Chapter 7

Yuan Xi reached out and gently patted Fu Jing’s hand, soothing him in a soft voice: “No need to rush. ‘More haste, less speed.’ Look at your master—he was too impatient in his cultivation before and almost suffered a qi deviation.”

Bai Yichen, holding a wine cup, took a sip to hide his embarrassment before smiling and putting on a serious face: “Exactly. There’s no need to rush cultivation—steadiness is key!”

Then, remembering something, he turned to Yuan Xi: “Oh right, I heard your senior brother is coming out of seclusion. They asked me to check—when are you returning to Bicang? Yuqiong Peak is your home. You can’t just never go back.”

Yuan Xi let out a bitter laugh—they’d even roped Bai Yichen into pressuring her.

“I’ll go back in three years.”

Three years.

At those words, Fu Jing’s expression darkened.

He knew exactly what it meant, and his hand unconsciously clenched.

“I plan to take Fu Jing out for training in a couple of days.”

Both men looked up at her in surprise.

Hearing training, Bai Yichen perked up.

“Oh? Where to?”

“He’s made some progress in his cultivation now. I heard there’s a water demon causing trouble in a town to the east. I’ll take him there to get some experience.”

Wasn’t slaying monsters and leveling up the whole point of cultivation? Lately, her spiritual energy had stalled at 40% recovery—maybe fighting a few beasts would push it to 50%.

And given the original body’s formidable strength, even at half power, few could match her.

Fu Jing was thrilled.

This was his first time leaving since arriving here.

Bai Yichen grinned and thumped his chest.

“I’m coming too!”

Having another strong fighter along wasn’t a bad idea, so she nodded.

“Fine, you can tag along.”

Everyone happily cleared the table—Bai Yichen washed the dishes, Yuan Xi went to bathe, and Fu Jing practiced his martial arts.

Yuan Xi carried her clothes to the bathing chamber, shut the door securely, and walked over to the tub.

She dipped her fingers in the water—still warm.

A satisfied smile curled her lips.

Fu Jing was meticulous, having prepared a private bathtub just for her.

Every time, he made sure to boil water in advance and fill the tub for her, even though he knew she could heat it with spiritual energy.

He refused to let her waste spiritual energy on such trivial matters.

Seven years had passed since she took Fu Jing in.

These little daily gestures were precious.

Unconsciously, like a spring breeze, he had quietly seeped into her life—now inseparable, like her own child.

Yuan Xi soaked in the tub, enjoying the moment, when suddenly—

A black-clad figure burst through the window, sword in hand, lunging straight for her!

Yuan Xi instantly activated her spiritual energy.

Her robes flew onto her body as she leaped from the tub, narrowly dodging the strike.

Outside, Fu Jing, in the middle of training, heard the commotion and rushed in.

Seeing the assassin attacking Yuan Xi, his heart lurched.

In one swift motion, he drew the flexible blade coiled at his waist and parried the assailant’s sword.

The assassin tried to evade Fu Jing, aiming again for Yuan Xi, but each time, Fu Jing intercepted.

Forced into combat, the assassin had no choice but to engage.

Yuan Xi flung her damp hair back, gathered a droplet of water at her fingertip, and flicked it—

Thwip!

It pierced straight through the assassin’s shoulder.

“Ugh!”

He grunted in pain as blood gushed from the tiny hole.

In that split second, Fu Jing’s blade pressed against his throat.

“Don’t move.”

The razor-sharp edge kissed his neck—one twitch, and it would slit his throat.

Fu Jing kicked away the assassin’s sword, stomped on his knee to force him down, and pinned him in place.

It was over before Bai Yichen could even arrive.

Taking in the scene, he suddenly felt a bit superfluous—but still, with the mindset of an onlooker here for the drama, he leaned against the wall to watch.

The assassin, unwilling to accept defeat, glared hatefully at Yuan Xi.

She stepped forward, yanked off his face covering, and studied his unfamiliar features—no recognition.

But presence mattered.

Her voice turned icy.

“Who sent you?”

The assassin stiffened his neck and spat, “Just kill me if you’re going to! Stop wasting breath!”

Fu Jing’s eyes darkened.

His blade pressed harder, drawing a thin line of blood.

The assassin hissed in pain and froze.

“If you won’t talk, I have ways to make you.”

Yuan Xi raised a hand and lightly tapped his throat.

A strange sensation spread through the assassin’s neck.

His face paled—this was bad! He’d heard rumors before: Elder Yuan Xi had a golden finger technique. No matter how tight-lipped a dead soldier was, one touch would force them to spill everything.

He immediately tried to bite off his tongue—

But Fu Jing had been watching for this.

The moment he moved, Fu Jing seized his jaw, forcing his mouth open and making suicide impossible.

“Talk. Who sent you?”

“Mmm… it was Liu Qingqing from Lingxiao Sect…”

“Oh, one of the Eight Great Sects I defeated before.”

Yuan Xi shook her head.

“Sent you to kill me? ‘An egg striking a rock’—what was her real goal? Why did she really send you?”

The black-clad man struggled, trying to clamp his mouth shut, but he had no control.

His words spilled out haltingly: “…heard rumors… that you’d lost all your spiritual energy… seemed like an ordinary person… sent me to test the waters.”

So that’s it… Luckily, she hadn’t slacked off these past seven years—her spiritual energy had recovered to 40%, still enough to intimidate.

“Well, now you’ve seen it. Rumors are just rumors.”

The assassin’s eyes filled with defeat as he lowered his head in silence.

“Go back and tell Liu Qingqing—I’ll pay her a visit myself soon. Tell her to ‘wash her neck and wait’!”

Might as well let him spread the word—she wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

Hearing this, Fu Jing released him.

The moment he was free, the assassin bolted.

Bai Yichen stared at Yuan Xi in pleasant surprise.

“Great! Old Chen told me before that you’d lost all your spiritual energy, but I didn’t believe it. So you’ve recovered?”

Yuan Xi lowered her voice.

“Not fully. Only 40%.”

Bai Yichen’s smile froze. “…And you’re still taking Fu Jing out for training?”

“Aiya, aren’t you here?”

So she’s using me as a human shield.

Well, he did owe her.

“Fine, I’ve got your back!”

Fu Jing noticed her damp hair clinging to her robes, the fabric now semi-transparent and outlining her slender, graceful figure.

His expression darkened instantly.

He stepped forward, blocking Bai Yichen’s line of sight and shielding Yuan Xi behind him.

“Master, Elder Sister was still bathing. You should leave first.”

Bai Yichen snapped back to reality, his ears tingeing red.

“Right, right.”

He hurried out.

Now only Yuan Xi and Fu Jing remained in the room.

A soft chuckle came from behind him.

Fu Jing turned, exasperated. “…Elder Sister.”

“I’m fully dressed, what’s there to worry about?”

“It’s improper.”

This kid… After a few years at the academy, he’s lecturing me on propriety.

She looked up at him, still smiling.

Her face was as delicate as peach blossoms, her skin fairer than snow with a rosy flush, faint dimples appearing when she grinned—radiant, like blooming flowers.

Fu Jing forced the heat in his gaze into something deeper, his throat tight.

“The water’s gone cold. I’ll heat another bucket.”

“No need for the trouble.”

Yuan Xi swirled her hand in the water, and slowly, steam began to rise.

Remembering how Fu Jing had called Bai Yichen “Master” earlier, a pang of jealousy struck.

“You know, you’ll call Bai Yichen ‘Master,’ but you still won’t call me ‘Mother’?”

Fu Jing’s face darkened so severely it could’ve scared children into tears.

Seeing his displeasure, Yuan Xi rose on her tiptoes and patted his cheeks lightly.

“Don’t glare like that, you’ll frighten me to death.”

His expression softened slightly at her teasing smile—until her next words choked him.

“Calling me ‘Elder Sister’ makes me feel a whole generation below Bai Yichen.”

After living for centuries, she deserved the title “Mother” at least once.

“I’ve raised you like a mother all these years. Just say it once!”

“No.”

She continued needling him.

“If you won’t call me ‘Mother,’ how about ‘Master’? I did teach you martial arts and cultivation.”

Pushed to his limit, Fu Jing let out a cold laugh.

“Yuan Xi.”

She smacked his shoulder. “No respect! You don’t get to call me by name.”