up were exaggerated curves, the fabric stretched full like snow-capped mountains.
Chu Yuan vaguely recognized her as his childhood friend, Gu Qingwan.
When they were young, she used to follow him to the creek to catch fish. If her dress got wet, she would cry, too afraid to go home. He would drape his own dried clothes over her and carry her over the back mountain to her front door.
She would lean against his back and whisper softly, “Brother A’Yuan is the best.”
He remembered that after his adoptive parents passed away one after another, she had knelt outside the funeral hall for a whole night to keep watch with him. At dawn, she stood up and quietly pressed a Peace Buckle into his palm.
“I prayed for this before the Buddha. No matter where A’Yuan goes, you must stay safe and sound.”
Now, the little girl who had been following him since she could walk had blossomed into a charming and gentle beauty.
At this moment, her delicate hand lifted a food box with carved wooden edges.
“A’Yuan, I heard you were injured a few days ago. I’ve been wanting to see you, but the clan wouldn’t allow it… I finally found a chance today. I-I brought you some Osmanthus Cake. Would you like to try some?”
Gu Qingwan’s voice was soft and sweet as she looked at Chu Yuan with eyes full of hope. As she tilted her head, a few stray strands of hair fell by her ears, swaying gently like willow branches brushing the water’s surface.
Chu Yuan’s throat moved slightly. “Uh… Wan’er, it’s windy outside. Come in first.”
Gu Qingwan walked into the room with light, graceful steps, bringing a breeze of fragrance that left Chu Yuan momentarily dazed.
She scanned the surroundings, a flash of heartache crossing her eyes. This room was too small—a table, a chair, a bed, and a cabinet were all it contained.
There was also a sword on the table. The scabbard was badly worn, making Gu Qingwan’s eyes turn red instantly.
‘Is that the sword A’Yuan usually uses?’
She remembered that when they were young, the sword he used was clearly a standard-issue longsword from the clan, forged at least from refined iron. But ever since his parents died, his treatment had worsened day by day. The resources for the side branch were already meager, and since he refused to bow his head and beg, he had lived in such poverty all these years.
She placed the carved food box on the table. “A’Yuan, eat the cake first. I just made it this morning; it’s still warm.”
When the food box was opened, a sweet scent of osmanthus permeated the air. It was Osmanthus Cake, yet it was different from the ordinary kind.
The body of the cake was a translucent pale gold, and one could vaguely see whole golden osmanthus flowers embedded inside. On the surface, a branch of osmanthus was painted with icing sugar; the branches were slender and the petals were spread out, looking lifelike.
Chu Yuan recognized this as the Golden Osmanthus Soul-Nourishing Cake, a family recipe of Gu Qingwan’s.
In his previous life, he had made it for his Senior Sister to complete a licking dog mission, and the process was extremely complex. This cake could not only satisfy hunger but also nourish the spirit. Taking it after an injury could help the circulation of qi and blood and settle the mind.
Chu Yuan picked up a piece and took a bite. A warm sweetness melted on the tip of his tongue and slid down his throat like the gentle hand of a lover, nourishing his meridians.
Gu Qingwan watched him, her autumn-water eyes beneath dark brows filled with anticipation and nervousness. “Is it delicious?”