Yan Jianlan slept comfortably. Though he dreamed of stupid things he’d done impulsively in his youth, for him it was already a rare good dream.
When he woke again, daylight blazed brightly.
Last night, Sheng Jiao had channeled spiritual power to nourish his spiritual veins. Yan Jianlan’s sore waist felt much better, and the blue and purple marks covering his body had mostly faded—he could barely get out of bed.
Autumn’s coolness pervaded the air. Even wrapped in outer robes, he could faintly feel the cold seeping into his bones. Yesterday, all of Wuyin City had been extraordinarily lively. Even early this morning, countless cultivators who hadn’t left the Northern Territory made even the remote Nameless Alley1i forgot what it was called before T-T unexpectedly busy.
Osmanthus flowers bloomed in the courtyard. Yan Jianlan casually plucked a branch and carelessly chewed on it, flicking his finger at the rhino horn lamp to send a voice transmission to Sheng Jiao.
“Where did you go?”
Sheng Jiao quickly responded: “Evil Qi Road—porridge is warming in the kitchen, go eat.”
Yan Jianlan bit into the osmanthus flower, too lazy to eat that flavorless porridge. He listlessly opened the clinic door and glanced outside.
In the Nameless Alley secluded alley, there were only two shops—one was Shi’er Ju clinic, and the other was Qin Banban’s pastry shop. That noisy clamor outside came from the alley entrance.
Qin Banban had been granted three days’ leave by Heng Yudu. Having already grown bored playing in Wuyin City, she simply returned home to make pastries.
The moment Yan Jianlan saw Qin Banban, he thought of the Responding Bell, and gloomily pushed through the crowd to approach: “Banban?”
Qin Banban had her long hair tied up, working extremely efficiently. In the midst of her busyness, she spotted Yan Jianlan and her eyes brightened: “Brother Lan!”
The person crouched in the corner of the eaves munching on pastries also raised his head.
“Ling’er?!”
Only then did Yan Jianlan realize Yu Tuishan was also here. The corner of his lips twitched slightly.
Yu Tuishan stuffed three or four pastries whole into his mouth, not afraid of choking to death. He dusted off his hands, pulled Yan Jianlan aside, and said mysteriously: “Quick, tell your brother—have you eavesdropped on any top-secret information from Sheng Jiao?”
Yan Jianlan: “…”
“Brother,” Yan Jianlan said expressionlessly. “Are you treating me as a spy or informant?”
Yu Tuishan asked in surprise: “Wouldn’t that work? What a perfect spy—even if exposed, Sheng Jiao won’t kill you. Your brother can use you with peace of mind and a clear conscience.”
Yan the Spy rolled his eyes and said to Qin Banban: “Banban, give me an osmanthus cake.”
Qin Banban replied crisply: “Right away!”
Qin Banban rarely revisited her pastry-selling life. Unlike back then when her face showed only boredom and exhaustion from struggling to make a living, this morning she was cheerful throughout.
The pastry shop’s business was too bustling. Yan Jianlan, finding it too crowded to stand there, simply took the pastry and slowly walked toward the main street.
Yu Tuishan hurried to catch up, circling him and demanding “information.”
Wuyin City was rarely this lively. Yan Jianlan chewed on the osmanthus cake, looking around listlessly, and said casually: “Do you think Sheng Jiao would tell me the details of his case investigations? He won’t make a move against you without finding evidence to convict you. Rather than asking me about this, wouldn’t it be better to just hide your tail well?”
Yu Tuishan said darkly: “That’s rather inhuman of you to say.”
Yan Jianlan turned his head to meet his gaze, suddenly curling his lips: “Hehe.”
Yu Tuishan: “…”
Fortunately, Yu Tuishan had a muddle-through temperament. Even dying at Sheng Jiao’s hands wouldn’t matter to him. He strolled forward, draping his arm over Yan Jianlan’s shoulder, and said lazily: “Want to go play in Central State?”
Yan Jianlan was pressed down until his waist softened, barely managing to steady himself. Inadvertently glancing at a wandering cultivator selling spiritual artifacts by the roadside, he walked over to look: “Which family are you planning to make your target?”
Yan Jianlan couldn’t easily bend down to crouch. Yu Tuishan bounced over and crouched down, picking up a spiritual artifact and holding it up for him to see. His other hand supported his chin as he grinned: “Are you planning to be a double spy, wanting to get information from me to report back to Sect Master Sheng?”
Yan Jianlan glanced at him: “I’m really quite that idle, aren’t I? Rather than enjoying the good life, I’d choose to make trouble for myself—not that one, the one beside it with the osmanthus pattern. Yes, let me see.”
Yu Tuishan handed him the delicate spiritual artifact jade pendant: “…Then I should pick a soft persimmon to squeeze first. What do you think of the Qu family?”
Yan Jianlan was examining the spiritual artifact, turning it over repeatedly. Hearing this, he turned his head to look at him.
Yu Tuishan bared his teeth: “Qu Minglian and Qu Xiangren are both already dead. The Qu family is no longer a force to be reckoned with. Fortunately, they still barely have some Tianyan earth veins left—enough to use as an appetizer. That’ll do.”
Yan Jianlan fell silent for a long while before turning his head: “Mm—afterward, don’t let those wandering cultivators extract people’s xiangwen anymore.”
Yu Tuishan raised an eyebrow: “You’ve gone soft?”
Yan Jianlan frowned: “Stop nagging.”
Yu Tuishan laughed loudly.
Yan Jianlan asked the wandering cultivator how to use the spiritual artifact and took out spirit stones to buy the jade pendant.
“Right, birthday gift!” Yu Tuishan strolled forward, pulled off a storage ring and placed it on Yan Jianlan’s finger. “Inside are a bunch of gifts your brother picked for you, enough to make up for those missing eight years.”
Yan Jianlan laughed: “You make up for those eight years every year—how are you still making up for them?”
Yu Tuishan strolled away, leaving behind one sentence: “Because I feel like it.”
Yan Jianlan returned to Shi’er Ju alone.
With the Xi family matter settled, Yan Jianlan could finally find something he actually wanted to do. After thinking it over, he decided to first settle on a name for the Shi’er Ju clinic.
He’d also need to find a piece of wood and carve a sign himself.
Yan Jianlan was making plans when he opened the shabby door of Shi’er Ju to find Sheng Jiao standing beside the medicine cabinet that reached to the ceiling. The Tianyan Pearl scattered in all directions, using spiritual power to levitate the medicines from the cabinet outside.
The sun was out today—a rare occurrence—perfect for drying medicines.
Sheng Jiao had originally thought Yan Jianlan was just running a clinic to disguise his movements and identity, merely playing around. But unexpectedly, in this modest clinic, the medicine cabinets and tools were all complete, and all those hundreds of small medicine compartments were filled with dried herbs—not a single one was empty.
He’d truly intended to open a clinic at first.
Yan Jianlan raised an eyebrow: “What are you doing?”
Normally, Sheng Jiao wouldn’t answer such an obvious question, but for some reason, he’d become more talkative—whatever Yan Jianlan asked would receive a response.
“Drying medicines.”
“Why dry them?” Yan Jianlan said. “I’ve set up formations on the medicine cabinets—even if they sit for three years, they won’t get damp and spoil. Don’t bother with it.”
Sheng Jiao pressed his lips together, hummed in acknowledgment, and gathered the medicines he’d taken out back one by one.
Yan Jianlan walked for a bit, his waist aching and legs sore. He sat in the soft chair beside him and discovered a bowl of porridge being warmed on the small table with a fire spirit stone, with preserved fruits placed alongside.
This was rather unusual.
Yan Jianlan propped his elbow up and rested his chin in his palm, grinning as he watched Sheng Jiao organizing medical texts: “Sect Master Sheng, why are you being so attentive today? Did you cause some trouble?”
Sheng Jiao: “…”
Yan Jianlan had the nerve to say that.
Sheng Jiao glanced at him coldly. Normally, if Yan Jianlan asked such an irritating nonsense question, he wouldn’t bother responding, but this time he actually said: “No.”
Yan Jianlan was just being cheeky. After teasing, he had no expectation of Sheng Jiao actually responding. Just as he reached to pick up the bowl, he suddenly heard the answer and nearly burned his paw, staring at Sheng Jiao in shock.
“Sect Master Sheng!” Yan Jianlan set down the bowl, pinched his earlobe, and rushed over to hold his shoulders, looking him up and down nervously. “What’s wrong with you? Have you been possessed?! What demon, hurry up and get out of my dao companion’s body!”
Sheng Jiao: “…”
Sheng Jiao frowned: “Drink your porridge.”
“What’s really wrong with you?” Yan Jianlan was helped back to sit but still clutched Sheng Jiao’s sleeve, pressing him: “Today is really strange. Don’t be like this, I’m scared.”
Sheng Jiao was merely being slightly more talkative than usual, but to Yan Jianlan it was more shocking than the destruction of Tianyan.
Yan Jianlan sat back and took small sips of porridge, his gaze still circling around Sheng Jiao.
The clinic door stood open. Sunlight slanted in, pouring over the Heavenly Dao lord. The pitch-black Xiezhi Sect robes were ordinarily unremarkable, but when Sheng Jiao wore them, they inexplicably carried a forbidding, chilling aura that made people instinctively fearful at first sight.
The light cast his knife-carved, axe-chiseled stern features in an almost translucent warm glow, yet even warm sunlight couldn’t melt the snow on mountaintops—he remained lofty and distant like an immortal.
Yan Jianlan simply enjoyed the Heavenly Dao lord’s beauty as accompaniment to his meal.
Sheng Jiao sat there handling Xiezhi Sect affairs via the rhino horn lamp. Perhaps because he hadn’t touched the rhino horn lamp in ten years, he used it somewhat clumsily, sometimes hovering his finger over the lamp wick for a good while before figuring out the next step.
Yan Jianlan laughed quietly.
He had little appetite, setting down the bowl after just a few sips. Walking with his hands behind his back to stand before Sheng Jiao, his slender figure blocked the sunlight—backlit, even his black hair seemed tinged slightly dark red by his crimson robes.
“Sect Master Sheng.”
Sheng Jiao looked up at him.
Three months ago, when Yan Jianlan called him “Sect Master Sheng” or “Heavenly Dao lord,” it was always distant and sarcastically pointed. But now he seemed to treat these two forms of address as flirtation, drawing out the sounds in an ambiguous, lively way.
“Hmm?”
“Ta-da!”
Yan Jianlan extended his paw, giving his five fingers a dramatic shake with a self-supplied “ta-da!” His pinky hooked the cord, dangling the delicate jade pendant spiritual artifact he’d just bought before Sheng Jiao.
The osmanthus-patterned jade pendant had an osmanthus flower sealed inside—probably something that had accidentally fallen in when the wandering cultivator was forging the artifact, giving it a uniquely exquisite charm.
“Isn’t it beautiful?!” Yan Jianlan stood backlit, half his face illuminated by slanted light that made his beautiful eyes seem like glass. He narrowed them in a smile: “It’s for you.”
Sheng Jiao looked at the jade pendant, his pupils trembling slightly as he reached out to accept it.
Seeing that Sheng Jiao seemed to like it very much, his dark eyes growing gentle, Yan Jianlan immediately worked harder to please him: “This jade pendant artifact can store items and also connect to the rhino horn lamp. From now on, you won’t need to carry the lamp—you can just use this to send me voice transmissions.”
Sheng Jiao’s finger lightly brushed the tiny osmanthus flower on the jade pendant. Without speaking, he simply nodded.
To an ordinary person, Sheng Jiao appeared no different than usual—just as cold. But Yan Jianlan had spent enough time with him to naturally understand that the Heavenly Dao lord had been coaxed into happiness.
That snow on the mountaintop that even sunlight couldn’t melt had been nearly melted into gurgling spring water by a single gift. Yan Jianlan’s sense of accomplishment overflowed. Right then, he only wanted to keep this rare joy going, chattering on without thinking:
“It’s better than that half-moon patterned one from back then, hahaha. It’s fine that one was destroyed anyway—it wasn’t worth much. This spiritual artifact can supposedly also…”
Sheng Jiao suddenly looked up, his ink-black eyes fixing intently on Yan Jianlan.
Yan Jianlan, who’d been chattering away, froze: “Huh? What’s wrong?”
After a long silence, Sheng Jiao suddenly asked coldly, as if he’d figured something out.
“How do you know that half-moon patterned jade pendant was destroyed?”
Sheng Jiao had never spoken a word to anyone else about the spirit fox destroying the jade pendant.
Yan Jianlan stiffened.
Oh no.
He’d been so focused on coaxing Sheng Jiao that he’d forgotten about the stupid thing he’d done back then.
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(advanced chapters available on kofi)
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152