Chapter 75: Master and Disciple Driven Out

What does it mean to have no hope at all? What was Zilian implying with those words? Why couldn’t I understand a single thing she said?

“No, no, no, I haven’t,” I stammered.

I truly didn’t know what I ought to say; all I knew was that it certainly wasn’t as he imagined.

“That’s enough,” he said, with visible resignation, cutting off the words I was about to utter. He sighed softly and added, “Regardless, before you have your master’s permission, Xiaoyu, you must not fall in love with any woman.”

Fall in love with any woman? His words startled me. I am a woman myself; how could I ever fall for another woman? All this time, the only one I’ve liked is him. Could it be that Zilian thought I wasn’t as gentle with him as the heroines in those tales because he believed I was interested in men?

If I were to tell him right now that the one I liked was, in fact, a man, I wondered—would Zilian, like those masters depicted in the little novels, become gentle to me? Would he stop making me keep vigil for him, stop losing his temper with me, stop wanting to lock me away in an ice cellar like Chixiao?

“Master, what if Xiaoyu’s heart belongs to a man?” I lifted my head to look at him, hoping to catch a trace of happiness on his face. But suddenly, I felt his hand, which had been holding mine tightly, tremble violently. Then he flung my hand aside.

“Master, do you truly not want Xiaoyu anymore?” No matter whether Xiaoyu’s heart belongs to a man or a woman, you’ll never be good to Xiaoyu, never like Xiaoyu, will you? I gazed at him with all the grievance I could muster, eyes growing hot with unshed tears, ready to let them fall in streams—just then, I saw his brows furrow deeply, his face filled with distress.

“Ah!” He let out a sigh, as though truly helpless. With a wave of his long sleeve, he said to me, “Wait here a moment. I’ll be right back.”

With that, and my nod of assent, when I looked again, he had already disappeared from the room.

It wasn’t long before he returned, carrying a tray of delicate pastries. They looked delicious, but compared to the sumptuous dishes from before, these seemed rather meager.

Pouting pitifully, I asked, “Master, is the owner of this place trying to drive us out, not letting us eat here anymore?”

One was a sharp-tongued master, the other a little apprentice who had taken a fancy to the hostess. The demon king’s family must have grown displeased with us. They wouldn’t even let us finish a meal, just wanting to send us away.

“What nonsense are you saying? I have things to attend to, and can’t afford to waste time here. Once we reach Immortal Abode, there will be even better food. If you’re really hungry, take this tray of pastries and eat them on the road.”

With that, Zilian handed the tray toward me.

“Oh,” I replied, lips still pouting. I reached out to take it, but he quickly lifted the tray, removed several pastries himself, then handed it back to me.

I accepted the tray into my arms and asked, “Master, don’t we need to return this tray to them?”

“There’s no need,” Zilian replied, lifting a pastry to his lips and taking a light bite. His tone was calm.

“Why not?” I asked, still puzzled.

“They don’t lack such things.”

“Oh.” Determined not to be left behind this time, I learned to be clever. I gripped his sleeve tightly with one hand, clutching the tray with the other. Whenever I was tempted, I’d raise the tray to my mouth, stick out my tongue and lick the pastries a few times, then contentedly lick my lips and savor the taste in my heart.

So sweet, so cloyingly sweet—the pastries of the mortal world were truly overwhelmingly sweet.

After a long while, Zilian, who hadn’t spoken, suddenly coughed lightly a few times.

“What’s wrong, Master? Are you ill?” I steadied the tray in my arms and turned my head to him, concern written all over my face.

He coughed again, deepening my confusion.

“Xiaoyu,” he finally called to me.

“Yes, Master? Is there something you need?” I asked, puzzled.

“Before you left the mountain, did you remember to bring Moonshadow?” Zilian asked, looking down at me.

Moonshadow—my sword! I reached back, feeling for my bundle, and nodded. “Yes! I brought Moonshadow; it’s in my pack. Why, Master? Do you want to take me flying on the sword?”

I looked at him with eager anticipation as I spoke.