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

**Chapter 77: Trepidation** Luo Sheng and He Lian Mian Mian were whispering secrets to each other. No one really knew what was said, but after a long while, Luo Sheng left with a scowl. That troublesome girl... with such a sharp mind, does she really need him to look after her? He Lian Mian Mian watched as Luo Sheng departed, a smile playing on her lips. Carefully smoothing her clothes, she returned to the school at a leisurely pace. As expected, Ning Song Wu was the first to greet her upon her return, "Do you know Senior Brother Zi Sheng? What did he say to you just now?" He Lian Mian Mian answered openly, "He's a distant relative. We don't usually keep in touch, so he was a bit excited to see that I've joined Beifa." "You're actually Senior Brother Zi Sheng's distant kin?" Ning Song Wu propped her chin with her hand, lost in thought. "What a small world... Senior Brother Zi Sheng must be from a noble family, right?" Lan Ze, seated nearby, overheard and turned to Ning Song Wu with a mocking smile. "Noble family? You're really underestimating your Senior Brother Zi Sheng, aren't you? Have you been clueless in Rongku Pavilion for three years? He's royalty, the third son of the current emperor!" "What?" Ning Song Wu was taken aback. "Enough!" He Lian Mian Mian admonished Lan Ze, cutting off his biting words. Her normally innocent eyes now exuded a regal authority as she glared at him, before casting a worried glance at Ning Song Wu. Uncharacteristically, Ning Song Wu didn't immediately get into a spat with Lan Ze; instead, she sat there staring blankly. "Ning Song Wu, are you okay?" He Lian Mian Mian asked with concern. Ning Song Wu knitted her brows, shaking her head. "It's nothing… she's right…" "Ning Song Wu…" Ning Song Wu choked up, her voice tinged with tears. "I'm just afraid that Master doesn't want me anymore..." It was only after arriving at Hong Fei Pavilion that she realized she wasn't much different from others, perhaps even inferior in some ways. Before, she had the status of being the disciple of the master of Rongku Pavilion. But now, what did she have? More than ten days had passed, and Master hadn't come to see her even once. Why? Why? Why didn't Master come to see her? Was Master really planning to leave her forever at Hong Fei Pavilion?! He Lian Mian Mian pulled out a handkerchief, gently wiping away Ning Song Wu's tears. *By the Swordsmith Pool under the Southwest Peak.* "Ran Fan Yin, you should rest." Jiang Yue had come to persuade Ran Fan Yin yet again, the worry in her brows increasing. The stone doors of the Swordsmith Pool were shut tight. Inside, it was unbearably hot, the searing heat making one feel nauseous. Despite the snow and ice outside, Jiang Yue wore only a light robe with sleeves rolled high; and even in such sparse clothing, her back was drenched with sweat. Ran Fan Yin's condition was even worse. Jiang Yue had spent over a hundred years there and still found it hard to adapt; Ran Fan Yin, being a woman, was unaccustomed to such endurance. Her hair was matted with sweat, droplets falling steadily down her cheeks, and the engraving tool in her hand trembled incessantly. "There's only a bit more to go. It'll be ready for firing tonight." Ran Fan Yin's voice was hoarse. Jiang Yue handed over a cup of water, speaking helplessly, "How many days haven't you slept? It's just a sword mold. Are you really going to be this meticulous about its appearance?" The nearly completed mud mold revealed the intricate shape of a sword about three feet and three inches long. The sword bore luxurious and stunning phoenix motifs, poised as if ready to soar, exquisitely captivating. "The last time I worked on a sword mold was back when I was learning the craft at Hong Fei Pavilion as a child. I haven't done this in years, so naturally, I need to put in more effort. If I left it to Senior Brother, it'd be done in two days at most." Ran Fan Yin spoke at length, a rarity for her, her demeanor soft and earnest. But her eyes, usually as clear as thawed tea, were frighteningly red, with bloodshot rings encircling her light pupils. "Once this is done, go rest at home for a few days before coming back. Do you need the ore for the sword blade from my supply, or..." "No, I'll use mine." Jiang Yue raised a brow. "Yours? You've got hidden swordsmith stones?" But then she realized something, tapping her forehead. "Wait! Could it be... that one... from back then, the one Master gave you?" Ran Fan Yin nodded, sending two crystalline beads of sweat rolling down with her motion. "That's the ceremonial gift from Master. Are you sure you want to use such a precious swordsmith stone on this sword?" "Things only have value when put to use. If that stone isn't forged into a sword, it'll forever remain just a useless rock." Ran Fan Yin's tone was indifferent, as if discussing a stone that wasn't hers. The swordsmith stone Hong Sheng Cen gifted Ran Fan Yin was as significant as the sword Ran Fan Yin gave to Zi Sheng and Cen Ran, or as precious as Ning Song Wu's Flowing Jade—a significant token of the master's gifts. Never mind the sentimental value, the stone itself was unparalleled, its material unmatched anywhere in the world. Anything Hong Sheng Cen chose to give was always extraordinary. Jiang Yue was astounded; if this sword were to be forged, it would surely surpass any famous sword in existence. Was Ran Fan Yin really planning to give such a sword to a child? Had she spent too long in the Swordsmith Pool, and her mind succumbed to its heat? "Ah..." Suddenly, Ran Fan Yin felt a sharp pain in her head and pressed her fingers to her temples, closing her eyes tightly. Jiang Yue noticed and could only pat Ran Fan Yin's shoulder, sending over some true energy. If Ran Fan Yin continued like this, even a body of iron would break. She'd had several headaches recently and even fainted one night. Seeing this, Jiang Yue's heart felt anything but easy. "Your disciple had better not let you down, or else how is any of this worth it?" Jiang Yue turned towards the pool, shaking her head at the sight of her own molten creation. That night, Ran Fan Yin finally watched the sword mold enter the furnace, allowing herself a moment of relief as exhaustion hit her in waves. Her formidable inner strength and unusual vigor had gotten her through these endless days and nights without rest. Jiang Yue escorted her to the door of the Swordsmith Pool, offering a few words of advice before retreating back inside, closing the stone doors behind her. People saw Jiang Yue as elegant and polished, like wind through the woods, but they didn't realize that she too had endured countless nights at the Swordsmith Pool to forge renowned swords. Ran Fan Yin initially planned to return to Rongku Pavilion for a long-awaited bath, but images of Ning Song Wu kept surfacing in her mind. The last she saw of the girl, Ning Song Wu was sitting forlornly in the Plum Garden. It had been days since then, and Ran Fan Yin wondered how she was faring at Hong Fei Pavilion. Just like three years prior, Ran Fan Yin wanted to see Ning Song Wu, even if only to watch her sleep peacefully through a window. She realized she might have overlooked Ning Song Wu's emotional state with the change from Rongku Pavilion to Hong Fei Pavilion. Draped in white robes and flowing hair, Ran Fan Yin's steady, unhurried steps left footprints trailing from the Swordsmith Pool to Hong Fei Pavilion atop the Southeast Peak... In truth, Ran Fan Yin wasn't sure which room Ning Song Wu resided in among all the disciples' quarters. Yet one window stood out, its light shining brightly against the rest, drawing the eye. Ran Fan Yin had a gut feeling that Ning Song Wu was there. Trusting her instinct, she moved to investigate. With the window left slightly ajar, Ran Fan Yin peeked inside, her gaze immediately softening. Ning Song Wu's tiny frame sat poised on a high chair, her legs dangling and swaying to and fro since they couldn't quite reach the floor, wrapped in a thick white mink coat. A book lay open on the table before her, and despite the evident fatigue in her eyes, she was diligently taking notes, striving to stay awake. Having missed critical growth periods due to hardships as a child, Ning Song Wu was smaller than her peers, appearing even more frail now. Not having seen her for over ten days, Ran Fan Yin noticed she had grown noticeably thinner. Ran Fan Yin didn't intend to call her out, wanting only to quietly watch her apprentice for a while. However, even in her exhaustion, Ning Song Wu's senses were sharp. She suddenly glanced up, her eyes locking with Ran Fan Yin’s. "Master... Master!" The sight of her snapped Ning Song Wu wide awake, a burst of joy surging through her. She leapt from her chair to greet Ran Fan Yin, only to misstep and hit the ground hard. In an instant, Ran Fan Yin was beside her, moving so swiftly one could hardly see how she got there, tenderly helping Ning Song Wu to her feet. "Master!" Despite the pain from the fall, Ning Song Wu scrambled up and flung herself into Ran Fan Yin's arms, holding her tightly with no intention of letting go, overcome with emotion. Ran Fan Yin hugged Ning Song Wu's fragile back, her brow furrowed slightly. Was life here not treating her well? "Master... I've missed you... I've missed you so much..." Unable to contain herself, Ning Song Wu’s longing erupted, tears flowing as she clung tightly to Ran Fan Yin, refusing to let go. Ran Fan Yin’s sharp senses picked up someone else watching them. She turned her gaze. He Lian Mian Mian, awakened by Ning Song Wu's call of "Master," peeked curiously at the duo. So this was Exalted Ran Fan Yin—the aura was unmistakably unique, even more so than Sister Cen Ran, exuding an ethereal beauty. But why did she keep staring at her? Ran Fan Yin and He Lian Mian Mian locked eyes for a moment before Ran Fan Yin suddenly spoke, "Sorry for disturbing your rest. I'll take Ning Song Wu outside." With that, Ran Fan Yin maintained her posture while lifting Ning Song Wu. In a flash, they vanished from the room, leaving the window wide open, cold wind streaming in through the empty space. He Lian Mian Mian raised an eyebrow, nodding as if she understood something. Ah, the Exalted must have been shy about being seen.