10 - Crazy! Criticizing the Prime Minister for Being a Servant

"Focus on cultivating well, and curb any distracting thoughts." The ethereal voice drifted from the horizon, as elusive as smoke. Lin Yu Xue bit down on her lip hard and, after a long pause, muttered, "Thank you for your guidance, Martial Uncle." What would happen next at the Zhaoyun Hall was no longer important. On Zhu Que's back, one person stood quietly while another clung tightly, gripping Zhu Que's feathers as if they might fall off at any moment. Though it seemed peaceful, Ran Fan Yin's mind was filled with the incessant murmurs of the little girl. 【So there really is a problem with the book. How could my master not save me?】 【Dodged one disaster only to face another. Oh heavens, do you really have to pin this character down? Keeping me alive, are you hindering your fortune?】 Ran Fan Yin had been listening to her babble and couldn't help but let out a light laugh at this point. This child is truly interesting. How did she manage to connect this issue to fortune? And why would the Heavenly Dao be greedy for such trivial wealth? But she had to admit, the girl was right. Lin Yu Xue did indeed make a very foolish attempt on her life, just as she had said, by pushing her off the Zhaoyun Hall. Even thinking about it now, it still seemed so stupid. How could the character in the book have chosen such a dumb disciple? Unlike the adorable little one beside her, who, even without hearing her thoughts, displayed a shy and endearing nature like a cute little beast. Raising her would surely be interesting. Moreover, she could hear the little one’s thoughts. This little creature seemed to have the ability to predict the future. Though it was unclear how much of it was true, one part had already been verified, and with a long life ahead, she had plenty of time to verify the rest. She had really found herself a treasure. A soft, ethereal laughter fell into Ning Song Wu's ear as she gripped Zhu Que's feathers and slowly let go with one hand, touching her ear before looking up at the tall figure beside her. Clad in pale purple robes, fluttering gently in the wind, her lips weren't curved, giving no indication that she had laughed. 【Strange, did I just hear Master laugh? Master, please let me see you smile; even the book didn't mention it much!】 Descriptions of Ran Fan Yin in the book were always cold and aloof, at most a slight curl of the lips, with no joy in her eyes, and especially strict when instructing her disciples. In those early days, Lin Yu Xue's hands were often swollen. As a fellow sword cultivator, Ran Fan Yin knew how to punish without causing serious harm, so Lin Yu Xue's hands were frequently swollen but she still had to practice her sword diligently every day. A chill suddenly surged up her spine, bringing Ning Song Wu back to reality from her fantasy of "Master's smile must be beautiful." 【Oh no, I didn't think about it earlier, but now it's my turn to be punished, isn't it? Waaah...】 Punished? Punished for what? Ran Fan Yin glanced down at the person who had buried their face completely into Zhu Que's feathers, trembling as if recalling some tragic event. She pricked up her ears, but the child's mind was silent except for soft sobbing. Sighing inwardly, Ran Fan Yin flicked the hair cascading in front of her and thought to herself. She would like to see, apart from the Senior Martial Sister, who in the Shangyun Sect could dare punish her little disciple. The two on the bird’s back exchanged not a word, yet inexplicably understood much about each other, flying toward the Chaomu Peak. "Shangyun Sect is located in the central region of the Nine Provinces Continent, with snowy winters and rainy summers, distinct springs and autumns. Ran Fan Yin’s Chaomu Peak is situated at the northwest corner of the sect, with even more distinct seasons, rainy summers in the south, and snowy winters in the north..." This subtitle—what Ning Song Wu named her golden finger, as it was the only function it had—appeared, and she knew they had arrived. The ceremony had lasted all day and was now approaching evening. It was a rainy summer day, and it had recently rained at Chaomu Peak. As the clouds dissipated, the sky displayed a gentle powder-purple hue, as if someone had spread soft, pastel paint from the horizon, coloring the half of the sky visible in the last light of day. Ning Song Wu, who had been clutching Zhu Que’s feathers tightly due to her fear of heights, loosened her grip and straightened up, gazing into the distance, seemingly entranced. She had never seen a sunset from this angle, almost feeling as if she could touch the soft, lingering sky with an outstretched hand. 【If Wang Bo were to witness this scene, he might compose a poem even better than "the autumn waters stretch forever with the long sky" a million times over, perhaps?】 She was used to gazing at the sky from below. Many a night after high school classes ended, she could be found clutching a cup of instant noodles bought earlier, looking out from the school's small balcony at the sky, watching as soft purples and golds spread across the horizon, and then transferring those hues into words on paper. Ran Fan Yin, having once come across the girl’s poetry, knew Ning Song Wu must really like this view, so she let Zhu Que linger in mid-air, accompanying the girl in her gaze at a sunset she had already watched hundreds of times. To tell the truth, it really did feel a bit different this time. Ning Song Wu noticed the bird had stopped flying and knew Ran Fan Yin had done something. She turned her head, eyes meeting another shade of soft purple. Following the line of the robes upward, she saw the gently arched phoenix eyes filled with a warmth even more tender than the sunset, a light smile on red lips, seemingly pleased. 【Master really...is so beautiful...】 【A beauty like poetry, like a painting, like the gentle spring winds of Yangzhou, stirring the heartstrings.】 This soft purple stayed with Ning Song Wu for a long time. Even many years later, when her eyes met that pair of tender, smiling eyes again, she would recall the myriad shades of twilight she saw from Zhu Que’s back, and remember her own spring breeze. Ran Fan Yin, having been praised so unintentionally, felt her mood lift, her smile deepening. Seeing this, Ning Song Wu became more entranced, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. Zhu Que hovered there until dusk fell, the soft purples fading, before descending. Torchlight flickered at the mountaintop, illuminating the area. Standing on solid ground, Ning Song Wu gradually calmed down. Reluctantly, she glanced up at the now pitch-black sky, sighed softly, and after pondering for a moment, asked, "Master, when will I be able to fly up myself?"