Chapter 87: The Master Who Forsakes Loyalty for Beauty

“Eat, eat, eat—that’s all you ever do! One day you’ll finish off every fruit on this island!” Tianyu glared at Xiaobai, who was clutching a string of wild berries, and began scolding without mercy.

Poor Xiaobai drooped its ears, looking up at him with timid eyes, whimpering softly, looking aggrieved beyond words. But Tianyu’s temper had grown worse by the day; not only did he ignore its pitiful look, he even snatched the berries from its paws.

“No more eating! These are for Jin’er!” he snapped.

Xiaobai smacked its lips twice, then carefully shuffled over to his side, nestled down by his leg, and kept stealing glances at him.

Its master had never been so harsh. It was frightened, and though it still longed to eat, it decided to endure…

Seeing it act so meekly, Tianyu could no longer find an excuse to scold it, yet the restlessness inside him refused to dissipate. Ever since Jin’er left, he had come here every day to practice martial arts, hoping to be the first to know when she returned.

But as the days passed with no sign of her, anxiety gnawed at him, and his temper worsened. Now even the servants kept their distance when he appeared.

If he’d known it would be this painful, he would have gone with her in the first place.

Just then, Xiaobai suddenly stood up, its furry ears pricked, and a strange light flashed in its round eyes.

In the next instant, it let out an excited howl and, with a leap, darted swiftly through the branches above.

Tianyu frowned at its retreating figure, about to scold it for its antics, when his eyes caught a familiar silhouette in the distance.

“Jin’er?!” The berries slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

Overjoyed, Tianyu pushed off the trunk and shot forward, light and swift. In a few bounds, he landed in front of Jin’er and her companions.

By then, Xiaobai had already leapt into Jin’er’s arms, nuzzling her neck and chin, making her giggle uncontrollably.

“Jin’er, you’re finally back!” Tianyu rushed forward, unceremoniously plucked Xiaobai from her embrace and tossed it aside, then pulled the surprised Jin’er into a fierce embrace.

“Awooo!” Xiaobai yelped as it hit the ground, thoroughly disgruntled. Unfortunately, its protest only brought a few muffled laughs from the people behind Jin’er—the two at the center had no time to care.

Fuming, Xiaobai bounced a few times on the spot, scratching the earth with its paws, glaring indignantly at its fickle master.

Still, though angered and itching to bite him, it wisely decided to stay out of the way—for now… The consequences could be dire otherwise.

“Let me go…” Jin’er gasped, nearly unable to breathe in his tight hold.

After a few fruitless struggles, Tianyu finally—reluctantly—let her go.

“Why were you gone so long? I was nearly driven mad waiting for you!” he complained, oblivious to the others nearby.

“I’d say you are mad already!” Jin’er retorted.

At this, the people behind her couldn’t help but snicker.

“What are you laughing at? Don’t you have somewhere to be?!” Tianyu snapped, glowering at them.

They quickly schooled their expressions, bowed respectfully, and hurried off.

With them gone, Tianyu’s expression softened again as he eagerly took Jin’er’s hand, inspecting her up and down, left and right.

Once he was sure she was unharmed, he smiled and said, “Jin’er, you’ve grown more beautiful.”

Jin’er arched a brow and smiled, “Have I? Thank you. But I think you’ve grown uglier.”

“What?” Tianyu blurted out in alarm, “Uglier? How could that be?” He anxiously touched his face.

Jin’er chuckled softly and ignored him, striding ahead.

“Hey, wait for me! Jin’er, you didn’t mean it, did you? Do you really think I’ve gotten uglier?” Tianyu caught up, persistently questioning her.

Seeing how seriously he took her jest, Jin’er couldn’t help but want to laugh. “Alright, I was just teasing you. Look how nervous you are.”

Tianyu paused, then grinned sheepishly. “I knew it. I just get more charming with age—never uglier.”

Watching him shift from anxious to smug in an instant, Jin’er was left speechless.

“Jin’er, you don’t know—ever since you left, I suddenly found myself at a loss all day. For a year, we did everything together—training, eating, playing—I can’t get used to being alone anymore,” Tianyu admitted, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Jin’er pouted, “You insisted on training with me, don’t blame it on me now.”

Tianyu chuckled and, after a lingering look at her, said, “Don’t worry, I won’t blame you—so long as I can always stay by your side.”

Jin’er, walking as if nothing had happened, stopped in her tracks at his last words, staring at him in disbelief. “Stay by my side?”

Was this some kind of joke? She hadn’t asked for any of this, so why did everyone want to cling to her?

Seeing her reaction, Tianyu cocked an eyebrow, resting his chin in his hand as he tilted his head at her. “What? You’re unwilling? Or would you rather be the one clinging to me?”

Jin’er resisted the urge to roll her eyes, smacked her lips, and turned away.

Not worth the argument.

“Hey! What’s with that attitude? I waited here for you every day, day and night, and you don’t even seem to miss me!” Tianyu chased after her, protesting.

“I do, I do. Isn’t that why I’m back?” Jin’er said with a smile, glancing at him.

“Hmph! Doesn’t look like it to me.” Despite his grumbling, a satisfied smile crept onto Tianyu’s face. “Where are you headed? Why not come to my palace? Let me give you a welcome feast.”

Jin’er shook her head. “I need to see Master first. Why don’t you get things ready, and I’ll join you for dinner later?”

“Oh, alright. But I want to spend a bit more time with you. I’ll escort you to the gates of Flower Mist Palace before I leave,” Tianyu said, gazing at her without blinking.

Jin’er smiled lightly and walked on by his side.

The whole way, Tianyu brimmed with joy—a stark contrast to his earlier gloom. Only after he left Jin’er at the palace gates and turned back towards Star Palace did he realize how drastically his mood had changed.

So it was all because of her. Now that she was back, he would never let her leave again.

With that thought, Tianyu smiled and let the matter rest.

“Xiaobai, come here.” He stopped and spread his arms to the little creature on the ground.

Xiaobai looked up at him with round eyes, then leapt lightly into his arms.

His master was finally back to normal. This was the master he liked.

———

“Master, your disciple has returned.” Jin’er stood at the door of Liu Qiansha’s study and spoke gently, seeing him reading a book.

Normally she would have sent a servant to announce her arrival, but today the guards said the island lord had instructed her to come in directly, so she did.

At her voice, Liu Qiansha looked up in surprise, delighted to see Jin’er back. He stood and hurried over.

“My good disciple, you’re back at last!”

Jin’er smiled, nodding. “Yes, I’m back—see? Not a scratch on me.” She even spun in a circle for him.

Liu Qiansha laughed heartily, stroking his beard. “Excellent! That’s my disciple! Come, sit and rest.”

He led her to a chair. Moments later, a servant brought hot tea.

“Tell me everything,” Liu Qiansha urged eagerly, though he’d already heard the Poison Sage was dead—he just didn’t know the details.

Jin’er gave him a brief account of what had happened.

“Impressive. So young, yet already skilled in strategy—taking the myriad poisons sect for your own. Well done!” Liu Qiansha praised her.

“You flatter me, Master,” Jin’er replied modestly, her lips curving.

She caught sight of a book on the desk—The Infinite Destiny—then asked, “Master, are you studying fate again?”

Liu Qiansha smiled. “Just passing the time. Want me to read your fortune?”

Jin’er hesitated, then smiled. “Alright.”

She gave him her birth date and time—those of “Princess Jin’er,” which her mother had once written for her.

She’d never really believed in fortune-telling, having seen enough scam artists on modern streets. But Master was different, and since she’d miraculously arrived in the Five Spirits Continent, where even elemental powers existed, she chose to keep an open mind.

Just then, watching Master calculate, Jin’er saw his expression suddenly change, and he looked up at her sharply.

Her heart skipped a beat—what had he seen?

But in the blink of an eye, Liu Qiansha’s demeanor returned to normal, though his brow remained slightly furrowed.

Jin’er frowned in confusion. At that moment, Liu Qiansha spoke.

“Child, your fate is a hard one.”

Jin’er smiled wryly. “Yes, I’m practically a regular at death’s door.”

Had he really divined that? It did seem accurate, but she’d told him much about her past.

“Your chart is pure yang, with the seven stars—a rarity in a thousand years. In childhood, you faced a great trial; if you survived, though your path be rough, you are destined for greatness,” Liu Qiansha said, eyes flashing with excitement. “But your romantic life will be turbulent.”

Jin’er was taken aback, finding it all somewhat mystical.

Childhood? Did he mean the disaster at age ten? If so, her future held promise… but the part about love…

She couldn’t help picturing Mo Yan, Liu Ye, Qing Yue, and Tianyu.

Could it really be true?

Seeing her skepticism, Liu Qiansha smiled. “That’s what the book says about your chart. Believe it or not, it’s up to you.”

Jin’er pursed her lips, then smiled. “Honestly, what difference does it make? If fate is set, knowing it changes nothing—you still have to do what must be done.

I can’t just lie in bed all day waiting for riches because a book says I’ll be wealthy. Nor can I avoid all men just because it says my love life will be rough.

It’s precisely the unknown that gives us hope for the future, don’t you think?”

Liu Qiansha was quietly amazed.

Truly exceptional.

Many never come to such wisdom in a lifetime, yet here it was from a girl barely thirteen or fourteen.

Still… this reasoning was based on the idea that “fate is predetermined.” But what if fate could be changed?

After a while, Liu Qiansha stroked his beard and smiled. “Countless people long to see their futures, but you’re different. Still, you’re not wrong.”

Jin’er smiled, saying nothing more. She sipped her tea, then rose.

“Master, I’ve completed the task Aunt Xue gave me. I hope you’ll come witness it.”

“Of course, I’ll go with you.” Liu Qiansha rose and left the study with her, heading to Aunt Xue’s quarters.

———

Aunt Xue, her hair silver-white, stood in the small courtyard coughing as she hung herbs to dry.

Her body was failing her; even a chill left her weak for days on end. Ah…

“Master.” A clear, young voice sounded behind her. Aunt Xue paused, turned, and seeing Jin’er, nearly lost her words to emotion.

Jin’er hurried over, supporting her with a smile. “Master, I’ve returned.”

“Good, good… wonderful…” Aunt Xue was so moved she could hardly speak, eyes fixed on Jin’er, yet she did not ask any questions.

Liu Qiansha had not told her of the Poison Sage’s death—he had left it to Jin’er to report in person. So Aunt Xue’s heart was filled with hope and anxiety.

Understanding her feelings, Jin’er didn’t keep her in suspense. She took a book and an exquisite jade token from her sleeve.

Aunt Xue looked down, hands trembling as she accepted them.

“The Myriad Poisons… Secret Manual…” she murmured, voice shaking.

The Myriad Poisons Manual… her father’s life’s work…

Memories surged over her, too powerful to bear, and she was nearly overwhelmed by the pain.

“The Poison Sage is dead. I have taken his place as master of the Myriad Poisons Sect,” Jin’er explained.

At this, Aunt Xue’s breathing grew rapid, and after a few gasps, she threw back her head and laughed shrilly.

Her laughter was sharp and wild, startling the birds from the trees.

“Hahaha… He’s dead! He’s finally dead… Hahaha…” She laughed and laughed, as if laughter alone could not express her relief, until tears streamed down her face, yet she could not stop.

Jin’er frowned at her madness, heart aching for her.

Suddenly, Aunt Xue’s laughter broke off into violent coughing.

“Master!” Jin’er cried, rushing to steady the frail woman.

Aunt Xue coughed and coughed, then spat out a mouthful of blood, splattering Jin’er’s chest, neck, and chin.

“Master!” Jin’er and Liu Qiansha hurried her inside.

Once she was settled in bed, Jin’er fetched her needles and began acupuncture with practiced speed. After a frantic effort, Aunt Xue finally stabilized, though her face was ashen and her breath weak.

“Master, are you feeling any better?” Jin’er asked anxiously from the bedside.

Aunt Xue managed a faint smile. “Thank you, child… I never thought I’d live to see my revenge…”

But what is revenge, in the end? He destroyed my whole life…”

As she spoke, emotion overtook her and she began to sob, her chest heaving.

“Master, please—don’t upset yourself so,” Jin’er pleaded, nose stinging, her heart heavy.

Aunt Xue’s health was too poor; if this continued…

Though their relationship had been more of a transaction, Aunt Xue had taught her all her skills and secrets, and she truly was a pitiful soul. Now, seeing her like this, how could Jin’er not be moved? [End of today’s update]