Chapter 122: Hearthside Chat (Four): You Kneel Here and Listen to Me

As soon as these words were spoken, silence fell all around.

Snow from outside the eaves seemed to sweep into the corridor, filling the air with biting cold.

The words she had just spoken seemed to echo in the corners. Fu Li didn’t notice anything wrong at first and kept lounging sideways, poking at the roasted meat with her chopsticks.

However, the silence dragged on too long. A sudden thought flashed through her mind, and she widened her eyes before sitting up straight abruptly.

She had only been thinking about who else around Qin He was worth mentioning, so she recalled that sister who had died young. But “died young” meant her sister was no longer in this world. Wasn’t bringing it up now just poking at her sore spot?

Fu Li set down her chopsticks extremely lightly and sat on pins and needles.

She had always spoken without thinking and had said hurtful things before, but in the Radiant Palace, what did it matter if she said something wrong? She was the master there—even if wrong, it was right. She never needed to apologize to anyone; those she hurt didn’t deserve a single “sorry” from her.

But not now. This was her sister, her friend. She shouldn’t treat her like that.

Her hands on her knees clenched and unclenched. Fu Li didn’t dare look at Qin He’s expression. A thousand words churned in her chest, but she still didn’t know what to say to make amends.

“I have no secrets either,” Shang Shan spoke up at the critical moment. “A lot of things others don’t know aren’t because I hid them—it’s just that no one ever asked. That’s different….”

She stopped abruptly here and raised a hand to cover her hat as she suddenly remembered that she did have a secret right now.

If she hadn’t realized it, she could have brazenly claimed she had none. But now that she remembered, she couldn’t pretend not to know.

Her master had said not to tell anyone about this, which qualified it as a secret. But she didn’t want to lie or ignore it—what should she do?

Shang Shan’s little face scrunched up as she hesitated and struggled alone. She quietly turned her head to glance at her master sitting beside her. The woman shot her an icy, snow-like glare, the meaning all too clear:

I know what you’re thinking. Stop it. Don’t court death.

“I… I…”

Receiving that eye signal, Shang Shan whipped her head back and rolled her eyes desperately, trying to recall some other secret. It didn’t take her long this time. She raised her hand. “I have a secret! I remembered—I do have one! I really like my master!”

“….” Mu Qian Tan rubbed her temples.

Li Biyuan clicked her tongue a few times and said ambiguously, “Actually, Sister Tan, you’ve done a great job as her master. Look how devoted the Female Protagonist is to you—you’ve completed the task ahead of schedule.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “She’d say she likes even a roadside flower. Confessions from someone so indiscriminate mean nothing.”

With her interruption and the young ones quickly changing the subject, the strange atmosphere from before soon dissipated. Fu Li swiftly glanced at Qin He, took a deep breath, and laughed. “That’s hardly a secret. Anyone can see it.”

Shang Shan blinked in slight surprise, as if finding it astonishing. “Anyone can see it?”

Qin He flipped the meat in her plate, acting as if nothing had happened, and said naturally, “Yeah.”

Even she said so—it must be true. Shang Shan muttered, “I never said it. How did you all know?”

A complicated expression appeared on Fu Li’s face. She turned sideways, grabbed Qin He’s wrist, lowered her body, and gazed at the girl with two sparkling eyes, pinching her voice to call out, “Master, wait for me~”

She immediately dropped the act after performing, hugged her shoulders, and leaned back as if dodging something. “You do this every day. Anyone who isn’t blind can see it.”

“Do I?” Shang Shan looked at Fu Li, then at Qin He. Both wore expressions that said “of course.” She scratched her head and grinned. “Fine, but Qin He, your imitation wasn’t like her. My master would just kick me away directly.”

How was she proud of that? If it were someone else—like Qin He getting kicked by Jiang Zhouyao—she’d probably kneel and reflect for three days and nights on what she’d done wrong to offend her master. As for Fu Li getting kicked… no, nobody dared kick her unless they were tired of living.

But the seemingly aloof Yao’e Immortal actually kicked people? Fu Li had thought that woman would simply disdain everyone and ignore everything around her. She hadn’t expected her to get physical like that.

The chances of getting anything discussable out of this one-track-mind girl were extremely slim. Fu Li waved it off. “Forget it. Even if we all knew, we’ll count it as said. I’m very open-minded.”

Shang Shan: “I approve!”

She had counted it for Shang Shan, and it wasn’t right to make Qin He speak next. That left herself. Fu Li glanced at the woman kneeling diligently beside her roasting meat, rolled up her sleeve with determination, and spoke. “My turn. Alright, I’ll say it now.”

The songstress’s body trembled slightly. A slice of meat slipped from her chopsticks onto the grill, as if her heart had skipped a beat.

Noticing the girl’s gaze upon her—appraising, teasing, carrying a chill that seemed to peel back skin, flesh, and bone—she had nowhere to hide under that stare. Somewhat at a loss, she withdrew her hand, unsure where to put it. She let it hang at her sides, then folded it on her lap. Finally unable to bear the atmosphere, her eyelashes quivered as she stood to leave—only for her wrist to be seized and pressed back to the ground.

“Don’t go, Nan Yayin,” Fu Li stared straight at her, enunciating each word. “You kneel here and listen to me.”