Yu Ci turned at the sound, only to discover that, while he had been focused on eavesdropping on Zhai Que'er and Su Shuanghe's secret plot, the skiff beneath his feet had drifted with the current into the waters near shore. Had his mind not just been shaken, holding him fixed atop the water, he would likely have crashed straight into a vast reed bed by now.
The man who had been calling his name for half a year was also aboard a little boat that had just poked halfway out of the reeds. He held cups and a wine jug in his hands, his face already flushed red. Yet his body was stiff at the moment, and the awkwardness on his face was plain to see.
Yu Ci sensed something and immediately listened closely. Sure enough, quite a few people were hidden deep within this reed bed. They seemed to be holding some gathering; laughter, songs, and cries of drinking rang out without end. With the wind stirring the reed blossoms and the fragrance of wine spilling everywhere, the place brimmed with the warmth of mortal life and boisterous revelry.
He had only just arrived at Xi Yu Lake and was unaccustomed to having his spiritual perception restricted. His five senses and six consciousnesses had grown somewhat sluggish; otherwise, he would not have noticed only now.
As for that half-drunk cultivator, he was lean, with narrow eyes and a round face—an unremarkable man. Thus, though he looked somewhat familiar, Yu Ci could not recall him for the moment.
Meeting Yu Ci's gaze, the cultivator visibly jolted. He forcibly tugged his face, stiff from excessive tension, into a smile, but it came out crooked and warped, muddling Yu Ci's memories even further.
At that moment, the little boat swayed out of