Seeing his hopeless display, Yao Lao stroked his illusory beard in satisfaction, then floated over to his side and remarked in an offhand tone:
"Well? Anything made by me, Yao Chen, is guaranteed to be top quality. Still... that Xiao Yi put quite a bit of effort into catching the snake back then, too. There's plenty of ointment in this bottle. You couldn't use it all by yourself."
The implication needed no explanation. Xiao Yan's brows, which had just relaxed, immediately knotted together again. He stoppered the jade bottle and held it in his hand, but gave a disdainful snort:
"Who cares about that guy? Doesn't he boast about his 'mighty magical powers' and immunity to every illness? A mere spring fever-surely he can just whip up some talisman water, drink it, and get over it. Why would he need anything from an ordinary mortal like me?"
Xiao Yan muttered, "Let him suffer to death," but his body was far more honest. Under Yao Lao's amused gaze, his feet had already turned toward the door of their own accord. He pulled it open and headed straight for Xiao Yi's courtyard next door. The night breeze was slightly cool and pleasant against his skin, blowing away some of the heat and awkwardness in his heart.
By the time he reached Xiao Yi's courtyard gate, Xiao Yan was still waging a war between heaven and man in his heart. Should I just toss the bottle inside and run, or knock? What would I say if I knocked? This guy hasn't come to pester me for two days. Has something happened to him?
In the end, that lingering awkwardness was no match for his faint, nagging worry. Xiao Yan gritted his teeth. Rather than stand here like an idiot, looking forward and backward