Chapter 87: No More Talking
After sealing himself away in his chamber for an entire day and night, Chen Yan finally descended the stairs, his face ashen, his steps unsteady as if treading upon clouds. His legs trembled with each movement, betraying the ordeal he had endured.
From the grand hall, Gu Qing Yi, lounging before a glowing Magical Viewing Box, cast him a sidelong glance and frowned. “You—”
“Save it,” Chen Yan waved her off impatiently. “I’ve got unfinished business with an old schemer.”
Without another word, he strode toward the kitchen, retrieving a bamboo broom. He gave it a few practice swings, nodded in satisfaction, then grabbed the medicine pouch delivered by Chu Ke Qing and tucked it under his arm. Thus armed, he stormed toward his neighbor’s courtyard with righteous fury.
Just as he neared the entrance, the wooden gates creaked open. There, standing tall, was Old Deng, one hand carrying a spirit cage, the other clasped behind his back in leisure, his expression unreadable as he took in Chen Yan’s approach.
“Old Deng!” Chen Yan pointed his broom forward in an accusing stance. “Don’t even think about running!”
The elder remained rooted, calm as an unmoved mountain. As Chen Yan stormed up to him, Old Deng furrowed his brows and remarked, “Kid, you don’t look well.”
Chen Yan gritted his teeth. “You dare say that?! It’s because of your so-called ‘miraculous remedy’ that I spent the entire day locked in a duel with death itself! I barely survived the battlefield of the porcelain throne!”
Old Deng shook his head. “Impossible. My prescriptions are flawless.”
Feigning contemplation, he pointed toward the medicine pouch. “That’s what you took? Let me see.”
Chen Yan hesitated. Just as he was about to hand it over, he suddenly shook his head. “No. We do this inside your house! Out here, you might pull some trickery. And if you start causing a scene, an old man like you grabbing onto a young man like me? Who do you think people will believe?”
Old Deng chuckled. “Fine.”
Together, they stepped into Old Deng’s residence.
His courtyard was larger than Chen Yan’s, and as they entered, Chen Yan’s eyes widened. Crouched in a corner was a brown-furred spirit beast.
“What the—Old Deng! You’ve got a spirit monkey?!”
“Yeah. So?”
Chen Yan shook his head in disbelief. “Are you even allowed to keep that?”
Old Deng let out a cold chuckle. “Why, you planning to report me?”
Chen Yan smirked. “That depends. If you don’t give me a good explanation today, let’s see how long before the Beast Protection Sect comes knocking.”
Old Deng scoffed but led Chen Yan into the house.
Stepping inside, Chen Yan’s first thought was how much better the interior looked than his own. Unlike his own villa, which had retained a two-decade-old opulence—all gold-leaf carvings, grand crystal chandeliers, and a decor that straddled the awkward line between outdated luxury and foreign imitation—Old Deng’s house was a masterpiece of refined simplicity.
New-style elegant partitions stood in perfect balance, intricate carved screens separating spaces with a natural flow, all while allowing light to dance freely, breathing life into the halls.
Chen Yan scanned the room, and Old Deng sneered. “She’s not here.”
“Huh?”
“My granddaughter. Don’t waste your time looking.”
Chen Yan scoffed. “Tch, that’s not why I’m looking around! I was just admiring your decor.”
“Hmph.” Old Deng waved a hand dismissively. “Whatever. Now, let’s see the medicine.”
Chen Yan placed the pouch on the spiritwood table but immediately pulled out his Recording Jade and activated it. “I’m recording this. If you try any tricks, we’ll have proof.”
Old Deng sneered. “You young ones and your little devices. Fine, record away. My name is Lin Qing Quan, my hands are clean. I fear no shadow.”
He opened the medicine pouch, plucked a few strands of the herbs, and even popped one into his mouth to taste. Moments later, he met Chen Yan’s gaze and smirked. “Tell me, kid, where did you get this medicine? A common apothecary?”
Chen Yan frowned. “No. Why?”
Old Deng scoffed. “Ha! Why, you ask? Didn’t I tell you before? A single day’s dose should cost around three hundred spirit coins.”
“You did.”
“And this bag here? This? If you took it to the market, it would fetch no less than a thousand spirit coins!”
Chen Yan was silent.
Old Deng picked up another pinch of herbs, rolling them between his fingers. “For instance, these few strands—common stores sell them at two or three years old. But these? These are at least ten, twenty years matured! You understand what that means? The potency is leagues apart.”
Chen Yan furrowed his brows, deep in thought, but he did not argue. He wasn’t an unreasonable man. Old Deng’s words… made sense.
“Wait here.” Old Deng turned and disappeared upstairs. When he returned, he tossed a clear scroll case onto the table. “Look. My Physician’s License and Healer’s Certification.”
Chen Yan unrolled it. His eyes widened.
“It’s in… the Western script?”
Old Deng snorted. “Of course! I spent decades abroad. Practiced medicine across the seas. Every word here is real—you can verify it yourself.”
Chen Yan examined the documents. “Your name is… Lin—”
“Lin Qing Quan.” The old master retrieved a brush and penned his name across parchment, his strokes confident, bold. “Still don’t believe me? Fine. Take my prescription to any renowned healer, any great sect’s medical halls. Ask their head physicians to appraise it. Tell them it was prescribed by Lin Qing Quan. Let’s see if they dare call it flawed.”
The old man’s gaze carried unshakable confidence, his presence unwavering like a monolithic mountain. Chen Yan found his earlier anger dissipating, the urge to argue fading into uncertainty.
Perhaps… the old master truly knew what he was doing.
“You and I have no past grievances, no present enmity—why would I harm you? Harm you? What nonsense!” Lin Qing Quan flicked his sleeve, his gaze calm but resolute. “Besides, I live right next to you. This house? I spent over twenty million to purchase it! If I wished you harm, could I simply vanish without a trace? The monk may flee, but the temple remains.
And another thing!” He lifted his chin slightly, eyes narrowing. “I prescribed you medicine, free of charge. If I truly meant you ill, what could I possibly stand to gain?”
Chen Yan took a deep breath, considering his words. Finally, he said, “But after taking your medicine, I spent the entire day running to the latrine. Surely, that must have done some damage to my body?”
“No harm done.” Lin Qing Quan dismissed his concern with a wave of his hand. “Your foundation is strong. The medicine’s effects were merely intense, flushing out the excess fire pent up in your body. A day of inconvenience, but in return, your body has rid itself of much stagnant energy.
No lasting damage. Rest and eat light for the next few days, and you’ll be fine.
Hmm…” Lin Qing Quan stroked his beard. “You should continue taking the medicine.”
Chen Yan’s eyes twitched. “Continue?”
“Indeed. But given the potency of your batch, you may reduce the dosage. What was meant for a day, spread it over three.”
Chen Yan pocketed his phone. “Alright. I’ll trust you this once more.”
“Oh, and one more thing.” Lin Qing Quan shot him a glance. “There’s a particular caution you must heed while taking my medicine.”
Chen Yan frowned. “What is it?”
“Do not take life needlessly.”
Chen Yan blinked. “Huh?”
Lin Qing Quan chuckled lightly. “Your fire is too strong. The flames of your qi and the flames of your heart both burn fiercely. Killing, especially shedding fresh blood, will only feed this inner blaze. It is unwise for you.
Refrain from slaughter—be it poultry, livestock, or even fresh fish and shrimp. You may eat them, but let another do the killing.”
Chen Yan’s gaze turned strange. “Lin old man, are you a physician or a fortune teller? Talking about bloodshed and baleful energies—what kind of nonsense is this?”
Lin Qing Quan scoffed. “Believe or ignore, it matters not to me!” He waved dismissively. “Now, I have spoken my piece. Off with you! I was about to take a stroll with my birds, but now my mood is ruined. Be gone! I shall take a nap instead.”
Seeing that the old man was determined to send him away, Chen Yan could do nothing but leave, suspicion still lingering in his heart. Lin Qing Quan did not bother to see him out.
Once Chen Yan had departed, Lin Qing Quan let out a low hum, then turned and ascended the stairs.
“Foolish boy… I advised you to abstain from killing for your own sake.”
Taking the life of a Mountain Fiend was inconsequential, for such creatures were of this world.
But that white fox you slew—that was a creature from the Domain Realm. It was bound to the heavens of that world, its fate entwined with that distant celestial order. To slay a life of the Domain Realm is to entangle yourself in its karma. Do it too often… and trouble shall surely follow.
Lin Qing Quan entered a secluded chamber on the second floor.
The room was barren, save for a lone figure standing in the corner—a paper effigy, human-shaped.
Exquisite craftsmanship adorned its form, every stroke of its garments painted with impeccable precision. The features on its face, meticulously sculpted, bore an uncanny resemblance to—
the lively girl who had once called him Grandfather.
Lin Qing Quan’s eyes narrowed as he extended a finger, flicking a strand of vital energy into the paper effigy. At once, a faint glow shimmered over its surface, and within that light, it transformed into flesh and blood.
A girl opened her eyes, then joyfully bounced to Lin Qing Quan’s side, clutching his arm with a sweet smile. “Grandfather! What would you like to eat today? I can go buy groceries!”
Lin Qing Quan gazed at the girl, his expression filled with tenderness. A faint smile played upon his lips. “I have a craving for spiced sausages. Let us venture out together to buy some—a fine treat for the new year.”
“Oh! That sounds great!” The girl beamed. “Let’s also get some salted meat. We can steam them together. A perfect meal!”
Her cheerfulness was infectious, and Lin Qing Quan chuckled along. But within his eyes, a shadow of sorrow flickered ever so briefly.
Meanwhile, Chen Yan followed the old man’s prescription for another day. The reduced dosage lessened his affliction, though he still made seven or eight trips to the latrine.
By the second day, his symptoms eased further, reducing to merely three or five visits.
For three or four days, he chose to remain indoors, dedicating himself to the Vital Energy Circulation Method. Bored, he even practiced his Transformation Technique.
During this time, he suffered the wrath of his Honored Stepmother.
It was entirely his own fault—he had used his Transformation Technique to take the form of Gu Qing Yi, then leapt into the living room to startle her.
Unluckily, his Little Stepmother was engrossed in the Annual Comedy Tournament, enjoying a particularly amusing skit.
Chen Yan, in Gu Qing Yi’s visage, had declared: “I am your twin brother!”
And then…
She had seized him by the neck, pinned him to the ground, and pummeled him until his face was swollen.
During his days at home, Chen Yan had considered seeking out Lu Si Si. But the lingering effects of the medicine deterred him.
A date where one must constantly rush to the restroom? Unthinkable!
So instead, he simply exchanged messages with Lu Si Si via WeChat, sharing humorous videos and gossip. Unintentionally, their relationship warmed, an unspoken intimacy growing between them.
And so, the days passed in quiet routine—until the twenty-sixth day of the Twelfth Lunar Month.
That morning, the Hanfu Shop delivered a custom wedding gown, complete with an entire set of ceremonial attire.
Chen Yan took the package home and handed it to Gu Qing Yi.
She retreated to her room, donning the red wedding robes in solitude, standing before her mirror in silent contemplation.
The girl within the mirror—clad in crimson, resplendent, yet hauntingly distant—held her gaze for a long moment.
Then, with a faint sigh, she turned away, changed back into her usual attire, and carefully repackaged the gown.
Descending the stairs, she found Chen Yan waiting. “Does it fit?” he asked. “If not, I can have them alter it.”
Her expression was distant. “It’s fine. Leave it as is.”
She was always reserved, so Chen Yan thought little of it. Checking his phone, he nodded. “If there’s nothing else, let’s pack up and set out.”
“Mm… alright.”
Today, they would return to his hometown for the New Year.
At the hour of the morning sun’s ascent, precisely ten o’clock, two figures stepped forth from their dwelling. Awaiting them at the entrance was a sleek, black steed of the modern era—a Buick business carriage, procured by Chen Yan through the ethereal threads of the internet.
Why, one might ask, did they not take the swift-moving iron beast known as the high-speed rail? The answer lay in the unseen shackles of bureaucracy—Little Madam Gu, to this day, remained a wanderer without identity, an elusive ghost in the mortal registry. Without the sacred sigil of identification, she could not ride the high-speed dragon of steel.
As for soaring through the skies? Little Madam Gu had once traversed the vast realms of the Celestial Path, but having now descended to the Platform Ascension Stage, her strength allowed for only short bursts of flight. To embark on a journey of such distance would drain her essence to the marrow. Moreover, a lone figure streaking across the daylight heavens would not remain unnoticed—surely by the morrow, her visage would grace the front page of every scroll across the land.
Thus, they had chosen the steady path—five hours of earthly travel to return home. A touch more time-consuming, yet an acceptable burden. The cost? A mere handful of silver coins, a trifle to Chen Yan in his current state.
The carriage’s driver, a man of humble bearing, greeted them with due reverence and took their belongings to be swallowed by the vehicle’s belly. Once within, Gu Qing Yi, rather than sit beside Chen Yan in the second row, withdrew into the depths of the carriage, pulling her hood low and sealing herself in the silence of meditation.
Chen Yan handed a scrap of parchment to the driver, upon which was inscribed their first destination. “We must collect another traveler.”
The driver nodded without question—after all, should their journey exceed the allotted miles, it only meant further weight to his purse. More distance was a fortune, not a burden.
Their path led them north of Jin Ling Prefecture, where the mighty river coiled like a jade serpent. Their destination: Shimao Riverside, an abode of towering residences known for its unparalleled view of the celestial waters. Here, within a fortress of glass and stone, dwelled Lu Si Si.
Arrangements had been made the night before, and as the iron steed arrived at the gates, Chen Yan’s keen eyes fell upon a lone figure waiting at the roadside. A young maiden clad in a down-filled robe, the very one Chen Yan had bestowed upon her in days past. At her feet rested a snow-white travel chest, her form adorned with a cap that cast a shadow over her fair countenance. Beneath the brim, strands of silk-like hair cascaded, and upon her back rested a small satchel, lending her an air of youthful charm.
As the carriage drew near, anticipation flickered in her gaze, yet uncertainty lingered upon her delicate features.
The door parted, and as the maiden beheld Chen Yan’s face, her lips curled into a smile as sweet as spring’s first bloom. “Chen Yan, you have come.”
As the driver busied himself with her belongings, Chen Yan descended and stood before her. The girl, flustered, averted her gaze, her fingers fidgeting with the brim of her cap.
Chen Yan chuckled and reached forth, gently righting the askew headpiece.
“Aiya! I wore it that way on purpose!” she whispered, cheeks tinged with crimson as she took a half-step back. Hastily, she adjusted it once more. “I saw it on the web—it’s stylish to wear it slightly tilted.”
Chen Yan’s lips quirked. “It suits you. Is it new?”
She nodded. “Mm.”
“Your family?”
“They have journeyed to Harbor City. I am alone in the house for now. They will not return until after the Lantern Festival.” Her voice was steady, neither joyous nor sorrowful.
“I see. Good.”
A glance from her, hesitation flashing across her face before she finally spoke, voice low, “You said… there is an elder accompanying us this time?”
“She is already within the carriage,” Chen Yan mused before offering guidance. “For now… call her ‘Auntie.’”
(Calling her ‘sister’ would twist our generational ties into an unsightly knot…) he thought wryly.
Lu Si Si accepted his words without protest, nodding solemnly. Drawing a deep breath, she steeled herself, and with newfound resolve, followed him to the waiting vehicle.
Through the open door, her eyes landed upon a shadow reclined in the farthest seat.
“A-auntie, greetings,” she stammered, bowing her head with utmost respect. “I am Lu Si Si, a friend of Chen Yan. I…”
A single nod from Gu Qing Yi, her voice clear as spring water: “Mm. Hello.”
Lu Si Si blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.
That voice—so crisp, so youthful…
Something was amiss.
But she dared not question it. Maintaining her composure, she followed Chen Yan into the second row and took her seat beside him. Still, after a moment of fidgeting, she hesitated before whispering, “Should I switch places with Auntie? The back row is cramped… I fear she may be uncomfortable.”
“No need to concern yourself with her,” Chen Yan said lazily. “She is merely catching up on sleep.”
(Hmph. We set our departure for early morn, yet this woman squandered the night watching comedic performances, only to surrender to slumber at dawn…)
The carriage surged forward, wheels devouring the road. Not long after, Lu Si Si reached into her small satchel, producing a drink she then offered to Chen Yan.
“I feared you might have left without breakfast, so I brought this.” Her gaze flickered away in the dim light of the cabin, her fingers tightening slightly around the bottle.
Chen Yan looked down. A bottle of chocolate milk.
Ah… so she remembered.
In idle conversations past, he had mentioned his fondness for all things chocolate. Clearly, she had taken such words to heart.
As he pondered this, Lu Si Si retrieved yet another bottle from her bag, her voice even softer. “This… this is for Auntie.”
Chen Yan chuckled, tossing the bottle over his shoulder.
“It’s for you,” he called.
A beat of silence, then the faintest reply from the back row. “Mm. Thank you.”
Lu Si Si turned swiftly, bowing her head. “No need to thank me, Auntie! No need at all.”
Yet her eyes, wide with apprehension, dared not linger upon the shadowed figure beyond.
The carriage took to the highway, cutting through the wind with unrelenting speed.
So many days apart, so much left unsaid—Lu Si Si had long wished to speak with Chen Yan. But the presence of the ‘elder’ behind them bound her tongue, leaving her stiff and reserved.
Chen Yan teased her, tried to coax her into ease, but the girl, ever solemn, responded with curt, proper answers. Seeing this, Chen Yan relented, reaching instead for his communication talisman. He cast her a knowing glance and gestured.
Lu Si Si understood at once, drawing forth her own device. A message flickered onto the screen.
“Are you really that nervous?”
“…Yes.”
“There’s no need to be.”
“…I just want to leave a good impression on your elder.”
The girl lifted her head after speaking, her gaze pitiful as she looked up at Chen Yan. His heart wavered at her expression, and with a chuckle, he reached out, pressing her hand down, taking away the phone without waiting for her protest. Without a word, he placed the device on her lap, then, as naturally as a drifting leaf upon a tranquil stream, he clasped Lu Si Si’s delicate hand, letting it rest beside the seat.
The moment Chen Yan’s fingers intertwined with hers, Lu Si Si’s body trembled slightly, as if struck by an unseen force. Yet, paradoxically, a sense of peace settled within her heart, calming the ripples of her thoughts.
Behind them, nestled in the corner of the back seat, Gu Qing Yi cracked open her eyes and cast a glance forward. What she saw made her lips twitch slightly—Chen Yan and this girl were holding hands.
With an unreadable expression, she lowered her hood further over her face, then closed her eyes once more, sinking into a light slumber.
The carriage rolled through the winding roads for over two hours before it pulled into a roadside rest stop. As the vehicle came to a halt, both Chen Yan and the driver disembarked, making their way toward the washrooms. Seeing this, Lu Si Si immediately followed—she could not fathom how she was supposed to face that so-called ‘elder’ alone within the carriage.
Even without any particular animosity, she steeled herself and walked into the restroom.
When she emerged, however, Chen Yan was nowhere in sight. She glanced around, hesitant, before deciding to head back toward the vehicle. As she neared, a striking figure stood by the car door, stretching languidly as though rousing from deep meditation.
At a mere glance, Lu Si Si found herself stunned, her eyes widening slightly.
This girl…
She was breathtaking.
Even as a fellow woman, Lu Si Si felt herself unable to look away. The delicate contour of her face, framed by large, expressive eyes—how enviable! That cascade of thick, luscious hair—how enviable! And despite the down jacket she wore, the open zipper revealed a form-fitting sweater beneath, accentuating the perfect curve of her upper body—how utterly self-defeating!
She couldn’t help but glance down at herself.
[Hmm… No matter. I’m still young. There’s still time for growth… right?]
Swallowing her hesitation, Lu Si Si approached, hesitating slightly before speaking. “Excuse me… You’re blocking our car door.”
“??”
Gu Qing Yi’s brows furrowed slightly as she looked at the girl before her, then comprehension dawned—ah, this little one hadn’t seen her clearly inside the carriage.
She gave a small nod and asked, “You’re done?”
“Mm.” Then Lu Si Si blinked. “Mm?”
That voice…?
Sweet and crisp, yet carrying a peculiar cadence…
“… Auntie?”
“Mm.”
…
[Auntie?!] Lu Si Si nearly choked on air. [This woman looks younger than Chen Yan!]
Meanwhile, Gu Qing Yi sized up the girl, taking in her startled expression before inhaling deeply. Holding the title of Legitimate Mother, a celestial of twenty-one, she worked to arrange her face into what she believed was a benevolent, elder-like expression. “How old are you?”
“I… I just turned eighteen last December.”
“Hm. Four years younger than Chen Yan—quite suitable.” Gu Qing Yi nodded sagely before continuing, “How did you two meet?”
“Uh…”
Lu Si Si froze.
How was she supposed to answer that?
Should she say that she met him on a plane… after he beat her into tears?
“Um… I was facing some difficulties, and Chen Yan helped me. That’s how we got acquainted.” She settled on a vague answer.
“Oh. Are you a native of Jin Ling Prefecture?”
“Sort of. My mother’s from Jin Ling, my father from Harbor City.”
Gu Qing Yi nodded again, then—
“How many siblings do you have?”
“What do your parents do for a living?”
“Are you attending school in Jin Ling as well?”
“You…”
One question after another, each one striking like the precise thrusts of a practiced swordswoman, leaving Lu Si Si scrambling to answer, her responses growing more hurried and disjointed.
At last, just as she began to stammer, Chen Yan’s voice cut in, bringing an end to her interrogation. “Enough, Gu Little Madam, shall I bring out her birth chart for you to divine her fate as well?”
Gu Qing Yi actually considered it, nodding in contemplation. “That wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
Chen Yan scoffed. “Give it a rest. Did you forget what I do? Do I look like I need you to divine anything?”
Heavenly Mortal Realm or not, when it came to Fate Circulation, you were still just a mere fledgling compared to me, Gu Little Madam.
“Enough talk. Back in the car—we still have a long journey ahead.” With that, he nudged Gu Qing Yi toward the vehicle before taking Lu Si Si’s hand and helping her inside.
Once the journey resumed, Lu Si Si found herself plagued with unease. Countless questions brewed in her mind, yet with Gu Qing Yi seated just behind them, she dared not voice them outright.
This ‘Auntie’—just what exactly was she to Chen Yan? How could she be his elder when she looked younger than him?
And most of all—
How could she be so breathtakingly beautiful?
In the back seat, Gu Qing Yi sat with eyes half-lidded, observing Lu Si Si in quiet scrutiny.
Something was amiss…
Wasn’t Chen Yan known for his preference for tall women with imposing figures?
This girl… wasn’t exactly that.
Meanwhile, Chen Yan found himself nursing a headache.
Two young women, yet somehow this encounter carried the air of an awkward meeting between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law.
No wonder the old tales warned that a man’s greatest trial lay in the discord between the women of his household.
Just then, his phone vibrated lightly in his palm. Assuming it was a message from Lu Si Si, who was still tapping away at her screen, he glanced at it—only to see that the sender was, in fact, Gu Qing Yi.
“She’s quite… petite.”
Chen Yan frowned. “What do you mean? She just turned eighteen, I’m only twenty-two. That’s a reasonable age gap.”
Gu Qing Yi’s next message arrived swiftly: “I wasn’t talking about her age.”
Chen Yan: “??… Huh??!”
His head snapped up, his gaze darting toward the backseat.
Not you too, Gu Little Madam! This… This is not a conversation we should be having!
Frantically, he fired off a string of question marks in response.
Chen Yan: “????????????????????????????”
Gu Qing Yi narrowed her eyes slightly, her tone cool as the evening breeze drifting over a tranquil lake. “I merely think… you favor those with grand, towering figures, ones whose presence commands the eye. I fear that you do not truly care for this girl, that you merely play with her heart. Do not bring misfortune upon another.”
Chen Yan frowned, his fingers flying over his phone screen like a swordsman executing swift, precise strikes. “Who says I prefer such a thing? I actually like—”
Wait. No! That was dangerous territory!
With the reflexes of a warrior sensing an ambush, he swiftly erased his words and rewrote them with caution.
“Are you implying that I am a shallow man who judges solely by appearances?”
“No,” Gu Qing Yi replied, her voice as placid as a still pond. “You are not shallow.”
“That’s more like it.”
“You are exceptionally shallow.”
Chen Yan scowled, retreating from battle with his pride barely intact. He shoved his phone away.
No more talking! This conversation was unsalvageable!
But before long, his phone vibrated again. With an arched brow, he glanced at the screen. This time, the message was from Lu Si Si.
“I have remained silent for too long, and that would be rude. Chen Yan, your esteemed elder—what does she enjoy? Perhaps I can find a topic to converse with her about.”
Chen Yan pondered briefly, then smirked. With a flick of his fingers, he replied:
“She enjoys the divine melodies of a certain app.”
Moments later, Gu Qing Yi sat in the back seat, gazing listlessly out the window, the monotony of the journey settling upon her like an unmoving fog.
Then, suddenly—
“A-pa-tsu! A-pa-tsu! A-pa-tsu! A-pa-tsu!~”
Lu Si Si held up her phone, her expression carefully arranged into a friendly, eager smile. “You… do you like this tune? I noticed it has gained quite the following lately. Many performers use it for their dance routines…”
Gu Qing Yi’s eye twitched ever so slightly.
Chen Yan, adopting the guise of an honorable scholar, feigned deep interest in his phone. But within his heart, laughter roared like a triumphant general celebrating victory.
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation