The Jade Feather Whistle, Silk Socks, and the Contents of the Brocade Pouch

The moonlight was cool as water.

Shadows of trees swayed, rustling softly in the night breeze.

Li Mo turned at the sound, only to see a figure with hands clasped behind their back casting a long shadow on the pristine floor of the Buddhist hall.

She stood silently in the ancient temple under the cold moon, her eyes lowered, lending an ethereal air to the tranquil sanctuary—so much so that even the statue of the Bodhisattva nearby seemed to pale in comparison.

"The prayer pouch fell. I wanted to hang it back up."

Li Mo quickly tied a knot in the pouch, ensuring it wouldn’t come loose, then jumped down.

"What’s inside the pouch?"

"If I say it, won’t it lose its power?"

The Heavenly Serpent Li Mo, who had never been superstitious, landed on the ground and pondered for a moment before asking with utmost seriousness.

"......"

Ying Bing’s lips parted slightly as she gazed at the swaying pouch on the branch, as if trying to see through it.

She had meant to say how a mere tree could decide a person’s fate.

But then she remembered the Qingluan Clan woman’s repeated warnings before she left their territory—never let anyone know what was inside the pouch...

"Fine."

Ying Bing didn’t press further. Her figure rose with the wind, alighting gracefully on the treetop, where she also hung a pouch of her own.

Her movements were swift, and she soon returned to the ground.

There, she found the young man staring intently at the pouch, his eyes practically boring holes into it.

"The one you hung—"

"If I say it, it won’t work anymore."

Ying Bing spoke softly, her tone laced with amusement even without needing to see the curve of her lips.

"......Alright." Li Mo sat down.

"......" Ying Bing sat beside him.

The two sat together, gazing at the moon, just as they had on countless nights before.

Any passing demon would have been shocked out of their wits.

The Qingluan Divine Maiden and the peerless Heavenly Serpent—who were known to draw blood at the slightest provocation—were sitting together so naturally, admiring the moon?

"Ice Block, you’ve gotten even stronger."

Li Mo looked at the girl, the haze in his eyes clearing into clarity.

His Heavenly Fate Divine Eye told him so.

Ice Block’s progress in divine observation was even faster than his.

"Mn."

"What have you been doing in the Southern Border?"

And so,

Ying Bing began recounting her experiences since arriving in the Southern Border, starting with the time she scalped a Roc demon.

To summarize:

Observing divine intent. Slaying demons.

"That’s all you did?"

Li Mo clicked his tongue. Ice Block was as relentless as Princess Little Jiang—no surprise there.

Though at least Princess Little Jiang had a hobby of collecting junk.

"Mn..."

Ying Bing absentmindedly rubbed the big-headed doll in her hands.

Did spacing out count as doing something?

"By the way, what about you?"

She lifted her gaze, her moonlit eyes seeming to pierce straight through to his heart.

"Peerless Heavenly Serpent?"

"......"

Young Li suddenly felt a bit warm.

Strange—summer had already passed, hadn’t it?

"Well, you know how aquatic clans are... they’re pretty open about courtship."

"Mn."

"Back then, there was a selection among the aquatic clans. I figured I had to make an impression to earn a spot at the Hanging Temple."

"And then?"

"Some demon started spreading nonsense, saying I had True Dragon bloodline. The rumors snowballed, and soon, a bunch of aquatic women were sending me gifts."

Ying Bing’s delicate brows furrowed slightly.

She couldn’t quite describe the feeling.

But the image of Li Mo surrounded by female demons made her fingers itch for her sword...

"The demon tradition is weird—accepting a gift counts as consent."

"So I didn’t accept a single one."

The only gift Li Mo had accepted in person was the pearl from Zhen Bang—and even that, he’d paid for, including the unusually large one. The rest, he’d found ways to return.

He was about to continue when—

Crack—

"!"

A chill ran down Li Mo’s neck as he watched the big-headed doll’s head being twisted off by slender, jade-like fingers.

And then...

A jade feather whistle was pulled out from inside.

"The Qingluan Clan crafts instruments that mimic birdsong, tailored to their own voices."

The whistle lay in the girl’s palm, gleaming with a watery sheen.

"I’d planned to bring back some souvenirs from the Southern Border for you. I didn’t expect you’d come to the Hanging Temple. You—"

"I love it."

Li Mo’s expression was solemn, his eyes clear, his tone resolute.

"But you haven’t even heard its sound yet."

"No need. Just looking at it, I can tell it’s beautiful."

"......"

Young Li swiftly undid the red string on his wrist, threaded the jade whistle onto it, and tied it back on.

Ying Bing glanced away nonchalantly, her lips pressed together lightly.

"Oh, I got you something too. Made from pearl-white lotus silk. Took a lot of effort."

"What is it?"

"Stockings."

"?"

"Not sure if they’ll fit. You should try them on now."

Li Mo figured the avian clans of the Qingluan territory probably didn’t produce stockings.

When giving gifts, one should choose something practical yet hard to come by.

—Lu Xun.

Young Li had always been good at understanding the wisdom of his elders.

And not just understanding—he put it into practice!

What use was knowledge without action?

How else could one achieve unity of knowledge and action?

"You—"

"No need for words."

Under the shade of the tree, Li Mo reached out and removed the Qingluan Divine Maiden’s shoe, revealing a pair of delicate, jade-like feet.

Li Mo wore an expression of utmost righteousness: "See? I told you the Southern Border doesn’t sell good stockings. Must be uncomfortable going barefoot."

"I haven’t even—"

The small foot in his palm, warm as fine jade, curled slightly.

"They’re fragrant! So fragrant!"

Li Mo was convinced that if someone soaked these in water, people would drink it for years.

Who could deny their allure?

Without stockings, what if her feet got chafed? Who’d take responsibility?

What if the texture worsened? Who’d answer for that?

He gave them a gentle squeeze, confirming they were just as soft and fragrant as before, then sighed in relief and slipped the stockings on.

"Done."

"I know. I’m the one wearing them."

"Then your hand..." Ying Bing’s gaze was inscrutable.

"Occupational hazard."

Li Mo rubbed his nose.

Indeed, while pearl-white lotus silk felt nice, it still couldn’t compare to... well, certain things.

He handed Ice Block a few more pairs.

Of course, he hadn’t made just these.

But Li—a man of virtue—Mo felt some designs weren’t appropriate to bring out just yet.

"Boss Li! Boss Li! Where are you?"

Wu Meng’s grating voice tore through the night, searching for him for some reason.

"Probably about the divine jade contest. I’d better head back."

"Mn."

She watched the young man’s figure disappear into the darkness, her gaze lingering long after he’d gone.

Plop—

Suddenly, something landed in her palm.

Ying Bing looked down to find a prayer pouch—the very one Li Mo had just tied to the yinyuan tree. Somehow, it had fallen again.

It fell on its own.

If it fell, could she look inside?

She untied it gently. When she saw what was inside, her silver-white lashes, tinged by moonlight, trembled slightly.

Half a mooncake—red bean paste wrapped in icy skin.

Why half? Because aside from the imprint of "Ice Block," the other half had been bitten off, teeth marks still visible.

After a long silence,

she retrieved another pouch from her sleeve and opened it.

Inside was another half—this one, lotus seed paste.

Two halves.

Together, they made a whole.

He raised his hand just enough to block out the moon in the sky.

A perfect moment of reunion.