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

Chapter 88: Love Ran Fan Yin cradled Ning Song Wu as he made his way to a secluded spot, intending to set her down. However, the child clung tightly to her neck, refusing to let go. "Master... why haven't you come to see me? I miss you so much," Ning Song Wu whispered incessantly in Ran Fan Yin's ear. "I've been busy. Ning Song Wu, you're growing up. You shouldn't be so attached to me anymore," Ran Fan Yin said, tugging Ning Song Wu by her collar and pulling her off him. After spending over ten days at the sword-casting pool without changing clothes, even she was bothered by it and didn't want to soil Ning Song Wu's clothes as well. "Master, was it cold on your way here?" When she had been lying on her master's shoulder, Ning Song Wu noticed her master's exposed neck was as cold as jade, making her heart ache. Ran Fan Yin shook her head. Her internal energy was profound, allowing her to wear thin white robes year-round in the snowy landscape without feeling cold, let alone during that brief nocturnal journey. Standing in front of Ran Fan Yin, Ning Song Wu stubbornly held onto Ran Fan Yin's hand, her delicate fingertips habitually stroked the thin callus on the outside of Ran Fan Yin's right index finger, her eyes fixated unwaveringly on Ran Fan Yin's face. "Master, you look tired. Your eyes are bloodshot." Ran Fan Yin gently patted Ning Song Wu's head, feeling a mix of comfort and heartache. "I'm not tired. Why are you still up so late?" Ning Song Wu pouted, "I've been studying. Master, I can write a bit with my right hand now, and I can draw too. I've secretly been practicing those six sword techniques. Please don't be mad at me." Ran Fan Yin was momentarily speechless, a mix of emotions swelling in her heart—both touched and hurting. Suddenly, Ning Song Wu remembered the conversations she overheard among the disciples when she first entered Hong Fei Pavilion and couldn't resist asking Ran Fan Yin. "Master, I heard all Hong Fei Pavilion disciples might have the chance to learn from one of the three masters. Will you take on a new disciple?" Ning Song Wu asked nervously, gripping Ran Fan Yin's hand even tighter. "There's an opportunity," Ran Fan Yin replied ambiguously. "Master, please don't take another disciple, okay?" Ning Song Wu looked at Ran Fan Yin hopefully yet anxiously. She couldn't bear the thought of her master being gentle with another disciple. Senior brother and sister were different; she didn't care about them, but she cared about any other outsider. In truth, her possessiveness was somewhat reminiscent of Cen Ran in her younger days, though significantly more assertive. The cool moonlight filtered through the gaps in the bamboo leaves, casting a gentle glow upon the ground and imbuing the girl's fair and jade-like face with a gentle halo. The child barely reached her chest in height yet was already growing into a figure that elicited affection. For a rare moment, Ran Fan Yin's lips curled into a smile, like a sudden rainbow appearing amidst a broad expanse of lofty white clouds, creating a moment of breathtaking beauty. Her tone was tinged with what seemed like a promise, deliberate and slow, word by word: "Alright, I won't take another disciple ever again." Ning Song Wu instantly broke into a radiant smile, her happiness bubbling to the surface as she skipped and jumped, holding Ran Fan Yin's hand. "Master, you promise, make sure to remember!" Ran Fan Yin quietly watched Ning Song Wu's antics, her hands busy tidying Ning Song Wu's collar, her gaze suffused with an unusual tenderness. "Master, I can perform the four sword strikes now! Let me practice for you, okay?" Ning Song Wu looked at Ran Fan Yin pleadingly. Seeing Ran Fan Yin nod, she gleefully picked up a branch from the ground and, with precise steps, swung her little arm to effortlessly complete the four strikes. Ning Song Wu turned around, beaming at Ran Fan Yin. Ran Fan Yin stepped forward, enveloping Ning Song Wu in her arms, guiding her hand holding the sword to slowly execute the fifth and sixth techniques. Ning Song Wu's mind was in a daze, repeating the two movements alongside Ran Fan Yin countless times. With the final move concluded, Ran Fan Yin's stance positioned Ning Song Wu entirely within her embrace, the two seeming almost fused into one from afar. Ran Fan Yin quietly asked, "Did you remember?" "Master... will you visit me again?" Ning Song Wu's voice dropped to a whisper, murmuring near Ran Fan Yin's ear, her warm and damp breath breezing against Ran Fan Yin's sensitive ear, turning it noticeably red. "When I have time, I'll visit you at night," Ran Fan Yin replied softly, adding, "To guide your swordplay." "Great! Next time, I'll have mastered the entire six-step sword technique for you to see!" Ran Fan Yin lovingly ruffled the top of Ning Song Wu's head, feeling a surprising anticipation for what this endearing child would look like when she grew up. Such a lovely child would undoubtedly blossom into a beauty capable of causing strife. "Ning Song Wu, remember, you’re to stay in Hong Fei Pavilion for five years. After that, I'll personally come to take you back to Rong Ku Pavilion," Ran Fan Yin promised, her gaze earnest. Ning Song Wu hung affectionately around Ran Fan Yin's neck, cherishing these moments of closeness with her master. The moon shone brightly, a gentle breeze stirred the bamboo forest, casting delicate moonlight shadows on the snow. He Lan Mian Mian was adjusting a fallen candlestick when she suddenly heard a faint sound behind her, like the flutter of clothing and the light footsteps of someone landing. Quickly turning around, He Lan Mian Mian saw none other than Cen Ran, dressed in a plain white crane robe, having evidently just climbed through the window. Her long, supple hair was tied at the ends with a jade ribbon, her refined gaze seemed to carry a hint of dewy moisture. Reflecting, He Lan Mian Mian recalled how Ran Fan Yin's entrance had been utterly silent and swift, realizing that Cen Ran's skills still fell short of Ran Fan Yin’s. Surveying the room, Cen Ran raised an eyebrow in surprise: "You... haven't slept yet? Where's Ning Song Wu?" He Lan Mian Mian smiled sweetly: "Why is Cen Ran here?" "I... came to bring something for Ning Song Wu," Cen Ran replied, shaking the bundle in her hand. Brother Zi Sheng, always one to cause trouble, had taken it upon himself to fetch some garments only to absentmindedly take them back with him. Cen Ran was left exasperated and bemused, unsure what to say about how hard it was to deliver even a simple package to Ning Song Wu. Deciding to come in the middle of the night, Cen Ran planned to drop the items off in Ning Song Wu's residence discreetly. After searching for a while, she spotted Ning Song Wu's name on a plaque by the door of a lit room. "So... where is Ning Song Wu?" Cen Ran inquired again. He Lan Mian Mian giggled as she slowly approached Cen Ran, her height only reaching Cen Ran's chest. Looking into He Lan Mian Mian's beautiful long lashes and eyes, Cen Ran involuntarily took a step back. "Master Ran was here earlier and took Ning Song Wu out." Master? Has Master been here? Cen Ran found it peculiar. But before she could dwell on the thought, the small girl before her captured her attention completely. He Lan Mian Mian continued to approach, inching closer. "Sister, you’re coming from outside; it's chilly. Are your hands cold?" As she spoke, He Lan Mian Mian's small, warm hand suddenly clasped Cen Ran's icy fingers, startling Cen Ran to the point where she pulled her hand back as if electrified. "It's... it's alright..." Whether true or not, Cen Ran felt He Lan Mian Mian was standing too near, a growing sense of discomfort as though being overshadowed despite her being just a child. Cen Ran retreated from He Lan Mian Mian, slowly backing away until her waist met with the windowsill, leaving her with nowhere else to go. Cen Ran awkwardly attempted to speak, "You should rest early. Help me give the package to Ning Song Wu, and I'll head back..." "He Lan Mian Mian, you're so beautiful," said He Lan Mian Mian, her voice clear and melody-like as falling jewels, striking in the quiet night. Upon hearing this, Cen Ran instinctively avoided He Lan Mian Mian's gaze, unable to meet the depth of her lovely eyes, politely replying, "You're beautiful too." "Really? But Cen Ran, you seem quite frightened of me," He Lan Mian Mian teased, her head tilted playfully. "No..." "I like you, Cen Ran. Will you be my master?" Cen Ran's heart skipped at the first part of the sentence, inexplicably quickening its pace. Realizing the little girl was playfully trying to win her favor to become her disciple, she quickly regained composure. Every Northern disciple wished to be taught by the highest masters, and naturally, disciples directly taught by those masters were highly sought after. He Lan Mian Mian was cleverly taking advantage of Cen Ran’s visit to Ning Song Wu. Cen Ran felt a spark of anger as she awkwardly pushed He Lan Mian Mian away, her tone turning stern. "No, without Master Ran's permission, I cannot accept disciples on my own accord." "Oh..." He Lan Mian Mian nodded, her beautiful eyes flickering with thoughts. "That's fine. Honestly, I didn’t really want to be your disciple anyway." "Even better," Cen Ran coldly replied, surprised at He Lan Mian Mian's willingness to drop the matter. Being unable to accept disciples was one thing, but having this girl not want her as a master was another. How could she, a disciple of the greatest master and once one of Hong Fei Pavilion's elite, be dismissed by a mere child? He Lan Mian Mian mischievously twinkled her eyes, continuing with a teasing note in her voice, "I prefer you as my sister. Or perhaps..." lowering her voice, "a beloved companion would be nice too." The room momentarily froze in awkward silence. "What... What?!" Cen Ran could hardly believe her ears. Did she hear correctly? This little girl, who was about as tall as Ning Song Wu and reached no higher than her chest, was suggesting... for her to be her bride?! "I read in a book that gentle and virtuous women like Sister are best suited to be taken home as a bride," He Lan Mian Mian nodded seriously, imagining how gorgeous Cen Ran would look in male attire with her hair tied up, her refined features making a perfect match for a handsome groom. Her father and brother would probably love such a cultured and delicate appearance. "That's for men. You're just a little girl..." He Lan Mian Mian's eyes were filled with a starlit brilliance, shining with an otherworldly glow that took Cen Ran's breath away: "What's the difference? My father told me that anything I desire in this world is for me to have as I please; all things I want are within my grasp." "..." Cen Ran was taken aback, her heart in a turmoil. How could He Lan Mian Mian speak such outrageous things? Such rebellious ideas were utterly unthinkable even for a moment! Shaking her head, Cen Ran tried to calm her racing thoughts. Something was amiss. How could she, having pursued her path for so many years, be unsettled by a child, taking a young girl's jest too seriously? Cen Ran felt as if she had seen a ghost tonight, watching her usual gentle and polite demeanor collapse several times over. Yet, He Lan Mian Mian was a remarkably intelligent child with a graceful bearing and an air of nobility around her eyes and brows. Though her background was somewhat of a mystery, she was undoubtedly bright and worthy of instruction. Oh well, she was bound to visit Ning Song Wu in the future anyway. In the meantime, she could impart some knowledge to this girl, considering it an act of goodwill. "Enough with the nonsense. You must be He Lan Mian Mian, right? In the future, if I have the time, I’ll teach you some things. Is that acceptable?" "Yes! Thank you, Master!" He Lan Mian Mian beamed, her delight making her look like a porcelain doll. "Don’t call me Master. I haven’t accepted you as a disciple." He Lan Mian Mian's smile broadened, "Thank you, Sister." Cen Ran shook her head, thoroughly bested by this child, "Remember, you mustn't speak of this to anyone, not even Ning Song Wu. I'll be off now." It would be trouble if she ran into her master. "Of course, I promise!" He Lan Mian Mian's eyes arched with her smile, wishing she could give Cen Ran a huge hug. However, Cen Ran moved away quickly, darting out of the place at a speed that was several times faster than when she came in, as if fleeing. Both Master Ran and Cen Ran were shy when it came to interactions. But while Master Ran projected a chill that made her feel distant and untouchable, Cen Ran, with her gentle ways, was much easier to tease, often blushing at the slightest provocation. However, Cen Ran didn’t have an easy time in her escape. She had just climbed out the window when she saw Ran Fan Yin standing a short distance away, five steps at the most, looking at her with calm indifference. Ran Fan Yin, clad in ethereal white, looked like an immortal, his hand holding onto the short Ning Song Wu. Cen Ran froze as if she had seen a ghost, her jaw almost hitting the ground: "Mas—Master!"