Chapter 4: Unexpected Contact

Shuyue’s figure flashed, appearing instantly on the sword plaza.

Wanqing stood there, her face pale, at a loss.

Before her, beneath the weapon rack, lay a pile of shards—the remnants of a white jade cup used to hold snow pine dew for maintaining swords, accidentally shattered.

Across from her stood Chu Yi, who had arrived at Startled Swan Peak unnoticed, his hands clasped behind his back, brows slightly furrowed.

Looking at the fragments and then at the panicked Wanqing, his tone carried reproach: “How can you be so careless?
Though not a spiritual tool, this belongs to Startled Swan Peak.”

Already anxious over his delayed formal acceptance as a disciple, Chu Yi’s tone was less than kind, seeing this mere sword attendant damage something from his master’s peak.

Wanqing, under his gaze, grew even more frightened, instinctively stepping back.

She forgot about the sandalwood sword rack behind her, stumbling with a cry, her body tilting backward!

Bracing for pain, she squeezed her eyes shut, but it never came.

A cool, steady hand caught her waist in time, a faint, chilling spiritual energy lifting her gently back upright.

Caught off guard, Wanqing crashed into a soft, cold embrace.

The moon-white fabric was smooth and cool against her flushed cheeks, leaving her dazed.

The moment Shuyue sensed Wanqing’s fall, her body moved faster than her mind, practically teleporting to catch her.

Only after did she realize she held a warm, soft figure in her arms.

The girl’s slender, delicate frame trembled faintly with panic, her subtle fragrance seeping through the thin fabric.

Shuyue: “!!!”

‘Oh no, oh no, oh no! I touched her! The heroine! The living heroine! I’m done for! Help!’

The spiritual mist around her wavered sharply, but years of practiced composure stopped her from shoving Wanqing away.
Her arms remained stiffly wrapped around her.

Her voice struggled to maintain its usual icy calm, though it came out slightly rushed: “Stand properly.”

The sudden turn of events stunned Chu Yi.

Seeing his revered, moon-like master personally intervene, so… intimately catching a clumsy sword attendant, intensified the odd feeling in his heart.

Wanqing steadied herself, her cheeks burning as if they might bleed.

She could still feel the lingering cool, soft touch at her waist and the faint, captivating cold fragrance at her nose.

Her heart raced, her ear tips flushed red, and she barely dared to look at Shuyue, whispering: “Th-thank you, Elder…”

Like she’d been scalded, Shuyue withdrew her hand swiftly yet gracefully, her wide sleeves falling to conceal her slightly curled fingers, still tingling with the sensation of Wanqing’s waist.

‘I’m doomed, doomed, doomed! This physical contact was way too much! Will the heavens strike me down later?’

To mask her inner turmoil, she turned her attention to the “culprit,” her voice far colder than when she spoke to Wanqing: “Chu Yi.”

Snapped back to reality by her icy tone, Chu Yi suppressed all stray thoughts, bowing respectfully: “Elder.”

“This is not your peak, these are not your belongings, and she is not your person.”

Shuyue’s voice was deliberate, laced with undeniable authority: “It’s not your place to comment.
The people and things of Startled Swan Peak are mine to handle.”

She emphasized “the people of Startled Swan Peak,” making Chu Yi’s heart tighten and Wanqing, just steadying herself, feel an inexplicable tremor, her cheeks growing hotter.

Chu Yi realized he’d angered the elder and bowed deeply: “This disciple spoke out of turn and overstepped.
Please punish me severely, Elder!”

Shuyue had no desire to linger on him, fearing her carefully maintained facade would crumble further.

She turned slightly, addressing Wanqing, who seemed to want to shrink into a ball, her voice forcibly evened but softer from the earlier contact, carrying an unintended warmth: “It’s just a cup. If it’s broken, it’s broken.
Are you hurt?”

‘Oh no, why did I ask that last part!’
Shuyue mentally kicked herself for slipping.

Wanqing, startled by the subconscious concern, looked up, her big eyes glistening as she shook her head vigorously: “No, no! Thank you for your concern, Elder!”

“Go get a new one.”

Shuyue spoke quickly, turning away to avoid looking at her.

“Yes, Elder!”
Wanqing replied softly, like a startled but soothed rabbit, her heart pounding as she hurried off, her mind filled with that cool, soft embrace and the words “Are you hurt?”

Chu Yi left, leaving Shuyue alone on the sword plaza.

“Calm down, Shuyue! You’re the survival-focused Misty Moon Fairy! That was just an accident! An accident!”

She took a deep breath of Startled Swan Peak’s icy air, turning to return to her cave, but her gaze fell on the spot where Wanqing practiced her basic sword forms.
The plain iron sword still lay there quietly.

The faint strand of Startled Swan sword intent she’d infused into it seemed to pulse vividly, reacting to its owner’s recent emotional surge.

Shuyue’s steps paused, that suppressed strange feeling bubbling up again.

Meanwhile, Wanqing, holding a new white jade cup, didn’t immediately return to the sword plaza.

Her heart still raced, her face still warm, as she dashed to a secluded spring halfway down the peak.

Carefully setting the cup aside, she crouched and splashed her burning cheeks with cool spring water.

Water droplets slid down her delicate neck, bringing a touch of relief but failing to quell the unfamiliar, restless heat in her heart.

Her mind replayed the earlier scene: the panic of nearly falling, the sudden cool, strong arm at her waist, the crash into that cold, fragrant, yet impossibly soft embrace, and the low “Stand properly” followed by… “Are you hurt?”

“Senior Sister…” she murmured unconsciously, then startled herself with her bold address, glancing around like a thief to ensure no one heard.
Relieved, her lips curved into a shy smile.

She’d never had such close contact with anyone.

Before, she’d lived alone, cautiously, with no one to catch her when she stumbled, let alone shield her in such a… cool yet comforting embrace.

Elder Misty Moon was nothing like she’d imagined.

Outsiders called her cold as ice, unapproachable, a lofty fairy beyond reach.

But Wanqing felt… maybe Senior Sister just wasn’t good at expressing herself?

She’d glance over occasionally while Wanqing tirelessly practiced basic sword forms, grant her a precious strand of sword intent to aid her perception, and unhesitatingly step in to defend her when she was scolded for a mistake…

Thinking of Chu Yi, Wanqing’s face tightened slightly.
That Senior Brother Chu was highly talented and handsome, but his intense gaze toward Senior Sister made her faintly uneasy.

And his harsh tone when scolding her earlier—Senior Sister was so much better…

Wanqing splashed her face again, trying to calm herself.

She couldn’t cause trouble for Senior Sister.
Being allowed to stay was already an immense blessing.

She had to work harder!
Practice her sword, excel as a sword attendant, so maybe… Senior Sister would spare her another glance?

She picked up the new jade cup, carefully wiped it clean, and adjusted her clothes.

Ensuring she looked presentable, she took a deep breath and headed back to the sword plaza.

When she returned, Shuyue was gone.

A flicker of disappointment crossed Wanqing’s heart, but she quickly rallied.

She placed the new cup carefully in its spot, then walked to her iron sword.

Gripping the hilt, she felt the strand of Senior Sister’s sword intent, now more vibrant, its cool aura wrapping around her fingers, bringing an odd sense of closeness.

Closing her eyes, Wanqing recalled Senior Sister’s sword practice and… that fleeting embrace.