"You coming to find me means trouble, ten times out of ten." Despite his words, Mo Sigui still turned around. "Go on."
"The mist on the island is thinning. Is there no way to compensate for Dream Blossom's weakness?" Chu Dingjiang was gradually realizing that keeping Wei Yuzhi might have been a mistake. Even if this man could alter the situation in Liao, Chu couldn't shake the constant worry that An Jiu might fall victim to his schemes.
Mo Sigui descended the steps, picked up the pipe from the ground, and walked toward the pavilion. "What, is Dream Blossom dying?"
Chu Dingjiang followed. "It won't die, but if someone were to launch a surprise attack now, the poisonous mist would be nearly useless."
Lanterns hung from the four corners of the pavilion, casting mottled shadows from the evergreen trees onto the ground. As the wind blew, the light and shadows swayed, creating a hazy and tranquil atmosphere.
Mo Sigui reclined in the rocking chair inside the pavilion, meticulously wiping the pipe with a cloth, his tone indifferent. "Seems like you're always asking me for favors."
"It's not a request." Chu Dingjiang sat on the stone stool, looking at him seriously. "You were dragged into this mess by Gu Jinghong too. Do you really think you can stay out of it?"
As Mo Sigui cleaned the pipe, his mouth grew increasingly dry, craving another puff of the Medicated Smoke. He smiled bitterly to himself—medicine was three parts poison. His growing addiction to the smoke wasn't much different from being hooked on opium, was it?
Noticing the slight change in Mo Sigui's expression and the way his grip on the pipe loosened and tightened, Chu Dingjiang could roughly guess what was on his mind. He poured a cup of cold water and pushed it toward him.
Mo Sigui smacked his lips, picked up the cup, and raised an eyebrow. "You're not trying to poison me, are you?"
"Do you think I'd need poison?" Chu Dingjiang countered.
Killing someone was as simple as raising his blade—far quicker than using poison.
Mo Sigui took a sip. The icy cold stung his mouth, and he frowned, waiting for the discomfort to pass. "Speaking of Gu Jinghong, it all feels like a dream to me."
That man had come and gone, fleeting through the world like a passing shadow—truly a glance that startled the senses.
"Dream Blossom blooming all year is already a stretch. I don’t have the skill to modify them—I’m a physician, not a gardener." Mo Sigui sipped the water slowly, gradually adjusting to the temperature until it became quite pleasant. "To strengthen our defenses, we’ll have to look elsewhere. I planted a ring of Blood-Eating Orchids around the Dream Blossom—they bloom in winter. Unfortunately, they grow slowly, and half are still just sprouts."
Chu Dingjiang lowered his gaze to the pipe in Mo Sigui's hand. "Could we use something similar to Dream Blossom’s smoke?"
"Brewing the Medicine isn’t hard, but you should know ordinary smoke won’t linger around the plants like Dream Blossom’s does. It would dissipate quickly once released," Mo Sigui explained.
"I know. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be asking you." Chu Dingjiang’s tone practically screamed, "I really don’t want to deal with you unless I have to."
Mo Sigui lazily leaned back in his chair, swaying gently with the cup in hand. Hearing this, he tilted his head and grinned. "Thanks for the high regard, but don’t you think you’re overreacting? That person of yours—if she’s not out there hunting people down, it’s already a blessing."
Chu Dingjiang said, "I suspect Wei Yuzhi is nearby. It’s best to address the gaps in our defenses. Whatever herbs you need, just name them—"
"Really?" Mo Sigui’s eyes lit up as he cut him off.
"I’ll consider it," Chu Dingjiang added, finishing his earlier thought.If he didn't seize the opportunity to demand exorbitant terms, he wouldn't be Mo Sigui. Even though Chu Dingjiang was deeply concerned about An Jiu, he wasn't a fool. He could roughly discern which medicines were necessary and which weren't, and wouldn't simply allow himself to be fleeced.
"Deal." Mo Sigui knew Chu Dingjiang was going easy on him, deliberately letting him have some benefits, so he unceremoniously accepted them.
Mo Sigui understood Chu Dingjiang's mindset well. If it weren't for An Jiu, given his cunning nature and the strained relationship between them, he would never have agreed to such a disadvantageous deal.
"You've got it tough too. Consider this my good deed for the day," Mo Sigui said, rubbing salt in the wound after already gaining the upper hand.
Chu Dingjiang paid no heed and stood up to leave.
"Are you really going to wade into this muddy water?" Mo Sigui suddenly asked.
Chu Dingjiang paused on the stone steps and turned back. "Yes."
No further explanation was needed. He knew Mo Sigui was referring to the struggle for the throne.
"Everyone has their own path," Mo Sigui murmured, stroking his tobacco pipe with a hint of melancholy. In truth, he found Lou Mingyue utterly unfamiliar—cold and aloof—while his memories still held the image of the simple, somewhat tomboyish Qiu Ningyu. Time was cruel, carving an entirely different person out of the same flesh.
If there was one trait Lou Mingyue and Qiu Ningyu still shared, it was stubbornness.
Mo Sigui closed his eyes and said slowly, "When Ningyu was little, she once decided that the Golden Thread Jujube Osmanthus Cake from a particular bakery was the best and refused to buy it anywhere else for over four years. Later, when that bakery went out of business, she went to great lengths to track down the owner, but to no avail. From then on, she never ate Golden Thread Jujube Osmanthus Cake again, convinced no one could make it as well as that baker. The truth is, she had never even tried it from any other bakery. I told her that if the bakery's cakes were truly good, it wouldn't have gone under, but she stubbornly insisted otherwise. Doesn't that make her as obstinate as a mule?"
After a pause with no response, Mo Sigui assumed Chu Dingjiang had already left. But after a long silence, he suddenly heard him say, "Perhaps it wasn’t really about the osmanthus cake. Maybe she was just deeply sentimental. Not eating it was her way of avoiding painful memories?"
Mo Sigui was taken aback. Thinking back carefully, the bakery had been no more than half a zhang wide, its owner a retired soldier with a blackened face but a warm, honest smile. He walked with a limp on his right leg and lived alone behind the shop, keeping many cats and dogs. Every time Qiu Ningyu visited, she would chat with him for hours about border battles.
Yes, deeply sentimental.
It suddenly dawned on Mo Sigui—Lou Mingyue wasn’t just stubborn. She was profoundly loyal and sentimental, unable to let go of certain things in her heart. If she could be so attached to a chance-met bakery owner, how much more so to the tragic deaths of the Qiu couple and her own birth mother? She must have been in unbearable pain...
His eyes stung, and he squeezed them shut tightly.
Under the bright moonlight, at the borderlands of Liao, Song, and Western Xia, the northern wind howled sharply. A dilapidated inn stood at the foot of Black Mountain, its weathered sign creaking in the gale. Every one of its dozen rooms was occupied.
In the backyard, a shadow flickered, and the horses stirred briefly before settling again.A person lay gasping for breath in the haystack at the corner of the stable, their black close-fitting outfit clinging tightly to their soaked body. Soon, dark red liquid seeped into the hay, staining a large patch with a heavy metallic scent of blood.
The figure pulled down their mask, revealing a strikingly beautiful yet fierce face.
Her delicate brows were tightly knitted as she roughly tore open her clothes, exposing a mangled, bloody shoulder. Drawing a dagger from her ankle, she gritted her teeth and dug into the bloody hole in her shoulder.
Moments later, an arrowhead and chunks of flesh fell onto the hay.
She immediately poured a generous amount of Wound Medicine onto the injury before tightly wrapping it with cloth strips.
By the time she finished, sweat poured down her body like rain, leaving her utterly exhausted. Numerous other sword and knife wounds, large and small, still covered her body—she no longer had the strength to tend to them.
After lying in the hay for a while, she forced herself to hastily treat the remaining major wounds before seizing the chance to rest.
Half-asleep, her hand clutched the empty Medicine Bottle tightly, as though holding onto it meant holding onto life itself.
This was Medicine given by Mo Sigui. She had always trusted him implicitly—more than that, he was the only reason she still clung to this world. Gripping the bottle felt like holding Mo Sigui’s hand. With him by her side, she knew she wouldn’t die...
Having lost a significant amount of blood and pushed herself relentlessly, her body was utterly drained. She had intended to stay alert, planning to leave after just an hour of rest, but exhaustion pulled her into unconsciousness.
In her dreams, there was no vision of her father’s tragic death by the river, no undulating water, no half-lidded eyes of her birth mother amidst raging flames. Instead, there was only a young man with peach-blossom eyes, standing in front of Liu’s Pastry Shop under the warm spring sunlight. Leaning against the wall, he watched with amusement as she crouched on the roof, teasing a few cats, occasionally tossing out a few teasing remarks.
It was beautiful.
"Blood on the ground!" A sudden, alarmed shout shattered the peace.
Lou Mingyue’s eyes snapped open. She found herself still lying in the hay, the soft morning light filtering through the window cracks and falling gently on her face. But she didn’t dare linger—rolling over, she swiftly climbed onto the rafters, using her Mental strength to scan the surroundings outside. (To be continued...)
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