bookrandom Chapter 1039 Spring
Chapter 1039 Spring
This decision was like a stone dropped into a cold pond, stirring up ripples on the still surface, only to be gently smoothed by the encompassing spiritual energy of Qingqiu. It took him three full days to bring all the books from his mortal study. He used the Flowing Cloud Beast that Lingxi had found. The leather pouch on its back could hold anything, and it carried bookcases half a man's height as it shuttled through the barrier, its hooves leaving shimmering footprints as they trod across the bluestone pavement. The books were carefully stacked on the shelves of the newly built wooden house by the cold pond. Shen Yanzhi had carefully padded each layer with moisture-proof lotus leaves. When his fingertips brushed against the spines of the books, the tenderness in his eyes was enough to drown you. He had built the house himself. The trees of Qingqiu were spiritual, whimpering softly when they were felled. Every morning, Shen Yanzhi would kowtow to the tree trunks in the dew, explaining his purpose. After three days of this, he finally selected the thickest pine trees. Lingxi always squatted beside him when he swung his axe, watching the sawdust flying in the sunlight like golden butterflies. Beads of sweat oozed from his forehead, leaving dark marks on his collarbone. Lingxi would pick a large lotus leaf, stand on tiptoe to shade him from the sun, and occasionally, the tip of her tail would playfully wrap around his hand hanging by his side. On the day the wooden house was completed, a drizzle fell in Qingqiu. The raindrops hit the newly laid thatched roof, making a rustling sound, like someone was singing softly. Shen Yanzhi placed the inkstone he brought from the human world in the house, while Lingxi picked various wild flowers, put them in a coarse pottery vase and placed it on the windowsill. Pink, yellow, and purple, they decorated the small house with vitality. The days that followed were as gentle and long as the flowing water in a cold pond. Shen Yanzhi still maintained his human habits, reciting poems every morning in the first rays of morning light. His clear voice pierced the mist, startling the waterfowl nesting by the pond. Lingxi dozed off on the table where he was reading, her nine tails swaying intermittently. Occasionally, one would curl up in his lap, its furry tip brushing against his wrist, tickling it. The faint scent of ink, mingled with the distinctive aroma of Qingqiu's vegetation, lingered on her nose, always bringing her a restful sleep. When Shen Yanzhi read, Lingxi would lie beside him, watching him. She watched his brow furrow as he pondered a difficult problem, watched his fingertips trace the pages with concentration, leaving faint traces, watched the sunlight filtering through the window lattice and falling on his eyelashes, casting subtle shadows. Sometimes, she couldn't help but reach out her paw and gently touch the tip of his nose, watching him tilt his head in response to the tickle, a helpless yet doting smile in his eyes. "You're naughty again," he would put down his book and gently pinch her ear, the warmth of his fingertips always making her squint in comfort. The Demon Suppression Division had come to visit him three times. The first time was half a month after he had stayed in Qingqiu. Two men in dark uniforms stood outside the barrier, threatening to take him back for punishment. Shen Yanzhi stood just inside the light curtain, his white robe rustling in the mountain breeze. In his hand, he held the wolf-hair brush he had once used to protect Lingxi. Though undipped, the tip held an undeniable resolve. "I am no longer a member of the Demon Suppression Division," he said in a calm yet powerful voice. "Qingqiu is my home. For the rest of my life, I will stay here." The two men cursed him for being "bewitched by demons" and "self-degrading." Seeing he showed no sign of wavering, they ultimately left in anger. Lingxi hid behind him, her tail wrapped tightly around his wrist. She could sense the unwavering spiritual power emanating from him, like an unshakable mountain. The second visit was from his senior apprentice, the one who had personally taught him talisman drawing. He brought a letter from his family, saying his father had fallen ill due to his betrayal and hoped he would change his ways. Shen Yanzhi took the letter, his fingertips wrinkled the paper, he was silent for a long time, and finally shook his head. "Tell father that the unfilial son Shen Yanzhi is ashamed of him, but not of himself." He bowed deeply to his senior brother outside the barrier, "If there is a future, I will go back and apologize in person, but not today." The senior brother looked at Lingxi who had half of her head sticking out from behind him, a complex emotion flashed in his eyes, and finally he sighed and turned away. After that, Shen Yanzhi sat quietly in front of the wooden house all night, and Lingxi stayed by his side, wrapped her tail around his body, and transferred some of her spiritual power to him. She knew that he gave up not only the identity of the Demon Suppression Bureau, but also the fame in the world, the honor of his family, those things he had been chasing in the first half of his life. "Do you regret it?" On the morning of the third day, Lingxi looked at the red bloodshot in his eyes and asked in a low voice. Shen Yanzhi smiled, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "With you here, what regrets do I have?" As he spoke, sunlight filtered through the clouds onto his face, as gentle as the first cup of hot tea he'd warmed for her. Lingxi suddenly felt that Qingqiu's spiritual energy had become even more mellow due to his presence. The third person to arrive carried murderous intent, the glare of the talismans outside the barrier blindingly bright, clearly an attempt to force their way in. Shen Yanzhi, however, was prepared. He combined the Qingqiu formations he'd learned from the elders with talismanic techniques from the human world to create layers of defenses outside the barrier. When the men triggered the formations, their mouths spitting blood from the rebounding spiritual energy, Shen Yanzhi simply stood before the light curtain, watching coldly. "If you dare take another step, don't blame me for being rude." His voice lost its usual gentleness, carrying a chilling chill. "I'm not just protecting Qingqiu, I'm protecting my life." Since then, the Demon Suppression Division has never come again. Qingqiu returned to its former tranquility. Only the scrolls drying in front of the wooden house occasionally reminded Lingxi that the people around her came from the world that once frightened her. On the night of Mid-Autumn Festival, the moonlight in Qingqiu was exceptionally bright. The osmanthus trees by the cold pond were in full bloom, their delicate golden petals scattered like stars from the branches. When the wind blew, they rustled down, covering the ground like a soft golden blanket. Shen Yanzhi and Lingxi sat beneath the tree, he leaning against the trunk while Lingxi nestled in his arms, her nine tails spread out like a blooming white flower. Shen Yanzhi held a peachwood hairpin in his hand. He had carved it from the ancient peach wood by the cold pond, and the tip was carved with a tiny, lifelike nine-tailed fox. He gently combed Lingxi's hair, his movements as gentle as if he were protecting a fragile treasure as he passed the hairpin through her dark hair. "Next spring, let's go to the human world to watch the mountain stream, okay?" He suddenly spoke, his voice was particularly gentle in the fragrance of osmanthus. Lingxi raised her head and met his smiling eyes. There was moonlight, osmanthus, and her shadow reflected in them. She smiled and nodded, her tail swaying gently in the moonlight, sweeping across the petals on the ground, making a rustling sound. "Okay, we also want to eat Zhang's sugar cakes." "We also want to listen to the scholar at the bridge head reciting poems." Shen Yanzhi added, and gently scratched her nose with his fingertips. "No, your voice is much better than theirs."