A few days later, the city at the foot of the mountain grew far livelier than usual.
The normally quiet stone-paved streets were hung with red lanterns everywhere. From dusk onward, groups of people had been pouring out of their homes, laughter and vendors’ calls mingling together until the entire city seemed to have awoken after many days of stillness.
Today was the Lantern Festival.
People said that as long as you wrote your wish on a lantern and let it fly high enough, your prayer would follow the wind to wherever you wanted it to go.
Ethan stood before the estate gates, watching the stream of people stretching along the street below, then glanced at QingLian beside him.
She had traded her usual white dress for a long, pale blue one. Her black hair was still tied neatly behind her back, no sword on her person, and none of the cold aura that kept others at a distance when she was up on the mountain.
If you didn’t know who she was, no one would think the woman standing before him was a powerhouse who could casually slash the cloud layer apart.
Ethan scratched his head.
"No training today?"
QingLian looked down at the street below. Lantern light reflected in her eyes, softening the usual coolness considerably.
"Training needs to be balanced with relaxation."
"That sentence coming from you is genuinely surprising."
"Why?"
"Because every time you’ve said ’let’s begin’ these past few days, I’ve felt like something bad was about to happen to me."
QingLian turned to look at him.
Ethan immediately gave a dry cough, pretending he’d never said anything.
A moment later, the corner of her mouth seemed to shift ever so slightly, but the smile appeared for only a flash before vanishing. If Ethan hadn’t been looking right at her, he might have thought he was seeing things.
"Let’s go."
QingLian stepped down the stone stairs first.
Ethan followed behind, deliberately keeping half a step’s distance. He didn’t know why he did it. Perhaps it was just that every time he stood too close to her, he unconsciously recalled the sword strike from that day, then felt that the serene face before him shouldn’t be stared at for too long.
But the harder he tried not to pay attention, the more easily his gaze was drawn toward her.
Passersby who spotted QingLian automatically moved to either side. Some bowed in greeting, others only dared steal glances from afar. A few young men walking with friends stood frozen at the roadside, their eyes unable to leave her.
QingLian paid none of those gazes any mind.
She simply walked forward, her pace neither fast nor slow, as though she truly were just strolling.
Ethan watched the scene and couldn’t help admitting something to himself.
QingLian was very beautiful.
Her beauty was in no way lesser than Laira’s. If Laira was like a scorching flame, instantly pulling every eye toward her the moment she appeared, then QingLian was like a quiet streak of light falling from the sky. She didn’t need to do anything, yet people instinctively felt they shouldn’t get too close, afraid that the dust of the mortal world might stain something that didn’t belong here.
Ethan quietly shifted his gaze to the stall beside them.
’Shouldn’t stare too much.’
Right then, QingLian glanced his way.
Their eyes met.
Ethan immediately turned to look at a mask hanging on a rack, his expression so serious it was as though he were studying some kind of S-rank item.
QingLian watched him for a few seconds, then looked away. Only, the tips of her ears had turned faintly red at some point.
The two continued walking.
Ethan suddenly stopped in front of a small vendor’s stand.
The cloth was covered with handmade accessories: bracelets, hairpins, hair ties, none of which held any value for an Awakened. Yet among those simple trinkets, he spotted a silver hairpin.
Its design was very plain, with only a small lotus carved at the tail end. No gemstones, no energy fluctuations, but the craftsmanship was just refined enough.
Ethan looked at the hairpin for a while.
He felt it suited QingLian perfectly.
Not because it was precious, but because its clean, gentle simplicity reminded him of her.
After hesitating for a few seconds, Ethan still reached out and bought it.
The vendor took the credit points, grinning ear to ear, and placed the hairpin in his palm. Ethan held the small item and suddenly had no idea what to do next.
Give it to her?
Or pretend he’d never bought it?
He looked at the hairpin, then at QingLian’s silhouette standing not far away. With her status, this thing probably wasn’t even worth as much as a decorative piece in her storehouse. Just a few hundred credit points... would offering it be too strange?
The more Ethan thought about it, the hotter his ears burned.
Right as he was still looking down, wrestling with himself, a figure appeared before him.
He looked up.
QingLian had come back at some point.
The distance between them was close enough that Ethan could clearly see her long lashes, could even feel the warm breath carrying a very faint fragrance brushing against his face. For an instant, his mind went completely blank.
QingLian also froze.
It seemed only then did she realize she was standing too close. She retreated half a step, her gaze wavering slightly before quickly recovering its usual calm.
"Are you buying a gift for Laira?"
Ethan went rigid.
"No... it’s not."
He looked at the hairpin in his hand, then at QingLian. The more he tried to sound casual, the more unnatural his voice became.
"I just... thought it would suit you, so..."
The words trailed off there.
Ethan suddenly felt very foolish.
Who was QingLian? She could produce breakthrough resources at will, and a single sword strike could tear the clouds apart. Yet here he was holding a hairpin worth only a few hundred credit points, standing in the middle of the street and stammering like a teenager who’d never given anyone a gift before.
’What am I even doing?’
Ethan wanted to pull his hand back and pretend nothing had happened.
But QingLian held her hand out.
Ethan went blank.
She wasn’t looking directly at him, only pressing her lips together very lightly, her voice a touch lower than usual.
"Thank you."
Before Ethan could react, QingLian had already taken the hairpin from his hand.
She turned toward the small bronze mirror beside the vendor’s stand, lifted her black hair, and slid the pin into place. The silver lotus sat amid ink-dark hair, not the least bit ostentatious, yet so perfectly suited that Ethan stared for several seconds and forgot to speak.
QingLian tilted her head slightly.
"Does it look strange?"
Ethan shook his head immediately.
"No. It suits you perfectly."
Only after saying it did he realize how fast his answer had come.
QingLian fell silent.
Ethan fell silent too.
A light breeze passed through, making the lantern overhead sway gently. The two stood before the vendor’s stand, and the atmosphere suddenly became something words couldn’t quite capture.
In the end, QingLian turned away first.
"Let’s keep going."
"Yeah."
Ethan answered very quickly, then followed after her.
On the opposite side of the street, behind a pastry stall, three figures were trying their best to stay hidden.
Trying being the key word, because the results weren’t particularly good.
Ruo Yan and QingZhu pressed together could just barely conceal half their bodies behind a wooden sign. But Laira standing behind them was far too tall, her golden hair and striking frame almost entirely exposed.
What’s more, all three were far too beautiful.
Passersby turned their heads to look back more than a few times. Several young men gathered enough courage to approach, about to open their mouths and strike up conversation, when they noticed Laira staring straight ahead, her hand gripping the wooden post beside her.
Crack!
The post was crushed to splinters.
Wood fragments fell to the ground.
Those young men immediately went pale, fell silent, and backed away. Not one dared take another step forward.
Ruo Yan watched the scene, her voice as calm as ever.
"Does QingLian like Ethan?"
Laira whipped around, her red eyes blazing.
"What did you just say?"
Ruo Yan didn’t answer right away. Her gaze remained on QingLian, who was at that moment adjusting the silver hairpin in her hair.
"I was only asking."
QingZhu crouched behind the stall, both hands propping up her chin. Her eyes curved upward, her expression so delighted it looked as though she’d just witnessed something supremely entertaining.
"No idea." She said. "But I’m enjoying this."
"Enjoying what?" Laira ground her teeth.
"All of it."
Laira drew a deep breath, about to step out.
But she had barely lifted her foot before QingZhu reached out and grabbed the back of her collar, pulling her back as easily as picking up a large cat.
"Don’t ruin it for them."
"I’m not ruining anything." Laira struggled. "I just want to take a walk."
"A walk with that much killing intent?"
"I don’t have killing intent."
QingZhu glanced down at the wooden post that had just been crushed to pieces beside them.
Laira immediately shut her mouth.
Ruo Yan looked at her and sighed very softly.
"You’re jealous."
"I am not jealous!"
Laira answered too fast, so loud that several passersby nearby flinched and turned around. She immediately lowered her voice, both ears reddening from anger.
"I just feel... Ethan is too easy to trick."
QingZhu tilted her head.
"What exactly is QingLian tricking him into?"
Laira choked on her words.
Across the street, Ethan and QingLian had continued walking further ahead. They moved slowly, occasionally stopping before a small stall. Ethan didn’t say much, but every time QingLian looked at something a bit longer than usual, he unconsciously stopped too.
Laira watched the scene, her fist clenching tight.
Ruo Yan watched her for a while, then silently tugged at her sleeve.
"Don’t crush anything else."
"I’m not crushing anything."
"You just crushed a post."
"That post was weak."
QingZhu laughed.
Laira immediately glared at her.
By the time the sky had gone completely dark, the festival truly began.
Lanterns were distributed to the townspeople. Warm light gradually rose from every street, reflecting off the lake at the city’s front until the entire surface looked as though it had been blanketed with a layer of stars.
Ethan stood at the lakeside, holding the lantern he’d just finished writing his wish on.
QingLian stood beside him, also cradling a red lantern. She hadn’t written anything on hers, only watching silently as Ethan lit the flame.
"You didn’t write a wish?" Ethan asked.
"No."
"Then why did you come here?"
"To watch."
Ethan smiled lightly.
"That answer is very you."
QingLian didn’t argue.
Ethan lowered his head, and the small flame in his hand brightened. The lantern slowly filled with air, then floated free of his fingertips. It followed the wind upward, merging into countless other lights, gradually becoming a small dot in the night sky.
QingLian still held her own lantern.
She gazed up at Ethan’s lantern for a long time.
"You’re not letting yours go?" he asked.
QingLian shook her head.
"Not yet."
Ethan didn’t understand, but he didn’t press further.
The two stood side by side at the lake. The laughter and chatter around them was very loud, yet the space between them was strangely quiet. After a while, QingLian suddenly spoke.
"Do you still remember things from when you were little?"
Ethan paused slightly.
He hadn’t expected her to ask that.
A breeze skimmed the lake’s surface, carrying a thin chill. Ethan lowered his gaze to his own reflection in the water, was silent for a very long time, then scratched his head and gave a thin smile.
"Not much."
"Truly not?"
"The things I do remember..." He stopped for a moment. "Aren’t really worth holding onto."
Ethan’s voice was very soft, but QingLian still heard it clearly.
He remembered the cold house, remembered the indifferent eyes of the father who had discarded him as though he were something unnecessary. He remembered the stepmother’s traps, the words designed to create misunderstandings, and the younger brother who always knew exactly how to push him into positions where he couldn’t fight back.
His childhood memories held no lantern light.
No one standing beside him, asking if he wanted something to eat.
No one buying him a small gift simply because they felt it suited him.
Ethan breathed out, deliberately shifting his tone.
"Maybe I should’ve written a simpler wish. Something like never meeting those kinds of people again."
QingLian didn’t smile.
She only pressed her lips together, the fingers cradling her lantern slowly tightening.
"Ethan."
"Yeah?"
He turned.
QingLian looked at him, as though wanting to say something. But after a few seconds, she only shifted her gaze to the lanterns floating across the sky.
"It’s nothing."
Ethan looked at her, and didn’t ask further.
After a while, the two left the lakeside and walked toward the mountain path. Behind them, Laira, Ruo Yan, and QingZhu were still secretly trailing at a not-so-distant distance.
Laira watched Ethan and QingLian walking side by side, her expression still far from pleased.
Ruo Yan looked at her.
"How long are you going to follow them?"
"Until they go back."
"Why?"
"To make sure Ethan doesn’t get tricked."
QingZhu shook her head, her expression full of amusement.
"I’m starting to wonder whether you’d make it back in one piece if QingLian heard that."
Laira huffed and didn’t answer.
The next day, Ethan had just finished a round of training when QingLian appeared at his door.
She was carrying a food box.
Ethan was slightly surprised.
"You’re bringing more resources?"
"No."
QingLian set the box on the stone table.
"Food."
Ethan looked at the box, then at her.
"There are chefs here. Why go buy food from outside?"
QingLian stiffened for a moment.
The movement was very small. Without looking closely, it was nearly impossible to notice.
"I picked it up outside."
"Oh."
Ethan nodded and opened the lid.
Then the smile on his face gradually froze.
Inside were several buns of extremely bizarre shapes. Some were round but squashed as though they’d been crushed, some were green, and one was so black that Ethan suspected it had survived some kind of fierce battle before being placed in the box.
More importantly, in his Eye of Truth’s vision, thin wisps of dark energy were slowly rising from each bun.
At the very top, a bright red character appeared with perfect clarity.
[Death.]
The corner of Ethan’s mouth twitched.
He looked up at QingLian.
She stood there, her expression not changing much, only her gaze drifting slightly elsewhere.
"Did you really buy these outside?"
QingLian was silent for one second.
"Yes."
Ethan looked at her.
QingLian looked back at him, her expression so calm it was as though her words were completely without issue.
Behind her, outside the window, QingZhu was leading Laira and Ruo Yan in a covert observation. QingZhu was using every ounce of effort not to burst out laughing. Ruo Yan raised an eyebrow slightly, apparently also somewhat curious about how Ethan would handle this.
Only Laira was so furious her golden hair was practically standing on end.
"I can cook too." She said through gritted teeth.
QingZhu didn’t turn around, only raising her bamboo staff to tap lightly on Laira’s forehead.
"Quiet."
Laira clutched her forehead, glaring at her.
Inside the room, Ethan was still staring at the black bun before him.
He knew there was a problem with this.
He knew better than anyone.
But when he looked up and saw QingLian still standing quietly beside him, her expression held carefully neutral while her fingertips were lightly gripping the hem of her robe, Ethan suddenly couldn’t bring himself to refuse.
’It’s just a bun.’
He drew a deep breath, picked up the blackest one.
QingLian watched his movements, her gaze wavering slightly.
Ethan closed his eyes and took a bite.
A bizarre taste immediately flooded his mouth.
He opened his eyes, fighting to keep his expression steady.
"It’s... not bad."
The moment those words left his mouth, Ethan staggered a step.
QingLian froze.
Ethan raised a hand as though wanting to say something more, but his vision had already gone dark. He only caught a glimpse of QingLian’s face showing unmistakable panic for the very first time, then his entire body toppled straight forward.
QingLian caught him immediately.
The food box on the table trembled faintly.
In Ethan’s eyes as they slowly closed, that bright red character still drifted gently into view.
[Death.]
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