Chapter 77: Yun Ranran of the Nine Provinces Academy

After saying those words, Chongli felt a pang of regret, but what was said could never be taken back, like water spilled on the ground. Yun Ranran let out a cold laugh, her tone laced with sarcasm, “Some people clearly knew I was Lian, yet had no intention of telling me that someone else was following me from the start~”

Perhaps it was a side effect of his shrunken form, but faced with Yun Ranran’s pressing questions, Chongli’s tongue felt tied. Yet silence would only betray a guilty conscience, so our esteemed master threw all dignity aside and said, “Wasn’t it meant to be a surprise for my disciple?”

Yun Ranran found it incredible. When she was still Lian, Chongli always kept her at arm’s length—he cherished her like a treasure, but spoke with her rarely. Now, seeing Chongli in this state, she could hardly believe her own eyes.

“Oh,” she replied.

That single syllable made sweat bead on Chongli’s brow. His disciple was no longer as easy to handle as before; in fact, she seemed on the verge of turning everything upside down. No, he must nip this rebellious thinking in the bud!

“Lian!” he called sternly.

Yun Ranran was caught off guard. It had been decades since she’d heard that familiar tone.

Seeing this worked, Chongli quickly put on a stern face. “Have you forgotten your master’s teachings?”

Yun Ranran didn’t respond for a long while, her gaze empty as if lost in memories. Chongli leaned in for a closer look, and in that moment, he realized—the innocent little white lotus was gone. The one before him was a black-hearted lotus!

“I’m not called Lian anymore. My name is Yun Ranran!” she spat through gritted teeth, grabbing Chongli’s oversized head.

Before he could pull away, Yun Ranran had locked him in place. Their faces were so close, separated by barely a millimeter; if either slipped, their lips would meet in the next instant!

Yun Ranran hadn’t expected things to escalate like this either. Her gaze dropped, watching Chongli’s Adam’s apple bob. She pursed her lips and let go of his head. “Ahem, waiter, bring the food!”

The young waiter, who had been watching the scene unfold, was practically rooting for the two to kiss. When the moment was interrupted, he was sorely disappointed, but at the mention of business, all his bad moods vanished. “Right away, honored guests!”

An awkward silence fell between them. Neither spoke a word.

Yun Ranran’s face was flushed deep red; getting her to speak now would be harder than making a pig climb a tree.

Chongli, suppressing the flutter in his chest, ordered two signature dishes and then fell into silence once more.

They ate as if they were both mute.

Nearby diners found the change perplexing. The two had seemed perfectly fine just moments ago, but then fell silent.

The innkeeper, sensing the chilly atmosphere at their table and fearing it might harm his business, summoned the young waiter, and they exchanged a few hushed words.

Soon after, the waiter approached Yun Ranran’s table with a broad grin. “Congratulations, honored guests! You are today’s lucky customers. To give you the full Cloudwater Pavilion experience, with this card, you two can enjoy a twenty percent discount whenever you dine together!”

He then lowered his voice conspiratorially, adding, “Please, don’t quarrel anymore. Miss, your husband is still so young—try to be more understanding. After all, a day as husband and wife is worth a hundred days of grace. Harmony brings happiness!”

Yun Ranran pointed to her own nose in disbelief, blushing like a boiled shrimp, unable to utter a word as her indignation choked her speech.

Couldn’t anyone see that, if anything, they looked more like siblings?

The guests, waiter, and innkeeper exchanged knowing looks. They thought, “Ha! We saw you two almost kiss. Siblings? More like a forbidden romance.”

Chongli, unfazed, took the discount card and dismissed the waiter with a few words. When he turned around, Yun Ranran had already built a barricade around herself with her arms.

Chongli chuckled, making Yun Ranran’s heart itch.

He reached a hand toward her face, and in a muffled nasal tone, Yun Ranran protested, “Don’t touch me!”

Chongli arched an eyebrow. “Such a temper? You always looked like this when you were angry as a child—just like a quail.”

Yun Ranran buried her head. “Stupid Chongli! Rotten Chongli! Don’t bring up my childhood!”

Chongli straightened up and stopped teasing her, lest the black-hearted lotus bite. “Alright, alright, I won’t mention it again. Are you still angry?”

Yun Ranran snorted, looking every bit like a wife refusing to hand over her secret stash of money.

Seeing she was no longer upset, Chongli relaxed. After all, having known each other for more than two centuries, he had long since figured her out.

After leaving Cloudwater Pavilion, Yun Ranran returned to Jiuzhou Academy. As for Chongli, he would seek her out himself when the time came for new students to register.

In the time it took for a meal, two more talented seedlings appeared. The elders were overjoyed. “Oh ho ho! This year we can make an exception and admit two extra students. Look at this batch—each one is destined for greatness!”

One elder stroked his snowy beard, his eyebrows and eyes scrunched together in a jovial expression. “How wonderful! The more students the academy admits, the more lively it becomes. Hahaha…”

Once again, Yun Ranran marveled at how easily amused the older generation was.

At a glance, she noticed Puyu had returned as well, standing nearby and watching her with an ominous look.

Muttering to herself about how odd this was, Yun Ranran went to sit beside Zitan.

Before long, dark clouds gathered above. The admissions process this year was proving unusually difficult—one moment the heat was unbearable, the next a torrential downpour threatened to flood the academy.

Yun Ranran muttered to herself, wondering if the heavens meant to drown Jiuzhou Academy.

A peel of thunder cracked overhead, making her jump, and the rain poured down.

Many lost their composure, while others, following the example of the instructors, used their spiritual power to conjure umbrellas and held their ground.

Yun Ranran noticed a few students who had strayed from their groups and were left behind. Some tried to cut to the front, only to be thrown back by the guards, who glared at them with such hatred it seemed they wanted to skin them alive. Yun Ranran looked away.

If she helped such people once, they would only expect it again. Their hearts had already been consumed by jealousy and resentment. Such people would remain slaves to those feelings all their lives, until death.

Because Yun Ranran’s injuries were still not fully healed, Zitan spoiled her more than ever, sending her back inside the academy to wait for the rain to stop.

Back in her room, Yun Ranran rested her chin on her hand, watching raindrops trace circles on the ground outside.

Suddenly, she recalled a memory from her teenage years—another heavy rain, and little puddles everywhere.

Back then, she’d been playful, always wanting to jump in puddles. The water was muddy and splashed onto her clothes.

She couldn’t see Chongli’s expression at the time, but she could sense his speechless exasperation, tinged with a hint of disdain.

He tossed her a clean dress and took her muddy clothes to the river to wash by hand.

Originally, Chongli had wanted to throw the soiled dress away, but she had loved it dearly.

Looking back now, even though Chongli never did chores or cooked anything but slightly charred grilled fish, he’d actually washed her clothes by hand.

Yun Ranran grinned wildly, then, looking at the puddle outside, kicked off her shoes and jumped in, determined to relive her childhood.

A couple of students passing by darted away faster than rabbits, fearing that Yun Ranran might have another “attack”—which would be difficult to explain if it happened.