5/10

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

When Wen Jue left the Thousand Machinery Divine Sect, his mood remained deeply complicated.

Though he claimed aloud that even if Shisi was the first summoned, it posed no threat to him, his heart still felt hollow.

He had been that ‘special one’ for so many years.

Should he be angry?

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He was long past the age of vying for favor with his fellow disciples.

Taking a step back, perhaps Qin Zhou had other reasons for summoning Shisi first…

Maybe it was because Shisi was frail… Ever since the beginning, the Village Chief had always been the first to notice when villagers were unwell.

Though this ability seemed strange, it was undeniably true.

Wen Jue lowered his gaze.

It all depended on whether he could take those ten thousand steps back.

One step back, and the more he thought about it, the angrier he grew.

Ten thousand steps back…

Wen Jue clenched his fists.

His divine essence flew recklessly toward the lower realm once more.

But upon reaching the village entrance, Wen Jue halted again.

Should he describe this feeling as “approaching home with trepidation”?

Hesitating, Wen Jue felt a flicker of fear at the thought of pushing open that courtyard gate. His tall, slender frame stood rooted to the spot like a bamboo stalk. The gate at the village entrance seemed to mark the dividing line between the past and present, spanning thousands of years.

Inside, the person he longed to see was clearly waiting.

But…

Wen Jue faltered.

He raised his hand, then lowered it again.

In the village chief’s mind, Wen Jue was still Lu Yi.

Among the village apprentices, he wasn’t the oldest, but he possessed the highest talent. Holding a sword, clad in white robes, standing among the crowd—that was undoubtedly Lu Yi, the radiant and noble figure who commanded everyone’s attention.

Even if sent to cultivate at the Immortal Sect, Lu Yi could effortlessly become the top disciple of the Cangyun Sword Sect.

Lu Yi, who would never bring shame upon him.

Wen Jue lowered his gaze.

It would have been better not to be certain that Qin Zhou was the village chief. Perhaps then, he wouldn’t be paralyzed by these complex emotions, unable even to open the courtyard gate.

The ginkgo tree by the gate swayed again, its golden leaves beginning to fall once more.

Spring passed, autumn came—truly, he had lost track of the years.

Wen Jue sighed.

Just then, a soft creak sounded as someone pushed the door open from the inside.

Wen Jue snapped his head up.

Qin Zhou stood before him, hand braced against the doorframe, asking, “What are you doing out here?”

In that instant, it felt as if even the wind had stopped. Not even the leaf that fell onto his sleeve registered with Wen Jue.

Qin Zhou opened the door for him.

It felt like a doorway connecting thousands of years apart. The fire within him reignited, attempting to burn away all hesitation.

Facing Qin Zhou’s question, Wen Jue lifted his head and murmured to himself, “Just… admiring the view for a moment.”

Qin Zhou: ?

Oh.

Qin Zhou closed the door behind him and turned to leave.

“…” Wen Jue stared at the door that had shut once more, feeling an overwhelming urge to kill someone.

Enough. Sentimentality should know its limits.

This man was a complete, hopelessly insensitive jerk.

Approaching, he found the door hadn’t closed completely, leaving a small crack—as if deliberately left open for someone.

Wen Jue took a deep breath, only to have a sweet fragrance suddenly invade his nostrils.

The sweetness drifted from the courtyard, mingling with the clean scent of medicinal herbs to form an extraordinarily unique aroma.

This was…

A familiar sweetness, yet Wen Jue couldn’t immediately recall where he’d smelled it before.

Stepping into the courtyard, Qin Zhou sat at a small wooden table, fiddling with something.

On the table lay some familiar small wooden sticks, a pot of boiled syrup, and numerous pills, each refined to the size of a glutinous rice ball.

Wen Jue recognized them instantly and couldn’t help but ask in surprise, “Did your pill business go under? Are you heading to the city to set up a stall selling candied hawthorn?”

“…” Qin Zhou froze mid-motion, his hand still suspended over the sugar coating for the hawthorn.

Sometimes Wen Jue’s words were utterly devoid of any charm.

“I brought back some honey when we fought the Nine-Sting Queen,” Qin Zhou explained. The honey from the Nine-Sting Queen wasn’t ordinary honey; it was essentially a type of spirit nectar. However, it was scarce, and the cost of obtaining it was prohibitively high, making it a rare ingredient.

“Nine-Sting Queen? The one afraid of Dry Stone Grass poison smoke?” Wen Jue froze, finally understanding the origin of that familiar sweetness.

As the strongest fighter in the small mountain village, he’d often accompanied the village chief on expeditions during his youth—though mostly to gather alchemical ingredients in the wild.

The Nine-Sting Queen had left a profound impression on Wen Jue. Even now, hearing its name instantly recalled that scene.

Back then, Wen Jue was in the late Foundation Establishment stage. To aid his breakthrough, the village chief set his sights on the legendary Golden Core spirit beast, the Nine-Sting Queen.

Nine-Bee Stings were essential ingredients for breakthrough pills.

Acquiring the Nine-Sting Needles went smoothly—after all, something like dry stone grass was practically worthless to the wealthy village chief.

But after obtaining the needles, an unexpected turn of events unfolded.

Though they had clearly left the Nine-Sting Queen’s territory, the Queen Bee still caught up to them. Having awakened, the Queen Bee fell into a frenzied rage and charged straight at him.

Though Wen Jue was only at the late Foundation Establishment stage, he possessed the strength to fight opponents several levels above him, even those at the Golden Core stage. At the time, he wielded a weapon personally forged by the village chief, and his armor was an absolutely formidable spirit artifact.

Yet against the berserk Golden Core-stage Nine-Sting Queen, he still couldn’t prevail. Each time he found himself on the brink of death, he’d open his eyes feeling refreshed and alert. The village chief would be studying the Nine-Sting Queen’s patterns nearby, while he’d regroup and fight again… That was the gist of it. Wen Jue couldn’t quite recall the details anymore.

He only recalled that the battle against the Nine-Sting Queen had indeed lasted an exceptionally long time. Ultimately, they discovered the frenzied Nine-Sting Queen’s weakness lay between its eyes.

They had won in the end, though he had sustained significant injuries. He recuperated in the village for a considerable period.

To reward him, the village chief used honey from the Nine-Sting Beasts to coat a sugar-coated hawthorn fruit for him.

“What kind of sugar-coated hawthorn berries are these? They look so strange.” Pale-faced Lu Yi stared at the treat the village chief offered, hesitating whether to eat it.

He did enjoy sugar-coated hawthorn berries, but the ones before him seemed odd no matter how he looked at them.

The outer shell was a golden-yellow sugar coating, unevenly applied. Inside was a dark, murky substance… a medicinal pill, perhaps? A pungent medicinal scent mingled with sweetness assaulted his nose.

It bore no resemblance to the sugar-coated hawthorn berries the village chief usually gave him.

The village chief swore, “It’s delicious.”

“You promise?”

“Mhm.”

But when Lu Yi took a bite, his face scrunched up. “Village Chief, do elixirs have to be this bitter?”

“If an elixir were sweet, it would be called a candy pill, not medicine.”

“…”

At that moment, Lu Yi couldn’t argue.

Yet from that day onward, every elixir the village chief concocted for him was, without exception, sweet.

Now, seeing those sugar-coated hawthorn berries made with Nine-Sting Queen honey again, his taste buds seemed to recall that bittersweet flavor from back then.

“Weren’t you supposed to be searching for elixir ingredients to break through to Foundation Establishment? Why did you go hunt the Nine-Sting Queen instead?”

Wen Jue pulled up a stool and sat down, watching Qin Zhou skillfully coat the candy. Holding the thin wooden stick between his palms, he gave it a gentle twist, causing the sugar coating to stretch into delicate threads.

After all these years apart, had he been practicing his candy-coating technique? Coating candy and making it stretch like that.

“They practically delivered themselves. Figured the breakthrough pills for the Golden Core stage might come in handy someday, so I took them all at once.” Qin Zhou handed him the finished sugar-coated hawthorn berries.

Wen Jue took them without hesitation.

The moment he bit into one, a wave of sweetness flooded his mouth.

The honey from the Nine-Sting Beasts was sweet without cloying—truly a premium sweet treat.

Qin Zhou remembered to bring him candy while searching for alchemical ingredients—Wen Jue was pleased. But before he could swallow, he froze. Glancing at Qin Zhou staring at him, he unconsciously slowed his chewing.

“You… you can make sugar-coated hawthorn berries yourself… Ha ha…” Wen Jue asked with a dry chuckle.

Qin Zhou nodded. “Back then, there were little ones at home who loved them.”

Wen Jue: !

Who the hell is he calling little ones?!

“You have little ones at home…” Wen Jue asked tentatively.

“Yes.” Qin Zhou nodded. “Many of them.”

Wen Jue twirled the stick of candied fruit in his fingers, glancing at him as if by accident. “Then which one… is your favorite?”

Qin Zhou looked at him, a faint smile playing on his lips. “The one who loves candied fruit the most.”

Wen Jue shot to his feet, flustered: “Ha ha.”

“Delicious.” Wen Jue buried his head in eating. The one who loved sugar-coated hawthorn berries the most had turned into a demon! Wen Jue lamented inwardly.

“Mm.” Qin Zhou silently coated the remaining berries in sugar glaze.

Once all the honey-coated hawthorn berries were strung, the task was finally complete.

Qin Zhou wrapped all the finished sugar-coated hawthorn berries in wax paper and tucked them into his Cosmos Bag.

“Why are you packing them up?” Wen Jue asked, chewing the crisp sugar coating. Weren’t these for him?

“Seven days to pay, didn’t you say so?”

Before Wen Jue could respond, Qin Zhou added, “Too much sugar isn’t good. I’ll keep them here for now.”

His tone was perfectly calm, yet it gradually overlapped with the memory of that faceless figure.

The village chief’s voice was always micromanaging him.

Wen Jue clutched the sugar-coated hawthorn in his hand, momentarily speechless.

Qin Zhou’s identity had long been obvious. He’d always used flimsy excuses to argue against it—because he was afraid.

Afraid that when he met this person again, he wouldn’t know how to face him.

What frightened Wen Jue even more was…

He had rehearsed it tens of thousands of times in his mind: if he returned, he would choke him hard, lock him up if necessary… make him suffer a little, then slam the hairpin down before him and demand where he’d been all these years.

He should even demand: Why summon the Shisi but not him…

Yet now, just a string of candied hawthorn berries, a fragment of memory, a single “little one”—and he was overjoyed.

Utterly pathetic.

Wen Jue’s silence cut off Qin Zhou’s words.

“As long as it tastes good. I need to prepare for alchemy.” Qin Zhou gathered his things, stood up, and headed toward the room.

With the Foundation Establishment Pill nearly complete and the Nine-Sting Needle now in hand, he considered brewing the breakthrough pill for the Golden Core stage, too—it would be needed sooner or later.

“Go ahead.” Wen Jue bit down fiercely on the sugar-coated hawthorn in his hand, pulling a long thread of syrup. He stared at Qin Zhou, chewing with such intensity it seemed he wanted to chew him to pieces.

Not being the first was one thing. He’d just wait and see when this person would summon him.

He couldn’t possibly be the last!

A deep intensity burned in Wen Jue’s eyes. Until he summoned him, he would keep his gaze fixed on him!

 ━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Wen Jue’s piercing stare was blocked outside the door.

The box placed in the corner of the room stood out starkly.

Qin Zhou knew what that box contained.

A suit of armor with a hole cut out.

He’d discovered it not long after returning from the border, while organizing his belongings.

A palm-sized section had been cut from the armor’s midsection. A suit of armor missing its very center—anyone would have to take a second look.

And whoever had cut it out had quietly pushed the armor to the very bottom of the box.

Did they really think he wouldn’t look?

Qin Zhou sighed.

Especially since the missing section bore the sect’s emblem—the mark of the Thousand Machinery Divine Sect, where Shisi resided.

So Wen Jue had probably gone to find Shisi.

He had thought something different might happen upon his return.

He had even prepared candied hawthorn for the occasion.

But in the end, they still refused to acknowledge him.

Even after seeking out Shisi and confirming his identity, they still refused to acknowledge him.

Qin Zhou’s face remained expressionless, his eyes dark and heavy, like the stillness before a storm in a darkening night.