Further Stimulation, Tang Yuehua's Loss

"Xiao Yan, you're here."

At the sight of Lu Yan, a smile rippled through Tang Yuehua's eyes, like a spring breeze brushing over a still lake.

She hurried forward, her tone filled with undisguised intimacy and delight.

Yet when her gaze fell upon the two lovely figures behind Lu Yan, that delight froze slightly.

As the mistress of Moonlight Pavilion, the highest hall of etiquette in the Heaven Dou Empire.

Recognizing nobles and memorizing important figures from every faction and their relatives were among her basic duties.

With just one glance, Tang Yuehua recognized the two girls.

One was Ye Lingling, the current bearer of the Nine Heart Begonia spirit. Her identity was special enough to warrant courtesy from any faction.

The other was Dugu Yan, the granddaughter of the Poison Douluo, Dugu Bo, and moreover... a woman who liked Xiao Yan.

"Please forgive us for this abrupt visit, Pavilion Master."

Ye Lingling dipped slightly in a flawless gesture of etiquette, her voice cool and pleasant.

Tang Yuehua smiled elegantly and responded with perfect composure:

"Of course not.

It is Moonlight Pavilion's honor to receive Miss Ye and Miss Dugu."

Tang Yuehua's calm gaze swept over the two of them, yet an indescribable melancholy stirred in her heart.

Even among nobles, there were ranks.

Ye Lingling and Dugu Yan were clearly among those with the highest status in Heaven Dou, especially Dugu Yan.

Her grandpa was a Titled Douluo. Few could rival the strength of her status.

In the past, Tang Yuehua would have been delighted.

But at this moment, she felt somewhat forlorn as her gaze drifted to Lu Yan.

During the lesson.

Within the elegant classroom, the other noble students also noticed these two new faces, both distinguished in status and striking in appearance.

Fortunately, they all recognized the pair, and no one rudely approached to disturb them.

Lu Yan, meanwhile, displayed a little of his skill.

His slender fingers brushed across the harp strings, and music flowed forth like a murmuring stream, melodious and winding, as though he had become one with the instrument.

The lingering zither music carried a strange soothing power, causing everyone present to unconsciously lose themselves in it as their minds grew tranquil.

Tang Yuehua stood quietly to one side.

As she watched the youth, whom she had personally taught and who had already begun to carry himself with graceful poise, her eyes brimmed with unconcealed appreciation and pride.

It was the gratification and affection of seeing a youth of one's own grow into adulthood.

The more outstanding he became, the more honored she felt.

After the lesson, Dugu Yan very naturally moved close to Lu Yan's side. Her words were full of generous praise, and she even expressed her wish to learn harp playing from him.

The girl's bright smile and undisguised intimacy were like a tiny thorn, lightly pricking Tang Yuehua's heart.

For some reason, that scene appeared especially... grating to her.

Almost instinctively, she stepped forward. A proper faint smile still hung on her face as she gently interrupted their conversation.

She precisely pointed out several trivial issues and naturally inserted herself between them.

Blending herself into their little circle, she skillfully put distance between Dugu Yan and Lu Yan, who had been standing too close together.

Lu Yan naturally accepted her instruction with humility.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the three of them took their leave.

Tang Yuehua stood alone by a window on the upper floor of Moonlight Pavilion, silently watching their retreating figures walk side by side until they vanished at the end of the long street.

A hollow feeling spread through her heart, and she could not help murmuring softly, so quietly that only she could hear:

"Before... you would have stayed."

She turned around. On the soft couch she had specially prepared for him lay fresh, high-quality bedding carrying a delicate floral fragrance.

Everything seemed to be waiting for its owner to return.

But the owner of the couch had not stayed today.

An indescribable weariness washed over her, and Tang Yuehua could not be bothered to move again.

As if possessed, she lay down on her side upon the soft couch that had originally belonged to Lu Yan.

Under the effects of the Calming Incense, she gradually fell asleep.

"Knock, knock, knock—"

After an unknown amount of time, a light and familiar knock woke her.

Even with the sleep-aiding Calming Incense burning, she had not slept deeply and woke at the slightest disturbance.

"What is it?"

She propped herself up, her voice carrying the languidness of someone freshly awakened.

"Aunt Yue, may I come in?"

That clear and familiar young voice came from outside the door.

Tang Yuehua's heart gave a sudden leap. After her surprise came an even greater, uncontrollable joy.

Xiao Yan... why had he come back?

She immediately rose, her movements carrying a trace of barely noticeable haste.

She quickly smoothed her slightly rumpled skirt and long hair, then flattened the bedding on the soft couch to ensure there was no trace of anyone having slept there.

She sat back on the bed.

Only then did she take a deep breath and restore her voice to its usual gentle composure:

"Come in."

Lu Yan pushed open the door and entered.

What met his eyes was Tang Yuehua sitting at the edge of the bed. She had removed her Thin Silk stockings, her bare feet exposed.

Her fair, delicate Jade Feet rested freely in the air, stretched out in ease rather than held to their usual strict propriety.

Under the soft indoor light, they possessed a relaxed, languid beauty.

"Xiao Yan, didn't you... escort them back? Why did you return?"

Tang Yuehua asked softly.

A faint sourness and grievance slipped unconsciously into her tone, things even she herself had not noticed.

Watching their backs as they left, she had thought that her place in Lu Yan's heart was no longer what it had once been.

Just like many years ago, when the lives of her Eldest Brother and Second Brother had been occupied by a woman named Ah Yin.

She had been quietly pushed away from the most central place. That once unique closeness and intimacy had ultimately scattered beneath the wind and rain.

Lu Yan gazed at her, his eyes crystal clear and filled with unquestionable sincerity. "How could I truly leave?"

His voice was gentle yet firm.

"Aunt Yue, I promised you that I would let you sleep soundly every night.

Today, I was merely fulfilling my duties as host and seeing them to the street corner.

I have never dared forget my promise to you.

Since I made that promise, of course I had to return."

Those words were like a warm spring, instantly flowing through Tang Yuehua's slightly chilled heart.

It had nothing to do with romance, nothing to do with love.

It was simply the satisfaction and sense of being cherished that came from being solemnly held in someone's heart, from knowing that one's promise was valued above gold.

The gloom lingering in her heart vanished in an instant, and a bright, captivating smile blooming from the depths of her heart spread across her face.

"Xiao Yan..." she called softly, with a touch of reliance.

"Aunt Yue is a little tired."

"Aunt Yue, please lie down."

Tang Yuehua obediently lay down as told and closed her eyes.

Lu Yan then summoned the Dream Butterfly Martial Soul, and gentle Spiritual Power began guiding her into a dream.

This time, he not only infused her with calming power, but also quietly wove in a seed of "attachment."

It gave that comfort a bond that would be difficult to sever.

Once Tang Yuehua's breathing became even and deep, clearly showing that she had sunk into a sweet dream, Lu Yan lay down on the soft couch.

His nostrils twitched.

Lu Yan keenly caught a faint trace of Tang Yuehua's distinctive, elegant fragrance emanating from the couch.

It mingled with the floral scent of the fresh bedding.

Then, a knowing curve carrying a hint of control slowly rose at the corner of his lips.

A sharp gleam flashed through his eyes, revealing that his plans had exceeded all expectations.

The progress seemed to be... even more wonderful than his boldest estimates.

Things were moving faster.