Li Tan fell silent. Indeed, he had been somewhat negligent, underestimating how much officials of the Great Xia valued reputation. Based on his brief observations, Chengdu Cai was absolutely the kind of person who could abandon a woman even after knowing the reasons behind it.
Cheng Xuan’s face turned slightly red as she gently bit her lip, her expression resolute. It seemed as if she didn’t care whether Li Tan agreed or not, that she was perfectly fine being a wanderer. However, her slightly trembling fingertips mercilessly betrayed her.
Although Cheng Xuan’s background was somewhat tragic, she had, after all, come from a wealthy family. Even if she was merely a kept woman, she had never worried about food or clothing. If she were truly cast out of her home with no one to care for her, starvation might be the least of her worries—she might even be kidnapped by criminals and sold to a brothel, plunging her into an even darker life.
Li Tan softened again, just like he had with Zhang Cong. He really couldn’t bear to abandon Cheng Xuan to fend for herself. With a soft sigh, he nodded again. “If you’re willing, follow me then.”
Cheng Xuan immediately relaxed, a hint of excitement flickering in her eyes. However, due to her upbringing as a young lady, she was reluctant to show her true feelings and tried to maintain a composed expression. She slightly bowed her head and said, “Thank you, Master Li.” But immediately after, she grew flustered, her words becoming incoherent—not out of refusal, but simply out of shyness.
Although in the Nine Provinces most people married around the ages of fourteen or fifteen, many cultivators chose to remain unmarried in pursuit of the Dao. Even those who sought cultivation partners often avoided doing so during their prime cultivation years, between fifteen and thirty.
Therefore, Li Tan couldn’t help but imagine the complicated expressions his future senior and junior brothers would display upon seeing Cheng Xuan calling him “husband” affectionately. He found himself getting a headache just thinking about it. He wanted to keep a low profile, but with this situation, the entire academy would surely look at him differently—and not in a good way.
“Le Yin, you must believe me! I truly have only ever had eyes for you!” Li Tan silently declared his innocence to Tang Leyin, whose whereabouts were unknown, before telling Cheng Xuan to just call him Li Tan. Cheng Xuan, taking the opportunity, considered other forms of address. Initially, she thought of calling him “Master,” but it felt too formal. Since Li Tan had made it clear he didn’t expect her to be his wife, and yesterday’s wedding was to be treated as if it had never happened, after careful consideration, she settled on “Young Master” and had no intention of changing it.
Cheng Xuan likely didn’t want to feel like she was just tagging along and living off Li Tan without contributing. Her upbringing wouldn’t allow her to do so, which is why she was so particular about the formality of address.
“Master” felt too distant. Cheng Xuan thought it strange to address him that way when they were always together. She couldn’t quite bring herself to call him “Brother Li” either. Since she wasn’t family and wasn’t naturally outgoing, “Young Master” was the only suitable option left.
It sounded relatively intimate, like how a servant or page might address their master. Since Li Tan refused to accept her as his wife, this identity was the most appropriate.
Cheng Xuan thought deeply about it, even though she couldn’t fully understand why she was so fixated on such a small detail. But without clarifying it, she always felt uneasy inside.
Li Tan, however, wasn’t as sentimental. He didn’t particularly care what she called him. For now, he would keep Cheng Xuan by his side. If she wanted to leave in the future, he would make proper arrangements, or perhaps entrust her to his father’s care.
The night deepened. Even in a large city like Luoshui, many people had begun to rest, and the streets were noticeably emptier. Soon after the evening market closed, the streets became even quieter. Those still wandering about were mostly young men indulging in pleasure houses, though occasionally one might spot a few gentlemen with swords. Their identities varied widely—from wealthy men merely pretending to be martial experts, to martial artists with some basic skills, and even a few genuine cultivators.
The large lanterns at the Tian Ce Inn had already been extinguished, with only lanterns in essential areas still lit. On the second floor, Li Tan blew out the oil lamp and told Cheng Xuan she could go to bed while he sat on a chair to meditate and cultivate his energy.
“So Young Master Li really is a cultivator?”
“I wonder what realm he’s at. Probably just a late-stage cultivator,” Cheng Xuan thought to herself as she sat on the bed, curiously observing Li Tan. Although she had no connection to cultivation herself, due to her father’s influence, she had often seen cultivators in the mansion, some of whom were quite formidable. For example, the few presences Li Tan had sensed earlier. Therefore, she didn’t hold Li Tan in higher regard just because he was a cultivator—she was simply a bit curious.
Her nerves had been tense for days, but tonight, that tension suddenly eased, leaving her idle and curious about everything around her. This caged songbird, now free for the first time, was curious not only about Li Tan but about everything around her.
Staring out the window seemed endlessly fascinating, so she barely slept the entire night. The next morning, she was forcibly dragged out of bed by Li Tan. As someone who had always valued her image, this was probably the first time she had ever been so embarrassed, so she spent most of the way out hiding behind Li Tan.
“Where are we going?” Cheng Xuan asked curiously, glancing around.
Li Tan naturally replied, “To the academy. I need to meet someone.”
Cheng Xuan didn’t ask who that someone was; instead, she became more concerned about the academy itself. After learning that Li Tan would soon be applying, she became worried.
“Will the academy allow you to bring someone inside?”
“Just say you’re my servant girl,” Li Tan replied casually, not noticing the girl’s hidden embarrassment. “The academy is just a higher-level school. It doesn’t restrict students’ private lives, and you don’t necessarily have to live inside. By the way, didn’t your father give us a house? We can stay there for now. I’ll go see that person first, then check out the house.”
Chengdu Cai had indeed given them a house, along with the deed. Its location was conveniently near the academy, probably a gesture of guilt and compensation since his conscience hadn’t completely died.
“Stay close to me. Ahead is the market, it’s very crowded. Don’t get lost.”
Li Tan reminded her.
Cheng Xuan pouted slightly in dissatisfaction. “I’m not a child anymore. I know these things.”
“Save it. Your self-care ability is worse than a child’s.”
Li Tan mercilessly teased. Thinking about it carefully, he was genuinely worried she might get lost, so he simply took her hand.
Li Tan had no emotional intent—he truly just didn’t want to waste time searching for her later. However, Cheng Xuan felt a little shy, her cheeks turning red. In fact, it was the first time she had ever held hands with a man in public. But soon, she understood Li Tan’s good intentions—the market was indeed very crowded, shoulder to shoulder, noisy and bustling. If she had continued to follow slowly behind as before, she probably would have lost him in no time.
Perhaps because of their previous wedding ceremony, Cheng Xuan didn’t feel strong resistance toward Li Tan. Combined with the sense of gratitude for being taken in, she quickly adapted to being held by him and soon shifted her attention elsewhere.
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