Chapter 17: Senior Brother Part 1

The somewhat unreal sensation at her fingertips made Xun Changqing’s heart skip a beat. It was just a hidden guard; Wei Lingci probably wouldn’t hold it against her. If she had deceived her, it would be hard to clear up later. After thinking it over, her eyes dimmed slightly as she said, “That’s a hidden guard arranged by my mother consort. She didn’t feel at ease leaving me alone, so she had her follow me. If Master doesn’t like it, I’ll send her back.”

Xun Changqing’s thoughts were in disarray. Wei Lingci found it somewhat amusing. She hadn’t even spoken yet, and her little disciple was already flustered and losing composure. It was endearing, yet also a bit foolish. She led her step by step along the rugged mountain path. She had long since memorized the arrays in the mountains. Holding her hand tightly, she said leisurely, “Since she’s the Princess Consort’s person, let her stay. She can’t linger by your side, though. Send her to the kitchens to do some odd jobs—nothing too conspicuous.”

The more Wei Lingci accommodated her, the more uneasy Xun Changqing felt. This wasn’t the Wei Lingci she knew.

The mountain path was treacherous. Wei Lingci was accustomed to it, but it was Xun Changqing’s first time, and she was young. She stumbled several times along the way, prompting Wei Lingci to grip her hand even tighter.

Meanwhile, Xun Changqing was still thinking about Lu Hengzhi from earlier, her brows furrowing again. She gazed at the stream flowing down from the mountaintop nearby. The water from the peak was crystal clear, but the people up there probably weren’t nearly as pure.

Just then, Wei Lingci stopped. Xun Changqing turned back to look at her, her bright eyes reflecting the stream—cool yet refreshingly elegant. She couldn’t help but ask, “Master, why did Lu Hengzhi just call you Martial Uncle? Is he Eldest Martial Uncle’s disciple?”

Children were always curious about new things. Wei Lingci explained, “He’s not a formal disciple. He’s a nominal one under your Grand Martial Uncle. By seniority, he calls me Martial Uncle, that’s all.”

……………………………………

Zi Jin stayed behind and was quietly assigned to the large kitchen on the mountain.

Lingyun Mountain rose in a sharp, conical shape. The sect leader’s council hall sat at the very peak, with five courtyards below. Wei Lingci resided in the southernmost one, Purple Ying Pavilion. Aside from her, no one else lived there. When she was away, disciples would come to sweep the grounds but never dared enter her rooms.

Of the remaining four courtyards, two belonged to the sect leader’s other disciples, one to the sect leader himself, and the last to his junior brother, Wang Luoyu.

Xun Changqing was very familiar with Purple Ying Pavilion, but in this life, it was her first time there. She pretended not to know the way and followed closely behind Wei Lingci, not missing a step. The fallen leaves in the courtyard had been swept clean. A few plum blossoms were yet to bloom, giving the scene a desolate beauty.

Standing in the courtyard, she had lived here for a full ten years in her previous life. Now, she felt no attachment to it—only a faint sense of unfamiliarity. This was a place that devoured people. She had been taken away from here, and Wei Lingci had stood under the eaves with hands clasped behind her back, watching impassively.

In this life, they had reunited, and their master-disciple bond was set. She shouldn’t covet Wei Lingci anymore. Surviving was her greatest wish now. Her future was fraught with hardship. She didn’t know if she could trust her father. Perhaps only her mother consort was somewhat reliable.

But Wei Lingci—she could no longer place deep trust in her this lifetime!

She had tried for two years, even disguising herself as a boy to steer her life away from her previous path. She had even planned that in another two years, she and her mother consort would leave the Imperial Capital for the borderlands. Only by leaving the capital could she survive.

Unfortunately, Wei Lingci had still barged into her life. Apart from the timing being different from her past life, everything else was the same. She couldn’t change her fate.

In this vast world, with clouds drifting by, she circled the plum tree in the courtyard, a trace of worry creasing her brow and doubling the melancholy in her heart. How could she alter the direction of her future? She instinctively turned her head to look. The study window had been opened by Wei Lingci. Clad in white with a touch of red, her snow-white robes accentuated her jade-like skin. Behind her stood an ancient bookshelf filled with ink-scented books and poems. There was a newfound resilience in her brows and eyes.

Like the plum blossoms on the verge of blooming in her hand—defiant and unyielding amid wind and frost, ever firm without wilting.

Purple Ying Pavilion was secluded in the south, rarely visited. Wei Lingci disliked having others clean her study, so she busied herself alone for a long time. Xun Changqing stood outside for just as long. She knew from her past life that she couldn’t enter Wei Lingci’s study recklessly, so she abided by those old rules, gazing at the vast sea of clouds and fiddling with a branch in her hand.

The quiet moment was inevitably broken. Someone burst in energetically. The man ahead wore a light blue robe, his long hair tied up, his forehead full and noble, his eyes deep and dark, his face stern and cold. Upon seeing Xun Changqing standing under the plum tree, his steps slowed.

He stopped before her, his gaze flashing with obvious shock before settling into calm indifference. Tall and slender, he looked down at her and stated firmly, “You must be Xun Changqing.”

Wang Pingjun—this was the sect leader’s eldest disciple. Xun Changqing took a small step back, bowed, and as she lowered her eyes, a flicker of hatred passed through them. Her voice carried a hint of shyness: “I am Xun Changqing. And you are?”

She knew exactly who he was, but she had to play dumb. They had never met before, and exposing his identity now would only arouse his suspicions.

“I am Wang Pingjun…” Before he finished, he caught sight of the graceful figure moving in the study. A spark of unusual brilliance lit his clear gaze, softening half the chill. His look toward Xun Changqing gentled as well, as if afraid the child wouldn’t understand. He clarified directly, “I am your master’s senior brother.”

She had to give him face in public, lest others criticize her. Xun Changqing bowed deeply and said crisply, “Eldest Martial Uncle.”

Having acknowledged kinship, Wang Pingjun had no interest in chatting with the child further. He flicked his sleeve and headed toward the study.

Xun Changqing still stood under the tree, watching eagerly. Behind Wang Pingjun followed a chubby boy with a round face, squinted eyes, and green robes. He introduced himself to Xun Changqing: “I’m Zhao Yang, his disciple.” He pointed to Wang Pingjun, who was striding into the room three steps at a time, then grinned, his eyes narrowing into slits. “I’m ten years old, older than you. You should call me senior brother.”