Chapter Eight: Su Meng’s Fury

Before even reaching the main gate, he saw his aunt standing at the entrance, dressed in a pale green skirt and blouse. Her skin was as fair as snow, and though she wore no makeup, she radiated a beauty that moved the heart. One felt that such a person ought to possess all the finest things in the world.

Su Meng and Su Qinqin were beauties of contrasting temperaments. Setting aside his own feelings, Luo Changning could not decide which was more beautiful—one was like water, the other like fire, each with her own allure.

Why had his aunt never married? If she had delayed her youth for his sake, was that not a pity?

A warm, gentle smile blossomed across her face as Su Meng said, "Ning, the dishes have just been set out. Your aunt is waiting to eat with you."

Su Meng was strict with Luo Changning in matters of studies and conduct, but in daily life she cared for him tenderly, never meddling too much, always maintaining the perfect balance—a truly exemplary elder.

Seeing that his aunt never questioned his comings and goings or his changes, Luo Changning understood this was out of respect; she treated him as an adult, not out of neglect.

"Alright, Aunt, what dishes do we have today?" Luo Changning’s eyes curved into crescents, like a little glutton, amusing Su Meng so much she covered her face and laughed softly.

"You little rascal, when have Qing Gu and I ever prepared something you don’t love?" Su Meng had always regarded Luo Changning as her own child. He had been sensible and clever since he was young, almost like a small adult. Though her greatest comfort was his maturity, her deepest affection was for his well-being. Now, seeing him display a child’s side, she was naturally delighted.

Yet, Ning was still inexperienced—his actions inevitably lacked careful consideration...

Su Meng sighed inwardly, took Luo Changning’s hand, and walked with him to the pavilion in the front courtyard.

A gentle breeze blew, the fragrance of flowers filled the air. The stone table was laden with delicacies, accompanied by chilled lotus seeds, tempting one’s appetite.

Luo Changning picked up his bamboo chopsticks and placed a piece of snake meat in his mouth, ready to savor the meal.

"Huh? How did the dark kid turn into a fair-skinned boy after just one outing? Am I seeing things?" Qing Gu set the kelp and pork bone soup on the table, staring at Luo Changning as though she’d seen a ghost.

She sighed inwardly: I’ve lived forty years and still haven’t seen everything. If word gets out, women yearning for fair skin would break our door down. I only knew that Spring Grass could preserve beauty, never heard of it turning someone from dark to pale.

"Qing Gu... I don’t know how it happened either. After taking the Meridian Pills, I turned out like this," Luo Changning blushed. He had always been frustrated that he was fairer than most women; only in the past two years had he managed to tan, and now he was even paler. Oh, the sorrow!

"How many meridians have you opened now, young master?" Qing Gu, being only a martial artist of acquired skill, couldn’t perceive the subtlety within Luo Changning’s body.

"Had some luck today—bought some defective Meridian Pills on Martial Street, took twenty in all, and opened all twelve primary meridians." Luo Changning half-truthfully replied, knowing pills weren’t the only reason.

"Twenty pills!" Qing Gu cried out in shock.

Crash! Su Meng dropped her bowl to the ground, stood up abruptly, and seized Luo Changning’s hand to check his pulse. Her delicate body trembled; she forced herself to calm down and examine him carefully, only relaxing when she found he was unharmed, then embraced him tightly.

The faint fragrance she carried was more intoxicating than any flower. Her alluring eyes glistened with tears, making her appear heartbreakingly vulnerable.

"Thank heavens you’re alright. My Ning, Ning..." Su Meng wept softly, overwhelmed by fear.

"Aunt, what’s wrong? Is there something wrong with the Meridian Pills?" Luo Changning had never seen his aunt so agitated. She was always gentle, serene, rarely showing any outward emotion.

Su Meng rebuked him, "Meridian Pills should never be taken more than five at a time, or there’s a risk of your body exploding and dying. How could you take so many without care? If something happened to you, what would your aunt do? Ning, you are everything to me—I cannot lose you, never!"

Seeing Luo Changning today, she’d already been surprised by his transformation, but since he seemed fine, she hadn’t pressed further. Now, learning he’d nearly crossed the threshold of death, she was filled with guilt and terror.

She was a woman of keen insight; Luo Changning was still young and inexperienced—his eyes could not hide their hatred. Two years ago, he had suddenly declared his intent to learn martial arts. Su Meng, clever as she was, naturally guessed he had discovered the truth behind Luo Feng’s death and wanted to avenge his father.

Luo Feng, in his day, was the foremost swordsman in the world and a renowned prince of the Phoenix Flame royal family. His fame was legendary; Luo Changning’s discovery that his father had died in battle was not surprising.

"So there are so many rules when taking Meridian Pills. Master only told me they could open the meridians, never mentioned any prohibitions." Luo Changning was embarrassed, feeling as though he’d narrowly escaped disaster, and his curiosity about the blade at his waist grew.

Su Meng’s beautiful eyes flickered. "Perhaps he assumed you knew. I should have told you these things sooner."

"Aunt, don’t say that. It’s not your fault." Luo Changning protested anxiously.

Qing Gu, who was attending nearby, raised her brows in anger. "Of course it’s not the lady’s fault. That so-called master must have had some ulterior motive, letting the young master take the pills without warning of their dangers."

"Qing Gu, fetch another set of bowls and chopsticks," Su Meng had regained her composure, released Luo Changning, and returned to her seat.

"Yes, miss." Qing Gu understood Su Meng’s intentions. Though she was indignant, she knew her place and went to the kitchen for utensils.

Though Qing Gu and Zhong Bo held positions above ordinary servants in the Su household, they were still servants. They could joke and play in daily life, but could not overstep their bounds or criticize their masters.

Zhong Bo was honest and steady, and possessed fine medical skills. Now that Wen Rugong had left, the medical hall was managed by Zhong Bo, and it ran smoothly.

Luo Changning sensed his aunt wished to end the topic, knowing the matter was settled. He shook his head and continued to eat heartily.

After the meal, Luo Changning went to the well in the rear courtyard to bathe.

He stripped off his clothes, took up the wooden ladle, and poured water over himself, scoop by scoop.

The water washed across his muscles; under the blazing sun, steam curled faintly. Anyone witnessing this scene might have suffered a nosebleed.

Though only twelve, Luo Changning was fair-skinned and handsome, yet his muscles were not for show—they were full of energy, like a leopard poised to spring.

Indeed: slim when clothed, muscular when bare.

But muscles did not mean strength. On the Yaohua Continent, many who appeared frail were actually martial masters. With a single hand they could reach the heavens, shed their mortal bones; true masters relied not on physical strength but on the power of their soul.

After rinsing himself clean, Luo Changning stood barefoot beside the well, waiting for the sunlight and breeze to evaporate most of the water, then picked up his undergarments from the rack and dressed.

Wait—what’s this at my lower dantian?

The human body has three dantian: the lower stores essence, the middle stores qi, and the upper stores spirit.

Internal martial artists cultivate their internal strength at the lower dantian; innate martial artists transform heaven and earth’s spiritual energy into true qi at the middle; and transcendent martial artists generate soul power at the upper dantian.

Luo Changning looked closely—it was a miniature version of the blade. He rubbed it with his hand; the mark remained.

Could this be the bond between me and the blade...

As Ying Long entered the rear courtyard, he saw his good friend bare-chested, rubbing his abdomen, his gaze fixed on that spot, and was instantly petrified.

"Ahem, brother, I know you’re growing up now, certain things are starting to develop, and sometimes it’s hard to control yourself. But you ought to be mindful of the impact—there are two women in the household, you know. This isn’t appropriate."