Lady Qinghe, You Are Truly Fascinating

"You ran off pretty fast, didn’t you? Said you were going to support your third disciple, but ended up vanishing without a trace?"

"With so many things left unresolved, you just washed your hands of it and ran?"

Daoist Yuyang stood at the center of the grand hall, pointing at Chu Xingchen’s nose as he continued his furious tirade:

"Back then, it was you who called me here to handle things, promising that once the job was done, I’d have all the Spring Warmth I could drink. But after it was over, I couldn’t even find a trace of you."

"Not to mention the Spring Warmth—I couldn’t even see your punchable face."

Inside the hall.

Li Yingling silently sipped her tea, her gaze flickering toward her master.

Just hearing this, it definitely sounded like something her master would do—and not exactly in a decent way.

After all, the only ones who could point at her master’s nose and scold him without getting a venomous retort in return were those he truly owed, or those with whom he shared an exceptionally close bond.

If the relationship weren’t good, her master would argue even if he were in the wrong.

San Dong, who had originally intended to listen to the story, now held a half-eaten red bean bun in her hand, looking somewhat bewildered at the two strangers.

She clutched the bun tightly, its filling nearly oozing out. San Dong wanted to finish it quickly, but the atmosphere felt too serious—would eating now seem impolite?

Still, she could roughly tell that these two were likely friends of her sect master, so she wasn’t truly nervous.

"Between brothers, there’s no need to be so calculational." Chu Xingchen wore a gentle smile as he stood up, glancing at Li Yingling, who was still enjoying the drama.

"What are you staring at? Go brew some tea for your two uncles—the finest tea we have."

Li Yingling rose and cupped her hands in acknowledgment. "Understood, Master."

When outsiders were present, Li Yingling knew to rein in her playful nature, giving her master the respect he deserved and ensuring no one could mock their sect for lacking decorum.

As the senior disciple, she understood the proper boundaries.

Though, the "finest tea" in their sect was nothing more than ordinary mortal tea—just slightly more expensive.

Perhaps it was because her third junior sister’s tea-brewing skills were unparalleled, making even ordinary tea taste exceptional, even if it lacked that touch of spiritual essence.

But anyone who drank her third junior sister’s tea would likely overlook that missing spiritual note.

Li Yingling turned and left, heading out to fetch a pot of tea from her third junior sister.

Seeing Chu Xingchen’s cooperative attitude, Daoist Yuyang merely snorted.

"You promised Spring Warmth in abundance. If Xu Jin and I aren’t satisfied this time, we’re not leaving."

Chu Xingchen nodded understandingly, then called out to Li Yingling as she reached the door.

"Yingling, prepare two guest rooms for your uncles as well."

Daoist Yuyang couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation.

"You really don’t hold back, do you?"

"Now that’s unfair. I’ve always valued my word." Chu Xingchen retrieved three jars of Spring Warmth from his spatial ring, each sealed with talismans.

"What I meant was—we’re drinking until we drop. No one leaves until we’re thoroughly satisfied. Stay in my sect as long as you like."

"If we run out, I’ll personally take you to the Tianyan Sect to demand more from Yanyun."

Daoist Yuyang’s eyes lit up at the sight of the jars. He pulled the seal off one, and the rich, spiritual aroma of Tianyan Sect’s Spring Warmth filled the air.

Even Xu Jin couldn’t resist stepping forward.

Chu Xingchen raised a brow with a smirk. "Tell me, am I a man of my word or not?"

Daoist Yuyang took a sip, savoring the taste before replying,

"Barely. You’d be more convincing if you hadn’t left Xu Jin and me to clean up your mess."

Chu Xingchen sighed. "I had to leave—"

Before he could finish, Daoist Yuyang cut him off.

"Enough. The two of us combined wouldn’t win an argument against you. I’m not in the mood for debate."

He grabbed a jar.

"Save your words for the wine."

Chu Xingchen chuckled and raised his own jar, lightly clinking it against Daoist Yuyang’s and Xu Jin’s.

San Dong watched as the previously tense atmosphere dissolved into relaxed camaraderie with just a toast.

She didn’t quite understand how the shift happened so quickly, but it was good news for her—she could finally eat her nearly-spilled red bean bun in peace.

The sweet, intoxicating fragrance of Spring Warmth filled the air, carrying the essence of spring itself.

San Dong couldn’t help but feel tempted to try a sip.

By the deep pond.

Qinghe sat in a huff, looking like she’d been wronged with no way to vent. She picked up a small stone and tossed it into the water, creating only a tiny splash.

Back in the day, her background had been second to none. In this vast world, there were only eighteen core disciples across the eighteen immortal sects—so why did it feel like she kept running into them everywhere now?

Qinghe knew better than to use too much force. If she accidentally killed a few fish, that scheming Chu Xingchen might just force her to guard his gates as punishment.

"Lord Qinghe, what are you doing?"

Cui Hao’s voice came from behind.

Qinghe didn’t turn around, waving him off.

"Pissed off. Go away."

Cui Hao shook his head and walked to her side, watching the disturbed fish dart beneath the water.

"These fish are quite precious. A few more throws and you might scare them to death—and I’m temporarily responsible for them."

"If Third Senior Sister comes looking for fish to play with and finds some missing, I might end up as the replacement."

Qinghe turned to look at him, taking in his mournful expression.

Cui Hao met her gaze.

"What could possibly trouble the great Lord Qinghe?"

"Two core disciples showed up earlier. They called me Chu Xingchen’s pet dragon. I told them I belong to Zhuji Peak, but one of those jerks said, ‘What’s the difference?’"

"That’s it?"

"What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? Out of nowhere, I’m treated like some gatekeeping dragon for your sect!"

"Isn’t that a good thing? You, a mighty dragon, get prestige from two sects." Cui Hao feigned envy. "Other immortal sect dragons can only claim one, but you, Lord Qinghe, can boast two."

"These days, the more titles you can flaunt, the higher your status and the deeper your backing."

"Ordinary dragons could only dream of such fortune. If the Tianyan Sect would take me, I’d sign up in a heartbeat."

Qinghe frowned, sensing something off but finding his logic somewhat convincing.

Cui Hao pressed on. "Besides, if anything happens, wouldn’t my master back you up? You’re just lending your name, but he’s the one putting in real effort."

"Seems like a great deal to me. Lord Qinghe, are you just showing off to me?"

Qinghe pondered this and found it reasonable.

All she had to endure was a few words, while Chu Xingchen would be the one actually doing the work.

Her mood improved instantly. Cui Hao’s sharp mind had put things into perspective—this was indeed a favorable arrangement.

Just as she was about to stand up and revel in her newfound advantage, another voice echoed from the sect gates.

"Buddhist disciple Wukong requests an audience."

Qinghe froze, instinctively turning to Cui Hao.

Cui Hao raised an eyebrow slightly. "They're from the Buddhist sect—definitely not friends. Lord Qinghe, it's time to showcase your formidable backing!"

"Revive the glory of the dragonkind—today, Qinghe leads the charge!"

Hearing this, Qinghe gave a firm nod before transforming into a streak of light, darting toward the gate.

Watching Qinghe's retreating figure, Cui Hao finally couldn't hold back a smile.

Lord Qinghe—truly an amusing one.