As time reached midnight, the cold moonlight spread pale across the towering walls of the Seat of Divine Foresight and the tightly shut vermilion gates, adding a sense of solemnness to the night.
In the quietness of this deep night, with the footsteps of the patrolling guards sounding especially distant, a slender shadow appeared silently atop the roof—fine as flowing silk, leaving no ripple or noise behind.
As the moonlight shone upon the shadow, their figure was revealed—a slender and beautiful young woman with long white hair tipped in light blue, pale skin, and light-red eyes.
Who else but Jingliu?
On the roof, Jingliu scanned the surroundings and, finding nothing unusual, lowered the tip of the ice sword she held against the ground and let it go.
*Clang!*
As the ice sword struck the ground, it toppled—its blade tip pointing in a certain direction.
Jingliu gazed that way for a moment before tapping the roof tiles with her toes, her figure instantly vanishing as she slipped soundlessly into the shadows like a swift night owl.
===
In a secluded little courtyard, a few carefully tended flowers and plants stretched their leaves beneath the moonlight, and near them was a stone bench with someone sitting leisurely on it.
Lucian sat alone on the stone bench, his back facing the small, refined building behind him, where a dim yellow lamp was still lit.
As for why he was here and not sleeping with Baiheng, Baiheng had long since run out of strength and was now lying fast asleep on the soft bed inside his room, so he came here to cool the fire inside him down, thanks to the night breeze that carried a soothing chill.
'Actually daring to tease me all by herself... Last time she didn't pass out was only because Jingliu shared the burden with her.'
Lucian couldn't help but grumble inwardly about Baiheng while gazing at the artificial night sky.
Earlier, Baiheng had teased him relentlessly, yet after just a few rounds, she actually ended up fainting from exhaustion.
Even though he hadn't been satisfied yet, he still understood how to cherish delicate beauty, so, left with no choice, he came outside to cool off in the night breeze.
Unfortunately, this peace was shattered like still water struck by a stone as an extreme cold suddenly came without warning, piercing straight through his clothes and stabbing into his marrow.
Sensing the sudden cold, his muscles tensed in a fraction of an instant as the instinct honed by countless life-and-death battles seized control of his body like lightning.
*Swish!*
In just a fraction of less than a second, Lucian's right hand instinctively clenched into a fist brimming with energy, whistling through the air as he turned and swung it fiercely toward the source of the cold.
As the strike howled, energy surging, ready to engulf and tear apart the silent figure approaching from behind, in that split second, his gaze finally caught the blurred outline of the intruder.
In that instant, the moonlight revealed a familiar, slender figure, long hair white as snow—and above all, those red eyes gleaming with piercing light.
"Jingliu?!"
A low gasp caught in Lucian's throat, and at that same moment, his strike, carrying unstoppable force, froze the instant it brushed against Jingliu's clothes.
*Whoosh!*
In an instant, the gust from Lucian's fist lifted Jingliu's white hair—just a hair's breadth more, and her head would have been smashed like a shattered watermelon by his fist.
Yet Jingliu had not dodged, nor even tried to defend.
Instead, she lifted both of her hands and clutched his fist tightly, like a drowning person grasping a final piece of driftwood.
"Master... It's me..."
Jingliu's voice was harsh and broken, every word squeezed out as if from a throat frozen solid.
Lucian stood frozen, truly not expecting her to arrive so quickly, for he had thought it would take several days at the earliest, perhaps months at the longest.
But more importantly, the moment she appeared and called him 'Master,' didn't that mean she had accepted the second memory from the script?
Still, that cold aura from earlier—was it her resentment over his sudden departure, or something else?
Lucian couldn't help but wonder.
"It's only been a few days, and I thought you were gonna turn into a rebellious disciple already." Lucian smiled and joked lightly.
Hearing his familiar joke, Jingliu couldn't help but recall the happiness of the past—the happiness she had finally found, the happiness she had nearly lost by her own hands.
"I'm sorry… Master…" Jingliu clutched Lucian's fist tightly, as if pouring her entire strength into it. "I won't sulk and throw tantrums anymore... Just... Just don't abandon me again… please..."
A sharp pain instantly tugged at Lucian's heart as he witnessed her actually taking the initiative to apologize.
Now, his usually cold and aloof disciple seemed as fragile as glass, ready to shatter at any second if he wasn't careful.
"I never planned to abandon you..." Lucian soothed gently, opening his arms and pulling that cold, trembling body tightly into his embrace. "Everything had a reason. I'll tell you slowly, alright?"
Jingliu stayed silent and didn't resist at all as she buried herself deeper into his chest, her arms locked tightly around his waist, squeezing him so hard that Lucian could do nothing.
Her cheek pressed against the skin of his neck, drinking in that reassuring warmth, while he rested his chin softly on her chilled hair, one hand gently patting her delicate back while the other pulled her tighter into his hold.
*Whoosh—*
Just then, the night breeze passed, stirring their hair until it tangled together.
Jingliu rubbed against Lucian's neck insistently, her nose greedily breathing in that familiar, comforting scent unique to him—the scent that was like medicine, soothing her taut nerves bit by bit.
However, she soon realized that, wrapped in that warmth, another faint, foreign scent slipped into her sharp senses like a stone tossed into calm water—it was none other than a woman's body scent.
And deeper still, it was a subtle, private scent, laced with the faint trace of passion—a scent she knew all too well.
Jingliu's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, then she raised her face slightly from the hollow of Lucian's neck and inhaled again to confirm.
In that instant, she was convinced—the scent lingering on her master, entwined in the fabric of his clothes, along his neck, even seeping into the warmth of his skin, was none other than the scent of Baiheng.
Another solid proof was the strand of purple hair stuck to her master's neck.
"Baiheng was here before me...?"
Jingliu's muffled voice came, no longer fragile but frosted with ice, causing Lucian's hand on her back to pause for a beat.
Lucian lowered his gaze, meeting Jingliu's serene red eyes.
"Yeah, she's already asleep..." Lucian's tone carried a forced calm, as though trying to gloss something over. "You can see her tomorrow when she wakes up."
Jingliu was silent for a moment, then rose on her toes, her nose almost brushing his, her heated breath sliding along his jaw.
"What were you two just doing?"
As Jingliu asked, her voice was low, tinged with provocation yet sharp as a question, making Lucian instantly feel a twinge of guilt.
He couldn't help it.
While Jingliu had been desperately searching for him, he had been 'smashing' Baiheng, which honestly wasn't the most respectable thing.
However, what could he do?
Even if he had wanted to search for Jingliu, he hadn't known her whereabouts, so all he could do was wait—it wasn't entirely his fault.
Lucian sighed deeply, released Jingliu, sat down on the stone bench, averted his gaze to the sky, and spoke up.
"Nothing much... We were just playing cards, waiting for you—"
"Playing cards? Waiting for me?" Jingliu cut him off, her voice rising with a bitter, mocking edge. "Master, do you think I'm some clueless kid?"
In the next moment, she suddenly straddled Lucian's lap and cupped his face, her expression grave.
"Are you still angry with me? If you've forgiven me, then prove it to me..." Jingliu said with a heavy breath, her gaze turning slightly obsessive. "Whatever Baiheng had, I want it too."
Right after those words fell, her arms, supple yet firm, instantly wrapped around Lucian's neck, while her body leaned forward, pressing her soft mounds against his solid chest without the slightest gap, causing their forms to distort slightly.
Jingliu's slender but unyielding frame, with its chill, created a strange and stirring pressure.
Lucian, cornered, had no choice but to prove he truly wasn't angry with her.
===
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