Moonlit Whispers and Chilling Intent

The moonlight, like molten silver, spilled into the quiet courtyard, casting an ethereal, hazy brilliance over the bluestone-paved ground.

They sat opposite each other in silence, the tea mist curling gracefully in the cool air, yet distinctly separating them with an invisible boundary.

Ye Jinghuang lowered her gaze, her fingertips registering the warmth emanating from the white porcelain teacup, finding this moment so precious it made her heart throb.

After everything she had done, even merely sitting silently face-to-face like this felt like an unattainable luxury.

She even found herself absurdly wishing the clear tea in her hands would transform into the legendary Fountain of Youth, flowing ceaselessly, so this moment could stretch on without end, allowing her to remain quietly by his side.

Just as the profound stillness threatened to solidify into something tangible, a faint whimper echoed from inside the side room.

Both turned their heads simultaneously.

On the bed, Lin Xiaoxiao’s eyelashes fluttered, betraying signs of stirring awake.

Her fingers unconsciously curled, gripping the cotton quilt covering her, and her brows furrowed faintly, as if troubled by something in her dream.

A muffled syllable escaped her lips, faint as a mosquito’s buzz, yet faintly discernible as—

“Master…”

The side room’s door remained ajar, concealing Lin Xiaoxiao from direct sight.

Yet this unconscious murmur clearly reached both their ears, like a small stone cast into a still lake, instantly rippling through the hearts of the two people in the courtyard, stirring different emotions.

Ye Jinghuang’s fingers tightened slightly around the teacup, her gaze instinctively darting towards Mo Tingbei.

Mo Tingbei’s movement of holding the teacup paused, his eyes, seen through the curling steam, growing somewhat inscrutable.

Just at this delicate moment, a clear, cool voice drifted from beyond the courtyard gate, shattering the brief silence.

“Senior Brother certainly has a refined taste.”

The moonlight seemed to abruptly freeze, an invisible chill permeating the air, piercing deeper into one’s bones than the sharpest autumn dew.

Jiang Jinyue stood before the silently open courtyard gate, her spiritual aura and oppressive presence almost entirely reined in, yet her plain white Daoist robe still seemed to absorb all the clear moonlight, rendering her like a divine statue carved from ice.

Her icy blue eyes swept coolly over the two in the courtyard, finally settling on Mo Tingbei’s teacup, which was paused at his lips.

Her gaze was silent, yet it inexplicably made the tea mist on the stone table curl with a hint of restraint.

Ye Jinghuang almost instinctively wanted to stand up, her fingertips whitening slightly from the exertion, but in the end, she only straightened her posture further, like a young bamboo bracing against a biting wind.

She lowered her eyelashes, staring at the few tea leaves bobbing and sinking in her cup, as if they bore the most profound runes in the world.

However, Jiang Jinyue did not make any aggressive moves as Ye Jinghuang had anticipated.

Mo Tingbei’s fingers moved almost imperceptibly, and the rim of his cup gently lowered, touching the stone table with an extremely faint clink.

“Yue’er has arrived,” he said, his voice steady and devoid of any discernible ripple, as if it were merely a casual greeting. “The night is already deep; why aren’t you resting?”

Since Foundation Establishment, cultivators do not strictly require sleep for rest, instead relying on various soul-nourishing techniques.

However, after reaching the Golden Core stage, according to ancient texts, one becomes intimately connected with the Dao, thereby transcending ordinary principles and acting as one pleases.

Mo Tingbei’s greeting was merely a force of habit.

Perhaps the courageous kiss from not long ago had made Jiang Jinyue somewhat less resistant to others’ proximity to Mo Tingbei; her current reply surprisingly lacked the veiled sharpness of her previous tone.

Her ice-sculpted, jade-like face wore an indifferent expression; she merely gave a slight nod, her voice clear and crisp like shattering jade.

“I had a sudden whim, so I came to see,” she stated. “Is Senior Brother perhaps not welcoming me?”

The courtyard beneath the moonlight seemed to have its ‘pause’ button pressed by that quiet question.

The tea mist hung motionless in mid-air, and even the wind seemed to have detoured around them.

Mo Tingbei couldn’t shake the strong sense of déjà vu from this confrontational scene.

Inside the side room, Lin Xiaoxiao murmured unconsciously again, more clearly than before: “Master… cold…”

This faint plea was like a needle, gently piercing the frozen air in the courtyard.

Mo Tingbei put down his teacup, his movement to stand fluid and natural, as if he were merely going to refill a cup of fresh tea.

“I’ll go check,” he told Jiang Jinyue, his tone as calm as if stating an ordinary matter, as if the preceding moment of stillness had never existed.

Ye Jinghuang watched his back as he walked towards the side room, her fingers unconsciously stroking the cool ceramic of her cup.

She should have felt a pang of bitterness, or perhaps the sting of being overlooked—after all, just moments ago, this time had been exclusively hers.

Yet, strangely, as she watched him push open that door and step inside, what surged within her heart was an indescribable… tremor.

Imagining how he might lean over to check on another woman’s condition, imagining he might reach out to wipe away the faint sweat from her brow—the scene made her throat tighten, yet it was not entirely from pain.

Jiang Jinyue did not follow him in.

She slowly walked to the stone table and sat down in the seat opposite Ye Jinghuang.

Her movements were elegant and composed, carrying an almost indifferent air.

She did not look at Ye Jinghuang; instead, she picked up the white porcelain teacup Mo Tingbei had just used, her fingertips gently tracing the faint water marks left on its rim.

“He’s very good at taking care of people, isn’t he?” Jiang Jinyue suddenly spoke, her voice clear and cool, like the gentle chime of a jade chime. “Whether the other person genuinely needs it, or has ulterior motives.”

Ye Jinghuang’s heart leaped violently, threatening to burst from her throat.

She forced herself to meet Jiang Jinyue’s gaze.

On that face, eight or nine tenths similar to her own, there was no mockery, no disdain, only a bottomless tranquility that seemed to pierce one’s very soul.

“What do you mean by that, Martial Aunt?”

Ye Jinghuang heard her own voice sound somewhat dry, carrying a barely perceptible tremor.

She tried to maintain the composure befitting a supreme ruler of a nation, yet found that before her elder sister, all her pretenses were, as always, as thin as paper.

Even if this wasn’t the elder sister from her memories.

Jiang Jinyue did not reply directly.

Her fingertips slowly traced circles on the cup’s rim, but her gaze remained fixed on Ye Jinghuang.

“The water of the Sword Cleansing Pond is very cold,” she began.

“Colder than the ten-thousand-year profound ice of the Northern Abyss. It can freeze spiritual energy, corrode the soul, amplifying all one’s senses to their extreme.”

“At the same time, you will be stripped of all connection to the outside world. There, you can only feel your own heartbeat, over and over, maddeningly slow.”

She leaned slightly forward, her voice dropped even lower, like a devil’s whisper, yet delivered in the calmest, most unruffled tone: “You’ll like that feeling.”

Ye Jinghuang’s breathing abruptly hitched.

She felt a chill rise from her spine, but it was not fear.

Rather, she suddenly discovered that, in response to Jiang Jinyue’s words, an uncontrollable anticipation had truly risen within her.

The corner of Jiang Jinyue’s mouth curled into a smile, but it was chillingly cold.

Suddenly, the subtle sound of a door opening and closing echoed.

Jiang Jinyue’s smile vanished in an instant.

“How is she?” she asked.

“Still shaken, plagued by nightmares. She will be fine after tonight.”

Mo Tingbei replied, his expression serene.