The winter plum blossoms faded in the snow; spring breezes returned upon the willows.
More than ten days slipped by unnoticed. Xuanji walked through the stream, humming as she made her way up the mountain. The snow was gradually melting, plum blossoms drifted along the water, and the winter jasmine beside the path had put out tiny buds. The fresh spring breeze carried flute music down from the mountaintop, lilting and lovely.
It was as though the flute were coaxing the flowers into bloom.
Grand Martial Uncle was playing his flute again.
The music was clearly that of an immortal, its artistic conception lofty and remote, yet hearing it made Xuanji want to laugh. She could even guess what Grand Martial Uncle was doing right now. He certainly wasn't putting on an artistic, otherworldly air. He was simply being forced by the Sect Leader to practice his flute, looking utterly pitiful.
What immortal mountain? It was only an immortal mountain when Grand Martial Uncle wasn't around. Once he was here, the mountain acquired a human touch. Either the Sect Leader was dragging him off to practice his swordsmanship, or she was angrily demanding what kind of rubbish he was playing, sending him scurrying for cover amid utter pandemonium.
All that immortal air was gone.
Grand Martial Uncle got scolded every day, yet he kept grinning every day. The Sect Leader's face, too, was like melting snow, showing more smiles with each passing day. Sometimes, hearing her scold him, it was hard to tell whether she was angry or something else... Occasionally, the words "acting coy" popped into Xuanji's head, frightening her into a shudder. She dared not think about it.
But she probably wouldn't have many chances to visit Main Peak anymore, or see the Sect Leader and Grand Martial