Chapter 127: Shu Yi, Call Me Brother
(This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation)
Beneath a sky filled with twinkling stars, the courtyard of serenity remained quiet. Having finished washing up, Ji You sat cross-legged in meditation for half an hour. Now, he was crouched beside the stove, roasting sweet potatoes.
Before long, a delightful sweetness filled the air, wafting out alongside the rising heat of the flames.
At the same time, atop the distant peak, the howling sword aura had gradually settled. The wind stilled, and the trees ceased their rustling.
Only the curling smoke from the kitchen chimney rose into the night sky, merging with the drifting clouds.
Ji You cast a glance toward the Cloud Summit Palace, then withdrew his gaze. He stood and walked to the tea table, beginning to prepare tea.
The tea leaves in this courtyard were of extraordinary quality, a stark contrast to the kind Cao Jin Song brewed in large, hasty pots. As the hot water poured into the teapot, a fragrant aroma slowly diffused into the night, intensifying with each passing moment.
Before long, three graceful figures emerged from the mountain path, stopping on the higher slope overlooking the courtyard.
Due to the incline, they could easily see over the courtyard walls. The glow of candlelight spilling through the windows illuminated the scene within.
They saw a tall, upright figure—Ji You, freshly bathed. His skin was pale as snow, his features sharp like a sword, and his posture as he poured tea was steady, the water flowing like a silken thread.
The three women stood in silence, their gazes locked on the scene.
Earlier that evening, everyone had assumed that today’s story was about a disciple of the Heavenly Script Academy, obsessed with swordsmanship, attempting to break through Sword Forest, only to be rejected by the Sword Dao Chief of Heavenly Sword Peak.
No one had expected that, come nightfall, Qi Zheng Yang would appear at Mystic Sword Peak and bow deeply before the Little Mirror Master.
Ji You had not been taken to learn swordsmanship but rather to select a sword that would protect the true heir of Spirit Sword Mountain.
The Little Mirror Master of Spirit Sword Mountain owned countless renowned swords, with Shang Xi Yao’s gift among the finest. It was said to be forged by a legendary swordsmith, using the most resilient metal in all of Azure Cloud Dominion—a blade that took years just to temper.
Earlier in the Sword Vault, Ding Yao had attempted to stop Ji You from choosing a sword, even ridiculing his intent. In her view, no gift could possibly surpass the sword given by Shang Xi Yao, and Ji You’s so-called gift must be a mere excuse to delay.
But when Qi Zheng Yang appeared on Mystic Sword Peak, his sword aura sweeping the summit, it became clear that Ji You had chosen a sword unlike any other—a sword that outshone all the swords in the Sword Vault combined.
Some swords are given to please, while others exist solely to protect.
Ji You had spoken to no one about his plans until they were fulfilled, and even after, he remained as composed as if it had all been trivial.
“Master… what is he doing?”
After a long silence, Zhuo Wan Qiu spoke absentmindedly.
Inside, Ji You picked up a tea cup with a guilty expression, hesitated, then set it down—only to pick it up again moments later.
“He’s debating whether he can secretly use my cup since no one’s watching,” Yan Shu Yi murmured softly.
Yet, as soon as she answered, something felt off. She turned to glance at Zhuo Wan Qiu, searching for confirmation.
Zhuo Wan Qiu, however, kept her gaze on the darkened night around them, her expression unchanging, as if nothing had happened.
The three of them pushed open the courtyard gate and stepped inside. Ji You lifted his head slightly, then stood up, using a fire hook to retrieve a few roasted sweet potatoes from the stove.
“Why did Qi Zheng Yang come to Mystic Sword Peak?” Yan Shu Yi asked.
“His sword heart could no longer allow him to remain at Heavenly Sword Peak. Today, he had two choices—draw his sword or fall to darkness.”
Ji You placed the sweet potatoes on the table. “When I reached the Third Layer of the Sword Forest, I confirmed the direction of his sword intent. Since I was already there, I took an extra step—to prepare a sword for you.”
Hearing this, both Ding Yao and Zhuo Wan Qiu bit their lips in silence.
The Sword Forest had stood for years, yet only Ji You had perceived Qi Zheng Yang’s true intent through its sword aura.
Not only had he shattered the Sword Forest in a single hour, but he had also orchestrated the retrieval of a sword for the Little Mirror Master. It was simply inconceivable.
“Next time, we should build a larger stove, fill it with charcoal, and roast skewers of meat and vegetables.”
Yan Shu Yi sat obediently on the blanket. “Oh, I’ll prepare it tomorrow.”
“No rush. After tonight, I’ll likely be leaving with the academy’s disciples to descend the mountain.”
Ji You spoke seriously, subtly hinting, [If you’re going to pout, now’s your last chance. This shop won’t stay open forever.]
Only then did Yan Shu Yi recall that the Heavenly Script Academy disciples had finished their Dao Inquiry. She narrowed her eyes, displeased.
Now that she thought about it, once she returned, she might have to resort to banditry again.
Ji You peeled a sweet potato, murmuring to himself.
By his calculations, he had only three thousand taels of silver left—one thousand sent to Yuyang County, some given to Kuang Cheng, another thousand spent on pills and swords, and the last thousand mailed to Yan Shu Yi.
Now that he thought about it, money truly did burn fast.
Still, since he had been out for over half a month, Instructor Cao and Instructor Wang should have received their monthly stipends again.
Before leaving, Kuang Cheng had even mentioned he might be promoted, which meant he’d likely receive a larger share.
Thinking of this, Ji You couldn’t help but feel his money pouch growing heavier, even though not a single tael truly belonged to him.
Yan Shu Yi watched him as he sank into contemplation. Beneath the table, her jade-like foot swayed gently, her soft pink toes curling and relaxing before she slowly extended a slender, alabaster hand toward the table. After a moment’s hesitation, she finally picked up the tea cup of that unfamiliar man she had only met thrice, bringing it to her lips for a sip.
Ji You caught a glimpse of this from the corner of his eye but remained impassive—neither rejecting nor openly encouraging, his approach subtle yet evident.
“Before we leave, Ding Yao still needs to apologize to my Senior Sister. That day in the ruins, she handed over the Vermilion Fruit without resistance when you blocked her path, yet you still pursued her relentlessly. Ultimately, that was wrong.”
Ding Yao remained silent for a long while before pressing her red lips together and whispering, “Yes, Young Master…”
At her words, both Yan Shu Yi and Ji You paused slightly, their tea cups and sweet potatoes momentarily stilled before they calmly resumed drinking and eating.
A personal maid would usually only obey the orders of her master. Even if someone of higher status gave her an instruction, she would need her master’s approval to act. Of course, Ding Yao had never been an obedient maid—she had often overstepped her bounds. But in her master’s presence, she would not act out of turn, especially since she despised the Mirror Master growing closer to Ji You.
And yet, this was the first time in her life she had called him “Young Master.”
Forms of address carried layers of meaning. “Ji You” was how she addressed him with the dignity of an inner disciple of Spirit Sword Mountain, a peer to the Little Mirror Master of Mystic Sword Peak. “Young Master Ji” was her forced politeness when acting obedient before the Mirror Master. But the simple “Young Master”—that was a maid’s genuine deferential address to her master’s household.
At that moment, Yan Shu Yi’s voice rang out in the room: “Wan Qiu, it seems someone is outside. Go check.”
“Yes, Mirror Master!”
Zhuo Wan Qiu swiftly rose, pulling Ding Yao along as they left and firmly shut the door behind them. Outside, they quietly stood guard, nibbling on their sweet potatoes.
Who would be wandering about in the dead of night?
Besides, this was already within Cloud Summit Palace’s territory—ordinary people wouldn’t even be able to set foot here without permission.
There was no one outside. If this continued any longer, the only thing appearing would be someone inside getting into trouble…
Inside the room, Yan Shu Yi set down her tea cup, her expression as cool as ever as she ate her sweet potato. Her arms subtly lifted ever so slightly, creating an open space around her delicate waist—just enough for a man’s arms to wrap around.
Yet Ji You remained motionless.
After a long wait, the Little Mirror Master blinked in confusion. Seeing no movement, she turned her head toward him.
Ji You sat properly at the table, his posture impeccable, like a true gentleman. His back was straight, his gaze directed downward, his mind seemingly focused on nothing but quiet contemplation.
“What… are you doing?”
[What are you doing? Why haven’t you hurried over and embraced me without waiting for my permission?]
Ji You held his breath and softly spoke, “Shu Yi, call me ‘Elder Brother.'”
Yan Shu Yi froze. At that moment, the tea cup on the table trembled violently, its tea splashing out. Her beautiful eyes instantly filled with a chilling intent.
That killing intent burst through the rooftop, swirling fiercely through the courtyard. The swords at Ding Yao’s and Zhuo Wan Qiu’s waists suddenly vibrated, trembling uncontrollably as if yearning to leave their sheaths.
Yet, the two remained unfazed, their expressions unchanging. As though long accustomed to this, they didn’t even flinch when the sharp clang of metal rang in their ears.
Inside the room, the fight had already begun.
Amidst the fragrance of tea and the lingering scent of sweet potatoes, soft, fair feet flew toward Ji You, striking from all angles.
In the end, the dignified and awe-inspiring Little Mirror Master of Spirit Sword Mountain found herself being held tightly in the arms of the unfamiliar man.
Alas, a fresh bite mark now adorned her round, jade-like toe.
She had been forcefully embraced…
Ji You held the warm and delicate Little Mirror Master in his arms, feeling the soft curves pressing against him. He couldn’t help but narrow his eyes slightly, sighing inwardly.
He had wanted Yan Shu Yi to whimper, yet in the end, she had overpowered him instead.
Had he been tamed?
Would this be the way things would always go from now on?
Yan Shu Yi, on the other hand, was rather pleased with herself. Holding her tea cup, she leisurely swayed her snow-white feet.
Having been carried all the way up Cloud Summit Palace once before without permission, she had already become desensitized to it. Unlike the first time, when she had gone rigid in his embrace, she now rested against him with the perfect softness.
A maiden of sixteen, delicate as mist.
A sword at her waist, she cuts down the mundane.
Though heads do not roll at her blade’s call,
She teaches men that their bones turn frail.
Time passed, the stars shifted, and the deep night gradually faded into dawn.
Ji You lifted the tea pot, pouring its contents into a cup. A single sip told him that the tea had turned as bland as water.
Yan Shu Yi lay nestled against his chest, fast asleep. Her small lips were slightly parted, a tiny bead of drool glistening at the corner of her mouth, her expression peaceful and docile.
Occasionally, she would shift slightly, rubbing against him in a round-and-soft manner.
Though cultivators did not require sleep, it was an ancient habit, ingrained in all living beings. Even when unnecessary, when in comfort, one would always succumb to slumber.
After a long while, Ji You felt a small tug at his collar. Looking down, he saw an exquisite yet dazed face peering up at him.
Slowly, she seemed to remember where she was, her brows furrowing slightly before she looked at him once more. In her eyes, a sharp sword aura flickered into existence.
Ji You, sensing the brewing storm, instinctively spoke, “The Little Mirror Master is indeed worthy of her title—even in sleep, her majesty remains undiminished.”
“A mere disciple of the Heavenly Script Academy, yet you do have some insight.”