[Vol. 1] Chapter 34 - It Smells Like a Citrus Exploded
After confirming Xiaolan had chased the illusion made from her own spiritual qi toward the east, Su Meng turned onto a corner path that passed through the servant quarters near Lin Xiaolan's courtyard.
There were passing maidservants just like her doing final checks during curfew hours, wearing intricate dark green robes that signified their status as maids.
A passing maidservant exchanged nods with her and asked, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Su Meng replied.
Among maidservants, there was always competition regarding job security and avoiding being cast out. But harassment was a different matter entirely.
What Lin Xiaolan had done could be considered exactly that—harassment.
Su Meng was thankful for the misunderstanding. It had caused a huge ruckus, and it wouldn't be surprising if someone caught wind of it.
"Be careful from now on."
This passing maidservant, though wearing the same dark green robes as Su Meng, was clearly someone who had just become a senior maidservant. Her name was Tang Yutong.
A glint flashed in Su Meng's eyes, reflecting the light of the paper lantern swaying gently in Tang Yutong's grip.
"You be careful too," Su Meng said, her tone carrying the weight of seniority. Then she softened her voice and added directly, "Don't end up like Lijuan. Watch yourself, and know whose side you're on."
Tang Yutong stiffened. How could she not know what happened to Lijuan? After all, she had seen it herself.
***
Xiaolan stumbled onto a different and unfamiliar tiered platform, one with plum blossoms in full bloom—especially translucent, petal-like reflections that caught the moons' light.
Standing there was a figure deeply familiar to her, unforgettable and etched into her mind.
There stood a girl with braided dark brown hair, a few loose strands framing her face. Her baby face, distinct jawline, and soft cheeks remained flawless.
Swoosh—swish—shiiiing.
Her sword, appearing almost translucent like ice, swung fiercely through the falling plum blossom petals.
Xiaolan gulped, feeling something cold against her neck. Her pupils constricted as she looked down to see a sword pressed against her throat.
She only just realized that a pair of narrowed apricot eyes was staring right at her.
And the owner of those eyes was none other than Chen Mingyuan.
Xiaolan's heart leaped into her throat. Her back was drenched in sweat.
"Hmph." Chen Mingyuan scoffed, a snarky grin curling on her lips. "You're late, I see."
Late for what? Xiaolan shrieked in her mind. She wanted to ask the game devs why they made characters talk like riddlers.
Mingyuan's gaze flickered over her. With a fluid motion, an overhead swing and rotation, she precisely sheathed her sword and huffed, "What, came to see those plum blossoms bloom? You're a little too late for that."
Xiaolan sighed in relief and nodded. Then it struck her: it seemed Mingyuan had been talking about the plum blossoms blooming by the eastern wall days back in the trials.
"I didn't expect to see you here," Xiaolan said, choosing the safest option in that moment. Her body tensed with wariness.
"Still tense? I don't bite... much." Mingyuan chuckled darkly and added, "I'm not here for you, don't get flattered."
As if remembering something, she continued, "Oh, be flattered. I graced you with my presence."
Xiaolan grumbled, "How can I not be tense? You almost poisoned me. If I hadn't spit it out, I would've died."
"Tch." Mingyuan waved a hand, dismissive. "You survived, didn't you? A weaker heir would have been dead before sunrise."
Her gaze slid back to Xiaolan, sharp and assessing.
"Consider it a compliment. I don't waste poison on people who aren't worth the effort."
Xiaolan was almost infuriated to death by this girl, even though she had a cute face and looked easy to bully...
"What are you carrying? Planning to practice that here?" Mingyuan's question interrupted her thoughts.
"Ah! This!" Xiaolan panicked and asked, "Did you see a maidservant wearing green robes running here just now?"
"No. And even if I did, would I tell you?" Mingyuan scoffed.
Xiaolan felt a headache coming on, and Mingyuan added, "You're back to your usual antics, huh? Looks like you weren't beaten up much by Uncle Guang."
As expected, Xiaolan wanted to curse the original body's ancestors eighteen generations back. Why did you have to pick fights with this girl?
Swoosh—
The motion was swift and smooth. The scroll was taken from her grasp.
"WAIT!"
Clack.
That was the sound of the scroll and Xiaolan's own heart dropping.
Mingyuan's gaze flashed with a heavy, unreadable expression. "Tell me... what exactly were you going to do with this?"
Her fast, sharp mind now stopped working in the face of the grating Alpha in front of her. What she saw right now was unspeakable. She had read it all with fast precision.
As a cultivator and an heir, despite being an Omega, she considered herself with pride that she had seen everything. But she had never considered someone, an Alpha, running publicly with a scroll about dual cultivation.
"You! Shameless!"
Sniff. Sniff.
Mingyuan caught the scent of orange citrus coming from Xiaolan's body, and she shuddered. Wasn't this the perfume she had sent as a gift to disgust her?
She felt goosebumps all over her skin. She knew she couldn't jump to conclusions, but everything just happened to coincide.
Here stood the annoying Alpha, wearing a strong perfume of citrus and holding a scroll about dual cultivation.
Mingyuan's mind went blank.
Then it rebooted. Then it crashed again.
Dual cultivation. Scroll. Alpha. Perfume. Midnight. Alone. With me.
Her eye twitched.
She looked at the scroll. Looked at Xiaolan. Looked at the scroll again. The words profound union seemed to be glowing.
"You—" Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. Tried again. "You—"
Nothing. Her vocal cords had apparently unionized and gone on strike.
Say something. Anything. Don't just stand here turning into a human tomato.
"This isn't—" Xiaolan started.
"SHUT UP."
Mingyuan's hand shot out, scroll pointed at Xiaolan's face like a weapon. Her fingers were trembling. From anger. Definitely from anger. Not from whatever else was happening in her chest right now.
"You," she hissed, "are the most—the absolute most—"
She couldn't find the word. There wasn't a word in any language she knew that could describe the creature standing before her, smelling of citrus, holding a manual for that.
"You ruined my reputation during the trials," Mingyuan said, her voice climbing higher with each word. "You announced a non-existent 'romance' to an entire group of Alpha heirs. And you know what happened? I got into trouble because of that."
She jabbed the scroll at Xiaolan's chest.
"AND NOW THIS?!"
Xiaolan opened her mouth.
"NO. No explanations. No excuses. No confessions." Mingyuan's face was now the color of a very angry plum. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want to know. I am going to walk away from this moment and pretend it never happened."
She turned sharply. Stopped. Turned back.
"AND TAKE OFF THAT PERFUME. I CAN SMELL IT FROM HERE. IT SMELLS LIKE A CITRUS EXPLODED."
She shoved the scroll back into Xiaolan's arms like it was on fire.
Then she stood there, chest heaving, braids slightly askew, face still burning, staring at Xiaolan with an expression that was trying very hard to be murderous but was mostly just mortified.
"The perfume has your name on it!" Xiaolan shot back.
"So what?! You wore it?" Chen Mingyuan almost screamed.
"So?! You gifted it! You're insulting your own gift!" Xiaolan retorted.
"And?! You're going to defend it? What, you like it?" Chen Mingyuan's face almost contorted.
"No! Of course not! I meant— you are right, it smells bad and you gifted it!" Xiaolan talked so fast it was almost like rapping. "It means you don't know how to send gifts!"
Crack.
That was the sound of Chen Mingyuan and Lin Xiaolan turning to stone and cracking instantly, overlapping with the snap of a twig.
Nearby, under a plum blossom tree, stood a woman. Lin Yorou.
She had the look of something that had grown in the dark. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, with blue veins visible at her temples. Her hair was long and straight, so black it seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.
The dried red robes she wore were intentionally loose, falling past her shoulders like a curtain of ink.
Seeing two pairs of eyes intersect toward her, she waved her hand casually. "It's okay. You can continue. I'll keep watch."
Mingyuan's head felt like it was going to explode before she finally calmed herself down. She took a breath, then another, and said, "Yorou. Finally, you're here."
"Wait, before all that!" Xiaolan grunted, then the words came out like a gatling gun. Fast, desperate, terrified of not getting a chance to explain.
"This isn't what it looks like! I wasn't—I didn't...the scroll isn't for me! I mean, it is, but not for that! I was investigating! There was a maid, Su Meng, I think, or maybe just weird, but she had a candle and then I grabbed the scrolls and chased her because she was going to tell everyone I was studying that and I'm not...I mean I am studying, but not that kind of studying, and then I got lost and ended up here and you were swinging your sword and I didn't even see you and then the sword was at my throat and—"
She stopped. Gasped for air.
Mingyuan stared at her.
Yorou, who had just emerged from the shadow of a plum tree, also stared at her.
The two of them exchanged a look that said, without words: What is wrong with this person.
"...You chased a maid," Mingyuan said slowly, "with a dual cultivation scroll. Because she caught you with it. And you wanted to explain."
"Yes!" Xiaolan nodded so hard her neck hurt.
"And you thought," Mingyuan continued, her voice flat, "the best way to do that was to run after her. Through the dark. Carrying the scroll. Where everyone could see you."
"I panicked!"
Yorou let out a sound that might have been a laugh. Or a cough. It was hard to tell.
Mingyuan pinched the bridge of her nose. "I need to sit down."
"There's a rock over there," Yorou offered helpfully.
"I wasn't talking to you." She turned to Xiaolan and said, "I know now, so you can leave."