Chapter 4: Drawing the Line
This novel is translated and hosted on BCatranslation
At the base of Lone Moon Peak, a heavy, oppressive silence filled the air. All eyes were fixed on a slender figure standing boldly in front of them.
Breaking the tense silence, Yu Zhao stepped forward. “Junior Sister, during our sparring match the other day, I was too careless and forgot about your frail condition. I went all out and unintentionally hurt you. These past few days in the Black Prison, I’ve been haunted by guilt, especially thinking of how you fainted and coughed up blood.”
Her voice carried a dramatic tone, and her face was etched with deep remorse as if she truly regretted her actions. However, the expressions among the onlookers began to shift, turning increasingly confused. Many of them knew the real story behind that day’s events.
Ye Cong Xin had been the one who eagerly initiated the sparring match with Yu Zhao, keen to test her own skills. Initially, Yu Zhao declined, but after persistent coaxing from Ye Cong Xin and the encouraging cheers from the crowd, she reluctantly agreed.
One was the sole female disciple of Lone Moon Peak, the other the sect’s most adored junior sister. Their match quickly drew a large audience. Initially, the duel was evenly matched, but as it progressed, Ye Cong Xin’s attacks intensified, and Yu Zhao found herself struggling to keep pace.
Just when it seemed like Yu Zhao was on the brink of defeat, she unleashed her full strength, dealing a severe blow to Ye Cong Xin and turning the tide in her favor. Yu Zhao had always been considered average within the sect, so her sudden display of formidable power led many to suspect foul play. This was why many felt sympathy for Ye Cong Xin, believing Yu Zhao’s victory was tainted.
Now, as Yu Zhao spoke, the crowd began to reconsider their initial impressions, realizing it wasn’t so shocking after all that Ye Cong Xin could lose to someone of Yu Zhao’s caliber.
In that moment, Ye Cong Xin’s face flickered with discomfort as she scrutinized Yu Zhao.
Enemies often know each other best. Ye Cong Xin, having replaced Yu Zhao as the favored junior sister, had invested much effort into ingratiating herself with the sect’s members. She prided herself on understanding Yu Zhao better than anyone else.
Externally, Yu Zhao appeared tough and unyielding, but internally, she was fragile and insecure, akin to rootless duckweed, aimlessly drifting and dependent on others, desperate to curry favor and warmth from those around her.
To manipulate someone like Yu Zhao, you didn’t strike directly. You targeted those around her, gradually isolating her. Then, with just a gentle nudge, she would tumble into despair.
Ye Cong Xin had expected Yu Zhao to react predictably, but now, Yu Zhao was deviating from her usual pattern, unsettling Ye Cong Xin and making her feel as if her plans were unraveling.
“A mere apology isn’t enough, so I’ve decided to give this Purple Cloud Bamboo Flute to you, Junior Sister, as a token of my regret.” As she spoke, Yu Zhao revealed a purple bamboo flute, smooth and evidently well-cared-for, signifying its importance to her.
The crowd erupted into murmurs at the item, their eyes darting to Lan Zi Yu, who stood next to Ye Cong Xin.
In that moment, Lan Zi Yu’s usually playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a dark, ominous expression. His eyes bore into Yu Zhao with undisguised hostility. It was common knowledge within the Five Elements Sect that Lan Zi Yu had gifted the Purple Cloud Bamboo Flute to Yu Zhao when she first joined. She had always cherished it, reacting fiercely to anyone who dared to joke about it. Now, to offer it to Ye Cong Xin in such a public manner?
As the tension at the foot of Lone Moon Peak thickened, everyone’s gaze turned cautious with Lan Zi Yu presence – everyone could sense a big drama was about to unfold.
Fang Cheng Lang’s heart sank. He appreciated Yu Zhao’s willingness to admit her mistake, but he questioned her method. Having known Lan Zi Yu for many years, he was well aware of his possessive nature—Lan Zi Yu fiercely loved his treasures and hated to see them mishandled. The fact that Yu Zhao was offering the flute he had crafted—even to a junior sister—would surely provoke him. This could only spell trouble.
“Sixth Sister…” Fang Cheng Lang attempted to intervene, hoping to persuade Yu Zhao to reconsider her decision, but she didn’t allow him the opportunity.
“Second Brother, you gave me this Purple Cloud Bamboo Flute. Now, I wish to pass it to our junior sister. You don’t mind, do you?” Her gaze fixed firmly on Lan Zi Yu as she spoke with deliberate slowness.
This was no mere question; it was a clear provocation.
Lan Zi Yu’s breathing became labored, his eyes glinting with a cold, furious light. How dare Yu Zhao challenge him in such a manner!
Despite having faced Lan Zi Yu’s hostility before, Yu Zhao felt a familiar pang of pain as she recalled the past.
“Junior Sister, this is for you.”
“Wow, what a beautiful flute! And it’s purple! So pretty. Second Brother, is this really for me?”
“Of course, I crafted it myself. I polished each segment of bamboo personally. It’s unique in this world. If you lose it, you can no longer call yourself my junior sister.”
“I’ll cherish it! Even if I get lost, the flute won’t! Second Brother, could you teach me how to play it?”
“Hmph, that’s better. Give it here; I’ll show you.”
Yu Zhao inhaled deeply, pushing aside the painful memories. In her past life, she had hung on every word from Lan Zi Yu, valuing the Purple Cloud Bamboo Flute above all else.
But Lan Zi Yu had quickly turned hostile when Ye Cong Xin expressed interest in the flute. When Yu Zhao refused to surrender it, Lan Zi Yu had berated her cruelly, with one line etched deeply into her memory: “The thing I regret most is giving you the Purple Cloud Bamboo Flute because you don’t deserve it!”
To appease Ye Cong Xin later, Lan Zi Yu crafted an even more exquisite black bamboo flute for her and tricked Yu Zhao into relinquishing the original, only to destroy it before her eyes. Despite her pleas, Lan Zi Yu showed no mercy.
If she couldn’t keep it, it was better to part with it sooner rather than later.
“Ha! Of course, I don’t mind. It never truly belonged to you anyway. I was blind to give it to you in the first place.” Lan Zi Yu’s words came through gritted teeth.
“That’s wonderful.” Yu Zhao’s slight smile belied the gravity of the situation.
She approached Ye Cong Xin, offering her the flute with an expectant look. Ye Cong Xin felt the piercing intensity of Lan Zi Yu’s gaze, like a blade ready to strike. Hesitating, she timidly shook her head. “This… This was Second Brother’s gift to you. I can’t accept it.”
“Don’t worry. You heard him. He doesn’t mind,” Yu Zhao reassured, her smile lingering. “And it’s my gesture of goodwill. If you refuse, it would suggest you’re not ready to forgive me. That would truly sadden me.”
This novel is translated and hosted on BCatranslation
Caught between defiance and diplomacy, Ye Cong Xin weighed her options. Finally, she reached out and accepted the flute from Yu Zhao. “Thank you, Senior Sister. I accept your apology.”
A collective gasp rose from the crowd. Yu Zhao’s smile broadened, while Lan Zi Yu’s expression turned even darker. Lines had been drawn, deepening the rift between them.
Fang Cheng Lang stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on Yu Zhao’s shoulder. “That’s enough for today. Everyone, please disperse.”
As the crowd started to dissipate, buzzing with whispered conversations, Yu Zhao walked away with a complex mix of emotions, a strange satisfaction mingling with the reality of the irreversible steps she had taken. She had drawn her line, and there was no turning back now.