Chapter 33: The Little Green Tea Xia Baiqian

Leng Qingqiu stood silently, her eyes frosty, watching Chu Huaizhou gently pat Xia Baiqian’s back.
She sighed inwardly, her face betraying nothing.
Here we go again.
Having known her sisters for so long, she didn’t claim to fully understand them, but she had a good grasp.
Unlike the straightforward third sister, the second sister seemed cute and innocent but was secretly cunning, her schemes well-hidden.
If not for once sensing Xia Baiqian’s presence through a symbiotic doll near Master in the dead of night, Leng Qingqiu wouldn’t have suspected her true nature.
Her cunning surpassed even that flirty fox’s.
Right now, Xia Baiqian’s pitiful sobbing was half genuine concern for Master, half a ploy for his affection.
Those teary eyes were likely smugly sizing her up, plotting to turn the tables.
Without this, she’d never close the gap Leng Qingqiu had built.

Leng Qingqiu’s mood soured, her aura growing colder, but she didn’t expose her.
If she did, Xia Baiqian would drag her down, revealing to Master that they weren’t true partners.
That would be disastrous.
So, reluctantly, she let Xia Baiqian have her moment.
But Xia Baiqian, still unsatisfied after being comforted, suddenly looked up, her teary gaze accusing.
“Sister Qingqiu! Why didn’t you tell me about Master’s amnesia?”
“I know you didn’t want us to worry, hiding it to heal Master alone.”
“But your little sister could’ve helped share the burden! Sob sob sob…”

Exactly. After careful thought, Xia Baiqian decided—sorry, Sister, but she had to lower Leng Qingqiu’s standing with Master.
Otherwise, she’d have no shot at winning him.
Share Master with her? No way—Master was hers alone!
She’d protect the world’s best Master!

Hmph, I knew she’d pull this.
Leng Qingqiu, anticipating this, snorted inwardly, her lips parting to retort—but no words came.
She had no good excuse. This was entirely her fault.
If she truly aimed to heal Master, she could’ve countered.
But she hadn’t sought ways to restore his cultivation or memories.
Xia Baiqian’s words cornered her, highlighting her “neglect” to make herself look devoted.
Meeting Master’s questioning gaze, Leng Qingqiu felt a pang of guilt and looked away, clutching her robe, lips pursed.

Chu Huaizhou, learning Leng Qingqiu hadn’t told his other disciples about his amnesia, grew more certain they weren’t partners.
He raised his voice, ready to scold her—her antics had worn him out these days.
But seeing her embarrassed expression, he softened, recalling three hundred years ago.
Once, Leng Qingqiu, wanting to honor him, snuck into his room and brewed rare Tianshan Sword Brow tea, a sect reward said to enhance sword intent comprehension.
Unaware it lost potency in air, she brewed it all and left it on his table.
When he returned, the tea was useless.
Angry, he called her out, and her expression then mirrored now.
Sigh, Qingqiu means no harm.
What could he do? She was his disciple—spoil her, he supposed.

Sternly, he said, “Alright, Baiqian, don’t trouble Qingqiu. She was thinking of me.”
Leng Qingqiu, expecting a reprimand, froze at his unexpected defense, her eyes widening in disbelief, heart racing.
Xia Baiqian’s eyes flashed with reluctance but quickly shifted to a sweet smile. Seizing the chance, she snuggled into Master’s arms, cooing, “Then Master can’t hide things from us anymore!”

Although Xia Baiqian’s sudden arrival disrupted plans, the auction was still on.
Chu Huaizhou wore a sword robe with three sword stripes, marking a Golden Core deacon, not his sect leader robe.
Why does Qingqiu’s storage ring have my clothes, and why do they fit perfectly? I don’t know, and I don’t dare ask.
Seeing both in old Heavenly Origin Sword Sect robes, Xia Baiqian giggled, pulling an identical robe from her storage ring to join their “nostalgia game.”
To stay authentic, she reluctantly donned boots, her usually pristine jade feet—untouched by worldly dust due to her high cultivation—now covered.
Chu Huaizhou, for some reason, felt a twinge of regret.

The trio walked the streets, Xia Baiqian clinging to his arm as she did in his memories, pressed close, radiating intimacy.
“Master~ I want candied hawthorn. Buy me some, pretty please?”
“Sure, I’ll get you one.”
“Yay! Master’s the best! Let’s share bites, okay~?”
Her fluffy pink hair bounced as she hopped, her face glowing with joy, warming everyone around like a little sun.
Chu Huaizhou, infected by her cheer, smiled genuinely, about to agree—then shivered, glancing at Leng Qingqiu.
“Uh… you eat it. Master’s not into sweets lately.”

Leng Qingqiu, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with him, was a walking winter in the summer heat, her face dark.
Unable to cling to him as she had days before, her mood was foul.
The scene felt oddly like three hundred years ago—just missing the third disciple.
Xia Baiqian bit into the candied hawthorn, eyes squinting happily, though she was secretly studying Master.
His cultivation, no matter how she probed, seemed only late Golden Core, even with her specialized gu.
Having obsessively tracked Master with gu, she knew his habits.
His walk lacked its usual guardedness.
The stern authority in his brow was gone, his speech lighter, less cryptic.
The ever-present fatigue and distance in his eyes had vanished.
He was… like a child now.

She’d worried he was baiting her, luring her to confess her feelings only to scold her for improper thoughts.
Now, it was clear—he’d truly lost his memories and cultivation.
Who dared do this?
She didn’t buy the tribulation excuse. Her healing gu found no tribulation residue in his body—perfectly healthy.
While this boosted her chances with Master, she couldn’t tolerate someone attacking him.
If she found the culprit, she’d toss them into a gu refinery, letting ten thousand gu devour them!