What I Mean Is, A Little Cold... Clear Autumn

Evening.

Gu Residence.

Ring ring ring!~!

Amidst the relentless barrage of phone calls, a hand emerged from under the blankets. Gu Yan, groggy and irritated, grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. "Hello? Who is it?"

Martial Arts Department.

Bai Jun, crouched in a corner, lowered his voice. "Gu Yan, what the hell are you doing? I’ve called you a dozen times!"

"Something’s happened—don’t you get it?"

Something happened? As if anything could be more important than catching up on sleep.

Gu Yan yawned. "Oh, it’s you. What’s going on? What happened?"

He had every right to be exhausted. First, he’d stayed up all night with Xiao Leng. Then, he’d popped that memory orb and endured the absurd, mind-bending scenario trapped inside. By the time it was over, his spirit was utterly drained.

Glancing outside, he realized he’d slept straight from morning till dusk.

Martial Arts Department.

Bai Jun rubbed his temples in frustration. No wonder he didn’t pick up—he was dead asleep. But there was nothing he could do about it.

With a sigh, he said, "How can you sleep at a time like this...?"

"The ancient ruins are in chaos. Our previous plans are scrapped. Just get your ass to the Martial Arts Department ASAP—oh, hello, hello!"

And with that, Bai Jun hung up.

Back at his place, Gu Yan rubbed his eyes.

Seriously? Going to the Martial Arts Department now would mean overtime—and they don’t even pay overtime.

He tossed his phone aside and flopped back onto the bed.

But a second later—

Ring ring ring~!

The phone screamed again.

Grumbling, Gu Yan answered once more.

Old Gao was waiting downstairs in his car, staring up at the tightly drawn curtains of Gu Yan’s room. "Young Master, sleep well?"

"Old Gao... What is it?"

"You asked me to send people to investigate the Peach Blossom Society, right? Well... things took a bad turn. Just get down here—I’m taking you straight to the Martial Arts Department."

Gu Yan frowned. "Not going!"

He hung up.

Yet again, moments later—

[Master... Master... finally, I reached you. The Peach Blossom Society’s hideout is in trouble...]

[A horde of demonic creatures appeared out of nowhere. The barrier’s been destroyed, corroded by some kind of sinister black mist...]

[Almost everyone in the sect is dead... Master... what do we do? Wang Yulan and I are hiding in the secret chamber.]

"......"

"Stay hidden. Wait for my orders."

Gu Yan massaged his temples, finally grasping the gravity of the situation.

What the hell?

All he’d done was make a wish for Xiao Xie to make the Peach Blossom Society’s hideout look more like an ancient ruin.

Why was everyone suddenly blowing up his phone?

Besides, what difference would it make if he didn’t show up?

Then—

Ding ling ling~~~ Your wife is calling!~

Ding ling ling~~~ Your wife is calling!~

?!

Qingqiu is calling me?!

Instantly, Gu Yan perked up. He grabbed the phone, about to answer—

But then he paused.

Wait...

Qingqiu had learned to use a phone ages ago, yet she’d never once called him before.

Plus, Xiao Leng had pretended to be Qingqiu over the phone before.

And now, with the ancient ruins in crisis...

Could it be...?

Keeping his tone neutral, he answered, "Xiao Leng—"

But before he could finish—

A voice came through the line that sent his heart racing.

"Gu Yan, Gu Yan, are you okay? I called you so many times! You didn’t already go to the ancient ruins, did you?"

Leng Residence.

Leng Qingqiu clutched her phone, tension sharp in her voice.

This was the first time she’d ever called Gu Yan. Normally, she’d be too shy.

But she’d just received urgent news from Shangguan Miaoyin—the ancient ruins were in turmoil.

A swirling black mist had engulfed them, turning the place lethally dangerous.

The Martial Arts Department was scrambling to revise their plans, summoning fighters from other regions.

Panicked, Qingqiu had called Gu Yan immediately.

But he hadn’t picked up—until now.

Hearing his first words, though...

She froze. "Gu Yan, who did you just say? Xiao Leng...?"

Gu Yan broke into a cold sweat.

Shit. It’s really her.

Quickly, he backpedaled. "Ahem, I meant—Xiao... Qingqiu, you’re way too worried about your dear husband!"

"Bai Jun already bombarded me with calls, demanding I rush to the Martial Arts Department."

"So don’t worry. Relax, okay?"

Xiao... Qingqiu?

The nickname sent a flutter through her chest—followed by a surge of embarrassment.

"This isn’t the time for jokes!" she scolded, her voice tinged with frustration.

"The ruins are too dangerous now. If you can avoid going, don’t go. Understand?"

In Qingqiu’s mind, the Martial Arts Department’s cannon fodder could scout first.

Once the path was clear, she would sweep in and claim everything. That was the ideal plan.

Those expendables could die by the dozens—there’d always be more.

But Gu Yan? There was only one of him.

Hearing the concern in her voice, Gu Yan felt a warmth in his chest. "Got it. Xiao Qingqiu, wait for me. When I get back, we’ll have a nice long call."

"Stop saying such weird things!"

Qingqiu huffed.

Did Gu Yan not realize how bad it was to jinx things like that?

"I know, I know. Whatever you say. If I can skip it, I will. There are plenty of others going anyway—one less won’t matter."

Gu Yan reassured her.

Oh, Gu Yan won’t be going.

But the Night King? That was a different story.

"Good."

Only then did Qingqiu relax.

After a few more reminders, she hung up.

Once the call ended, she held her phone, her earlier tension easing—replaced by a strange, unfamiliar feeling.

"...Talking through the phone feels... oddly intimate."

[Other Me, you worry too much. The furnace won’t die that easily.]

"Xiao Leng, you don’t understand. Just shut up."

[?]