These past two weeks, Sang Dai’s days could be described as extremely uneventful.
During the day, Liu Lixue would arrive at fixed times to heal her injuries. After a whole day of treatment, she would share a medicinal meal with Su Xuan in the evening.
The medicinal meals were different every day, but they were uniformly extravagant. Sang Dai didn’t even dare to calculate how many spirit stones were spent on each table, nor did she know how much wealth Su Xuan actually had.
Su Xuan, as a Beast King, was so busy during the day that he was nowhere to be seen. Yet, when it was time to eat, he could always be found in the dining room.
After the meal, they would each go about their routines, bathing and tidying up. Sang Dai was naturally slow at doing things. Even with Cui Shao’s help, she was always a step behind Su Xuan.
Usually, by the time she returned to the main hall, Su Xuan was already waiting for her in the inner room. When he saw her, he would methodically help dry her hair, then casually remark:
“It’s just convenient. Miss Sang’s body is weak these days. If something happens, this lord wouldn’t be able to claim any benefits from the Sword Sect.”
Sang Dai had grown numb to such comments. Each night, she slept on the main bed, while Su Xuan slept on the smaller, softer couch nearby.
Sometimes, when Sang Dai woke up, she would find herself curled up in Su Xuan’s arms, hugging his fox tail. This usually meant she had been suffering from alternating chills and fevers the night before. Su Xuan, unable to sleep himself, could only hold her to take care of her.
Other times, when she woke up to find Su Xuan still lying on the soft couch, it meant she had been relatively well-behaved the previous night. Her chaotic meridians had been quickly stabilized by Su Xuan, allowing him to get a good night’s rest as well.
Sang Dai often felt guilty toward Su Xuan. She wanted to look into his light-colored eyes and say countless times:
“Thank you for all your hard work, Su Xuan.”
But whenever she met his gaze, her sea of consciousness was invariably filled with the same kind of inner dialogue:
[Dai Dai’s eyelashes are so long, kiss her.]
[Dai Dai’s waist is so slender, hug her.]
[Dai Dai is so beautiful, want to marry her, want to marry her.]
[Dai Dai, Dai Dai, Dai Dai…]
Sang Dai forcibly swallowed her words. Any gratitude or apology she felt toward Su Xuan would vanish into thin air amid his endless confessions.
Was this how all nine-tailed foxes were?
Or was it just Su Xuan?
Sang Dai asked the binding ribbon around her wrist, “What is your lord like, usually?”
“Cold and aloof, with a foul face?”
The ribbon nodded.
“Few words, never says two if one will do?”
The ribbon nodded excitedly.
“Hot-tempered, unpredictable, enjoys hanging people up like kites while snacking on melon seeds and making them fly for his amusement?”
The ribbon nodded furiously.
Miss Sang had described him too well!
So accurate, so spot on, so perfectly precise!
It rubbed against Sang Dai’s wrist, slithering back and forth on her arm, tickling her and making her laugh.
When Su Xuan entered, he happened to see Sang Dai laughing uncontrollably, teased by the binding ribbon.
Sang Dai’s laughter was truly beautiful—her brows arched, her eyes sparkled with a flowing charm, and her cold, aloof face melted into a radiant smile that seemed to dissolve all ice and snow. Two faint dimples peeked at the corners of her lips.
Su Xuan was grateful that he stood far away; otherwise, she might have heard his erratic, frantic heartbeat.
Sang Dai also noticed Su Xuan—he was simply too conspicuous. She patted the binding ribbon, signaling it to behave, the faint smile still lingering on her lips as she said to Su Xuan, “You’re back?”
She was still smiling.
Her smile was so lovely.
Su Xuan felt like his heart was about to explode from its furious pace.
Just as he steadied his voice to respond, he heard footsteps approaching from behind.
With them came a light, playful voice: “Miss Sang, about lunch—”
Before the word “together” could leave his lips, Liu Lixue’s vision blurred. A fierce gust of wind surged toward him, lifting him off the ground.
By the time he regained his senses, he was in front of an imposing set of doors, above which hung the grand characters for “Spirit Beast Hall.”
The stationed demon guards looked on in surprise. “Lord Liu?”
The guards had only seen a flash of red descending from the sky. Thinking it was an enemy, they instinctively prepared to form ranks but quickly realized it was Liu Lixue, who had just entered the Spirit Beast Hall not long ago.
Liu Lixue gritted his teeth, forcing a smile as he climbed up from the ground. From somewhere nearby, he could hear the voice of a certain lovestruck fox:
“Liu Lixue, come back in.”
Liu Lixue maintained his calm expression and said serenely, “It’s fine, it’s fine. I just wanted to check if you all were diligently guarding the hall. Got a bit tired from flying, so I thought I’d rest for a moment.”
The demon guards found the situation absurd, but Liu Lixue’s composure was so convincing that it seemed plausible.
Hearing this, they immediately straightened their postures, as if to etch “dedicated and hardworking” onto their foreheads.
Liu Lixue chuckled as he re-entered the Spirit Beast Hall, patting one of the guards on the shoulder as he passed. “Stay sharp on duty. There’s an honored guest in the hall, and no suspicious person should be allowed in. If a single hair on the guest’s head is harmed, be prepared to lose your heads.”
The guards responded at full volume, “Yes!”
The moment Liu Lixue stepped past the Spirit Beast Hall’s threshold, the smile on his face collapsed. He clenched his folding fan tightly and gritted his teeth.
“Honored… Lord!”
No matter how angry he was, he dared not call Su Xuan by his name directly—even though they had grown up together.
Resigned, he walked the same path he had traversed half an hour ago, following Su Xuan’s instructions to:
Re-enter. Properly.
Back in the hall, Sang Dai had only just heard the familiar voice. Before she could even catch sight of Liu Lixue, Su Xuan had waved his sleeve, and the voice disappeared into the distance.
She blinked in confusion and asked, “Wasn’t that Young Master Liu just now?”
Su Xuan lazily adjusted his wide sleeve, his expression calm and composed. “No, you must have been mistaken.”
Sang Dai: “…”
[That clueless, blind peacock. This lord finally got to see Dai Dai smile once—how could I let anyone else see it?]
Sang Dai’s expression grew complicated.
How much had Liu Lixue endured, staying by Su Xuan’s side?
Su Xuan sat across from her, picked up the tea on the stone table, and poured himself a cup. “Half a month has passed. This lord had Liu Lixue come to repair your meridians.”
Sang Dai nodded, suppressing a smile as she asked, “And where is Young Master Liu now?”
Su Xuan’s hand paused mid-action as he drank his tea, his movement stiffening momentarily before he casually finished his cup with practiced calm.
“He didn’t come? Perhaps some little demoness along the way caught his eye and delayed him.”
Liu Lixue: Reputation unjustly damaged.
Sang Dai remained silent.
Su Xuan’s gaze shifted to the binding ribbon wrapped around her wrist. His lips curled into an almost imperceptible smile as he asked, “Do you like the binding ribbon?”
Hearing its master call, the ribbon excitedly responded, circling Sang Dai’s wrist in loops, teasing her into another fit of laughter.
The smile on Su Xuan’s lips widened.
Sang Dai lightly patted the ribbon. “Calm down, I’m getting ticklish.”
Only then did the ribbon settle down.
When Sang Dai glanced over at Su Xuan, he quickly retracted his smile, returning to his usual cold and indifferent demeanor. He lowered his gaze, poured more tea, and spoke slowly.
“The binding ribbon is a Heaven-grade defensive weapon. It also nourishes the meridians.”
Sang Dai nodded. “I know.”
At this, she added, “Why don’t you give it a proper name? After all, it’s a Heaven-grade artifact, and it’s already awakened its spirit.”
The ribbon nodded vigorously in agreement: Exactly! I’m a Heaven-grade artifact. The master calls me ‘binding ribbon’ every day—how am I any different from an ordinary one?
Su Xuan froze for a moment, glanced at the ribbon on Sang Dai’s wrist, and fell silent. After a while, he said, “Then you name it.”
Sang Dai: “…I’m not sure I’m the right person to name it.”
Su Xuan raised his eyes to her. “Why wouldn’t you be?”
[The binding ribbon can only be worn by the Beast Queen. This lord made it for Dai Dai. If she doesn’t want it, then it’s just a useless strip of silk, and I’ll destroy it myself.]
The ribbon: Shivers.
Sang Dai: “…”
She looked down at the obedient ribbon on her wrist and asked it, “How about I give you a name?”
The ribbon nuzzled against her wrist, nodding frantically in agreement.
Sang Dai smiled, lowered her gaze, and thought for a moment. Then, she suddenly reached out and tapped it with her finger.
“How about Changmang?”
In this chaotic world, she hoped its radiance could endure forever.
The binding ribbon nuzzled against Sang Dai, showing that it liked the name very much.
Sang Dai glanced at Su Xuan, who had been watching her the entire time. Their gazes met.
[Changmang…]
Sang Dai grew curious about what Su Xuan thought of the name.
Her eyes brightened, shimmering as she looked at him.
Su Xuan blinked his long lashes lightly and said in an indifferent tone, “Hmm, it’s acceptable.”
But in Sang Dai’s sea of consciousness, his true thoughts reverberated:
[It sounds amazing! Amazing! So amazing! Even the names she chooses are perfect! Truly my Dai Dai! Kiss her!]
The faint expectation Sang Dai had harbored shattered instantly.
She lowered her head and began laughing quietly.
How else could Su Xuan feel? He admired and anticipated everything about her. Even if Sang Dai had pointed at the binding ribbon and said it was a sword, he would internally praise her sharp perception.
Under the sunlight, the sword cultivator’s smile was truly captivating. Su Xuan’s throat felt dry, and he ended up drinking several cups of tea in succession. He turned his head away, avoiding her gaze, listening to her softly speaking to Changmang.
Although the ribbon had not yet officially recognized her as its master, Sang Dai couldn’t understand its words, nor could it fully respond. Yet somehow, she communicated with Changmang effortlessly. The ribbon constantly amused her, making her laugh often. Su Xuan saw this and regretted not giving it to her earlier.
If he had known, he would have tossed it to the back mountain of the Sword Sect as soon as he made it, leaving it in front of her bamboo hut. Even if she didn’t want it, she’d have to take it. With Changmang to keep her company, she wouldn’t have been so lonely in the Sword Sect.
Su Xuan was lost in thought, entirely oblivious to the resentful gaze from behind him.
Although Sang Dai had lost her spiritual power, her sword cultivator’s keen instincts remained. She noticed Liu Lixue just as he stepped into the room.
Dressed in red, his neatly groomed black hair was slightly disheveled, as if windblown. He looked at Su Xuan with a mournful expression, and if looks could kill, Liu Lixue would have riddled the fox with a hundred holes.
Sang Dai said, “Young Master Liu.”
Su Xuan suddenly turned around.
Liu Lixue quickly forced a smile. “Sovereign Lord, Miss Sang, good afternoon.”
He smiled brightly, but the more one looked, the more forced it seemed.
Su Xuan replied indifferently, “Since you’re here, get started. Why are you still standing around wasting time?”
He knew Sang Dai had been eagerly awaiting this day to rebuild her meridians. Her severely damaged meridians had made her nights restless.
Liu Lixue looked utterly shocked. Wasn’t it Su Xuan who had just thrown him out? How was he now being blamed for wasting time?
But when he met his master’s unhurried, meaningful gaze, he had no choice but to submit without a shred of dignity. He squinted and smiled. “Alright, alright. Miss Sang, shall we move forward?”
Sang Dai rose and thanked him. “Thank you for your trouble, Young Master Liu.”
Reconstructing the meridians required the Seven Lotus Mirror, along with several immortal herbs and spiritual pills. The process was equivalent to breaking the severely injured meridians and stimulating the body to grow new ones. During this process, it was easy for the soul to slip away, so Su Xuan had specifically purchased an immortal herb for stabilizing the soul.
The procedure would take place in the main hall, where Su Xuan had laid down a spiritual barrier. This barrier had been specially designed to stabilize Sang Dai’s soul when he first set it up.
As Sang Dai was about to enter the room, she suddenly stopped and glanced at the person in the courtyard.
Normally, he was never around during the day. Lately, he had been busy dealing with wrongdoers in the Beast Realm, so preoccupied that he was rarely seen.
Yet today, in broad daylight, he was here, quietly keeping watch over her.
Su Xuan remained seated at the stone table in the courtyard. He didn’t follow her, nor did he look at her. His gaze rested on the cup in front of him, his side profile sharp and upright, yet exuding loneliness.
Sang Dai suddenly called out, “Su Xuan.”
He seemed like he hadn’t moved for a long time. After a moment of stillness, he slowly stirred and looked up at her.
Although he didn’t speak, Sang Dai still heard his voice.
[Dai Dai…]
It was soft, so soft, laden with emotions too complex to unravel.
Worry.
Fear.
Heartache.
Sang Dai smiled and said, “Don’t worry.”
Su Xuan’s jaw tensed, and he pressed his lips together tightly before turning his head away. His response was harsh and stiff:
“This lord has spent so many immortal herbs and spiritual pills on you and hasn’t gained anything in return. Don’t you dare die.”
Without meeting his eyes, she couldn’t hear his true thoughts.
But Sang Dai already understood Su Xuan’s heart.
She replied softly, “I won’t. I’ll survive.”
At that moment, the door closed behind her.
The courtyard was left with only him.
The wind picked up, sweeping fallen petals across the ground.
The tea in his cup had long since gone cold.
The soul-stabilizing formation in the main hall activated, signaling that Sang Dai had begun reconstructing her meridians.
Su Xuan’s hand, resting on the stone table, clenched tightly. His knuckles turned white from the force.