Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Onset of the Cold Poison

“Mofei, you did very well.” Hooking her arm around his neck and forcing him to meet her gaze, Yu Youwei spoke with a firm tone: “Listen, even if Sixth Brother and the others took advantage of your kindness and sense of loyalty to steal the book, it is absolutely not your fault. All you need to remember is: don’t ever give anyone the chance to use you again. Listen to Ancestor, and to what your father and your three brothers say—everyone else’s words can be ignored.”

“Don’t listen to Mother, either?” Ning Mofei asked, his voice finally tinged with a hint of irritation.

“No need to listen.”

But it wasn’t Yu Youwei who answered; it was Ning Baixia. The search for Ning Mofei had disturbed the Ancestor, and Ning Baixia himself awoke early, feeling a sudden and inexplicable anxiety—it was as if his twin was in trouble. He couldn't bother to stabilize his cultivation, and instead hurried out in search. Relying on the telepathy between twins, he found his way here just in time to see Yu Youwei consoling his brother, so he stayed hidden and watched.

“Third Brother!” Ning Mofei called out in aggrieved tones but, unlike before, did not rush over to throw himself into his brother’s arms and cry.

There was a certain satisfaction in seeing his little brother grow up. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, Ning Baixia did not deliberately use his spiritual power to shield himself. The rain seemed to fall right through his body, yet not a single drop clung to him. He saw their mother leading a group of people into the woods, but said, “Listen to your wife. Don’t listen to your mother.”

“So Third Brother thinks I didn’t do anything wrong?” Ning Mofei asked, biting his lip out of habit.

Without answering directly, Ning Baixia smiled and said, “Come, take Third Brother to see the Ghost-faced Cloud Ganoderma you’ve cultivated.” For one who always wore a frosty expression, his smile now was so unexpectedly radiant that even Yu Youwei was momentarily captivated, inwardly sighing, “Handsome enough to eat!”

Now that his heart was at ease, Ning Mofei became a bit smug. Pointing to the cluster of Seven-star Lotuses in a nearby puddle, he said, “I planted those Seven-star Lotuses too. I think they’re even better than the ones Mother grows.”

“Great minds think alike,” Ning Baixia replied with a smile.

Yu Youwei offered a professional explanation: “Mother has a fire attribute, but Seven-star Lotus is a cold and yin plant. Mofei has a strain of cold poison in his body, so it’s only natural that his lotuses would outshine Mother’s.”

Madam Yu, though embarrassed, did not lose her temper and chimed in, “Jade Ginseng, Water Reed Willow, and Ghost-faced Cloud Ganoderma are all cold and yin as well. So it’s better for Mofei to tend them, isn’t it?”

Having been scolded for no reason, Yu Youwei considered it gracious enough not to retaliate, and now she couldn't even be bothered to respond. Ning Baixia glanced at her and continued, “From now on, let Fourth Brother care for these plants—he’ll certainly do better than anyone else. Even cold-natured herbs, when handled by him, will retain more of their spiritual essence.”

“So I’m the best, right?” Ning Mofei said gleefully.

“Yes, Mofei is the best. You’ve been up all night without rest or food—aren’t you tired or hungry?” Remembering how she’d been scolded on this fool’s behalf, Yu Youwei couldn’t resist pinching his waist. Unexpectedly, Ning Baixia caught the little gesture; their eyes met through the veil of rain, and she suddenly felt a touch of guilt, as if caught red-handed.

A strange light flickered in Ning Baixia’s eyes, but he said nothing and simply walked away. Their mother and the others followed.

“Why did Third Brother leave? I haven’t even asked what kind of flowers he likes yet.” Ning Mofei scratched his head in a silly, endearing manner.

“Oh, spare me! Don’t bother planting flowers in Third Brother’s icy courtyard—I doubt he’d care for them anyway.” Meeting Ning Mofei’s wounded gaze, Yu Youwei inwardly cursed him a “menace” and shamelessly switched sides: “Let’s give him something else, something more meaningful.”

“What would be more meaningful?”

“Let me eat and get some sleep first—then I’ll come up with something, Lord Ning!”

“Lord Ning is our uncle,” Ning Mofei corrected her with utmost seriousness.

She burst out laughing. “All right then, Young Master Ning Mofei, can we stop lingering out here in the rain?”

“You must be tired. I’ll carry you.” Ning Mofei grinned shyly. His smile was absolutely innocent, not the least bit suggestive, yet she still blushed, a peculiar warmth stirring in her heart.

After dinner, the young couple sat leisurely at the table, each with a cup of tea brewed by Yu Youwei herself.

The pale golden-red tea shimmered in their cups. Ning Mofei raised his and took a hearty gulp, only to scald his tongue and hurriedly spit it out. Yu Youwei couldn’t help but chuckle at his awkwardness.

She gently blew aside a jade-green leaf, sipped her tea, and let the bitterness linger like a vine around her heart. “Tasting tea is like tasting life: at first, it’s bitter, then sweet; its fragrance lies hidden, its flavor endless.”

“Youwei, I don’t understand a word you’re saying,” Ning Mofei said, utterly confused.

She laughed softly. “It was wrong of me to say those things.” Perhaps, she thought, she was beginning to hope for things she shouldn’t wish for.

Outside the window, Ning Baixia slipped away as quietly as he had come.

Oblivious to the thoughts in his beloved’s heart, Ning Mofei asked with enthusiasm, “So what meaningful gift should we give Third Brother?”

“As long as it’s something made by your own hands, it will be meaningful to him.” Thinking of the herbs stashed under the bed, Yu Youwei had a new idea. “Of course, it should be something special. How about you try refining a pill? Don’t worry about the quality—just making one will be enough.”

With his recent success at cultivating herbs, Ning Mofei’s hopes soared. “Do you really think I can make a pill?”

“Give it a try. No one expects Third Brother to actually take your pill; what matters is that you’re learning alchemy for his sake. That’s what counts.” Her encouragement fired him up, and he dashed off to find Ancestor and ask for the “Complete Basics of Alchemy.” Yu Youwei closed the door, crawled under the bed, and stuffed the remaining space in her storage ring with herbs.

She had just emerged and was about to sip her tea when Ning Mofei burst in, empty-handed. “Ancestor gave me loads of books, and said I could take them to the Yellow Alchemy Room—it’s ours from now on!”

“Where are the books?”

“Ancestor asked Uncle to deliver them, and told him to prepare all the herbs too!”

“Ancestor didn’t scold you for being unrealistic?” Even Yu Youwei was taken aback.

Ning Mofei’s long, phoenix-shaped eyes narrowed with pride. “Ancestor said I’m going to be the best alchemist in the Ning family, even better than him!”

“Well then, for Ancestor’s sake, you’d better put in some effort—at least produce a single, misshapen pill.” Yu Youwei muttered. She knew the Ancestor adored Ning Mofei, but she hadn’t realized just how deeply. It almost made her jealous of this simpleton.

That night, the curtains stirred gently, the shifting light on the bed casting Ning Mofei’s pain-twisted face in a sinister, ghostly hue. Yu Youwei was awakened by his groans. Reaching out, she touched a body cold as ice, the chill biting to the bone. “Mofei, what’s wrong?” she cried in alarm.

Ning Mofei made no reply, but clung to her like an octopus, using her as a living furnace for warmth.