After My Paranoid Act to Woo My Cold Master Failed - Chapter 39

Fu Xueke held her disciple’s face. In her palms, a wave of heat pulsed, only to turn freezing cold a moment later. This alternating temperature seemed to interrogate her own heart: she was the one who had turned the girl into this.

The girl stared at her with reddened eyes, her tear-soaked lashes trembling like a fledgling bird caught in a storm, wanting to fly but unable to lift its wings. This sight stirred those hidden thoughts in Fu Xueke once more; aside from heartache, a darker impulse arose. She wanted to see the girl with eyes that red, calling her name in a broken, sobbing voice.

As soon as the thought appeared, Fu Xueke was horrified. Had her mind truly become so shameless?

“Don’t cry anymore. Please, don’t cry,” Fu Xueke released her face and used her sleeve to gently wipe away the dampness.

Shen Shuheng lowered her head, avoiding the sleeve. She had come to a realization: she would bear the bitter fruit of this unrequited love alone. She must not implicate her Master or make things difficult for her.

Shuheng messy wiped her face with her own sleeve and looked back up at Fu Xueke. A smile as bright as spring returned to her face, though it clashed painfully with her swollen eyes.

“The oranges were too sour. Master must give me sweeter ones next time.”

Fu Xueke nodded. “I won’t give you such bitter ones again. Next time, I’ll give you the sweetest.”

“It’s good that you’ve stopped crying… very good,” Fu Xueke heard her own words and mocked herself inwardly for her growing hypocrisy.

The Request

Shuheng tugged at Fu Xueke’s sleeve, her eyes curving into crescents. “Master must keep her word.”

“Naturally. When have I ever failed to do what I promised you?”

“Regarding practicing under the waterfall in Moon-Cold Valley—let me go now. The Great Sect Tournament starts in a month, and A-Heng needs to train hard so I don’t embarrass Master.”

Fu Xueke smiled. “But does your body still ache? Why not rest for a few days? I only wish for you to be safe.”

“It doesn’t hurt! Really!” To prove it, Shuheng hopped and skipped in front of Fu Xueke. “See? I’m perfectly fine.”

Fu Xueke knew Shuheng usually looked for any excuse to stay close or get “benefits” like having her Master dress her. Today, however, the girl was being uncharacteristically proactive and obedient, asking for nothing in return. Instead of relief, Fu Xueke felt a hollow sense of loss.

“Do you love sword practice that much? Do you have no other requests?”

Shuheng looked at her, puzzled. “A sword cultivator should practice the sword, shouldn’t they? What other requests would I have?” After the recent travels, she realized how weak she was. Seeing her Master injured had ignited a desperate desire to become strong—stronger than her Master, so she could protect her from everything.

“It’s nothing. Follow me.”

Fu Xueke reached out her hand, intending to lead her as she always did. Shuheng stared at the slender fingers, hesitating for a second before placing her soft palm into her Master’s.

“Master, when will my hand be large enough to completely cover yours?” Shuheng’s eyes danced with light. “I want to be even taller than Master! That way, I can be someone you rely on, just as I relied on you when I was little.”

“Master is my most respected elder!” Shuheng added, using the title to hide the romantic love she couldn’t speak.

Fu Xueke’s eyelashes cast a shadow over her eyes. Respected elder? I am hardly worthy of that. She felt her inner self rotting away, filled with the sweet, cloying scent of desire that tempted her to fall into the abyss.

“Master, about that ‘request’… can I make one now?” Shuheng asked cautiously.

“You may.”

“Can Master have dinner with me tonight? And please, make some dishes you like. You don’t have to only make what I love.”

Something I like? Fu Xueke realized no one had ever asked her that. Before taking in Shuheng, she lived solely on Inedia pills. She had only learned to cook for the sake of the small child she found in the valley.

“Master, what did you think of the osmanthus cakes we had?” Shuheng asked. “A-Heng will learn to make them for you!”

The Waterfall and the Orange Tree

They reached the waterfall of Moon-Cold Valley. The sound of plummeting water crashed against the rocks.

“Master, will you stay and practice with me, or are you going back?” Shuheng asked expectantly.

“I have matters to attend to today. I will join you next time,” Fu Xueke replied.

Shuheng waved her off with a smile. “Alright! See you later, Master!”

Fu Xueke watched the girl’s white-clad figure until it disappeared into the snowy woods. But she didn’t actually leave. She hid behind a large tree, watching. She saw Shuheng’s smile instantly collapse into a heavy, sorrowful expression the moment she thought she was alone.

Fu Xueke’s heart twisted with pain. Is it because of what I said? She pressed her hand against the rough bark of the tree until her fingertips turned white and transparent. She gripped the tree so hard that the bark cut into her skin, and drops of warm blood fell onto the snow like crimson plum blossoms. Her eyes filled with tears, her cold facade melting into the vulnerability of a person trapped by seven emotions and six desires.

Suddenly, she remembered something. She turned and hurried away.

A Thousand Sour Deaths

On the other side of the peak, Fu Xueke stood before a green orange tree, her hands moving in a constant blur of spells.

A pale green light enveloped the tree. White buds bloomed and fell; small, dark green fruits appeared, grew, and turned yellow. Fu Xueke picked an orange, peeled it, and put a segment in her mouth. The sour juice exploded. She forced herself to swallow it.

She thought of A-Heng, who had eaten every single sour orange she had given her earlier, stubbornly insisting they weren’t sour. Fu Xueke felt a sharp, cutting pain in her chest. That child… she’s been a fool since she was little.

Fu Xueke hated sour things. Yet, she continued to peel and eat the oranges, one by one, segment by segment, with a calm expression even as her teeth felt weak from the acidity. She had given Shuheng five oranges earlier; she would eat five now to match her.

After the fifth, she cast the spell again. She wanted the tree to produce sweet oranges for A-Heng.

Round after round, she grew the fruit, tasted it, found it sour, and finished the entire orange regardless. She didn’t know how many dozens of sour oranges she had consumed. Finally, she peeled a segment that was purely, wonderfully sweet.

Her eyes curved into a brilliant smile that made the snowy landscape seem dim. She placed the sweet oranges in her storage bag and hurried to the kitchen. She had spent too much time here, and Shuheng would be coming home for dinner soon.

She prepared the meal and waited. The sky grew dark, the stars began to appear, but there was no sign of her disciple.

An ominous feeling surged in Fu Xueke’s heart. She abandoned the table and rushed back toward the freezing mists of Moon-Cold Valley.