Xi Jue had been bewitched.
Through the finger gap, Yan Ling saw those Qu family people had all run away. Immediately he stomped the pebble path, unhappy: “I haven’t made him apologize to me yet.”
“Trust me.” Xi Jue said eerily. “He can’t apologize now.”
Even opening his mouth to speak would probably be difficult.
Yan Ling could only give up with a furrowed baozi face, sullenly walking toward the front courtyard.
Xi Jue strolled after him. Seeing his palm seemed to be bleeding, he coughed dryly: “You’re so short yet so good at fighting? Who taught you?”
At Yan Family Mountain, with the even smaller Yan Yue for comparison, no one had ever called Yan Ling short. But now everyone he met mocked his height. At first, he was shocked and angry, but now he felt an inexplicable doubt.
“Am I…” He frowned tentatively: “Really very short?”
Xi Jue said: “You’re nine?”
“I’ll be ten on the twenty-eighth of this month.” Yan Ling vainly tried to convince him, asking longingly: “I’m two years younger than you—naturally I should be a bit shorter, right?”
Xi Jue pressed his hand on Yan Ling’s shoulder, sighing: “You don’t even reach my chin now. Honestly, Yan Ling’er, can you really be sure you can shoot up this much in two years?”
He gestured a height.
Yan Ling was dumbfounded: “Can’t I? My mother said I can.”
“She lied to you. When I was ten, I was much taller than you.”
Yan Ling fell into contemplation.
“Why worry about this?” Xi Jue pressed on his shoulder grinning. “You’re just fine like this. Look at those Qu family people—their brains purely exist to make up for their height. Completely useless.”
Yan Ling was not comforted.
Only someone as unrestricted as Xi Jue would trespass into someone’s host family’s back courtyard. As the two walked from the back courtyard to the front courtyard where guests were being received, Yan Ling casually glanced and saw Sheng Jiao in white robes standing under an osmanthus tree. Other clan people nearby gathered in small groups—not one person acknowledged him.
Yan Ling didn’t notice the other clans’ exclusion. Happily rushing over, he looked up with bright sparkling eyes: “Gege! You came!”
Sheng Jiao clearly hadn’t expected Medicine Sect’s godson to be him. After a dazed moment, he smiled: “Mm.”
Xi Jue smiled without warmth, watching the shorty who’d just been sullen now sticking to that poor ghost going “gege this, gege that.” His peripheral vision swept to Rang Chen and Heng Yudu chatting not far away. The tip of his foot turned direction—he directly strolled over.
He wanted to let Yan Ling know he also had good little brothers.
Rang Chen was lowering his head talking to Heng Yudu about birthday matters. Glimpsing Xi Jue approaching, he slightly raised his head to glance at him, his eyes full of distance.
Though the Xi and Rang families were on good terms, Rang Chen and Xi Jue weren’t familiar—Xi Jue couldn’t stand Rang Chen’s constant verbose rambling, and Rang Chen looked down on wastrel miscreants like Xi Jue.
The two only met once during holidays and festivals. From childhood to now, they hadn’t even exchanged three sentences.
Xi Jue was accustomed to being arrogant and conceited. He didn’t take Rang Chen’s rejection to heart at all. Directly walking forward to familiarly hook Rang Chen’s shoulder, his gaze glanced toward Yan Ling’s direction as he said offhandedly: “Oh, Little Brother Rang, long time no see. You’re still verbose as ever—I can hear you blabbing from far away.”
Rang Chen: “…”
Heng Yudu looked up at the two strangely, his eyes full of “you two are actually this close?” doubt.
Rang Chen smiled fakely as he brushed off Xi Jue’s arm, thinking—if I can’t provoke you, can’t I at least avoid you?: “Since Young Master Xi doesn’t want to listen, I’ll go blabber farther away.”
Xi Jue didn’t detect Rang Chen’s rejection at all. Or rather, even if he detected it, he didn’t care. He hooked Rang Chen back again, saying lazily: “What Young Master Xi? Call me gege.”
Rang Chen: “…”
Heng Yudu: “…”
Rang Chen nearly got a full body of goosebumps from Xi Jue, feeling this dog thing had probably lost his mind.
He smiled fakely and withdrew to the side, about to push Heng Yudu away. But Xi Jue insisted he call him gege no matter what. He squeezed him aside and snatched Heng Yudu’s wheelchair, directly using it as a “hostage.” Raising an eyebrow, he said: “I’m several months older than you. The Xi and Rang families are old friends. Calling me gege won’t make you suffer any losses.”
Rang Chen frowned: “Don’t scare Yudu. His health isn’t good.”
“I’m fine. No need to care about my life or death.” Heng Yudu had absolutely no sense of crisis about being a “hostage.” He even turned traitor on the spot, saying gently: “I also want to hear you call him gege.”
Rang Chen: “…”
Xi Jue leaned on the wheelchair back and laughed heartily.
Seeing Yan Ling turn his head at the laughter, Xi Jue immediately placed his hand intimately on Heng Yudu’s shoulder, giving him a smug look to show he also had good little brothers.
Yan Ling didn’t understand.
Sheng Jiao suddenly spoke, drawing Yan Ling’s attention back: “You made this pearl into an accessory?”
Yan Ling looked down at the tassel-knotted spirit pearl hanging from his waist sash, hurriedly nodding obediently: “Madam Wan made the knot for me.”
Sheng Jiao smiled: “It suits you well.”
Xi Jue nearly crushed the wheelchair’s armrest.
Rang Chen was clever—he probably saw Xi Jue’s intentions weren’t on wine. He said flatly: “What, you know that little shorty?”
“He’s not short.” Xi Jue glanced at him, then after hesitating added: “…He can still grow taller.”
Rang Chen couldn’t hold back a laugh. Finally, he had a new understanding of this unlikable wastrel.
Xi Jue saw Sheng Jiao lowering his eyes gently bandaging Yan Ling’s slightly scraped paws. Unhappy, he sat on Heng Yudu’s armrest, saying eerily: “That ‘Fathom the Heavenly Dao’ doesn’t look like anything good. Will we have to be classmates with this kind of bad thing in the future?”
Rang Chen and Heng Yudu looked at him in surprise, thinking—you, a wastrel who commits all kinds of evil, actually have the qualifications to call others bad things?
Xi Jue had no self-awareness of also being a “bad thing.” He glared at them: “What?”
“Oh.” Rang Chen said flatly. “I’m Heaven-grade ‘Glimpse Fortune and Misfortune.’ Yudu hasn’t awakened his xiangwen yet. We may not necessarily be classmates with Young Master Xi. You’re overthinking.”
Xi Jue said: “I don’t mind that you’re just talent-less Heaven-grade. You don’t need to feel too much pressure either.”
The two: “…”
Really have the face to say that.
After Xi Jue made a scene and saw Yan Ling still didn’t come actively find him, he sneered coldly and left with a flick of his sleeves, too lazy to lower himself to the level of ignorant masses.
With Xi Jue as comparison, Rang Chen and Heng Yudu found the small-clan-born Sheng Jiao much more pleasing to the eye.
After Young Master Xi left, Rang Chen pushed Heng Yudu to Yan Ling and Sheng Jiao’s side, smiling in greeting.
“Greetings to you both.”
Yan Ling was a bit afraid of strangers, hurriedly hugging Sheng Jiao’s arm and hiding behind him.
Seeing their full goodwill, he tried removing his ear cuff, only to be overwhelmed by a cacophony of chatter.
Rang Chen’s voice was like the light tapping of meditation wooden fish, while Heng Yudu looked refined and elegant but actually sounded like the clear, pleasant birdsong between Yan Family Mountain in early morning—chirping endlessly.
Sheng Jiao nodded, flatly exchanging pleasantries with the two.
Yan Ling detected no malice and obediently greeted them.
Just then, a half-grown child in black clothes came over noisily, rushing to Rang Chen’s side in one go. Skillfully sitting on Heng Yudu’s wheelchair, he talked animatedly with flying eyebrows.
“Hey, do you know? Just now that Qu family thing who looks down on people with nostrils in the air got beaten up. Even his throat was torn—can’t say half a sentence hahaha. This spectacle is really lively!”
Heng Yudu raised an eyebrow: “By whom?”
The newcomer was Feng Yu. He snorted: “Who cares who it was? Anyway, I watched the spectacle comfortably.”
After blabbering on, he finally noticed Yan Ling in front of him. Going “Oh,” he said carelessly: “You’re Yan Ling?”
Yan Ling looked at the several small ghosts floating around Feng Yu, shrinking further behind Sheng Jiao.
But just half a step back, Feng Yu somehow appeared beside him, bending down close to Yan Ling. Extending icy claws to tug Yan Ling’s baozi face, he grinned: “I heard Tianyan Academy is accepting ten-year-old children for the first time. This matter has spread throughout the Thirteen States. We’ll be classmates from now on? Want candy, kid? Call me gege and I’ll grab you a big handful of candy.”
Yan Ling: “…”
Yan Ling pushed his face away in disgust, hugging Sheng Jiao’s arm and not wanting to talk to him.
Feng Yu reluctantly leaned closer: “What, that coward Lezheng Jiu always hides in corners afraid of people. Are you also like your gege—stage fright and afraid of people?”
Yan Ling glanced at him: “I don’t have stage fright and I’m not afraid of people. I just don’t like talking to you.”
Feng Yu laughed: “This is our first time meeting, right? What did I do to you that you’re so disgusted by me?”
Yan Ling reached out to touch his ear ornament, planning to listen and see if he carried malice—otherwise why did every sentence make him so angry?
But just upon touching it, a crackling sound like firecrackers came to his ears.
Yan Ling was so startled his eyes widened. Following the sound, he saw a person in brilliant golden clothes standing beside Heng Yudu’s wheelchair. He seemed to have been there a long time, but surprisingly no one present had noticed.
Yan Ling looked at him puzzled.
After Fu Man met Yan Ling’s gaze, he also froze, then immediately rushed over to grab Yan Ling’s hand, saying excitedly: “You can see me? I’ve been standing here for half a shichen.”
Yan Ling: “?”
Only now did everyone discover there was another person standing there. They immediately soundlessly gasped.
The elusive Fu Man was moved to tears, so enthusiastic he wanted to pick up Yan Ling and spin him in circles.
Several young masters were crowded together chattering. Xi Jue returned, also dragging along a sword-carrying young boy, coming over imposingly to regain face.
But just finding Yan Ling, seeing a pile of people crowded around him, Xi Jue frowned tightly: “Ling’er, who are all these people?”
Yan Ling himself hadn’t recognized everyone yet, but he didn’t know how to explain. He could only use his hand to draw a big circle around them, saying: “All geges.”
Xi Jue: “???”
How are there so many geges?
Before Xi Jue could speak, Liu Changxing, whom he’d dragged over, walked up. His birthday was in the first lunar month—older than everyone present. His physique had also shot up from years of sword practice and cultivation, even half a head taller than Xi Jue.
He stood tall and imposing in front of Xi Jue, full of a sword cultivator’s fortitude. Clapping Xi Jue’s shoulder forcefully, he declared loudly: “Gege!”
Xi Jue: “…”
Everyone: “…”
Xi Jue’s face turned green.
After Liu Changxing finished speaking, he bent down to whisper in Xi Jue’s ear—though actually his voice was loud enough for everyone to know: “You said if I call you gege, you’d spar swords with me. When will we spar?”
Xi Jue: “…”
Xi Jue maintained a smile as he pushed Liu Changxing’s face aside, his voice drifting through gritted teeth: “Idiot, everyone heard. Lower your voice.”
Liu Changxing went “Oh,” lowered his voice and asked again: “When will we spar swords?”
Xi Jue: “…”
Might as well die.
**
(advanced chapters available on kofi)
wannaberecluse On SRTT Chapter 50.1