Shen Tinglan held her teacup, her left hand secretly forming a hand seal. Three invisible protective arrays spread out soundlessly, isolating all noise around the banquet hall.
The spiritual energy within Shen Qingci's body completed three great cycles. As it ran its ninth orbit, her bottleneck broke with a resounding boom.
A wisp of clear qi rose from her dantian, rushing straight to her crown, and her meridians widened by half a fraction at the exact same moment.
The ninth level of Qi Refining.
She exhaled a breath of turbid air. Before she could even open her eyes, a sharp sword cry echoed from the window lattice.
Frostchill squeezed through the half-open window. Its hilt nudged past the gauze curtains as it rushed in front of Shen Qingci, spinning right against her sleeve. Its sword cries were high and sharp, and its icy patterns flickered on and off, looking as aggrieved as if it had been forgotten out in the rain.
Shen Qingci looked down and flicked the hilt with her finger. “Senior Sister, you forgot your Frostchill out in the courtyard.”
Chi Yuan felt a rare wave of guilt.
Earlier in the courtyard, she had maintained her expression, her posture, and the calm composure expected of a senior sister.
Even when the two elders caught her little junior sister leaning in her embrace, her ears had only flushed slightly.
But she had forgotten Frostchill.
A natal sword was a sword cultivator's most vital possession, closer than one's own limbs. Yet she hadn't thought of it once from start to finish.
Because her mind had been completely occupied by other things.
As for what those things were, she didn't even dare to dwell on them.
Chi Yuan reached out and formed a sword seal. Frostchill struggled a few times in her palm, but before its cry could even escape, it was wrapped in a flash of white light and forcibly dragged back into her dantian.
She threw it, sheath and all, into the deepest corner of her storage ring.
The action was swift and clean, completed in one smooth motion.
Shen Nanxing's hand, which was holding the wine jar, froze mid-air as he stared in a daze. Having roamed the Southern Region for hundreds of years, he had met at least eight to ten thousand sword cultivators. Forgetting one's natal sword was the kind of thing that would make the entire cultivation world die of laughter if word got out.
He looked at Chi Yuan, then at his own family's Eldest Young Lady, and the scale in his heart tipped even further toward “betrothal gifts.”
Shen Tinglan gently nudged the tea froth with her cup lid, her gaze lingering for a moment on the faint blush that still remained on Chi Yuan's ears. As she set down her teacup, her expression was casual. “To even forget your natal sword... It seems Fairy Chi's mind was occupied by much more important matters.”
Chi Yuan raised her wine cup and downed a gulp, the faint blush spreading down to her neck at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Shen Tinglan nudged the tea froth again. “A'Ci, when you were breaking through just now, your senior sister protected you with great care. Her spiritual energy probed so thoroughly, not leaving out a single spot from your Governor Vessel to your Conception Vessel.”
“Such attentiveness is not something ordinary fellow disciples would do.”
Beneath the table, Shen Qingci squeezed her senior sister's palm. Chi Yuan's hand stiffened for a moment, but she didn't pull away. Shen Qingci squeezed again, even more gently this time, her fingertip tracing a light circle on the back of Chi Yuan's hand.
“Aunt,” Shen Qingci said, looking at Shen Tinglan with an open and candid expression. “Senior Sister has always taken good care of me.”
“I can see that.”
“To care so much that she even forgot her natal sword... She has indeed gone to great lengths!”
Hearing this, Chi Yuan raised her wine cup again and took another large gulp. As the strong liquor slid down her throat, it finally suppressed the heat on her face.
Only then did Shen Nanxing snap out of it. He slapped the table and stood up, his voice so loud that the warm jade on the walls of the banquet hall hummed. “Come, come, come, let's drink! Since this is Fairy Chi's first time here, we won't stop until we're drunk today!”
He broke the wax seal, and a rich, mellow aroma of wine instantly drifted out. Just a single sniff of this eight-hundred-year-old Jade Dew Brew was enough to make the spiritual energy in one's meridians surge.
Shen Nanxing personally poured a full cup for Chi Yuan, then filled one for himself. Raising his cup, he said, “Fairy Chi, as the Eldest Young Lady's senior sister, you are one of us. I shall drink first to show my respect.”
He tilted his head back and emptied the cup in one go.
Chi Yuan also raised her cup and drank it all down.
As the liquor entered her throat, a wave of warm spiritual energy dissolved in her stomach and surged toward her Purple Mansion in a comforting wave.
Her tolerance for alcohol had always been decent. Years ago, when she accompanied her master to the Eastern Sea, she had matched a rogue cultivator drink for drink through three jars of strong liquor. In the end, the rogue cultivator crawled under the table, while she remained sitting perfectly straight.
But the eight-hundred-year-old Jade Dew Brew was not something a local Eastern Sea brew could compare to. After three cups, the spiritual energy in her dantian began to run wild, completely out of control.
Her face didn't flush, her gaze didn't wander, and her posture remained as upright as a pine tree, but from her neck to the tips of her ears, she had already burned a light crimson.
Shen Nanxing was overjoyed and filled her cup again. “Excellent tolerance! Again!”
The fourth cup, the fifth cup, the sixth cup.
Shen Qingci counted from the side. By the seventh cup, Chi Yuan's movement in setting down her cup was half a beat too slow, her fingers lingering on the rim for an extra breath before letting go.
Shen Nanxing was about to break the seal on the second jar.
Shen Qingci stood up and pressed her hand over the seal. “Clan Uncle, that's enough.”
Shen Nanxing was startled. Meeting the Eldest Young Lady's resentful gaze, he instantly understood something. Setting down the wine jar, he cleared his throat. “Right, right, right, we'll drink more tomorrow.”
Immediately, a voice transmission slipped into Shen Qingci's sea of consciousness: “The guest room has long been prepared. It's the innermost room of the east wing in the inner courtyard. The restriction jade token is on the table, and it comes with a spiritual spring bath. Eldest Young Lady, seize the opportunity!”
Without changing her expression, Shen Qingci bent down to support Chi Yuan's arm. “Senior Sister, you are drunk. Let me help you to your room to rest.”
“I am not drunk,” Chi Yuan said resolutely. Her posture was upright, and her eyes were clear. If her ears hadn't been red enough to bleed, she might have actually been somewhat convincing.
“Yes, yes, yes, you're not drunk,” Shen Qingci humored the drunkard. “It's just that I wanted to accompany you for a walk to help digest our meal.”
Only then did Chi Yuan stand up.
She stood steadily, and her steps were firm, looking exactly as she did when she normally rode her sword.
But Shen Qingci knew she was drunk.
Her senior sister was usually extremely self-restrained and would never actively hold someone's hand in public.
Shen Qingci bid farewell to the two elders and supported Chi Yuan out of the banquet hall. Shen Tinglan held her teacup, watching their figures disappear at the end of the corridor before turning her head to glance at Shen Nanxing.
“Which guest room did you prepare?”
“The innermost one in the east wing, the one with the spiritual spring bath~” Shen Nanxing leaned closer to claim credit. “Every single item was chosen from the very best. Even the bed curtains are woven from cloud-silk.”
Shen Tinglan nodded, the smile on her lips full of deep meaning. “Oh, you certainly put some thought into it.”
“Naturally. The Eldest Young Lady's matters are my matters.” Shen Nanxing had barely finished half his boast when a sudden chill ran down his spine.
He slowly turned his head, meeting his boss's half-smiling gaze.
“You deliberately arranged a room with a bath and even got her drunk. What exactly are you plotting?”
“I...” Shen Nanxing swallowed hard. “I just wanted to make things more comfortable for the Eldest Young Lady.”
“Is that so?”
Shen Tinglan stood up and walked over to him.
Shen Nanxing was half a head taller than her, yet at this moment, he wished he could shrink and squeeze into the cracks between the floor tiles.
“Seventeenth!” Shen Tinglan patted his shoulder, each pat carrying the pressure of a late-stage Soul Transformation cultivator. “If you ever dare to ply someone with wine so eagerly again, come find me at the sparring grounds.”
Shen Nanxing's shoulders slumped. “Yes, Ancestor Tinglan.”
Out in the courtyard corridor, the wind swept past, bringing with it the fresh scent of parasol trees.
Shen Qingci supported Chi Yuan as they walked very slowly. Her senior sister's faint scent of wine, mixed with her usual crisp, snowy aroma, drifted into her nose wave after wave, carried by the evening breeze.
“Senior Sister, you're really not drunk?” Shen Qingci tilted her head to look at her.
“No~”
“It's just some eight-hundred-year-old Jade Dew Brew.”
“Pfft, anyone below the Golden Core stage would definitely collapse after three cups,” Shen Qingci exposed her mercilessly. “This wine is the bane of body cultivators, and even those at the Nascent Soul stage can't handle ten cups. You drank seven.”
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