Night had fallen at an inn in a seaside town.
The windows were tightly shut. Outside, rain rustled down, and a childish voice drifted in from beneath the eaves:
"Cluck, cluck, cluck~ Eat your little buggy..."
"Chirp?!"
"Don't hide! Cluck, cluck, cluck~..."
Ye Jingtang leaned against his pillow, looking at the lantern's glow on the window paper. A smile touched his lips at the sound.
A basin, towels, and other supplies sat beside the bed. Fan Qinghe sat sideways before him, wiping the blood from his chest before applying medicine to the wound, murmuring:
"If your blade fell into the sea, you could've just had the Demoness retrieve it. You were injured, yet you went down yourself..."
"It's only a flesh wound. Nothing serious."
"A flesh wound is still a wound. Lie still..."
Perfected Person Xuanji stood before the bed in a white dress, holding the bare Sword Strip in her left hand and examining it back and forth by candlelight, her eyes intent. After studying it for a long time, she returned to the bedside and sat beside his pillow.
Ye Jingtang had been looking toward the window. When a full, round moon suddenly settled within inches of him, the shapely back view, with hips wider than her shoulders, made him pause. But before he could look closely, Miss Fan, who was treating his injuries, straightened his head and took the opportunity to scold Shui'er:
"Sit somewhere else. You're not helping, so why crowd in here?"
Perfected Person Xuanji ignored Hehe. Turning slightly, she leaned against the headboard and rotated the Sword Strip in her hand.
"This sword really is peculiar. Its design is balanced and harmonious, more like a Daoist ritual sword than a weapon. Ritual swords can execute and subdue ghosts and gods, cleanse corruption,