Late at night.
For the first time, my emotions had been so bad that I'd fallen into a dead sleep.
I must have cried myself exhausted, too.
A graceful figure in a white dress descended into the courtyard.
Everyone knew Yue Wuhua, whose cool elegance surpassed the moon's, but few knew that Ye Qingxian, too, possessed the beauty of an immortal who had fallen from the heavens into the mortal world.
Even the bright moonlight paled beside the figure beneath the tree.
The white Dao patterns in Yangyang's left eye flashed and vanished.
As if sensing something, she opened her eyes at once.
The next second, she turned her head toward Ye Xiaoyao beside her, instinctively softening her voice a hundredfold.
"Ya-ya."
Hearing the movement inside the room, Ye Qingxian's brows creased without her realizing it.
Her first thought was that little Yangyang was talking to her.
But—she couldn't understand a baby's language.
Tonight,
she, too, had tossed and turned, unable to quiet her mind.
Whether she was cultivating or trying to rest, she kept thinking of the way Junior Sister had spoken to her that day.
She had tried so hard to learn, over and over, yet couldn't help questioning her own motives. Had her original intentions really been that pure?
Her heart had been in disarray, and in the end, all that remained was the image of Junior Sister. For a long time, she couldn't calm herself.
She had thought she'd go out for a walk...
But before long, she had found herself at Junior Sister's courtyard again.
Beneath the night sky, the Ginkgo Tree still stood, its leaves rustling softly.
Yet the graceful figure beneath it, so mortified that day, was nowhere to be seen.
Ye Qingxian paid no mind to the faint rustling sounds inside the