Chapter 12

In an instant, a streak of red light shrieked through the air, striking toward Shen Anzhi before anyone could react.
The attacker wore white robes. Luo Wubai’s crimson whip, coiled at his waist, lashed out like a venomous serpent. The moment his fingers clenched, three feet of scarlet light tore through the air, aiming straight at Shen Anzhi’s pale cheek.
Shen Anzhi’s gaze chilled. He lifted a hand and caught the whip mid-strike. Blood threaded from between his fingers. A thrill of concealed violence flashed through his eyes as his mouth curled into a faint, mocking smile. His fingers tightened with explosive force, lashes casting a shadow over the ruthlessness beneath his calm as he poured spiritual power into the whip.
The crimson weapon shattered.
Under a flurry of glittering fragments, Shen Anzhi tilted his lips in a lazy, languid smile. Amid the gasps of the watching disciples, he brushed the dust from his bracer as if nothing had happened, ignoring the blood seeping from his palm.
“That whip was made from the finest Red Spirit Python hide,” Luo Wubai choked out, clutching his chest as though it physically hurt. “Near indestructible and priceless and you, ” His anger snapped, eyes blazing at Shen Anzhi. “Shen Anzhi, are you courting death?”
“Enough!” Jiang Yu’s gaze had already fixed on the blood staining Shen Anzhi’s hand. She frowned at both Luo Wubai and Shen Anzhi. “The sect rules are strict. No private fighting.”
Seeing her like this, Luo Wubai had originally assumed she was only pretending to treat Shen Anzhi better because she’d found a new way to amuse herself. But now it was clear she was genuinely taking his side. His heart twisted with resentment and jealousy.
And Shen Anzhi stood there so “naturally” behind her, as if it were perfectly reasonable to use her as a shield.
Jealousy burned hotter in Luo Wubai’s chest. His brows knit tightly, and he demanded, unwilling to believe it, “Senior Sister, why are you protecting him like this? That whip was… the spirit weapon you gifted me.”
His eyes were wounded, gaze locked on Jiang Yu.
Shen Anzhi glanced at the hint of red rising in his face.
‘I’m not just protecting him’, Jiang Yu thought silently. ‘I’m protecting all of you, and my own life.’
She could hardly say that aloud. Clearing her throat, she met Shen Anzhi’s eyes first, then spoke, voice righteous and firm. “Junior Brother Shen is under my protection. From now on, if anyone makes trouble for him, they’re making trouble for me, Jiang Yu.”
She added, after a beat, “And for Fengyun City as well.”
Luo Wubai and the four boys beside him all went rigid. They shuffled her aside like nervous lackeys, each one watching Shen Anzhi warily.
“Senior Sister, is Shen Anzhi threatening you?” one whispered anxiously.
Inside, Jiang Yu was waving a tiny handkerchief and crying bitter tears. Outwardly, she kept her face smooth. “Who could threaten me?” she replied calmly.
Something in Shen Anzhi’s expression eased. His gaze swept the group, then drifted back to Jiang Yu, lingering a heartbeat longer.
“Could it be…” Luo Wubai’s pupils shrank as if struck by lightning. He clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. Remembering how often Senior Sister’s gaze had drifted to Shen Anzhi, his expression darkened.
Among the five, the youngest, Qingshan, rolled his eyes around in his head, rubbed his swollen cheek, and said at last, “Since Senior Sister has spoken, let’s let this go.”
Reluctantly, all five cupped their fists in a half-hearted salute.
Jiang Yu gave Shen Anzhi a strained smile, her beautiful eyes blinking as if to say, ‘Please don’t explode over this.’
Her disciples traded worried looks, clearly calculating something behind their eyes. Jiang Yu thickened her skin and shooed them off one by one. “Go back for now. If something comes up, you can find me at my residence.”
When they finally left, she wiped away sweat that didn’t exist on her forehead and turned, only to collide with Shen Anzhi’s gaze.
He arched a brow, having just watched a thoroughly entertaining farce. His thumb stroked slowly over the coin, idly toying with it. On his other hand, blood trickled from his wrist down onto the white jade tiles, blooming into twisted red blossoms. His face remained calm, not a muscle shifting.
Did he really not feel that…?
Jiang Yu stepped closer and hesitated for a moment before reaching out. Her fingers brushed his skin as she lifted his wrist, a jolt like static skittering from her fingertips up her arm.
Shen Anzhi forced down the surge of sharp, inexplicable excitement that rose in his chest. Lowering his lashes, he looked down at her butterfly-shaped hair bun, then at the pale curve of her cheek. She seemed to be… worried about him. He buried whatever restless emotion flickered in his eyes.
Since he didn’t yank his hand away or snap at her, Jiang Yu swallowed her tiny flicker of nerves, uncorked the medicine bottle, and sprinkled powder carefully over the wound as she wrapped it. “I heard about what happened yesterday,” she murmured. “From now on, if they give you trouble, tell me. I’ll stand up for you.”
The words left her feeling unexpectedly guilty.
After all, the harm the original had done was real. Those things had actually happened. She couldn’t just pretend they had never existed.
“Are you hurt…?” Jiang Yu lifted her eyes and blinked.
“Is Senior Sister worried I’ll lose to the likes of them?” Shen Anzhi’s lips curved, but his voice was edged with ice. His gaze dropped to the bloody bandage, white cloth wrapped crookedly around his palm by her clumsy hands, tied off in some strange knot he had never seen before.
“Of course not,” Jiang Yu replied, tone completely serious. “I trust you, Junior Brother.” Her pale fingers moved deftly now, looping the bloodstained bandage into an intricate knot. With a light tug on both ends, a neat bow blossomed on his palm.
Satisfied, she smiled, and when she saw his eyes resting on the knot, she lifted her chin. “Pretty good, right?”
“Senior Sister’s knot…” His lashes lowered slightly. “It is… delicate. I’ve never seen one like it.”
At this distance, there was no trace of the usual demonic malice in him. The Shen Anzhi before her felt almost split away from the version she thought she knew.
Realizing what she was thinking, Jiang Yu startled inwardly.
She couldn’t think of him like that.
Reining herself in, she pointed at the bow on his hand. “This is called a ‘butterfly knot.’ It’s a kind of knot from my hometown.”
Looking down into her bright, sparkling eyes, Shen Anzhi felt an odd, quiet emotion rise in the depths of his chest. He couldn’t quite name it, part curiosity, part amused interest.
He leaned in and took her wrist, lifting his hand so that her pinky could hook lightly at one end.
With that tiny pull, the bow slipped loose and fell apart.
“Again,” he said softly.
Jiang Yu froze for a heartbeat. Their eyes met; warmth traveled through the place where his fingers circled her wrist.
She slowly drew her hand back, then lowered her gaze and carefully tied the knot one more time.
Shen Anzhi watched in silence. Once was enough, he’d already memorized it.
When she finished, Jiang Yu folded her hands behind her back, as if afraid she’d fuss with it more.
He noticed the small, unconscious gesture, a flicker of something shifting in his chest before smoothing out again.
Jiang Yu admired her handiwork, then smiled. “Junior Brother, doesn’t it look nice?”
“So-so.” Shen Anzhi stared at the bow for a moment, then his gaze slid to her cheek. Something occurred to him, and his tone dropped. “Senior Sister, how do you plan to find the herbs I need?”
Jiang Yu looked up. “This trip down the mountain to Zezhou, come with me. I remembered a few clues. We might be able to find those rare herbs.”
He stepped closer, oppressive in the way only he could be, and watched her blink up at him in confusion. A faint thrill flashed in his eyes. His long, slender fingers, cool and smooth as jade, pinched the still-warm coin and let it trace an almost nonexistent line across the pulse in her neck.
“Senior Sister, there is one thing I cannot abide in this life.”
His voice lowered, brushing against her skin like the edge of a blade.
“I hate being lied to.”
Jiang Yu’s heart skipped. “I understand.”
In a surprisingly good mood, Shen Anzhi rolled the coin between his fingers, slowly withdrawing his hand. The faint warmth that clung to the metal felt… foreign, yet oddly pleasant. He took a few steps forward, then turned his head slightly toward the girl in scarlet.
“I’m not so weak that I’d be injured by a pack of fools,” he added lightly.