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Kapitel 16

My hand felt warm; she had gripped it tightly. She patted my head twice—a clumsy way of comforting me. Her words of comfort were also clumsy, repeating only two phrases over and over: "Don't be sad, don't overthink it. Aren't you alright now? Everything's fine, everything's fine."

Who said she was slow-witted and rude? Actually, she is gentle and meticulous, just not good at expressing herself and a bit silly.

Yang Shen pressed his forehead against her palm, his voice trembling: "...Senior Sister, if only one person can obtain Zhan Chun, and the one who doesn't gets it is doomed, what will you do?"

Yichun was stunned. After a long pause, she hesitated and said, "Really? Someone you can't have has to die?"

"I was just saying...what if."

"Oh, then I will try my best to get the Spring-Slaying Sword, and then protect you and not let anyone kill you."

The answer was given without hesitation, without even a second thought.

Yang Shen felt a strange urge to smile. He gripped Yi Chun's hand tightly and whispered, "Then... me too. Senior Sister, I will never let anyone kill you."

Yichun asked hesitantly, "Hey, is this really just a hypothetical scenario? How did you come up with such a dangerous idea?"

Yang Shen wiped his face and finally raised his head. His eyes were still a little red, but the almost desperate look on his face had disappeared.

He gave a slightly shy yet smug smile and said softly, "Give me fifty coins, and I'll tell you how I came up with this idea."

...This person will inevitably become obsessed with money and never be able to escape it.

The turmoil, neither too big nor too small, has temporarily come to an end. While recuperating at the inn, Yichun occasionally thinks of the people she has met: the cunning and fickle Shu Jun, the bullying Xiaoyaomen, and the familiar-looking young man in blue. Each of them seems very complicated, completely different from her simple life over the past fifteen years.

The martial arts world is indeed a chaotic place.

She began to miss everything about Jianlan Manor: her nagging but loving parents, her strict and cold but fair and selfless master, and even Mo Yunqing's harsh words felt warm.

I wonder if Yang Shen will also feel nostalgic like her.

She was fine with her shoulder injury, but washing her hair was a real hassle. To avoid getting water in the wound, she hadn't washed her hair since the injury started. After so many days, even she found the smell unpleasant, and finally, she asked the waiter to bring two buckets of hot water. She carefully took her hair apart and washed it.

When Yang Shen knocked on the door, she had just gotten her hair wet and couldn't get up for a moment, so she called out, "Just come in! Why are you knocking!"

As soon as he entered, he saw that the man had taken off all but a thin old undergarment, with large holes worn through his arms and back, and two brazen straps of his undergarment sticking out of the holes to greet him.

"Damn it! Don't you have any sense of caution?! How dare you come in like this?!"

Yang Shen couldn't help but curse and turned to leave.

"I'm washing my hair, not taking a bath! What are you thinking, you pervert!" Yichun was baffled.

Yang Shen felt he was going to be driven crazy by her sooner or later. He slammed his fist on the door and roared, "You mean anyone can wash their hair in front of him with their clothes down? What were you eating to grow up like this?"

"Of course I knew it was you, that's why I called you in! Do you think I'm that stupid?"

You're so stupid! Yang Shen let out a weak breath, and the anger he had just felt suddenly disappeared.

Okay, she said it was okay because it was him, but he wouldn't admit that he was suddenly happy because of that. Hmm, it must be because of the bond between fellow disciples, that's right, the bond between fellow disciples, their good relationship would surely please their master.

So now he was itching to do something and couldn't help but turn back to look at her. It wasn't for any other reason than that he felt she was injured and unable to move around easily, and as her junior brother, he had to step in to help.

Suddenly, a garment was draped over Yichun, covering the holes in her old undergarment and the exposed skin. Puzzled, she scratched her head and looked up, only to see Yang Shen sitting opposite her, sleeves rolled up, a stern face on his face, saying in a deep voice, "I...I'll be kind and help you wash!"

She couldn't help but grin, handing him her hair with peace of mind, letting him pour hot water over it while she lowered her head, then taking a soap pod and carefully rubbing it.

"Thank you, Yang Shen, you're such a kind person."

His heart skipped a beat for no reason, and his cheeks suddenly felt hot. He panicked, slapped her on the head, and said deliberately, "You're filthy! Look, the water in the basin has turned black!"

Actually, she wasn't dirty or ugly.

His fingertips touched her soft, damp hair, like smooth silk, which made him unconsciously soften his movements, as if he would hurt her if he were to be even slightly rough.

She was wearing her own dark blue coarse cloth coat, which was a little too big. When she leaned forward, her back looked even more slender, as if it might break if you hit it.

I can hardly believe that such a young and frail body possesses such great strength, fighting its way out to save him.

I want to ask her what she was thinking at that moment. Was it because he was her junior brother, her fellow disciple, and she had to save him—or was it for something else? Those "other things" that were vaguely etched in his mind, things he himself dared not even think about.

He couldn't bring himself to ask, so he could only gaze quietly at her slender nape, where the soft, downy hair was undeniably adorable. Because it was usually hidden by her hair and collar, the skin on the back of her neck wasn't dark, but rather a gentle, fair white.

As I looked at it, I couldn't help but gently touch it with my fingertips, and my heart felt as if I were intoxicated.

Yang Shen told himself: Fellow disciples, fellow disciples, fellow disciples...

But he softly called out, "Yichun."

"Hmm?" She agreed readily, completely unaware of the change in address.

Yang Shen panicked a little and stammered, "Yichun... no, Yi... clothes! I mean, your bundle was taken by Shu Jun, and you didn't have any clean clothes, so I bought you new clothes!"

Yichun wrung out her freshly washed hair, held it wet in her hands, and looked around with delight, exclaiming, "Hey? Yang Shen, you bought me clothes? Where are they?"

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, pointed to the bed, and sure enough, there was a light blue new silk dress on it.

Yichun happily unfolded the skirt, feeling its softness; it was clearly of superior quality. The neckline and hem were embroidered with orchids, exquisitely detailed. But none of this could compare to the skirt's color, like the thinnest, most transparent layer of blue in the sky at dawn.

She turned to look at Yang Shen in disbelief: "So beautiful! Thank you, sheep kidney!"

He cleared his throat, his face flushed, and turned his head away from her, saying casually, "Don't mention it... you saved me. And that little bag over there... I'm not good at choosing these things, you can throw it away if you don't like it..."

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Minor chapter revisions.

Chapter Ten