Chapter 4: Red Mark on the Wrist

Everything that happened after Xie Lingyu entered the main courtyard felt strange.

First, he heard laughter coming from the room from afar, separated only by the crabapple blossoms. As he drew closer, it turned into an angry huff, as if someone was venting frustration in response to something.

…What were they doing awake so late at night?

Normally, at this hour, they should have been fast asleep.

Standing still at the door, the sounds suddenly stopped, and it remained quiet for a while. Just as he raised his hand to knock, a crashing noise abruptly came from inside.

Xie Lingyu frowned slightly. Without time to think, he pushed the door open and entered. Inside, the young girl was wrapped in a blanket, curled into a ball, sitting properly by the bedside.

Apart from her slightly flushed face, she seemed fine.

“What is Junior Sister doing?”

He lowered his gaze and was about to pick up the object on the floor when he suddenly sensed the girl rushing over. In the moment he looked up, she had already lunged toward him.

Xie Lingyu was taken aback and instinctively caught her. As they fell to the ground, his palm supported her slender waist.

The girl was unusually close to him. Her delicate, pale fingers pressed against his shoulders, and a faint medicinal scent mingled with the fragrance of crabapple blossoms filled his senses.

She clutched the Glazed Mirror she had snatched from his hand, visibly relieved. Raising her eyes, she met his gaze.

Her clear amber eyes instantly stiffened.

The next moment, she hastily let go, stood up, and quickly took several steps backward until she bumped into the screen, as if she had accidentally touched something she despised.

The room was dark, making it hard to discern the girl’s expression. Only faintly could he see her clenching her fists, her tone heavy and tense.

“You… what are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

After two seconds of silence, Xie Lingyu lowered his lashes, stood up from the floor, and brushed his sleeves. His tone was calm. “The alchemist who refined the Elixir in the jade box just informed me that his disciple misplaced the Jade Slip containing the instructions for its use. I came to replace it.”

Sang Ying immediately understood—no wonder there was such a Glazed Mirror in the box.

“Wait a moment.”

With those words, Sang Ying turned around, opened the Glazed Mirror, and quickly explained to the chaotic group chat that she was not the owner, that she had merely found the Glazed Mirror, and that she was now returning it to its rightful owner.

Only then did the fellow cultivators in the group calm down.

Just as Sang Ying was about to close the Glazed Mirror, Cave Master Cai Xia suddenly spoke up: [“Meeting by chance is fate. Fellow Daoist, why not use your own account to join the group? You can chat with us when you have free time.”]

White Cat Swordsman quickly followed: [“Yes, yes, the group members are very friendly. If you have any difficulties, you can tell everyone, and fellow Daoists will work together to help you solve them.”]

Hermit Tian Hu: [“Indeed, indeed.”]

Delivery Heavenly Venerable: [“+1”]

Daoist Bukong: [“+2”]

Stock-Buying Demon Emperor: [“+3”]

Sang Ying: [“…Are you all just looking for gossip?”]

Cave Master Cai Xia: [“Hehe”]

White Cat Swordsman: [“Hehe”]

Hermit Tian Hu: [“Hehe”]

Although she knew these strange cultivators clearly just wanted to join in the fun and gossip, Sang Ying still took out her own Glazed Mirror.

She stole a glance toward the door. The young man in white stood there, quiet and aloof.

And she also wanted to know… what exactly he meant.

Cave Master Cai Xia added her as a friend and pulled her into the group. By now, Sang Ying had calmed down. She walked over to the young man and handed the Glazed Mirror back to him.

Xie Lingyu opened his palm, revealing a jade slip lying there. Sang Ying picked it up, paused slightly, then tightened her grip on the now-warmed slip.

The task was done, but the young man did not leave, still standing beneath the flower-covered corridor as clear moonlight spilled along the eaves.

Sang Ying asked in confusion, “Is there something else?”

Xie Lingyu replied calmly, “I will be leaving tomorrow morning and will return in about seven days.”

Sang Ying said, “Oh.”

In the past, Xie Lingyu would always inform her before going out, so Sang Ying was already accustomed to it and didn’t pay much attention.

She lowered her head to look at the shadows on the ground. The sprain in her ankle had healed completely after a night’s sleep. As she slowly stepped on the shadows of the begonia flowers, she suddenly noticed two tufts of hair sticking up from the top of her own shadow, swaying in the breeze.

?!

Sang Ying immediately covered her head.

Xie Lingyu was about to leave but paused when he saw this. “What’s wrong?”

Sang Ying flustered and casually made up an excuse, “It’s nothing, I’m just feeling a bit uncomfortable because my menstrual period has arrived. I’ll head back to my room first.”

After saying this, she turned and ran back into her room, closing the door behind her.

Sang Ying rushed to the dressing table and looked in the mirror. Her hair was a messy bird’s nest from sleeping, with two strands sticking up like little antennae.

…No wonder Xie Lingyu, who was usually unflappable, had looked so startled when he first saw her earlier. From his perspective, it must have looked like a female ghost lunging at him. If it were her, she’d be scared too.

Hugging a soft pillow, she flopped back onto the bed, her face filled with utter despair.

But soon, something even more despairing happened. The excuse she had just casually made had come true—her menstrual period had actually arrived.

Sang Ying curled up listlessly under the covers, her hands and feet icy cold, her face pale from the pain.

She had always been frail, and each menstrual period was difficult to endure. Today, having caught a chill in Wanbing Valley, her period had arrived early, and the pain in her abdomen was worse than usual.

Her mind was also muddled, and the bedding refused to warm up, especially the section below her legs, which felt like an ice cave.

Sang Ying curled up under the covers, shrinking into a shrimp-like ball.

In her dazed state, she thought of Xie Lingyu again.

Since childhood, she had been weak and sickly, carefully raised on Minghua Mountain. Her father forbade her from going out or interacting with others, so aside from her father, the only people close to her were her three senior brothers.

With no women around her, this meant she had little understanding of physiological matters, as no one had ever told her.

During her first menstrual period, she had also experienced unbearable abdominal pain and, seeing the blood, thought she was dying. She curled up in a ball, secretly wiping away tears.

It was Xie Lingyu who noticed she had gotten up late and came knocking on her door. Hearing the hint of tears in her voice, he sensed something was wrong.

At the time, he was only fifteen or sixteen years old. Though steady in nature and reliable in his actions, it was his first time encountering such a matter concerning a young girl.

Seeing the young girl experiencing her first menstrual period clutching a bloodstained blanket while tearfully uttering what she thought were her last words, the young man was momentarily at a loss.

“…Don’t cry, junior sister. You won’t die.”

He spoke softly, lifting Sang Ying out of the blanket, finding her clean clothes, and placing her in the inner room.

From behind the screen, his voice faltered as he explained that this was a woman’s menstrual period, not a terminal illness.

Realizing she had made a fuss over nothing, Sang Ying calmed down, though her nose was red from crying so hard, and she sniffled from time to time.

When she came out after changing her clothes, the young man had already replaced the sheets and blankets on the bed with a fresh set and was sitting at the table sewing something.

Seeing her emerge, he averted his gaze slightly and handed her a stack of white cloth strips.

Sang Ying stared blankly at the soft white cloth strip in her hand—it was very soft, with cotton padding inside.

“What is this? Why are you giving me this?”

The young man’s eyelashes trembled slightly. After a long silence, he spoke with difficulty, “Junior Sister… place this… down there…”

Sang Ying’s tear-dazed mind suddenly clicked. She realized he meant for her to place the cloth strip where she was bleeding. Her ears flushed red instantly, and before he could finish, she clutched the cloth strip and hurried back behind the screen.

After dawdling for another while, she finally emerged. The young man stood by the table, holding his sword. On the table was a steaming bowl of ginger and brown sugar water, floating with red dates and longan.

“I’ve already informed our martial uncle. You don’t need to attend classes today. Drink the ginger sugar water and rest.”

“…Don’t you dare tell anyone about what happened today.”

“Mm.”

Only then did Sang Ying feel at ease. It was already embarrassing enough that Xie Lingyu had seen her in that state. If word got out, how could she maintain her reputation as the boss of Minghua Mountain?

Sitting back on the bed, Sang Ying held the small bowl and sipped slowly. The ginger warmed her body, but she still felt listless. She slumped back into the blankets, curling up.

Suddenly, a sharp pain struck, and she curled her body tighter, her face pale as she bit her lip.

Today was an important class day. The young man, about to leave, paused. “Does it hurt badly?”

“Mm… Of course not! I-I’m just a little cold. This blanket is too thin.”

How could Sang Ying, who prided herself as the boss of Green Lamp Peak on Minghua Mountain, admit that she had been defeated by a mere menstrual period? Even with her face deathly pale from pain, her mouth remained stubborn.

The young man fell silent for a few breaths, then walked over. He lifted the edge of the blanket, took out one of her hands, and pressed his fingers against her slender, pale wrist.

Sang Ying blinked, then suddenly seemed to understand something again, wearing an expression of deep betrayal. “Xie Lingyu, you liar!”

The young man looked up: ?

He was puzzled. “What did I lie to you about?”

Sang Ying hugged her small pillow, gazing sorrowfully at the ceiling. “It’s clearly a terminal illness, and you still lied to me, saying it wasn’t. I knew it couldn’t hurt this much otherwise. Sigh, did you remember everything I told you earlier? Make sure to find me a nice place to bury me. I won’t be able to sleep if it’s ugly.”

The young man: “…I didn’t lie to you. It really isn’t.”

Sang Ying: “Then why are you taking my pulse? Isn’t it because I’m sick that…”

The young man sighed softly, adjusted his fingers, and shifted from a pulse-taking posture to simply holding her hand.

Their palms pressed together, warm Spiritual Power flowing into her Meridians. The warmth spread through her limbs, thawing her icy hands and feet and easing much of the pain.

Sang Ying was slightly stunned. She looked up and saw his cool, pale profile—aloof and serene. He tugged the blanket corner higher and tightened his fingers slightly.

He set his sword aside and leaned gently against the edge of the bed, his voice clear and low.

“Sleep, Junior Sister.”

…

Perhaps the colder one feels, the more they recall the warmest moments, and the more they experience that same, immersive warmth.

Her consciousness grew hazy. Sang Ying gradually felt her body wasn’t as cold anymore. A warm, gentle heat enveloped her like a soft blanket, soothing her cramping abdomen and easing the pain.

So warm…

Sang Ying hugged her warm pillow tightly against her chest, pressing her cheek against it and nuzzling softly.

For some reason, the usually soft pillow felt hard and unyielding, growing increasingly rigid, making it uncomfortable to hold. In her sleep, Sang Ying furrowed her brows, feeling a bit displeased, but she kept holding onto it for its warmth.

Hmm… I’ll have to get a new pillow tomorrow.

The next day, having slept soundly, Sang Ying emerged from the blankets with tousled hair. She lingered in bed, wrapped in the quilt for a while longer before finally getting up to wash.

Jingxi came in to help her comb her hair. Resting her chin on her hand, Sang Ying fiddled with the floral hairpins in the box and noticed a faint red mark on the inside of her wrist. She glanced at it but paid it no mind, shifting her gaze away.

Her skin was delicate and fair, easily showing marks from even the slightest bump or scrape. She figured it must have been from tossing and turning in her sleep the night before, and it would fade on its own in time.

After breakfast, Jingxi brought over a bowl of hot ginger medicinal soup. “Having a cold constitution during your Menstrual Period must be quite uncomfortable. This is an ancient restorative formula from a pharmacist—it took two hours to brew. Please drink some to warm yourself, Madam.”

Sang Ying was taken aback for a moment, then asked in confusion, “How did you know I’m on my Menstrual Period?”