Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Testing Feelings (Part 1)

“Gu Cang Yue said you two are dating?” Zhuang Yu Heng asked, unable to help himself. “What does ‘dating’ mean?”

They stood at the gate of Cang Yue’s residence. Zhuang Yu Heng was there to see them off, but Gu Cang Yue’s casual declaration had ignited pure curiosity.

Song Wei Chen’s face went hot with fury. This bird immortal really was telling the whole world.

It was only because these ancient people didn’t understand what dating meant—otherwise, White Robe Venerable and the Lord of the River of Oblivion, two “great masters” in everyone’s eyes… dating?

That was absolutely forbidden content.

Zhuang Yu Heng kept staring at her, waiting. Cornered, Song Wei Chen had no choice but to improvise.

“Well, dating is…” she said slowly, then launched into nonsense with deadly seriousness. “It’s like defending a thesis, you know? Like—spaghetti should be mixed with No. 42 rebar concrete! Because the length of the screw affects the torque of artificial intelligence, you understand? When you hammer it in, it produces a massive amount of high-energy protein, commonly known as a UFO, and the severity can cause nuclear contamination to a charger…”

A flock of birds—some crow-like thing—flew overhead at that exact moment, as if the heavens themselves were reacting.

Song Wei Chen silently thanked the Crouching Dragon and Young Phoenix she’d once seen in short videos, and also thanked her own good memory. Without them, she wouldn’t have been able to make something up this fast.

She finished with a stern face. “That’s clear enough, right? I broke it down into crumbs. Next time, don’t ask me again.”

Zhuang Yu Heng opened his mouth, then closed it. In the end, he nodded. “Yes. Crumbs.”

He patted Mo Ting Feng’s shoulder with a look that said, Brother, take care of yourself, then smiled warmly at Song Wei Chen. Even with doubts about her origins, he still liked her. “Wei Wei, if you have time, come find Brother Yu Heng to play.”

Only after she agreed did he transform and leave.

—

Once Zhuang Yu Heng was gone, only the two of them remained. The air cooled like water left out overnight.

Song Wei Chen kicked at a stone, head down, her jaw tight with stubborn silence.

They weren’t close to begin with. And after what happened—after she’d been hurt so badly—he was half the cause.

If not for the fact that he was her boss, and she couldn’t use spells to fly herself back to the Dust Warden Office, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him.

Mo Ting Feng summoned his flying sword and held out a hand. “Come here.”

She stepped onto the sword—but refused to take his hand.

He glanced at her, said nothing, and withdrew it. The sword rose into the air, steadier and gentler than last time.

They crossed over the River of Oblivion again. It was deep night; below them, the black water looked like a demon’s abyssal maw. Her throat went dry as she swallowed hard.

Last time, right here, he’d deliberately let go of her from high altitude. If Gu Cang Yue hadn’t arrived in time, she would’ve died.

Remembering it made her angrier. She shifted away from him on instinct—then forgot they were balancing on a sword. The moment she moved, the blade wobbled. She yelped, lost her balance, and tipped toward empty air.

Mo Ting Feng caught her instantly.

To keep her from slipping again, he simply lifted her into his arms, holding her in a princess carry against his chest.

The position dragged up a memory from the Marrow-Cleansing Hall—something he’d said, quiet and reluctant: You’re important to me.

Her cheeks warmed. Her heartbeat stumbled.

Noticing the heat in her face, Mo Ting Feng frowned, concern flashing across his features. “Why does your face feel so hot?”

Both hands were occupied. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, checking. “Not hot. Do you feel unwell anywhere?”

He paused, voice lowering. “Do you want to lean on me and sleep for a while?”

“N-no,” she stammered.

His sudden gentleness made her more unsettled than comforted. This ice block turning soft was downright scary.

He was guilty, she decided. About Moonwatch Tower. He just couldn’t bring himself to apologize like a normal person, so he was acting strange.

They fell silent again.

And yet the silence was different now—thick with something unspoken, hesitant, like a thread pulled taut between them.

—

Back at the Dust Warden Office, Mo Ting Feng didn’t bring her straight to Venerable Manor. Instead, he led her into a different courtyard within the office grounds: the Dining Hall. It was late, but the place was still open.

“You’re hungry?” Song Wei Chen asked, assuming he wanted a midnight meal and needed her company.

Mo Ting Feng hadn’t eaten here in a long time. With his cultivation, he didn’t need food at all.

But the image of Gu Cang Yue holding Song Wei Chen and saying she was thinner wouldn’t leave his mind. Neither would the memory of her collapsing outside the office hall from hunger.

He brought her into his private dining room.

The attendant hesitated, clearly startled. “Venerable… will you be dining with my lord?”

Mo Ting Feng had never eaten with anyone. Not once. No wonder the attendant asked.

“From now on, we’ll eat together,” Mo Ting Feng said.

He glanced at Song Wei Chen. “If you have any foods you avoid, tell them. They won’t prepare them anymore.”

“I don’t have any,” Song Wei Chen said. She nearly added that she didn’t have an appetite either, but swallowed it. Eating with your boss meant nobody cared how you felt.

The attendant acknowledged quickly and withdrew to prepare the dishes.

Once they were alone, the awkwardness returned. Song Wei Chen picked up her teacup and drank as if the water could shield her.

“You’re really dating Gu Cang Yue?” Mo Ting Feng asked at last.

She nearly choked. “What? No.”

“You were calling it dating at his gate,” he said, eyes fixed on her.

“I wasn’t dating him. I just said I don’t oppose getting to know him. We can try to understand each other.”

“More contact. Deeper understanding.” His voice was too even. “How is that not dating?”

“Dating means kissing and hugging and lifting each other up, alright?” Song Wei Chen blurted, then immediately regretted it. She tried to laugh it off. “If ‘getting to know each other’ counts as dating, then aren’t we dating right now?”

Mo Ting Feng froze.

At that exact moment, the attendant came in to lay out the dishes. Mo Ting Feng swallowed whatever he’d been about to say, his expression turning subtly unreadable.

When the attendant left, the room felt even more charged—like a room right after someone drops a word they shouldn’t have.

Song Wei Chen stared at the floor, mortified.

“What are you looking for?” Mo Ting Feng asked.

“A crack in the ground,” she muttered. “So I can crawl into it.”

Something like amusement flickered at the corner of his mouth, quickly suppressed. He placed food into her bowl.

“Eat.”

She forced a nod, picked up her cup again out of pure habit, then realized what she was doing and wanted to die on the spot.

“Boss,” she said fast, “I really wasn’t thinking. Don’t take what I said seriously—”

Mo Ting Feng paused, then looked at her sideways, as if asking something casual.

“Do you want to date me?”