"Nothing to do at the moment—why not compose a poem?"

Chen Yi lightly tapped the blade of his sword. The sound it made was like music, the wind adding to the mood. He thought to recite a poem…

But he couldn't.

Instead, he only managed to embarrass himself a little…

He knocked on the scabbard again, clearing his throat, thinking to sing a song…

But there were too many people, and he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Out of options, Chen Yi patted his waist, contemplating drinking some wine to pass the time…

But his hands came up empty—he suddenly remembered he didn't even have a habit of drinking.

The night was deep, with the gentle radiance of the moon accompanying the cool breeze, blowing past the clamor and noise. Chen Yi just sat there blankly, unsure of what to do. He couldn't compose poetry or sing songs, leaving him with no option but to throw back his head and let out a loud howl in an act of childishness. But what if Lu Ying and Yin Weiyin saw him? They'd witness him yelling like a monkey and laugh themselves silly. That was out of the question.

His mind clear of idle thoughts, Chen Yi inexplicably began to wonder: If it were Min Ning, what would she do?

...…

The bitterly cold wind scraped over blood-soaked earth. A split signboard hung unevenly—one half perched high, the other stabbed into the ground. The characters at the front read "Evil," and the latter half read "Village." Amid the muddy, blood-stained ground, the dismembered head of a bandit lay with its lips slightly ajar, as if still muttering some secret code like "The Northwest Xuantian Chicken." Blood flowed from every corner, yet an eerie silence pervaded, broken only by the wind's whistle. A lone swordswoman deftly sheathed her blade, the friction between blade and scabbard producing a metallic rasp. Adjusting her conical hat, she looked up at the night sky painted with cold light. Stars glittered above; no evildoers remained below.

As the wind hissed past her ears, Min Ning glanced around and curiously asked:

"Why is there not a single villain left in Evil Village?"

No one responded.

The next moment, she suddenly threw her head back in laughter:

"Turns out Min the Great Hero killed them all!"

...…

A wisp of cold moonlight broke through the clouds, spilling into the alleyway. It illuminated the flagstones, making them glow with a frosty sheen as though layered with thin ice. A spiraling autumn wind swept past the hems of Taoist robes. In the distance, the faint sound of curfew bells and drumbeats echoed through the night. Two female Taoists walked one behind the other down the alleyway.

The one dressed in white, the female crown, bore the demeanor of overlooking the mortal realm, her gaze softly lowered in a detached air of serenity. Following behind her was the first disciple clad in sword armor, glancing left and right, curiously examining her surroundings.

"Is it around here?" Lu Ying asked.

"Indeed, the courtyard maintained by Taihua Mountain is just ahead. It's humble and plain, I hope you'll tolerate it," the female crown replied.

Lu Ying nodded thoughtfully, recalling Yin Weiyin's composure at Qingfeng Pavilion. A trace of admiration arose within her. She said, "Daoist Yin is truly a natural-born talent of the Dao. With just a few words, she calmed the crowd and clarified Lifeng Pavilion's web of intrigue. Even Jiangxin Daoist was full of praise."

When Qingfeng Pavilion was suddenly bathed in blood, the Daoists present were naturally struck with panic. Yet, the Taichua Goddess stepped in to stabilize the scene. With just a few sentences, she peeled back the dark secrets of Qingfeng Pavilion, earning widespread acclaim. It turned out that the Taichua Goddess, Yin Weiyin, had long seen through the bloody mysteries lurking there!

A series of scenes caused Lu Ying to marvel inwardly. Even though she had experienced it all firsthand, she knew she couldn't have remained so calm in the moment. Comparing herself to Yin Weiyin, she felt greatly inferior.

To Lu Ying's words, Yin Weiyin simply shook her head lightly and said, "A minor trick, not worth mentioning."

Lu Ying sighed privately once more.

After walking a few more steps, the cold moonlight was suddenly blocked. A long shadow stretched out ahead, cutting off the two women's path. Startled, Lu Ying's heart skipped. The dense night obscured the figure, making it impossible to discern their identity. Yin Weiyin halted abruptly, scanning the figure with an indifferent expression.

"May I ask where the two of you are headed? Might you grant me the convenience of lodging for the night?"

The voice was slow and deliberate, tinged with a teasing tone.

"I wondered what sort of fiend it might be,"

Yin Weiyin's face remained calm as she shook her head and said:

"Turns out it's just a pig."

Chen Yi's expression froze.

Recognizing who blocked their way, Lu Ying couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Chen Yi let out a sigh, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at Yin Weiyin on the spot. Having not seen her in half a year, surely it was time for some tender reunion?

Who would've thought Yin Weiyin would bypass him entirely, throwing over her shoulder only one line:

"Follow me."

Chen Yi squinted slightly, taking a deep breath.

Before long, the three of them arrived at a small courtyard. The residence was enclosed by high walls, with a signboard bearing the name "Xuan Residence." The "Xuan" did not refer to someone's surname—it simply indicated the property's ownership by Taihua Mountain, marking it as sect property. Upon their arrival, a maid promptly opened the gate. Since this courtyard wasn't in regular use, only a few women were left to maintain it.

Once inside, Yin Weiyin leisurely invited the two of them to sit, then ordered the servants to prepare the guest rooms. She then gracefully began preparing tea, her delicate movements filling the space with the rich fragrance of tea. From the way Yin Weiyin handled the tea, Lu Ying could tell her skills were exceptional—no less refined than her own. She sighed silently once more.

The Taichua Goddess personally preparing tea—Lu Ying naturally took the matter seriously. Sitting upright, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Chen Yi was lounging lazily in a chair, and a twinge of irritation rose within her. Even as husband and wife, they shouldn't be so casual in front of others.

In the presence of outsiders, they should at least appear respectful and courteous to each other.

As Lu Ying thought this, she accepted the cup of tea. Seeing that Yin Weiyin didn't criticize or reprimand Chen Yi for his posture, she was startled. Could it be that they weren't as harmonious a couple as they seemed?

Could it be, just as Chen Yi had once implied, that their marriage was merely arranged by their parents and matchmakers?

For some reason, Lu Ying recalled the tale he once shared of "The Return of the Condor Heroes." The more she thought about it, the more she realized—wasn't Yin Zhiping's story reflective not of herself, but of Yin Weiyin?

As this thought arose, Lu Ying rebuked herself inwardly for her wild imagination. How could she be so presumptuous?

Lu Ying, what use is there for such fanciful musings?

After they finished their tea, the curfew bells and drumbeats ceased, and the guest rooms were ready. Yin Weiyin stood to lead her to her accommodations. Lu Ying set down her cup and followed, but an inexplicable feeling of emptiness crept in again. The notion that Yin Zhiping represented not herself, but Yin Weiyin—that idea lingered.

Just a little…

Holding an oil lamp in her hand, Lu Ying closed the door to her chambers. She stood in a daze for a long while before finally blowing out the light.

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