For now, this Grand Elder of the Ye Ling Sect remained a top-tier existence, as immovable as the anchor stone of the sect. But at this rate, his day of decline was not far off, unless he chanced upon some extraordinary fortune before things deteriorated to their worst.

In a sense, Wei Zhao's very arrival was itself a stroke of extraordinary fortune.

Unfortunately, Wei Zhao had no intention of bringing the man any such fortune. Ye Yixing was indeed Duanmu Yu's grand-master, and for her sake, Wei Zhao would in theory show him a measure of goodwill—but only on one precondition: that he found the man agreeable.

And at present, thanks to what had befallen Duanmu Yu, there was practically no one in the entire Ye Ling Sect who found favor in Wei Zhao's eyes, Ye Yixing the Grand Elder included. If the old bastard claimed to know nothing at all about Duanmu Yu being coerced over the Spirit Perception Grass, Wei Zhao simply did not believe it.

Tacit consent—that was Ye Yixing's stance. And that being so, he would have to pay the corresponding price.

Of course, for Duanmu Yu's sake, Wei Zhao would not impose any additional punishment on him. Otherwise, even if the man were a mid-Nascent Soul expert, he would have no power to fight back before Wei Zhao.

Wei Zhao showed little interest; Ye Yixing, for his part, was full of wariness. In his current state, a Bing Wushuang at the peak of early Nascent Soul was already more than he could handle, and add to that a Wei Zhao whose depths were utterly unknown—if blows were exchanged, he had no chance of victory whatsoever.

With both sides in such a frame of mind, a few exchanges of pleasantries quickly lapsed into an awkward silence. Like Ye Qingguo, Ye Yixing now regarded getting Wei Zhao and Bing Wushuang out the door as the most important thing at hand; until then, he could not rest easy.

"Since there's nothing else, I'll take my leave," Wei Zhao said. He was not a man who failed to read the room, and he knew the goal of standing up for Duanmu Yu had been achieved. Staying longer would only overshoot the mark, so he called Bing Wushuang and made ready to depart.

"Very well. Safe journey to you both, Fellow Daoists—forgive this old man for not seeing you off further." Ye Yixing and the others plainly heaved a sigh of relief.

Just then, Duanmu Yu suddenly called him back. "Wait. You've come all this way to see me—rare enough as it is—and had to run into all this trouble besides. As the host here, at the very least you should let me entertain you before you go, shouldn't you?"

"This... is it proper?" Wei Zhao glanced at Ye Yixing and the rest.

"Proper, quite proper—it's only right." Ye Yixing and the others nodded hurriedly. They were nursing guilty consciences at that moment; so long as Duanmu Yu's request was not too outrageous, they had no choice but to agree.

The Tingyu Pavilion was one of the many standalone buildings of the Ye Ling Sect. Apart from the rather serene scenery around it, there was nothing particularly special about it—unless one counted the fact that its master was Duanmu Yu.

As a woman, no matter how masculine her manner of doing things, she could never change the softer, more sentimental side in her heart. That side showed itself but little in Duanmu Yu, yet the furnishings of the Tingyu Pavilion were enough to reveal a hint of it.

"Hey, I thought your place would be like ours—so you do have a bit of womanly charm about you after all." Wei Zhao looked around with some surprise.

"..." Duanmu Yu shot him a rather aggrieved look. "I am a woman, after all, aren't I? Don't tell me that in your eyes I'm really some iron-blooded, red-blooded man?"

"Not quite that far—more of a manly woman." Wei Zhao laughed heartily. As their friendship had deepened day by day, their manner of speaking to each other had plainly grown more familiar; otherwise he would never have made such a joke offhand.

"Manly woman?" Duanmu Yu frowned, taking a moment to digest the meaning of this word from the secular world. Then the corner of her mouth suddenly curved. "Wait here a moment. I'm going to change my clothes."

"Change clothes?" Wei Zhao was taken aback. But Duanmu Yu gave him no chance to ask, turning and heading into her bedroom, leaving him alone to wait in the pavilion outside. As for Bing Wushuang, she had not followed; she had stayed at the Divine Leaf Hall to be entertained by Ye Yixing and the others. Anyone with eyes could see that Duanmu Yu meant to entertain Wei Zhao alone, and a person as tactful as Bing Wushuang would naturally not tag along to play the third wheel.

The time it takes an incense stick to burn later, when Duanmu Yu reappeared before him, Wei Zhao was struck utterly dumb.

In truth, there was nothing particularly special about it—merely a plain-colored lady's gown of a kind extremely common in the Tai Gu Small Jianghu. Yet worn now by Duanmu Yu, it had a singular charm, a charm rarely seen on other women, one of a kind.

Valiant spirit and tender beauty—Duanmu Yu in that plain-colored lady's gown blended the two to perfection. With her natural looks, she would surely have cut a fine figure in any clothes; in the secular-world women's wear Wei Zhao had given her, she had been a sight to feast the eyes on. But it had to be said: the Duanmu Yu before him now was the most beautiful Duanmu Yu of all.

In her, Wei Zhao saw for the first time a truly genuine womanly charm.

"What? Does it look awkward?" Duanmu Yu felt a touch nervous at Wei Zhao's strange expression. Given her style, she seldom dressed like this—perhaps not even once a year—and today was a special favor granted to Wei Zhao.

"Uh... no, it looks quite nice." Wei Zhao pinched his nose awkwardly. Beauties had always thronged his side; his immunity to them had long since reached grandmaster level, so by rights he should not have worn such a dumbstruck look. But the contrast between Duanmu Yu now and a moment ago was simply too great—any normal person would have gaped, especially a man in the prime of his hot-blooded youth.

"Is that so?" For the first time in her life, Duanmu Yu blushed. She hurriedly turned away and busied herself pouring tea to cover it. "This is a one-leaf-green I just brewed—a fine tea unique to our Ye Ling Sect, not to be bought anywhere outside. Have a taste."

"A one-night stand?" Wei Zhao's expression instantly turned exceedingly peculiar.

"What?" Duanmu Yu did not follow.

"Nothing..." Wei Zhao was at once sweating. Good thing she doesn't know what that word means, he thought; otherwise she might have taken it for him making a pass at her. He took the teacup and sipped. "I don't know much about tea, but yours truly leaves a fragrance on the lips and a lingering aftertaste. Drink tea, look at the lake view—and if there were some music to listen to as well, it would be perfect."

"You want to hear music?" Duanmu Yu glanced at him, then turned and walked to the side, drawing back a curtain. Wei Zhao had assumed it was merely another table, but beneath the curtain was a guqin.

Melodious notes rose. Watching Duanmu Yu's absorbed manner as she played, Wei Zhao's lips could not help curving into a playful arc. Today's Duanmu Yu was truly a different person from the one of before.

He was somewhat unaccustomed to it, true, but it had to be said that at this moment Duanmu Yu did carry a certain air of a classical celestial being; even Wei Zhao could not help feeling a little enchanted. Yet deeper down, he was more puzzled than anything—what wind is blowing today? (To be continued.)