Chapter 3
Edward Quan ·
But the treasures and spiritual artifacts the sect kept sending piled up like mountains.
I didn’t dare touch them.
Master’s tail kept pushing little treasures into my lap.
At first, Chu She shouted at it.
It responded by ramming the wall.
The backlash made him cough up blood.
To recover, he had to turn a blind eye.
As for the tail, it lay obediently in my arms like a little puppy, letting me apply medicine.
We spent half a month in peace.
Then the sect sent someone to remind me that it was time to choose my spirit pet.
I looked at Master hopefully.
“You have only a few days left to live,” he said coldly. “Why bind a pet to share your life and death?”
The tail in my lap shot upright, preparing another run at the wall.
He raised a hand impatiently.
“…Go.”
His words reminded me of something.
Once a spirit pet acknowledged a master, it could share some of its traits with that person.
I could choose a long-lived turtle.
With that in mind, I followed the other disciples into the mountains.
They wanted wolves, immortal cranes, or other impressive pets.
I went to the pond for an old turtle.
As I fished around, two familiar voices came from behind the rockery.
Fang Ye and our junior disciple.
He was looking at his messaging jade.
“She hasn’t contacted me once. She used to find me every day and tell me interesting things.”
“Is Master treating her harshly?”
Our junior disciple comforted him.
“Didn’t you say her family are servants? Her mother’s a cook. She must be good at enduring hardship.”
“Not like me. My family spoiled me so much that I’ll always have to rely on you.”
Fang Ye sighed and pinched her cheek.
“True.”
She spoke playfully.
“They say dragons beget dragons, phoenixes beget phoenixes. What’s the next line?”
“A rat’s offspring knows how to burrow,” he supplied without hesitation.
She brightened.
“Then Senior Sister must be a rat! Her mother’s only a cook, after all.”
Laughing together, they came around the rockery.
Fang Ye looked up and saw me.
His expression changed slightly.
I greeted him politely.
“Young Master Fang.”
He frowned in disbelief.
“What did you call me?”
We had grown up together.
He’d always considered me his childhood sweetheart, arranging my clothes and daily life to suit his preferences.
The sect had selected us both.
The Fang family even paid my traveling expenses up the mountain.
Madam Fang had told me to take extra care of him.
As she sent me off, Mother had said the same.
“Young Master Fang is your master. Look after him well.”
But he had never needed me to fuss over him.
The boy he’d been hadn’t distinguished between highborn and lowborn.
In summer, his eyes bright, he would find lotus-seed porridge for me.
In winter, he brought me padded clothes.
He had pampered me so much I’d forgotten the difference in our stations.
Hearing him now was like being drenched in cold water.
I woke up.
And realized something.
I really had been distant toward him lately.
With Fang Ye or without him, my life was no different.
Our junior disciple kept smiling.
She hooked her arm through mine, felt my clothes, and picked at the embroidery.
“You must be living so well you’ve forgotten us.”
“You used to care for the pets. You must get along wonderfully with them! Shall we choose little rabbits and kittens together? Please? I’m begging you.”
I shook off her hand and concentrated on the turtles.
“I’m busy. I want this one.”
Fang Ye frowned.
“What nonsense is this? A girl keeping a turtle? I’ll catch a pet for you. What do you want?”
He reached for me. I immediately dodged.
As I bent over the pond, an arm caught my waist.
He sounded displeased.
“Be careful!”
“Are you throwing away your future to sulk?”
He seized my hand and pulled me away, leaving our junior disciple behind.
I couldn’t break free.
He brought me a fine-quality fox and asked whether I liked it.
He was about to push it into my arms and make me form a contract.
Our junior disciple caught up and pointed.
“I like that one!”
He paused, then instinctively handed it to her.
“I’ll get you another.”
He found a spirit dog. The fluffy little creature pressed against my face.
Our junior disciple’s eyes reddened again.
“I miss my dog at home.”
Looking guilty, he took the puppy from me and gave it to her, too.
I stood there, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
One glimpse of her tears, and he couldn’t help favoring her.
So soft-hearted.
Soft as a piece of pork hock.