“Senior Sister, this is called ‘Sour-Sweet Intent.'”
Lin Yue bit down on one, speaking indistinctly: “Your sword is too sweet, full of praise from the sect elders and the halo of a genius; but your heart is too sour, full of that past you can’t let go. This candied hawthorn is just right—first the sweetness of the syrup, then the sourness of the hawthorn, and finally, after chewing it thoroughly, a wave of lingering sweetness returns. Isn’t cultivating the sword just cultivating the heart? If you haven’t even chewed through a mortal hawthorn, how can you chew through the ice in your heart?”
Chu Wanning stared blankly at the string of bright red fruit in her hand.
This theory was absurd to the extreme.
Under normal circumstances, she would definitely think this was blasphemy against the Sword Dao.
But at this moment, looking at Lin Yue’s face—ordinary yet radiating a certain clarity—she found herself inexplicably raising the candied hawthorn and taking a small, gentle bite.
Crunch.
The crisp sugar coating shattered between her teeth.
Immediately after, a rich sourness exploded on her tongue, causing her cool, clear eyes to narrow slightly.
“…So sour,” she commented softly.
“Sour is right,” Lin Yue said cheerfully, taking another bite.
“After the sourness, chew a bit more. Isn’t there a hint of sweetness now?”
Chu Wanning chewed slowly.
As the sourness faded, the natural fruity aroma of the hawthorn mixed with the residual sweetness of the sugar, creating an indescribable flavor.
The sword intent that had been weighing on her heart, making her feel breathless, miraculously calmed somewhat before this tiny fruit.
“You’re right.”
Chu Wanning held the bamboo skewer, looking at the street in the rain, a touch of softness appearing in her eyes.
“I really haven’t looked at these things in a long time.”
“Now that’s more like it,” Lin Yue pressed his advantage.
“Since you’ve come down the mountain, don’t keep that cold face on all day. Look over there at Auntie Zhang, arguing with Auntie Wang over two coppers for vegetables. This is life. It’s much more interesting than your icy, snowy sword techniques.”
Chu Wanning looked at the two peasant women not far away, hands on hips, spittle flying as they argued.
The corner of her mouth actually lifted into an extremely tiny, almost invisible curve.
For a moment, even the rain curtain seemed to soften.
[Task Reward: Chu Wanning Favorability +5. Heavy Sword Sharpening Progress Increased. Evaluation: You not only know how to feed chicken legs, you also know how to hand out candy. Even if this candy comes on a stick, the taste isn’t bad.]
Lin Yue curled his lip, ignoring the ledger’s teasing.
The two continued walking down the long street.
This time, Chu Wanning’s pace was much slower.
She began to observe the buildings along the roadside, intentionally or not, even pausing for a while in front of a stall selling clay figurines.
“That, Senior Sister… if there’s nothing else, I should go back and report to Steward Mo,” Lin Yue felt the atmosphere had been built up enough and prepared to make his exit.
“Wait.”
Chu Wanning stopped him.
She took out a small jade token from her bosom, entirely emerald green and carved with cloud patterns, and unceremoniously stuffed it into Lin Yue’s hand.
“This is?” Lin Yue was startled.
“My identity token.”
Chu Wanning turned around, her voice regaining its usual coolness, but with an added note of firmness.
“Keep it. If Mo Feng gives you trouble again, or if you decide you want to enter the inner sect, just show it to the mountain gate disciples.”
Lin Yue held the jade token, still warm from her body heat, his palm growing slightly warm.
This was a huge treasure.
With this thing, he could basically swagger around the outer sect.
Even if he broke Mo Feng’s horse’s leg, that guy Mo would probably have to smile and ask if his hand hurt.
“Thanks, Senior Sister.”
Lin Yue didn’t stand on ceremony either, casually tucking it into his robe.
“And.”
Chu Wanning stood with her back to him, her sleeves gently swaying in the wind.
“Next time… get a string of these that’s less sour. It hurts my teeth.”
With that, she transformed into a streak of white light and vanished into the far end of the rain curtain.
Lin Yue stood in place, stroking his chin.
“Next time? That little… she actually wants to eat it again?”
….
Noon.
Lin Yue returned to the Yunlai Inn.
As soon as he entered the main hall, he saw Mo Feng frowning at a table full of dishes.
“Lin Yue! Where the hell have you been?”
Mo Feng slammed the table, but his words cut off abruptly when he caught sight of a glimpse of green jade cord peeking from Lin Yue’s robe.
That was…
The emblem of an inner sect core disciple’s jade token?
Mo Feng’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head, his expression like he’d just swallowed a dead fly.
“Steward Mo, Senior Sister Chu asked me to run an errand for her earlier.”
Lin Yue walked over and swaggered as he pulled out a chair to sit down.
“She also gave me this thing, said that when I’m out collecting rent in the future, if I run into anyone who doesn’t know better, I should take it out and show them. What do you think, Steward? Won’t that make my rent-collecting job much more effective?”
Mo Feng’s face changed colors repeatedly, finally forcing out a smile uglier than crying:
“That… that’s natural. Since Senior Sister Chu thinks so highly of you, Junior Brother Lin, you must be diligent, very diligent from now on.”
Even his form of address had changed from “Lin Yue” to “Junior Brother Lin.”
Wang Pangzi watched from the side, utterly convinced and admiring.
He leaned close to Lin Yue’s ear and whispered, “Yue-ge, your soft rice… not only does it taste good, it’s also pretty hard to chew.”
“Get lost, this is called personal charm.”
Lin Yue picked up a chopstick, poking at the meat slices in his bowl, but his mind was calculating something else.
That little assassin.
According to the ledger, she hadn’t gone far.
Moreover, earlier on the street, he had vaguely glimpsed a washed-out, pale blue cloth robe in the shadows near that clay figurine stall.
She was following him.
Or rather, she was eyeing the jade token in his robe.
….
After lunch, Lin Yue excused himself to walk off the meal and wandered out of the inn again.
In the northwest corner of Qingshui Town stood an abandoned City God Temple, with broken walls and overgrown weeds.
Lin Yue, carrying his heavy sword, walked step by step into the depths of the temple.
“Come out. You’ve been following me all this way; those steamed buns must have digested by now, right?”
Lin Yue called out to the empty main hall.
Silence.
Only the sound of rainwater dripping from the damaged roof onto the muddy ground.
Plip.
Plop.
“Stop hiding. Your aura is more noticeable than that old man’s barbecue smell.”
Lin Yue found a relatively clean stone pedestal and sat down on his own.
“Speak. Do you think my jade token is worth a lot and want to borrow it to trade for a couple of meals of braised pork?”
“We’ve known each other this long. Time to give your name.”
“Mu Qingzhu.”
A green figure, like a leaf falling from a roof beam, appeared soundlessly three zhang in front of Lin Yue.
Mu Qingzhu held her black cloth bundle.
Those dead-fish-like eyes now held a trace of strange conflict.
“That is Chu Wanning’s thing,” her voice remained cold.
“You shouldn’t have taken it.”
“Why not?”
“If you take her things, you become a ‘target’ of the Azure Robes Sect.”
Mu Qingzhu took half a step forward, her originally pale face appearing somewhat sinister in the shadows.
“The debt the Nine Heavens Sect owes the Azure Robes Sect isn’t just spirit stones. That jade token is a fuse.”
Lin Yue looked down at the jade token in his robe, then at the young woman before him.
“So you’re showing yourself now… do you want to kill me and take the token, or… save me?”
Mu Qingzhu remained silent for a long time.
Her calloused hand tightened and loosened repeatedly on the bundle.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
She was honest to a fault.
“Then take your time thinking.”
Lin Yue took out two osmanthus cakes he had bought passing by a pastry shop earlier and tossed them over casually.
“Think faster on a full stomach. These things are dry; remember to fetch some water from the well in the back courtyard.”
Mu Qingzhu instinctively caught the cakes.
Looking at the two fragrant little pastries in her hand, her whole person once again fell into the tug-of-war between “assassin’s professional ethics” and “the frantic protests of her stomach.”
“Lin Yue.”
She suddenly called his name.
“Hmm?”
“Tomorrow… don’t go to collect the rent from Widow Chen’s house.”
After saying this, Mu Qingzhu’s figure flickered and vanished into the darkness once more.
Lin Yue looked at the empty main hall, chewing on the remaining half of his osmanthus cake, his gaze gradually deepening.
“Widow Chen? Rent collection?”
He patted the heavy sword behind him.
The heavy sword emitted a low, trembling hum.
“Ledger, it seems the waters of Qingshui Town are muddier than I imagined.”