After Being Certified by the Immortal Lord on the Path of Ruthlessness - Chapter 54

Unaware of the state of her own face, Jiang Mianhao paused her movements, her question caught in her throat.

 

The usually aloof and indifferent immortal lord seemed to come alive with that smile.

 

The warmth in her golden eyes was like sunlight, gradually melting the frost that had long accumulated between her brows.

 

The contrast between a smiling Lu Jiu and her usual reserved demeanor was striking; the immortal lord, who normally kept others at a distance, now revealed a touch of childlike innocence.

 

Beneath the long-accumulated frost, a young girl had quietly slipped out.

 

Seeing the smile on the other’s face, Jiang Mianhao, though unsure why, couldn’t help but curl her lips in return.

 

The once quiet and dim room brightened with their shared laughter.

 

Realizing her lapse in composure, Ye Qingge cleared her throat lightly, suppressing the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

 

But the “little painted cat” before her leaned in closer. “Don’t frown, Lu Jiu. You look beautiful when you smile.”

 

Ye Qingge found it hard to suppress a laugh but ultimately restrained herself, keeping her expression neutral.

 

Jiang Mianhao noticed the subtle change in her face and felt an inexplicable pang of heartache. “Lu Jiu, don’t hold back your smile.”

 

The person before her had restrained her emotions to the extreme not only had the smile vanished from her lips, but even the light in her eyes had dimmed.

 

The playful, mischievous girl from moments ago seemed like nothing more than a fleeting illusion.

 

“So, smile again!” Jiang Mianhao pressed down gently on the scroll in Lu Jiu’s hand and boldly leaned forward.

 

The desk wasn’t high, and the two were already sitting cross-legged, facing each other.

 

By now, Jiang Mianhao had leaned halfway across, tilting her head to meet Lu Jiu’s gaze.

 

Ye Qingge looked into those clear, lucid eyes and felt herself falling, helplessly.

 

Just as she unconsciously curved the corners of her lips, a warning echoed sharply in her mind.

 

“The Divine Maiden should not harbor joy or anger,” a muffled voice intoned from beyond the alchemy furnace. “Nor should she entertain emotions, compassion, pity, or the childish whims of youth. To bear great responsibilities, one must forsake trivial affections.”

 

The crackling flames erupted in her ears once more.

 

The encroaching warnings, the long-dormant inner demons. They coiled around her again.

 

A burning pain spread across the skin hidden beneath her sleeves.

 

Tiny sparks ignited, growing into fierce flames, until—

 

Her lips met with a sudden pressure.

 

Ye Qingge looked up in surprise. Those jade-green lakes were right before her eyes. No, it felt as if she had already fallen into them.

 

The admonishing voice, the consuming flames, all receded in an instant. The pain that had yet to fully manifest vanished without a trace, leaving only the intoxicating closeness between them.

 

Everything came to a halt because of that kiss.

 

Jiang Mianhao puffed out her cheeks, blinked, and nuzzled against her affectionately.

 

Lips brushed against lips, cheeks rubbed against cheeks.

 

It felt less like a kiss and more like two young creatures comforting each other.

 

The softness on her lips gently withdrew, leaving her cheek lightly pressed.

 

The brief kiss had begun abruptly and ended just as suddenly.

 

Ye Qingge, sensing the subtle changes the kiss had stirred in her body, raised a hand in disbelief and touched her lips.

 

The inner demons that had tormented her for centuries were dispelled so effortlessly.

 

All it had taken was the fleeting, dragonfly-light touch of Jiang Mianhao’s lips.

 

Having accomplished this, Jiang Mianhao sat back down. But before she could speak, her gaze fell upon Lu Jiu’s cheek.

 

She quickly raised her hand to touch her own face, staring at the traces of black ink on her fingertips.

 

Jiang Mianhao finally realized the source of Lu Jiu’s earlier smile and feigned indignation. “Oh, Lu Jiu! You were actually laughing at me!”

 

A flicker of amusement appeared in Ye Qingge’s eyes as she observed the ink smudges on her face.

 

“I’m going to draw on you too!” Jiang Mianhao exclaimed, dipping her fingertip in ink and gently dabbing it on Lu Jiu’s nose. “I’ll turn you into Sister Jiang’s little puppy!”

 

The dark dot stood out sharply against the pale skin, and even the usual cool, distant gaze in her eyes softened for the moment.

 

Jiang Mianhao couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out again to smear ink on her cheeks.

 

But her wrist was suddenly caught.

 

“Misbehaving,” Ye Qingge said, pretending to frown, and snapped her fingers lightly.

 

In an instant, a Binding Immortal Rope coiled around Jiang Mianhao’s wrist.

 

“Hey, hey, hey! You—you—you!” With her hands bound above her head by the rope, Jiang Mianhao squirmed as Ye Qingge flicked her fingers teasingly.

 

In the next moment, the Binding Immortal Rope pressed Jiang Mianhao firmly against the writing desk.

 

The scattered memorials beneath her were crushed, paper and ink smearing in all directions. Ye Qingge clicked her tongue, eyeing the ink stains on Jiang Mianhao’s cheeks.

 

A stream of water materialized in the air, splashing directly onto Jiang Mianhao’s face.

 

The cold water hit her unprepared, leaving her sputtering in protest, unable to dodge.

 

Once her face was clean and fair again, Ye Qingge picked up the brush resting nearby and murmured softly, “You’re getting bolder and bolder.”

 

The wolf-hair brush traced lightly over her cheek, tickling Jiang Mianhao.

 

Bound tightly by the rope and unable to move, Jiang Mianhao could only plead, “Alright, Lu Jiu, I was wrong. I won’t dare do it again.”

 

“Let’s settle this score first,” Ye Qingge said with mock seriousness, carefully painting delicate little cat whiskers across Jiang Mianhao’s cheeks.

“Stingy Lu Jiu!” Jiang Mianhao struggled relentlessly. “You’re cheating! If you’ve got the guts, let me tie you up!”

 

Ye Qingge responded with a dismissive hum. “Hmm, we’ll talk when you’re capable of that.”

 

Jiang Mianhao, normally the first to rush to dinner, was unusually absent tonight.

 

Ling Lan, carrying a plate of food prepared by Jiang Yuanjuan, gently knocked on the door. “Mianhao? Are you in there?”

 

Hearing the knock, Jiang Mianhao shifted her resentful gaze away from Lu Jiu and snorted.

 

“I’m here, Lanlan,” she replied softly. “What’s up?”

 

Ling Lan asked with concern, “Why didn’t you come to eat? Are you feeling unwell?”

 

Since becoming Feng Mingyi’s disciple, Ling Lan no longer limited her sword practice to the early mornings.

 

The sword she had acquired on the mountainside that day fit her perfectly, as if it had been tailor-made for her.

 

Yet the events of that night still lingered in her mind, feeling strange and unresolved.

 

She had meticulously searched through the pile of corpses afterward, but there was no trace of Fu Wanyin.

 

It was as if the Ling Lan hairpin from that night had been nothing more than a trick of her eyes.

 

Yet when Ling Lan reached the mountaintop, she discovered that the sword which had flown straight toward her had followed her every step.

 

The moment her fingertips brushed the hilt, a flash of light danced along the blade, forming what seemed like a silent contract.

 

From that moment on, the sword remained faithfully by Ling Lan’s side.

 

With a weapon of her own and guidance from Feng Mingyi, Ling Lan threw herself entirely into her training.

 

Her natural aptitude was remarkable, and her diligence brought rapid progress but still, she was not satisfied.

 

Every day, apart from eating and sleeping, she devoted herself wholly to rigorous cultivation.

 

She was determined to grow stronger quickly and fulfill her promise.

 

More importantly, only by immersing herself entirely in cultivation could she avoid staring at Lu Jiu with envious eyes.

 

When Jiang Yunmian told her that Jiang Mianhao and Lu Jiu were growing increasingly close, Ling Lan offered a bitter smile. Every time she witnessed Jiang Mianhao’s affection toward Lu Jiu, she felt like a stray puppy peering longingly into a warm home. Gradually, Ling Lan devoted herself more and more to cultivation, and her spiritual power grew steadily. She buried her deepest desires deep within, hoping that one day she could bring them into the light again.

 

“I’m not uncomfortable, Lanlan,” Jiang Mianhao said softly. “I’m just… not very hungry.”

 

Ling Lan frowned, puzzled. “Are you really not feeling unwell? Lady Jiang had someone make your favorite molten egg tarts and roasted sweet potatoes.”

 

Roasted sweet potatoes! Jiang Mianhao bit her lip and glared at the person before her.

 

Ye Qingge, still indifferent, remarked, “If you want to eat, just open the door. I’m not stopping you.”

 

“Hmph, you stingy thing! If you have the guts, wash my face clean!” Jiang Mianhao gritted her teeth, her tone filled with mock indignation and anger.

 

All Jiang Mianhao had done was dab a little ink on Lu Jiu’s nose. In return, she had been restrained with an immortal-binding rope and had her entire face meticulously painted. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Jiang Mianhao’s cheeks burned with fury and embarrassment. What had begun as two smudges of black ink had now been carefully transformed into three perfectly symmetrical whiskers. To make matters worse, that wretched Lu Jiu had infused the water with spiritual energy. The harder she tried to wash it off, the darker the ink became, and the whisker shapes stubbornly refused to fade.

 

The flustered “little kitten” Jiang Mianhao was far too embarrassed to appear in public and had even skipped dinner.

 

“Mianhao?” A gentle knock came at the door, followed by Ling Lan’s patient voice. “You should eat a little. You always get hungry in the middle of the night. If you don’t eat now, you’ll definitely be starving later. Eating too late will burden your stomach.”

 

Tempted, but still too embarrassed to open the door, Jiang Mianhao replied softly, “Thank you, Lanlan, but it’s really not necessary. You should go eat quickly! You must be exhausted after practicing swordplay all day.”

 

“Don’t worry about me,” she added, glaring at the person before her and gritting her teeth. “If I get hungry tonight, I’ll just find something to gnaw on.”

 

Ye Qingge, unfazed by the threat, continued calmly reviewing the documents in her hand as if nothing had happened.

 

“Alright,” Ling Lan conceded, seeing her persuasion had failed. “Then I’ll ask Lady Jiang to have the kitchen keep the food warm for you. If you get hungry later, you can go eat, okay?”

“Okay!” Jiang Mianhao hummed, her voice softening into sweetness. “You’re the best, Lanlan.”

 

Ling Lan chuckled, shaking her head. “I’ll go have these kept warm then. Don’t wait too long to eat.”

 

“Mhm, mhm! Thank you, Lanlan!”

 

With that, the person outside the door walked away, leaving the room in silence once more.

 

Jiang Mianhao slammed her hands on the table, grinding her teeth. “Stinky Lu Jiu! Hurry up and wash my face clean!”

 

Ye Qingge hummed in response, setting down the documents. She narrowed her golden eyes, studying the mischievous little face before her, and shook her head. “I won’t.”

 

“You’re despicable!” Jiang Mianhao clenched her jaw. “You leave me no choice.”

 

Without warning, she lunged forward, pinning the unprepared immortal lord beneath her. Her face pressed against Lu Jiu’s, rubbing back and forth with playful insistence.

 

“You be a little cat too… you be a little cat too,” Jiang Mianhao mumbled, clinging tightly. Her cheeks flushed, growing warmer with every brush of contact, and the room seemed to shrink around the two of them in a world of laughter, warmth, and teasing intimacy.

Ye Qingge let her press and rub without resistance, quietly noting how much the angry little person in her arms now resembled a tiny, indignant kitten.

 

Exhausted from the struggle, Jiang Mianhao finally collapsed onto Ye Qingge’s chest and sighed softly. “You bully, always picking on me.”

 

“Hm? In our current situation, who exactly is bullying whom?” Ye Qingge murmured, her golden eyes glinting with faint amusement as she looked at the figure pressed against her.

 

Their bodies remained tightly entwined. Jiang Mianhao, utterly worn out, rested her head on Lu Jiu’s neck.

 

For a long moment, neither moved. Jiang Mianhao’s light weight and the warmth of her body had a calming effect, stabilizing the turbulent spiritual energy within Ye Qingge.

 

The lingering inner demons that had tormented her earlier seemed to have completely vanished. Even when she had been teasing Jiang Mianhao, no flicker of warning or restraint disturbed her anymore.

 

Sensing the soft, steady rhythm of the person in her arms, Ye Qingge lowered her head to look down.

 

Jiang Mianhao had quietly fallen asleep, her lashes brushing her cheeks, lips slightly parted, and body completely relaxed.

 

A faint smile curved Ye Qingge’s lips. She shifted slightly to make herself more comfortable, wrapping Jiang Mianhao gently in her arms. Outside, the rain continued its steady rhythm, a soft lullaby for the two of them, cocooned together in warmth and silence.

 

Ye Qingge leaned closer, carefully dabbing at the faint traces of ink on Jiang Mianhao’s cheeks. The warm water cooled slightly as it touched her skin, but Jiang Mianhao didn’t stir, still wrapped in the lingering warmth of sleep.

 

“Morning,” Ye Qingge murmured softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

 

Jiang Mianhao’s eyes fluttered open slowly, confusion giving way to recognition. She blinked up at the familiar golden gaze before her, a faint yawn escaping her lips. “Mm… Lu Jiu?”

 

“You slept longer than usual,” Ye Qingge replied, her voice calm but tinged with fondness. “The whiskers need cleaning.”

 

Jiang Mianhao sat up, stretching languidly, the corners of her mouth tugging into a sleepy smile. “Oh! those again…” Her gaze fell on the handkerchief, and she giggled softly. “You’re so meticulous.”

 

“Someone has to keep you in line,” Ye Qingge said, her lips curving ever so slightly. She lightly pressed the handkerchief against the soft pink of Jiang Mianhao’s cheek, careful not to startle her.

 

The quiet room was filled with the sound of gentle breathing, faint splashes from the handkerchief, and the occasional soft chuckle from Ye Qingge. Outside, the rain had finally eased, leaving behind a cool, fresh breeze that drifted through the slightly opened window.

 

Jiang Mianhao leaned closer instinctively, letting her cheek brush against Ye Qingge’s hand as she murmured, “You always take care of me.”

 

Ye Qingge’s heart softened at the words, the golden light in her eyes warm and steady. “Of course. That’s what I’m here for.”

 

For a long moment, the two remained like that—close, quiet, and content. Before Jiang Mianhao finally wriggled free to grab the embroidered pouch she had left on the desk.

 

“You made this?” Ye Qingge asked, raising an eyebrow as she took the small, carefully stitched pouch in her hands.

 

Jiang Mianhao nodded, cheeks tinged with a shy flush. “I wanted to give it to you yesterday, but I forgot.”

 

Ye Qingge’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, her gaze lingering on the careful stitches and the little colorful pattern. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly, tucking it into her robe. “Just like the person who made it.”

 

Jiang Mianhao’s eyes sparkled, and without thinking, she leaned forward and pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to Ye Qingge’s cheek. “I’m glad you like it.”

 

Ye Qingge didn’t push her away. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, letting the warmth of the morning and the closeness of Jiang Mianhao sink in. The playful and mischievous energy from the previous day had settled into something softer, gentler—an unspoken bond that both of them felt, even without words.

 

The bright spiritual energy sphere dissipated, and in the dim yellow lamplight, Ye Qingge tenderly wiped away the marks on the face of the person in her arms.

 

After finishing with the face, she replaced the handkerchief with a fresh one and gently wiped Jiang Mianhao’s body.

 

Once done, she carefully tucked the person into bed.

 

Ye Qingge sighed, stood up, and returned to the desk to continue reviewing the memorials.

 

Outside the tightly closed doors and windows, the wind began to howl.

 

Snowflakes as large as goose feathers fell silently in the dark night.

 

The snow continued all night, blanketing the entire Huashan Mountain.

 

When Jiang Mianhao opened the door the next day, she was stunned by the sight.

 

A snowball flew from afar and landed with a soft thud at her feet.

“Mianhao!” Ling Lan stood in the snow, as if she had been waiting for a long time. She raised a snowball high in her hand and exclaimed excitedly, “It’s snowing!”