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March 31 - April 28, 2023
Meng Mo became depressed. “Can you go three sentences without mentioning that master of yours, boy?
Ding-dong. Now of all fucking times, a System notification sprang up:
He absolutely had to become stronger! So strong that he would never be powerless—strong enough that he could protect Shizun from any hand that dared reach for him.
Luo Binghe knew his master was worried about him not resting enough and agreed with a smile—but he still planned to sneak off to the kitchen to work later.
Luo Binghe smiled. “Then many thanks to Senior.” He wasn’t remotely willing to call anyone other than Shen Qingqiu “Shizun.”
However, though Shen Qingqiu told himself this, every time he finished thinking about it, the next time he saw Luo Binghe—and that pure and innocent face, that hard-working figure—he would always, immediately, praise him out of habit.
“Why does Shizun keep looking at me?” he asked. “Could it be that this disciple was gone for so long that Shizun also missed him?” “I’m not allowed to look at someone I raised?” asked Shen Qingqiu. Luo Binghe chortled. “Of course Shizun is allowed. Am I pleasing to look at?”
“Beautiful beyond comprehension?” he muttered. She wasn’t even showing her entire face. No matter how beautiful she was, could she be better-looking than him?
People sure do take advantage of kindness, huh!
Textbook foot fetish material!
Are you handing me a piece of candy before you stab me?
Just then, an arrow of light made of pure spiritual energy flew through the night and pierced its still howling mouth, skewering a hole clean through it. Amidst the sudden silence and everyone’s dazed stares, Shen Qingqiu rubbed his sore ears, slowly shook out his sleeves, and with a snap of his fan, murmured, “Shut up.”
This really isn’t the time! Why must you be so filial at this critical juncture?! I can’t tell you that the only way to completely cure the poison is to take a trip to pound town with you, okay?!
If the original Shen Qingqiu had heard this, he would have coughed up three liters of blood and run away crying to make a voodoo doll.
In truth, these words he spoke were purely an expression of the regrets within his heart. As the male lead, Luo Binghe was indeed blessed with spectacular talent. If Shen Qingqiu had to describe what he was feeling with absolute honesty, it was admiration, with the tiniest bit of envy.
“Shizun, do you really want to kill me?” Luo Binghe couldn’t believe it. “I don’t want to kill you.” Unable to look at his expression, Shen Qingqiu’s gaze went right through him.
Though Ming Fan hated Luo Binghe and was always cursing at him to go die, he’d never really wanted him dead. Moreover, when he thought about how much Shizun had adored him, and how this shitty brat had died without even leaving a corpse—Shizun had to be terribly sad, and Ming Fan couldn’t be happy about that either.
Actually, now that he’d reached the Core Formation stage, it didn’t matter whether he ate or not. He’d just had a sudden craving and wanted to eat some snacks, and he had for a moment forgotten that he’d already thrown Luo Binghe into the Endless Abyss.
No! Bah! Shen Qingqiu mentally slapped himself. Who are you calling a grieving widow?! Whose husband died?! That’s not something you should just say—you’re really getting worse by the day. A negative mindset produces nothing good. You deserve a slap!
Shen Qingqiu had brought the broken pieces of Zheng Yang back with him. He messily dug a hole behind Qing Jing Peak’s Bamboo House, erected a tablet, and set up a sword mound.
Only Shen Qingqiu knew that the one he was mourning was in truth within that sword mound, buried underneath and never to return: that youth as warm as the sun.
