The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

Xie Jinlian's attire today was completely different from his usual aloof and ethereal sword immortal appearance.

Her long, silvery hair was half-draped over her shoulders, lacking the coldness and aloofness of a sword immortal, but possessing an indescribable gentleness and allure.

Those silver-gray eyes, once shrouded in dust, were now as clear as the sky after a rain, clean and without a trace of impurity.

Those eyes were so focused that they made her heart tremble, and she couldn't even breathe properly.

"Weaving."

He spoke, his voice like the spring breeze blowing through a bamboo forest, with a kind of husky quality that made one's heart itch.

"Would you like to try... testing your sword... from a wheelchair?"

He asked in a low voice, his tone rising slightly at the end, as if teasing, yet also as a serious invitation.

"I don't want to... I don't want to at all..."

Tang Xixue blushed instantly, even the tips of her ears turned blood red, and she snuggled into his arms, burying her face in his chest.

"Master's hand...don't put it there..."

Her voice conveyed rejection, yet it also seemed to be teasing.

Instead of removing his hand, he went even further.

She felt a tingling sensation in her waist, and her back went limp. She could only cling to him helplessly, her fingertips trembling slightly.

"Zhizhi, you clearly like it a lot, don't you?"

Xie Jinlian chuckled softly.

He already knew exactly what his little apprentice liked in that dream.

"Ugh—"

She let out a muffled groan.

The air inside the room became soft and gentle, and even the flickering candlelight dimmed a little.

Two shadows slowly approached each other in the moonlight, and then slowly merged into one.

"Don't move..."

Tang Xixue said in a muffled voice, reaching out to cover his eyes.

"You...you close your eyes..."

While he obediently closed his eyes, she quickly leaned in and secretly pecked him on the lips.

Light as a dragonfly skimming the water, a butterfly flitting across a petal, touching and then leaving.

Then, like a little fox that has done something wrong, it turns around and tries to run away.

Before she could escape his embrace, she was gently pulled back by a pair of arms and fell back into that cold embrace.

"Kiss and run away... When did I ever teach Zhizhi to be so irresponsible? Hmm?"

Xie Jinlian opened her eyes, her silver-gray pupils now seeming to hold a hidden flame, so deep it sent shivers down one's spine.

His voice was low and hoarse.

"Weaving."

"not enough."

Two simple words, yet they made Tang Xixue's blood rush to her cheeks.

"Master, Master..."

Her voice trembled.

"Just bear with it..."

"Weaving Treasure".

He suddenly changed how he was addressed.

"How can I, your teacher, bear this?"

His gaze was burning hot, like a raging flame that could devour her at any moment.

"Zhizhi, my heart ailment has flared up again. You are my medicine, the only cure for me."

Xie Jinlian took her hand and guided it, gently placing it against his heart.

Through the thin fabric, she could clearly feel the intense and erratic heartbeat beneath her palm.

"Tonight, please, Zhizhi... heal me properly. May I?"

"Little Lotus, stop fooling around." Tang Xixue tried to pull her hand away.

"I beg you, Master." Xie Jinlian's eyes held a hint of pity.

The warm breath brushed against her face, carrying the crisp scent of wine and his unique cool fragrance, enveloping her entirely.

"Granted."

Tang Xixue whispered in his ear as she answered.

Night fell, and the moonlight swayed.

It seemed as if only their intertwined breaths and heartbeats remained in the world.

Only the snow-white fringe tree outside the window occasionally sheds its tiny petals, turning into scattered frost and snow.

"...You bastard..."

After an unknown amount of time, Tang Xixue's voice came from deep within the curtains, soft and without any strength, carrying both anger and languidness after satisfaction.

"Okay, it's my fault..."

Xie Jinlian held her even tighter in his arms. Her waist was as slender as a willow in the breeze. He gently kissed away the fine beads of sweat that had seeped from her forehead and neck.

His movements were extremely gentle.

"Next time...it definitely won't happen again..."

As soon as those two words were uttered, Tang Xixue's cheeks, which had just cooled down a little, suddenly burned again, and even her ears turned bright red.

Next time... there will be a next time?

Xie Jinlian looked down at her.

"Are you tired?"

"Um……"

She gave a muffled reply, her eyelids so heavy she could barely keep them open, her whole body like a pool of melting spring water, nestled softly in his arms.

Before she could drift off to sleep, his lips covered hers again, tenderly and affectionately, as if he could never get enough of her.

"Then Zhizhi can just focus on sleeping..."

He chuckled softly, picked her up horizontally, held her steadily in his arms, and turned to walk towards the bed.

"I will carry you to the bed."

"If I'm in charge of sleeping, then what is Master in charge of...?"

"Naturally... I'll teach Oriori more sword techniques."

Moonlight silently streamed in through the window, illuminating the robes scattered on the ground.

The courtyard was completely silent, with tassels falling softly like the gentle heartbeat of the boundless night.

The flower spikes rustled softly as they touched, layer upon layer, like the night turning the pages of a book that could never be finished.

The petals were as thin as butterfly wings in the moonlight, as if they would shatter at the slightest touch.

It unfolded tremblingly, its heart still bearing the dew that had not yet dried, holding the colors of spring for an entire season, finally pouring them all out in this one night.

The moonlight slowly, inch by inch, peeked into the gauze curtains, and then it saw.

Silver and jet-black hair spread out on the pillow, and clasped hands and intertwined fingertips resembled a knot in their hearts, entangled inch by inch.

A fish that had hesitated for a long time in the lake, lingering throughout the spring, was finally embraced by the tide on this night with the brightest moonlight.

The moonlight was hazy and enchanting, a scene straight out of a painting.

In the next bedroom, Yun Boyan was lying quietly on the couch.

His hands were folded in front of his abdomen, his posture as neat as a jade statue enshrined before a Buddha.

Her long, silvery-white hair was spread out on the pillow, each strand lying quietly, like silk formed from moonlight.

But his eyes were open.

Those silver-gray eyes were clear and sleepless, staring straight at the canopy above their heads.

I can't concentrate on anything.

His fairy butterfly was not by his side.

His brother said he had fed him dew, and he didn't think much of it at the time.

By the time he realized something was wrong, the fairy butterfly had already been trapped somewhere.

Just as he couldn't find any excuse to leave this couch at this moment.

The drug was introduced through the tea.

It is colorless and tasteless, with only a very faint sweetness when tasted.

As he drank, he thought that the tea his brother brewed today was sweeter than usual, probably because he used a different spring water.

He only realized what was happening when his limbs began to feel heavy.

That sweetness wasn't from mountain spring water, it was from medicine.

His elder brother drugged him.

His elder brother, the aloof and otherworldly Kunlun sword immortal, used a sleeping potion on him.

Unfortunately, the medicine's effects were limited, and even without the Spirit Butterfly's antidote, he still woke up.

I had to wake up at this time of year.

Yun Boyan closed his eyes, then opened them again.

He could sense what was happening in the room not far away.

It wasn't something heard with the ears, nor seen with the eyes; it was something clearer than his own heartbeat.

Through that invisible thread that had connected him and his brother since birth, it flowed over little by little.

Like a warm tide, it surged from afar, washing over his fingertips and soaking his stiff, inescapable limbs and bones.

He suddenly remembered what his elder brother had said a long time ago.

"Ayan, you cultivate the path of ruthlessness. Do not let your heart be moved, do not let your thoughts wander."

At that time, he answered very decisively: "Brother, rest assured, my Daoist heart is as still as the snow in Kunlun."

The snow is still.

But snow will melt.

If only the spring breeze would linger a little longer.

He was startled by his own thought.

The thought came too quickly, as fast as a sword flash across the water; by the time he tried to stop it, it had already sunk into the water.

The moonlight revealed a slight curve at the corner of his lips.

"It's just drugging, right? I can do that too."

He closed his eyes after he finished speaking.

He gently placed his hand on his chest, as if pressing down on another heartbeat, like a thousand butterflies about to fly out of his chest.

Outside the window, the fringe flowers fell again, bathed in moonlight, as white as a snow that had just begun.