Chapter 26: Su Yan

“Jiang Laobai, Shi Lei shixiong… what time do they usually arrive?”

Lin Xiaohé hesitated at the gate for a moment, feeling it too awkward to just wait, then stepped closer, attempting to strike up a conversation with the old man standing by the door, who looked like a stone statue; her voice softened deliberately, tinged with tentative flattery.

Jiang Ye didn’t even bother to fully open his eyelids, appearing deaf and blind, as if dozing off.

Lin Xiaohé got no reply and retreated awkwardly to her original spot, gripping the string of the oil-paper parcel tighter, her gaze now more urgent, fixed on the far end of the long street.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long.

A steady, rhythmic footstep approached from afar, shattering the morning’s stillness.

Shi Lei’s figure appeared around the corner, still running in a light jog, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead in the morning light.

“Shi Lei shixiong, good morning!”

Lin Xiaohé’s eyes suddenly brightened; her face instantly bloomed with an overly radiant smile, like a skylark finally returning to its nest, and she stepped forward briskly to greet him.

“Lin shimei?!”

Shi Lei instinctively halted his steps, looking at the girl blocking his path; his brow twitched almost imperceptibly, then smoothed back into calmness.

His gaze swept over her forced smile and the steaming oil-paper parcel in her hand—no surprise, no emotion.

“Shi Lei shixiong, I got up extra early this morning and made these sesame buns just for you—they’re still warm! Please try one…”

Lin Xiaohé thrust the parcel forward eagerly, her eyes filled with anticipation, even a hint of silent pleading.

But Shi Lei didn’t take the parcel; he waved his hand gently and said flatly, “Thank you, Lin shimei, for your kindness, but I’ve already eaten breakfast—I can’t eat another bite. Keep it for yourself.”

Without so much as another glance at her face, now frozen in shock, or the dismay rising in her eyes, he stepped aside and walked past her without pausing.

As he passed the gate, he stopped briefly, bowed respectfully and earnestly to Jiang Ye—who still seemed half-asleep—and then turned, walking unhurriedly into the Wu Yuan’s main gate.

Lin Xiaohé’s outstretched hand remained frozen in midair; the steam from the oil-paper parcel rose gently, blurring her face, now drained of color.

She stood there dazed, staring at the direction where Shi Lei had vanished, as if all strength had been drained from her.

The slightly chubby cheeks that had moments ago held a forced smile now held nothing but bitterness.

The cold humiliation and despair from last night, when Hu Tian had publicly rejected her and insulted her, had kept her awake all night.

She finally understood: only the simple, honest Shi Lei was someone she could control.

So this morning, she made the buns herself, hoping to warm his cold heart.

She had imagined many possibilities.

She had imagined he might rage at her, sneer coldly, or even break down in grief…

She had secretly hoped he would curse her out—anything, as long as it proved he still cared, that he still felt something.

But she never imagined this… this calm, indifferent rejection, this utter detachment.

Such complete stillness was more unsettling, more painful than any outburst.

Because it meant Shi Lei might never forgive her again.

“Hmm, this young Shi Lei does have some character.”

Jiang Ye, who had appeared to be dozing but had seen everything, nodded slightly inwardly.

As for Lin Xiaohé, her face twisted with bitterness, looking pitifully fragile—he didn’t even bother to look at her.

This outcome was entirely her own doing.

The morning light grew stronger; more disciples arrived at the Wu Yuan.

“Hmm?”

Suddenly, Jiang Ye’s half-closed eyelids flickered slightly; his gaze crossed the crowd, fixed on the other end of the long street.

A finely decorated carriage, bearing the Su family’s emblem, approached slowly and came to a gentle stop before the Wu Yuan’s gate.

“So Su Yan is coming to train today…?”

Jiang Ye felt a flicker of surprise.

Last night’s “battle,” though he’d been passive, had been intense—the Miren drug was too potent; after it was over, Su Yan had been thoroughly worn down.

He hadn’t expected her to show up for training the very next day after such a “heavy blow.”

The carriage curtain parted, and a slender figure leapt down lightly.

It was Su Yan.

Today she wore a well-tailored, high-quality lake-blue martial suit; the fabric was crisp, perfectly contouring the girl’s lithe curves.

Her features remained exquisite, but her gaze now carried a subtle maturity beyond her youthful innocence.

Jiang Ye quickly lowered his head, refusing to look further.

Ever since last night, just seeing her dressed like this made him imagine the exquisite form beneath the fabric.

After all—he had seen it.

“Good morning, Jiang Laobai.”

Su Yan greeted Jiang Ye as usual.

A familiar scent drifted toward him; Jiang Ye’s aged face, normally composed, flushed faintly—he raised his head slightly and returned her greeting: “Miss Su, you’re here early today.”

“Mm…”

As Su Yan stepped toward the Wu Yuan’s gate, her eyes met Jiang Ye’s ancient gaze—and her spirit jolted.

A strong sense of dissonance surged within her.

Uncontrollably, the shameful scene from last night flooded her mind—especially the thin, stern-faced white-haired elder, whose features slowly merged with Jiang Ye’s.

But only for an instant.

Su Yan quickly shook her head, forcing the chaotic thoughts down.

“Am I mad…?”

A faint blush rose on her gentle, radiant face.

What was she thinking?

She had just linked this gatekeeper to that white-haired elder…

How absurd.

The Jiang Ye before her was ancient, frail, his expression kind.

But that white-haired elder stood tall as a spear, his aura sharp as an unsheathed blade, his face cold and savage, his strength beyond the Dark Force realm—unfathomable.

Age, physique, aura, cultivation—there was no similarity at all.

How could she have conjured such a ridiculous notion?

It must be from last night’s trauma—her spirit still unsettled, giving rise to this absurd illusion.

She steadied herself, forced calm, cast one last complex glance at Jiang Ye, then walked into the Wu Yuan.

Jiang Ye watched Su Yan’s slender figure disappear into the distance, his eyes half-lidded, ancient gaze flickering with quiet complexity.

He had no idea what she was thinking—if he had, he’d have marveled at how terrifying a woman’s intuition could be.

Once all disciples had gathered, Liu Qingshi unusually called together both inner and outer courtyard students.

Today he wore no training attire, but a solemn dark-blue long robe, his expression grave, commanding without raising his voice.

Liu Qingshi did not speak immediately; the brief silence deepened the oppressive atmosphere.

Every disciple felt the invisible pressure emanating from a Hua Jing master.

Finally, his deep, resonant voice boomed like distant thunder across the inner courtyard’s training ground, each word clear:

“Zhang Xu—deceitful heart, vile character—violated the Wu Yuan’s iron laws!”

“Effective immediately, he is expelled from the Wu Yuan!”

“Forever banished from the sect!”