When the dusk’s afterglow dyed the inner sect in shades of orange, the day’s Assessment came to an end.
The final result was both unsurprising and yet beyond expectations.
Ye Chen, a registered disciple of Sky Sword Peak, achieved ten consecutive victories, each concluded within ten breaths.
This record stirred immense waves among the inner sect disciples, leaving no one to question Ye Chen’s strength any longer.
Another unexpected name was Su Ying.
This junior sister, usually more lively than formidable, also managed ten consecutive wins, becoming a dark horse of the Assessment through sheer tenacity and a bit of luck.
“Senior Brother Ye Chen! You’re just—”
On the way back to Sword Pavilion, Su Ying and a few companions hurried to catch up with Ye Chen.
Her face was flushed with excitement, eyes shining.
She started to speak, but halfway through, found herself at a loss for words.
In the end, she simply waved her hands vigorously, looking both frustrated and deeply admiring, then laughed sheepishly.
“I can’t! I thought I performed super well today and wanted to brag to you, Senior Brother. But after watching your matches, I—I’m embarrassed to even say I know how to use a sword! Senior Brother is amazing!”
Her companions echoed her words, the initial calm in their gazes replaced by a complex mix of awe and curiosity as they looked at Ye Chen.
Faced with their enthusiastic chatter, Ye Chen simply listened quietly, occasionally nodding during pauses to show he was listening.
Gradually, the heated atmosphere cooled.
Noticing this, Su Ying’s eyes flickered as if she’d remembered something.
She quickly spoke up.
“Right, Senior Brother! Tonight, at the lakeside pavilion on Bibo Lake, the sect is holding a small Discussion Gathering for disciples who performed well in the Assessment. Even the Direct Disciples will come to give guidance! Senior Brother, you’re so strong—you’ll definitely go, right? Let’s go together?”
Her invitation was filled with anticipation, her bright eyes fixed on Ye Chen.
Ye Chen’s steps faltered slightly.
A Dao Gathering… and Direct Disciples as well?
He shook his head.
“I won’t go.”
“Eh? Why?”
The smile on Su Ying’s face froze.
She hadn’t expected Ye Chen to refuse so directly.
“This kind of opportunity is rare…”
Seeing that Ye Chen had no intention of changing his mind, the girl grew anxious.
She gathered her courage and instinctively reached to tug his sleeve, her tone softening with a hint of pleading she herself did not notice.
“Senior Brother, come with us… please…”
Yet just as her hand was about to touch his sleeve, Ye Chen subtly stepped aside.
Su Ying’s hand paused in midair.
Her smile faltered, the light in her eyes flickering like a candle in the wind, dimming.
“I have other matters tonight.”
With that, he gave an explanation that required no further words.
He ignored the look of sudden sorrow in the girl’s eyes, nodded briefly to the group, and turned away.
His figure quickly blended into the bamboo-lined path ahead, disappearing from sight.
—
Night deepened.
The moon rose high.
Moonlight filtered through sparse bamboo leaves, casting shifting shadows across the path of Sword Pavilion.
Ye Chen wandered outside for a while before finally pushing open the gate to his courtyard.
A familiar cool fragrance, mingled with the scent of night dew, greeted him.
He stopped at the threshold.
Beside the stone table in the courtyard, a figure sat silently.
A red-and-white dress shimmered softly under the moonlight.
A veil like mist concealed her face, revealing only eyes clear as autumn water.
She sat quietly, as if fused with the moonlit courtyard, waiting for who knows how long.
It was the one who dueled him each month.
Ye Chen understood.
Because of the sect’s Assessment, he’d missed their usual meeting.
For some reason, at the moment he saw her, the image of that stunning figure seated high above during the day overlapped with the woman before him.
Both seemed isolated from the world—both…hard to see clearly.
The thought rippled across his heart, then faded.
He calmed himself and walked forward, ready to explain his absence.
“I—”
“I know.”
A gentle voice interrupted him.
She looked at him through the veil, her tone unreadable.
“I saw today’s sect Assessment.”
Ye Chen froze.
She saw? Was she watching outside the arena…?
He didn’t pursue it further.
Since she knew, he didn’t need to explain.
He nodded and sat on the stone stool across from her.
To Ye Chen, the mysterious girl before him was already a true Dao Companion.
Their relationship was pure, focused only on seeking the Dao together, to have a companion on the lonely path of cultivation.
No worldly entanglements, no unresolved karmic ties.
That was good.
Unlike Xiao Xiao, whose reliance and obsession felt like an invisible net, forcing him to always balance a fragile equilibrium.
Unlike distant Xiao Liuli and Ling Qingshuang, whose obsessions may have long strayed from the true path of cultivation.
Thinking of the latter two, Ye Chen’s gaze did not waver.
His heart had long made its decision.
As thoughts drifted, he took out a small jade box.
Opening the lid, a unique tea fragrance spread instantly.
It was rare spirit tea from Sky Sword Peak, specially prepared by Xiao Xiao for him.
Ye Chen produced a simple tea set, drew spring water, boiled it, warmed the cups, and added tea leaves.
His movements were steady, boiling water pouring into the pot, the curled tea leaves slowly unfurling like living things awakened from sleep.
Wisps of white steam rose, swirling in the moonlight, blurring their faces.
He pushed the first cup of tea towards An Yao.
The tea’s color was bright as jade.
“Please.”
An Yao did not speak, only reached out to lift the cup.
Her fingers were slender, her skin luminous under the moon.
She didn’t drink immediately, simply brought the cup close to her veil, as if savoring the warmth of the tea.
The misty veil trembled slightly, stirred by the rising steam.
Ye Chen raised his own cup and took a sip.
The tea was clear and refreshing, leaving a lingering sweetness.
They sat facing each other in silence.
Outside, moonlight flowed like water.
Inside, tea fragrance lingered.
The atmosphere was tranquil.
Ye Chen felt at peace.
This silent focus on the present moment was the heart of cultivation he pursued.
He didn’t notice the subtle changes in An Yao’s gaze as she watched him through the veil.
Her eyes moved from his hand preparing tea, to the cup he held, finally settling on the Qingci Tea Jar.
On its surface, the aura of another woman still lingered.
She slowly brought the cup to her lips, as if taking a sip.
“This tea,”
She set the cup down, her voice calm.
“Tastes good.”
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