I heard you had a white moonlight who died young.

"It will absolutely not harm Tianyun Sect, don't worry." Fan Zhiyi held up three fingers to swear, "This is what He An gave me before he left, so that we could chat occasionally."

Bing Nandong didn't speak, so Fan Zhiyi hurriedly explained, "It's true, and I've also lost my memory. Even if I really knew some of Tianyun Sect's secrets, I've forgotten them all."

Bing Nandong stared at him silently, making Fan Zhiyi feel uneasy: "Okay, it's true that Zhuang Yujing and the others used this token to lure me out last time, and they said they would contact me through this token again if there was any news about the competition. But I remember the pros and cons you analyzed for me, so I don't plan to tell Zhuang Yujing anything."

After a slight pause, Fan Zhiyi added, "You haven't told me anything about the competition, so I don't know anything and have nothing to say to Zhuang Yujing."

"..." Finally, Bing Nandong sighed softly, "It's not that I doubt you, I just don't want you to be so wary of me."

Fan Zhiyi's concern about him talking to others made Bing Nandong feel uncomfortable.

Fan Zhiyi was taken aback, then his peripheral vision was drawn to the sudden burst of firelight that resembled a shooting star. He turned his head to look, and the distant firelight illuminated half the sky.

Fan Zhiyi changed the subject and asked, "What are they doing?"

Bing Nandong followed his gaze and said, "There are other ethnic groups in the Tianyun Sect territory. Today should be their harvest festival, and they are celebrating."

Then Bing Nandong's eyes flickered, and seeing that Fan Zhiyi seemed quite interested, she had an idea and suggested, "Shall we go take a look?"

"Okay."

The little incident that had just happened was put behind them, and the two of them tacitly agreed not to mention it again.

Fan Zhiyi and Bing Nandong walked over and found a circular open space with a large bonfire burning in the middle. Some people dressed in traditional costumes were dancing around the bonfire, while many children, men, women and children of all ages sat down in an even larger circle.

Upon closer inspection, one could see that the people dancing in the middle were young men and women. They wore silver bells on their wrists and ankles, and their clothes were made of brightly colored tie-dye. The hems of their clothes swayed in layers, undulating with their dance steps, like butterflies fluttering their wings, with the bells ringing rhythmically.

The dance was quite spectacular, with its ups and downs, turns and stances, and large movements. Even someone like Fan Zhiyi, who didn't understand dance, felt that it was more like a sacred ritual than a simple dance.

Seeing that he was watching intently, Bing Nandong took on the role of an explainer: "This kind of ceremony lasts all day, with people praying to the sun and moon for a bountiful harvest and a smooth life in the coming year."

Fan Zhiyi already had a fondness for this kind of mysterious culture, which only fueled his curiosity even more.

“You two don’t look like people from our clan,” an elderly woman with a hunched back asked as she approached.

She was quite old, and looked very kind and gentle. Three short horizontal lines were painted on her left cheek with oil paint.

Bing Nandong nodded: "We are disciples of the Tianyun Sect."

The old woman smiled and said, "Have you two ever heard of the Prayer for a Bountiful Harvest Festival before?"

"I've heard a little about it," Bing Nandong replied.

"Although it's getting late, if it won't take up too much of your time, would you two like to experience it for yourselves?"

Fan Zhiyi was naturally very willing: "Can people who are not from our clan participate as well?"

“Yes, you can.” The old woman pointed to another street. “That street has our local delicacies and some handicrafts. You can take a look around. If you want to participate in the sacrificial activities, you are also welcome.”

The old lady waved to them, indicating that they should follow her.

Fan Zhiyi looked at Bing Nandong with great excitement, his meaning self-evident.

Bing Nandong advised, "Fan Zhiyi, besides the meaning I just mentioned, the Prayer for a Bountiful Harvest Festival..."

However, Fan Zhiyi was so excited that he couldn't listen to Bing Nandong's words at all. He grabbed Bing Nandong and started to rush. Bing Nandong sighed and had a headache. Although he thought it was unlikely, he still tried to persuade Fan Zhiyi again: "Fan Zhiyi, it will be very troublesome later."

"Ah, what did you say?"

Fan Zhiyi leaned closer, pressing his ear against Bing Nandong's, and a few soft strands of hair sticking up from the top of his head brushed against Bing Nandong's chin, causing Bing Nandong to gasp. Then, he pushed Fan Zhiyi's head away with one hand, his tone somewhat cold as he tried to remain calm: "It's nothing."

Fan Zhiyi, of course, did not notice any of this; his mind was completely absorbed in this fun ceremony.

Led by their grandmother, Fan Zhiyi and Bing Nandong arrived at a small corner, where the old woman beckoned a young girl over with a small, seashell-shaped box.

The old lady introduced, "This is my granddaughter Qianqian, who is not married yet."

Fan Zhiyi nodded, only to find that Qianqian's eyes were glued to Bing Nandong.

The girl's feelings were obvious, how could Fan Zhiyi not see them? It's just that he always thought that love at first sight was very unreliable, but he didn't expect that this girl would fall for Bing Nan Dong so easily.

Qianqian is a typical girl from a modest family, with an oval face, almond eyes, and a silver ornament on her forehead that makes her even more charming. There is only a short horizontal line painted in color on her left cheek.

Qianqian said in a sweet voice, "Painting the left cheek is our custom, it's meant to bring good fortune. If you're not yet engaged, you paint one line; if you have someone you like, you paint two lines; and if you're married, you paint three lines." After saying that, she looked at Bing Nandong with expectant eyes.

Bing Nandong: "...I'm sorry, I..."

"I'll do it!" Fan Zhiyi rolled up his long sleeves, dipped his finger in the seashell box, and then smeared a mark on his left cheek, asking, "Is this right? I didn't do anything wrong, did I?"

Qianqian smiled and said, "That's right."

After Fan Zhiyi finished this series of actions, he saw that Bing Nandong still did not react and was just staring at him with a gloomy expression. He guessed that Bing Nandong might not be very willing to participate, so he took the initiative to dip his brush in paint and smear it on Bing Nandong's left cheek: "Don't be unhappy, we'll just stay for a while and then go back."

Bing Nandong had only been focused on the paint mark on Fan Zhiyi's face, but unexpectedly, Zhiyi had also painted one on him. He felt numb with anger one moment, and then...

Bing Nandong didn't want to admit it, but that joyful feeling was something he could easily experience at that moment.

Fan Zhiyi glanced at him and saw that the boy's face was made even more handsome and dashing by the bold strokes of ink. He was truly debonair and charming, and no amount of praise could describe him.

Clearly, everyone thought so. After finishing that stroke, Qianqian specifically asked again, "Is it finished?"

Fan Zhiyi heard the surrounding chatter grow louder, and many young men and women were looking in his direction, including Qianqian, whose eyes were like those of wolves and tigers. Most of them were looking at Bing Nandong, but some were also fixed on him.

Fan Zhiyi thought he had drawn it wrong, and nodded blankly: "It's done."

"No," Bing Nandong replied, then added another mark to Fan Zhiyi's and his own faces, so now both of them had two marks on their faces.

All the chatter and stares vanished, leaving only a chorus of sighs.