Chapter 279

“How did you end up here?” Li Yu did not struggle, lying quietly on the bed, refusing to look at Lu Fang seated beside it.

Lu Fang whispered, “I’ve been here all along.”

He then recounted everything that had happened before—speaking alone, listening alone, occasionally asking a question or two.

The noisy rain outside the window made the room feel strangely peaceful.

Perhaps Li Yu’s spirit had been too tightly wound, or perhaps for other reasons, she soon fell asleep.

The Book Spirit Yan Chixia appeared like a ghost in the room; just as he was about to speak, Lu Fang raised a hand to stop him. Yan Chixia nodded and dissolved into a wisp of smoke that slipped into Lu Fang’s body.

Lu Fang sat by the bed the entire night, as if he could never look his fill at Li Yu, his gaze never leaving her face.

At dawn, the inn’s rooster crowed, waking Li Yu. Her eyes met Lu Fang’s, and her face flushed instantly: “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I’m afraid if I look away for a second, you’ll run off again,” Lu Fang said, half-angry, poking her forehead. His tone held a hint of reproach.

Li Yu sat up abruptly, denying it: “What’s there to run from? I just wanted to travel around. My master said it’s good for cultivation.”

Lu Fang smiled at her stubbornness, his voice softening: “Then let me travel with you from now on, alright? I’ve missed you so much, you little troublemaker—running off without a word. Do you know how close I came to going mad thinking of you?”

Li Yu lowered her head, unable to meet Lu Fang’s gaze; her neck and ears turned bright red.

Lu Fang pulled her into a tight embrace and whispered softly into her ear; judging by how much redder her face grew, it must have been something unbearably sweet.

…

“Qian Zheng, Qian Zheng… what are you thinking about? I’ve called your name several times and you didn’t hear me?” Zhao Weiru complained.

She was on her way to the Ping’an Inn when she happened to meet Qian Zheng on the road. She greeted him warmly, but he walked past as if deaf, his expression blank and distant.

“Weiru, it’s you,” Qian Zheng snapped back to awareness, his face troubled. He lowered his voice: “I was lost in thought. I didn’t hear you call.”

“What were you thinking about so hard?” Zhao Weiru pressed.

The Water Village was small. If anything important had happened, everyone would know. Seeing how deeply Qian Zheng had been lost in thought, she suddenly grew curious—what could he possibly be thinking about?

Qian Zheng gave a bitter smile: “I promised Brother Lu I wouldn’t tell.”

Zhao Weiru raised an eyebrow. Hearing it involved Lu Youwei, her interest spiked. For some reason, she hadn’t noticed it before, but over time, she’d always felt Lu Youwei carried an inexplicable calmness.

Her gaze would naturally drift toward him. These past two days, she’d even begun questioning herself—had she fallen for Lu Youwei?

So she was deeply curious about anything concerning him.

Qian Zheng shook his head vigorously: “Weiru, I really can’t tell. I promised Brother Lu. If I let it slip and you accidentally reveal it, Brother Lu and Li Yu the Confucian might leave together.”

“What? Isn’t Li Yu the Confucian already gone from Water Village?” Zhao Weiru looked utterly baffled, tilting her head. “What could possibly make Master Lu and Li Yu the Confucian leave together? What are you talking about?”

Qian Zheng only smiled bitterly and shook his head, as if he wouldn’t say another word.

But the more he refused, the more curious Zhao Weiru became. She deliberately stiffened her face: “Will you tell me or not? I’ll tell only you—I swear I won’t tell anyone else. If you won’t, fine, I won’t force you.”

Qian Zheng nodded eagerly: “I knew you weren’t unreasonable, Weiru.”

Zhao Weiru crossed her arms and smiled: “But from now on, you won’t speak to me, and I won’t speak to you either.”

“Ah!” Qian Zheng looked utterly miserable.

Finally, after hesitation, he pulled Zhao Weiru to a secluded spot with a mysterious air: “I’ll tell you this secret, but you absolutely must not tell anyone, alright?”

“You’re so tedious. Do I look like the kind of person who talks?” Zhao Weiru snapped impatiently.

Qian Zheng smiled: “Yesterday, I was asleep when I heard noise from Brother Lu’s room. I thought there were thieves, so I climbed into the courtyard and went inside—only to realize something was terribly wrong.”

“Wrong? What was wrong?” Zhao Weiru asked, playing along.

Qian Zheng continued: “Brother Lu’s room was freezing cold, and ice had formed on the floor. He said it was nothing and told me to leave. But then I saw Li Yu the Confucian lying on the bed, injured.”

“What! Really?” Zhao Weiru gasped, her mind instantly flooded with thoughts.

“True,” Qian Zheng said seriously. “I was confused too—weren’t you and I the ones who saw Li Yu the Confucian off?”

“Then Brother Lu told me the truth: an outsider had chased Li Yu the Confucian to the inn, but Brother Lu’s Book Spirit killed the intruder.”

“Wait.” Zhao Weiru was confused—Qian Zheng’s words were too dense. She hesitated: “The Brother Lu you mean… is that the same Master Lu I’m thinking of? You say he has a Book Spirit? How is that possible? He’s not even a Confucian.”

Qian Zheng explained: “It’s the same Master Lu you mean. He’s actually the Great Zhou’s Literary Crown Marquis, Lu Fang—but he disguised his appearance and cultivation base.”

Zhao Weiru froze, then frowned and punched Qian Zheng’s arm. “Qian Zheng! Are you mocking me? Do you think I’d believe this? The Literary Crown Marquis Lu Fang? You’re making this up!”

“I swear it’s true!” Qian Zheng said earnestly. “Right before my eyes, Brother Lu pulled out a storage pouch, took out an elixir, and fed it to Li Yu the Confucian. Then she emitted a pale green aura of righteous qi.”

“Brother Lu even restored his true appearance. I have his portrait at home—I couldn’t possibly mistake him.”

“I know it sounds unbelievable. When I found out, my mind went blank too—but it’s all real.”

“Think about it—why could we so easily absorb the scent of scholarly qi from the elegant texts Brother Lu read? Because he wrote them himself.”

“So you mean… that down-on-his-luck hunter Master Lu is the Great Zhou’s Literary Crown Marquis Lu Fang?” Zhao Weiru shook her head rapidly.

Qian Zheng looked miserable: “I already told you—he’s the Marquis on a journey, deliberately hiding his identity.”

Seeing Zhao Weiru still doubtful, Qian Zheng grew desperate: “I’m telling the truth! When have I ever lied to you?”