The Smiling, Proud Wanderer: From the Moment He Picked Up Qu Feiyan

At the hour of Xu (7-9 PM), the night had already fallen.

After having dinner with the two girls, Shen An put down his chopsticks and bowl.

"I'll go to Shigu Academy again. You should all get some rest."

Tomorrow is the day of the decisive battle. Although he has made full preparations, he still plans to take advantage of the last night to go to the agreed place to confirm everything and make sure that nothing goes wrong.

Before he could finish speaking, Qu Feiyan jumped up like a joyful little deer, naturally grabbing his arm and tilting her head up: "I want to go too!"

Her movements were so practiced, her tone so intimate, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Shen An glanced at her helplessly. This girl was good no matter what, she just couldn't suppress her playful and mischievous nature.

His gaze shifted to the other side, where Wang Xiaocao had silently stood up and begun clearing the dishes. She kept her head down, her long eyelashes casting shadows under her eyelids, making it impossible to see her expression.

"Little Grass, aren't you going?" Shen An asked.

Wang Xiaocao paused slightly in her tidying up. Without looking up, she replied in a voice barely audible, "No... Young Master, I... I'm a little tired and want to rest early."

"Alright then, don't overwork yourself." Shen An didn't think much of it, assuming she was either really tired or didn't want to go out, and instructed her, "Leave these things for now, you can pack them up tomorrow. Go back to your room and rest early."

"Mm." Wang Xiaocao nodded gently and put down the bowl and plate in her hands.

She always obeyed Shen An's words without ever disobeying him.

"Brother An, let's go quickly!" Qu Feiyan couldn't wait any longer. She grabbed Shen An's arm and started walking out, turning back to make a playful face at Wang Xiaocao as she went. "Sister Xiaocao, we'll be right back. Don't be scared being home alone!"

Wang Xiaocao did not respond.

She simply stood there, watching the tall and short, intimately close figures walk away and disappear through the door.

Qu Feiyan's silvery laughter and Shen An's slightly indulgent yet helpless words drifted back into the courtyard on the evening breeze, each word landing on her heart.

"...Slow down, watch your step."

"Okay, okay, Brother An, you're so long-winded!"

"..."

Only when the sound had completely faded away and the courtyard returned to silence did Wang Xiaocao slowly straighten up.

In the empty courtyard, only her lonely figure remained.

A cool evening breeze swept by, ruffling the stray hairs at her temples.

She looked up at the cold crescent moon in the sky and felt that the moonlight carried an indescribable sense of desolation.

It's all the moon's fault; it has tainted her heart with desolation.

Sorrow welled up within me, but I had nowhere to turn to express it.

Somehow, when she came to her senses, she was already sitting in front of the seven-stringed zither.

The young master personally bought this zither for her after she expressed her preference for it.

Wang Xiaocao reached out and stroked the instrument in a daze, the joy of that day flashing before her eyes.

The zither is the voice of the heart.

She still remembered what the young master had said.

But now, young master, are you still willing to listen to the little grass's heartfelt words?

More than a month has passed, and her fingers, which were originally rough and dark from farm work, are now as white and delicate as jade.

These hands no longer need to touch the soil or crops. She is living a life she never dared to dream of before. She should be grateful and content.

But why does my heart still ache so much?

Her slender, pale fingertips gently touched the cool strings, and she slowly closed her eyes. In the darkness, the scene of Shen An and Qu Feiyan laughing and playing together, interacting in perfect harmony, kept replaying in her mind, over and over again.

That lively and bright girl could act coquettishly without restraint and could confidently hold his arm, and he always responded with gentle indulgence.

They stood together, so harmonious, so perfectly matched.

They are a perfect match, a match made in heaven.

And what about himself? He was nothing more than a burden who had nowhere else to go and was taken in by the young master out of kindness.

She tilted her head back, straining to open her eyes wide, trying to hold back the tears that were about to spill.

She didn't want to cry. She told herself that the young master had already shown her immense kindness, and she couldn't ask for more. However, the deep-seated sense of inferiority and despair lingered.

Her fingers finally moved.

"Zheng—"

A discordant note, trembling with suppressed emotion and a sob, flowed from the strings, sounding particularly jarring in the silent night. Then came a second, a third… scattered notes fell like pearls from a broken string, scattering haphazardly.

Gradually, the scattered notes merged into a piece of music. There was no stirring melody, no dazzling technique, only a deep-seated sorrow and desolation.

The music was plaintive and sorrowful, like a lost child crying helplessly in the dark, or a lone blade of grass swaying in the cold wind, telling of its insignificance and hopelessness.

The zither expresses the heart's voice; the young master is indeed right.

Young Master is the best.

She poured all her grievances, all her affections, and all her inferiority complex into the music. Little did she know that this mournful song, piercing the night, would attract an unexpected listener.

Half an hour ago, on a rooftop in Hengyang City, a slender figure stood silently like a ghost. It was none other than Master Mo Da, the leader of the Hengshan Sect, also known as "Xiaoxiang Night Rain".

His signature erhu was not in his hand; he simply stood with his hands behind his back, his cloudy eyes coldly fixed on Bailianfang not far away.

He was well aware of the commotion in the city these days, including "Sword Testing Tournament," "Light Music Fairy," and "A Sword Pact," but he didn't pay much attention to it.

But when he heard that the people from Songshan Bailianfang were searching for him everywhere, his vigilance immediately tightened.

Songshan School, Zuo Lengchan.

For him, these three words meant conspiracy, ambition, and endless trouble. Master Mo never relaxed his guard against the so-called "leader" who was ambitious and intended to conquer the Five Sacred Mountains and dominate the martial arts world.

He knew Zuo Lengchan's character all too well; he was a man of two faces, a wolf in sheep's clothing, and would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. His "Thirteen Protectors of Songshan" were even more ruthless and domineering.

Now that the younger generation of the Songshan Sect has made such a big fuss in Hengyang City, even specifically seeking him out, he absolutely refuses to believe that it wasn't orchestrated by Zuo Lengchan. This is no mere playful banter among the younger generation; there must be a deeper scheme hidden behind it.

Rather than passively waiting for the opponent to make a move, it's better to take the initiative and probe their strength. This is the purpose of Master Mo's sneaking here tonight. He wants to see for himself what kind of monsters and demons are hiding in this Hundred Refinements Workshop, and what kind of conspiracy they are brewing.

With a swift movement, he drifted into the courtyard like a falling leaf, the whole process happening silently, without even the guards at the gate noticing.

The once magnificent Bailian Workshop has been turned into something resembling some underground oil-gushing place.

However, one cannot blame the guards for Boiling Mist. If they could prevent Tian Boguang and Mo Da from infiltrating, they might as well establish their own faction.

Just as Mo Da was preparing to delve deeper into the investigation, a burst of music, like mercury spilling onto the ground, entered his ears without warning.