Chapter 363

When Ning Ning woke up, the first thing she noticed was the clean, fresh scent of soap.

The fragrance carried a gentle warmth, lingering at her nose and brushing her cheeks, making her instinctively lean toward it. Half-asleep, her thoughts were fuzzy, and she instinctively inched forward—

But something felt off.

Unlike usual, her face was pressed against something unfamiliar.

The sensation was somewhat firm, covered by a layer of soft fabric.

In the silence around her, Ning Ning could clearly feel a steady, rhythmic thudding—a heartbeat.

Her mind suddenly cleared, and she remembered the cold, pale moonlight from the previous night.

Pei Ji’s face… it was pale too.

She and Pei Ji were lying on the same bed.

Last night, they had both been drinking.

Although they weren’t drunk, the alcohol had emboldened them more than usual.

Ning Ning, still dazed, recalled that it was her who had casually invited him to stay.

And that line, “Do you want to hear my heartbeat?”

The tingling warmth spreading from her chest to her veins seemed to linger, gently tickling her heart.

Ning Ning blushed slightly, but what she felt more was an uncontrollable joy and excitement.

Right now, she was in the arms of someone she liked.

His body was warm and comforting.

Snuggling against Pei Ji felt like leaning into a giant, soft, warm teddy bear.

It was blissfully, unimaginably wonderful.

He always woke up early, but today, even with the sun high in the sky, likely nearing noon, Pei Ji was still lying in bed.

Ning Ning’s curiosity was piqued.

She lifted her head from his embrace and looked up.

As expected, she met a pair of dark, pitch-black eyes.

The winter sunlight carried a trace of chill, streaming through the window and illuminating his features.

Pei Ji’s eyes were lowered, allowing Ning Ning to see his long, jet-black lashes clearly.

They fanned out delicately, casting shadows on his deep, vortex-like pupils.

Caught off guard by her sudden movement, his gaze flickered slightly, and his hand instinctively tightened around her, pulling her closer.

“Good morning.”

The warmth of the winter quilt made it hard to leave, and Pei Ji’s embrace was even more inviting.

Ning Ning, enjoying the cozy sensation, wrapped her arms around his waist.

His waist was so slender, the lines flowing down smoothly like water.

Pressing gently, she could feel the firm muscles beneath.

“When did you wake up?”

Her voice was muffled against his chest, tinged with a smile.

“You haven’t moved at all, have you?”

Pei Ji flinched slightly when her touch brushed his waist, as if it tickled.

His breathing was a little uneven.

“Not long ago.”

That, of course, was a lie.

Although the alcohol had made him sleep later than usual, he had still woken up much earlier than her—well before noon, by at least an hour.

For the first time in his life, he woke to something other than a cold, empty bed.

Instead, it was the girl he had admired and longed for.

Pei Ji hadn’t wanted to wake or disturb her. Instead, he had leaned back slightly to quietly observe her sleeping face, tracing her features with his gaze and fingertips.

She was delicate and beautiful, her skin as fair as jade, with a faint blush of pink.

Even in her sleep, the corners of her lips were curved into a soft smile.

Pei Ji had lightly touched her soft lips, secretly kissing the corners of her mouth and the dimples on her cheeks.

Once he was satisfied, he had pulled her back into his embrace, savoring the softness and warmth of her presence in the gentle winter sunlight.

For those moments, she belonged entirely to him.

Once, he had trained obsessively with his sword, deeming idleness a waste of time.

But now, simply holding Ning Ning in his arms without moving was an unparalleled satisfaction.

Pei Ji willingly surrendered himself to this newfound obsession.

“It’s getting late.”

Ning Ning yawned and, through their clothing, playfully poked the indent at his waist.

“When do you plan on getting up?”

Pei Ji: “…”

Pei Ji’s right hand reached up to stroke her hair.

His voice, clear and slightly raspy from sleep, carried a tone so resolute yet tender it almost felt like he was sulking.

“Just a little longer.”

***

Pei Ji, clingy and affectionate in bed, would return to his usual stoic and distant demeanor as a sword cultivator once he was up.

His sword, Cheng Ying, was placed outside the bedroom.

When the two finally stepped out, the sentient weapon seemed to go into a frenzy, bouncing with excitement.

It honked eagerly, “Pei Xiaoji! What did you two do last night? Did you share a bed? Ahhh!”

Ever since Cheng Ying had separated from Pei Ji’s body, Ning Ning could hear its deep, middle-aged voice as well.

Smiling slightly, she patted the sword’s jet-black hilt.

“Take a guess.”

Cheng Ying couldn’t figure it out.

Cheng Ying went mad.

***

As a direct disciple, Ning Ning had her own small courtyard, unlike the shared dormitories of outer sect disciples, which ensured her privacy.

She thought no one would notice Pei Ji’s presence, but as she was about to step out the door, a sudden knock startled her.

Startled, Ning Ning exchanged a guilty glance with Pei Ji.

Only after he nodded did she muster the courage to nonchalantly open the door.

Standing outside were Senior Sister Zheng Weiqi and He Zhizhou—along with a boy and a girl.

“Ning Ning, come out and play! These are my—”

Zheng Weiqi’s cheerful voice faltered when her gaze landed on Pei Ji. Her eyes widened in shock.

“Pei, Junior Brother Pei?”

Ning Ning, caught like a thief in the act, stiffened as she quickly explained, “He came here earlier to practice sword techniques with me!”

Her words were entirely innocent, but in Pei Ji’s ears, they ignited a slow-burning fire that turned his ears red.

Practice sword techniques.

She had once jokingly mentioned a “Wind and Rain Sword Technique” to him back in Jialan.

At the time, he had earnestly believed it was a legitimate technique and had promised to practice it with her.

Now, the memory only left him flustered.

Zheng Weiqi, as straightforward as ever, didn’t read too much into it and simply smiled in acknowledgment.

Ning Ning breathed a quiet sigh of relief, just as the little girl beside Zheng Weiqi asked curiously, “Big Brother just got here? Then why are there no footprints outside the door?”

Ning Ning froze on the spot, feeling the heat rise from her chest to her cheeks.

“I arrived before dawn. The new snow has since covered them.”

Pei Ji’s calm voice saved her.

Holding his sword, he asked Zheng Weiqi, “Senior Sister, who are these two?”

Through Zheng Weiqi’s introduction, Ning Ning learned that the two children were her cousin Qiu Baishuang’s kids.

“My cousin and his wife are attending the Xianling Conference in Xuanxu—the annual end-of-year gathering for powerful figures in the cultivation world,” Zheng Weiqi explained patiently.

“The conference doesn’t end until evening, so they left the kids with me.”

She patted the little girl’s head with a smile.

“This is Qiu Qiu; her nickname is ‘Ball Ball.’ Her younger brother takes their mother’s surname and is named Gu Lu. We call him ‘Gulu.’”

(T/N: rumbling sound of the stomach)

The parents’ naming skills were extraordinary.

Ning Ning suspected that if there were a third child, they might be named simply “Roll,” resulting in a sentence: Ball Ball Gulu Roll.

How wonderfully familial!

The only question would be whether they’d be called “Gu Roll” or “Qiu Roll”—either way, it didn’t sound like someone from the mortal realm.

Despite the grandeur of Xuanxu Sword Sect, the two children, being under ten, cared little for famous landscapes.

Their favorite winter activity was building snowmen and having snowball fights.

He Zhizhou, fond of children, was eager to join in.

“Come on, I’ll build you a snow castle!”

The elder sister, Qiu Qiu, a lively seven- or eight-year-old with big eyes and a rosy face framed by the white fur of her cloak, clapped excitedly.

Her younger brother, Gu Lu, only five, was bundled so tightly he resembled a little bean sprout.

Shy by nature, he stayed close to Zheng Weiqi, curiously glancing around.

“I’ve heard Junior Brother He is quite the poet,” Zheng Weiqi remarked.

“Since it’s snowing heavily now, why not compose a verse?”

In his free time, He Zhizhou occasionally entertained his peers with poetry.

Ning Ning had first confirmed his identity as a transmigrator when he recited a poem that was all too familiar.