Chapter 47: Tian’er
“Even after becoming a cultivator and forgoing food, you’d always sit in front of your courtyard grilling meat to eat.”
“Even when you could barely stand, you insisted on completing your training, saying you couldn’t let Jingyu Peak be looked down upon…”
“These images—I don’t know where they come from, but they feel like… things that truly happened.”
Dugu Ningshuang rarely spoke so much at once. For someone of her temperament, this was extraordinarily rare.
Luo Jiutian feigned ignorance, asking, “Could it be… this is the real reason Senior wants to take me as a disciple?”
Dugu Ningshuang nodded lightly.
Luo Jiutian put on a troubled expression, rubbing his brow. “I don’t doubt Senior’s words, but… I need some time to process this.”
Dugu Ningshuang nodded again, understanding.
Yet her gaze never left his face.
Luo Jiutian felt uneasy under her scrutiny and coughed lightly, shifting the topic. “Haha… by the way, I’m deeply grateful for earlier.”
Dugu Ningshuang remained silent, seemingly lost in memories.
Unsure if she was listening, he continued with a smile, “Those people, acting high and mighty, talking about family and justice, but really just trying to squeeze benefits out of me. If Senior hadn’t stepped in, they might’ve even taken my pants.”
Dugu Ningshuang stayed quiet, her expression unreadable, making it impossible to guess her thoughts.
Silence fell again.
Luo Jiutian touched his nose. “Senior… are you alright?”
His words finally prompted a reaction.
Her fingers tightened, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes.
After a long pause, she said softly, “Could you… call me Master, just once, in advance?”
This time, she didn’t refer to herself as “this seat” but as “I,” her tone losing its lofty authority, tinged with unease and anticipation.
Luo Jiutian was slightly stunned.
Those usually cold blue eyes now held a faint mist.
In that moment, she seemed less like the aloof master of Jingyu Peak and more like an ordinary woman fearing rejection.
The barrier was so quiet that even the faint rustle of fingers brushing sleeves was audible.
Luo Jiutian lowered his head, his throat bobbing, unable to speak.
The word rolled on his tongue but wouldn’t come out.
Silence spread, heavy and suffocating.
Finally, he looked up, his gaze settling on her, as if making a compromise, and said softly, “…Master.”
The word barely left his lips when, before he could adjust to its weight, Dugu Ningshuang flashed forward.
They were of similar height, their eyes level, standing so close their breaths intertwined silently.
She didn’t speak, only reached out, pulling him toward her.
Before he could react, her hand pressed the back of his head, gently pushing him forward.
His vision went white, his nose brushing something soft, and the next moment, his face was buried in a deep, gentle warmth.
A faint fragrance hit him—not floral, but crisp and elegant, lingering at his nose, unyielding.
Caught off guard, Luo Jiutian instinctively tried to pull away, but Dugu Ningshuang held him firmly.
“Tian’er… Tian’er…”
She murmured his name, over and over.
“…Mmph… mmph!” Struggling to breathe, he could only make muffled sounds.
“Tian’er… I can’t forget.”
“In those images, you feared pain but never cried out despite grave injuries… just to not disappoint me.”
“You teased me, saying you wanted to see if someone cultivating the Supreme Art could truly become emotionless…”
“You tried so hard to get close to me.”
“And I…”
She stopped.
“Tian’er, why aren’t you speaking?” she asked.
“…Mmph!”
She looked down, realizing their position was improper.
Truth be told, if he weren’t a cultivator, Luo Jiutian might’ve suffocated.
After a moment’s hesitation, she slowly released him.
Luo Jiutian stepped back, creating distance.
He coughed lightly. “Senior, I understand you’re overwhelmed with emotions… but, you know, propriety between men and women. That was a bit much.”
Dugu Ningshuang reined in her emotions, resuming her icy demeanor, and lowered her eyes. “Sorry.”
The atmosphere grew awkward.
“Cough… it wasn’t that excessive. Cultivators follow their hearts, right?” Luo Jiutian said casually. “I’m just thin-skinned, so please forgive me.”
Dugu Ningshuang only hummed in response.
Silence returned to the barrier.
Suddenly, Luo Jiutian slapped his forehead. “Oh no, I just remembered—I forgot to water my spirit stone plant before leaving today. It’s urgent, can’t wait!”
He took half a step outward, feigning urgency.
But before he could take another, a calm voice sounded behind him: “That red-dressed girl holding your arm earlier—what’s your relationship with her?”
Luo Jiutian froze, as if pinned by an invisible force.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
The inevitable has arrived.
His mind raced, frantically searching for the best response.
Lie? No way.
Su Wan’er’s identity could be easily verified. A clumsy lie would unravel, likely triggering a bad ending.
Brush it off? Too risky.
Dugu Ningshuang wasn’t easily fooled. If she grew suspicious, it’d only complicate things, possibly leading to another bad ending.
But telling the truth…
Didn’t seem much better?
After simulating 14,000,605 possibilities in his mind, Luo Jiutian concluded—
He had no choice but the truth.
Turning to face her, he met her gaze with three parts sincerity, three parts nervousness, and four parts readiness to be locked in a dark room, saying frankly, “To answer Senior, she is currently my fiancée.”
His eyes didn’t waver as he spoke.
He’d already planned—if this triggered a bad ending, he’d fall back on his old trick—
Fake his death.
Worst case, he’d don a new identity and start fresh on a new map.
Pity about Luo Chen, that fat sheep he hadn’t fully fleeced.
Luo Jiutian stood still, outwardly calm but secretly watching Dugu Ningshuang’s reaction, ready to act.
She didn’t respond immediately, nor did she nod or hum as before.
Her expression was impossibly complex, beyond even Luo Jiutian’s pie-chart-like perception.
He didn’t understand, but he was deeply shaken.