Volume One, Chapter 79: I Like... Watching Your Livestream

The chill from the air conditioner sent an uncontrollable shiver through Qin Yu, and soon after, she heard a man's deep, low voice. “Turn the temperature up.”

Her eyelids felt unbearably heavy, and it took her a long moment to open her eyes. In the haze, she sensed something being draped over her.

Lu Jinyuan, noticing her uneasy, furrowed brow, soothed her, “You are safe now. We're on our way home. Rest for a while—I'll wake you when we arrive.”

His gentle and melodious voice seemed to linger in her ears, each word knocking softly at her eardrums, bringing her a sense of peace.

When Qin Yu opened her eyes again, moonlight streamed through the tinted glass above her, falling softly across her face. The glow was not blinding; instead, it made the world outside appear luminously bright. The car was empty except for her.

Instinctively, she propped herself up, and a man’s suit jacket slid from her shoulders onto the floor.

Qin Yu pressed her hand to her chest, frowning slightly.

Her master’s words echoed in her memory.

“My dear apprentice, today I have a gift for you. Give me your hand.”

She had been fifteen at the time. Looking at her master—unusually serious for once—she hesitantly reached out.

He pressed his five fingers against her palm and tapped three times. While she was still baffled by his strange behavior, he suddenly lifted his other hand, and a short dagger slashed across her palm. Blood welled up swiftly from the wound.

Qin Yu cried out in pain, yanking her hand back and instinctively trying to staunch the bleeding. Yet no matter how hard she pressed, the blood would not stop.

“Master, what experiment are you conducting this time?” she demanded, exasperated, stamping her foot.

Her master gazed at her palm, enigmatic as ever, but not the least bit flustered. “Be patient, dear apprentice.”

She shot him a reproachful glare, but then noticed something odd.

Though blood gushed ceaselessly from her wound, not a single drop spilled to the ground.

Startled, she looked closer and saw that a miniature sword, small enough to fit her palm, hovered above the cut. The blood was being absorbed by the blade.

It drank swiftly, and soon, from blood loss, Qin Yu’s face turned pale. As more blood was drawn, the translucent sword gradually took on a defined form.

Excitement sparked within her—it was clearly an extraordinary sword.

“Why hasn’t it acknowledged me as its master even after all this?”

Her master, seeing the situation grow dire, grew anxious. “If you can’t hold on, tell me right away.”

“I’m fine, Master. I can take it,” Qin Yu replied, her eyes burning with a desire to conquer the blade.

She and the sword locked in a silent contest.

Just as her master was about to intervene and halt the ritual, the blood-sated sword slipped into the wound and vanished into Qin Yu’s body. Instantly, the cut on her palm healed, as though she’d never been injured.

Her master hurried forward to catch her as she swayed unsteadily, his voice full of disbelief. “I never expected the Changyi Sword to truly choose you as its master!”

Qin Yu stared at her palm, her brows arching as she whispered the name, “Changyi Sword?”

Her master patted her shoulder, his face creasing with a proud smile. “It is a famous sword, and you have much to look forward to!”

Qin Yu believed him—somewhat.

A good sword, certainly. But as for whether she’d truly benefit from it, that remained to be seen. After all, her master had pulled too many unreliable stunts in his time.

Later, her suspicions proved right. The Changyi Sword seemed to slumber within her, and for six years she was never able to summon it.

Today, when she wanted to break through a formation, she’d intended to use the Frost-Bearing Sword she’d wielded against Gui Li. But she felt a stirring from the Changyi Sword inside her. She changed her incantation on the spot.

This was her first time using the Changyi Sword. She was both puzzled by its awakening and awed by its power.

Had she used the Frost-Bearing Sword, she would likely have needed to strike four or five times. But the Changyi Sword’s very first sweep obliterated the obstacle in an instant.

She tried to summon it again, channeling her spiritual energy, but the sword seemed to have fallen dormant, leaving no trace of its presence.

Recalling how she’d spat blood and fainted earlier, she guessed she had simply been too weak before to wield the Changyi Sword.

Now, having witnessed its brilliance, she regarded it with newfound respect and enthusiasm.

Her eyes shone with determination. “Changyi, I will not fail your trust.”

Thump, thump.

She felt two powerful beats from the area near her heart.

It was Changyi responding to her.

A smile curved her lips.

What a fine sword!

Qin Yu glanced out the window. Lu Jinyuan stood beneath a large tree, half his face illuminated by the yellow glow of a streetlamp, the other half cloaked in shadow.

In the night, the faint flicker at his lips glimmered on and off.

Qin Yu was curious—why was it that whenever something happened to her, Lu Jinyuan always appeared at her side at the first sign of trouble?

Perhaps sensing her gaze, Lu Jinyuan lifted his head in the darkness, their eyes meeting.

He flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it underfoot.

Then, he walked toward the car.

Mindful that the scent of smoke might linger on him, he didn’t get in immediately, but instead opened the window.

Qin Yu looked over; behind him, light spilled forth, while the space in front of him was shrouded in darkness.

“It’s too late. It wouldn’t be proper for me to take you home,” he said.

Considering her reputation, he hadn’t driven her all the way to the Su family’s doorstep, but instead stopped on a brightly lit street nearby. After parking, he and the driver had both gotten out.

Qin Yu thanked him, and then voiced her curiosity. “Why is it that you always appear by my side?”

She couldn’t decipher his expression in the darkness—he seemed somehow different.

Lu Jinyuan’s ears flushed, but with his face turned from the moonlight, Qin Yu couldn’t see the suspicious redness. “I like…”

Qin Yu’s eyes widened in shock.

He finished, “…watching your livestreams.”

Qin Yu let out a sigh of relief.

He’d given her quite a fright—she’d thought, for a moment, she was about to become the subject of gossip herself.

“Have you watched every one of my streams?”

Lu Jinyuan looked a little embarrassed and answered with a soft “Mm.”

“You even watched when I stayed up all night yesterday?” she asked in surprise.

“It was the weekend. I was bored,” he replied.

Knowing Lu Jinyuan sometimes moonlighted as a rideshare driver, she believed he genuinely had nothing better to do.

Qin Yu reached into her small bag and took out a stack of talismans tied with a rubber band, handing them to him. “I meant to repay you for helping me recover my body last time, but you’ve helped me again…”

As she spoke, Qin Yu’s face scrunched with distress. “But now that you’ve helped me again today, I still owe you.”

Lu Jinyuan recognized the strange symbols on those talismans—it was exactly the same as the ones she’d given him before.

He wanted to say she needn’t keep such strict account, but was afraid of offending her.

He silently accepted the warding talisman. She stroked the pale pink flower tied around the talismans, a gentle warmth filling her heart.

“Then I’ll repay you next time.”

Qin Yu got out of the car and bid Lu Jinyuan farewell.

He climbed back in, as did the driver from somewhere nearby.

Watching the car disappear down the street, Qin Yu felt a surge of contentment.

Lu Jinyuan was a friend worth having.

He never pried, no matter what she did.

She liked friends who knew their boundaries—it made for true peace of mind.

At that very moment, Mu Ling, asleep in her dreams, sneezed.

Qin Yu used an invisibility talisman to return to the Su residence.

After a quick wash, she got into bed and glanced at her phone. It was already midnight.

She had just settled down when an unread message flashed onto her screen.