Volume One: The Youth Enters the World Chapter Twenty-Seven: Heartfelt Devotion

A gentle breeze brushed across the surface, ruffling the jade-green waters of the pond. Sunlight shimmered on the ripples, casting wave after wave of glimmering light. The water was so clear and bright that schools of fish gathered at the surface, blowing bubbles as they swam back and forth. In a pavilion by the Zhou family’s pond, Fang Tian and Zhou Xiaodie sat together, talking and laughing, both visibly delighted.

When Fang Tian agreed to let Zhou Xiaodie show him around, the two had strolled through the Zhou family estate. After wandering for quite some time, Fang Tian noticed Zhou Xiaodie seemed a little tired and suggested they find a place to rest. She caught her breath, nodded, and together they sat down in the pavilion.

The estate was vast, and along the way, Zhou Xiaodie had tirelessly described every sight to Fang Tian, talking as they walked. It was only natural she felt a bit weary.

At that moment, Fang Tian couldn’t help but marvel at the size of the Zhou family estate. In recent days, he had only traveled between the training grounds and Zhou Xiaodie’s residence, rarely exploring elsewhere. Today’s tour had truly opened his eyes.

As they rested, Zhou Xiaodie didn’t fall silent. She looked at Fang Tian with a smile and began sharing amusing stories she had encountered, recounting every interesting memory she could remember, as if she hadn’t spoken to anyone in a long time. Perhaps she had long yearned for someone with whom she could share her heart.

Fang Tian found her stories delightful and quietly listened, never interrupting. Captivated by her animated expressions, he felt a gentle warmth in his heart—a sense of comfort and contentment. He wished only to listen in peace, leaving all other thoughts behind.

As Zhou Xiaodie continued, her stories drifted towards her mother—how wonderful and kind she had been, how tenderly she was treated. Yet as she spoke, the laughter faded from her face, her expression dimmed, and tears glimmered at the corners of her eyes. She fell silent.

Seeing her sorrow, Fang Tian felt a pang in his heart. He gently reached out to wipe away her tears. Zhou Xiaodie didn’t flinch, lost in her sadness.

Fang Tian didn’t ask what was wrong. He disliked prying into others’ grief, knowing it was enough simply to stay quietly by her side. If Zhou Xiaodie wished to speak, she would do so in her own time.

After a while, Zhou Xiaodie seemed to compose herself and, with a hint of embarrassment, said, “Fang Tian, I’m sorry for letting you see me like this. I must look rather pitiful.”

But Fang Tian felt no such thing. He smiled and replied, “Not at all—you’re just as beautiful as ever.”

Zhou Xiaodie’s eyes sparkled at his words, a smile returning to her face. Her mood visibly lifted. Looking at Fang Tian, she teased, “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you? I bet you’ve said that to other girls before.”

Fang Tian scratched his head out of habit and replied, “No, I haven’t. I’ve never said that to anyone else.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Seeing Fang Tian’s earnest reply and awkward sincerity, Zhou Xiaodie felt a flush of satisfaction. It proved, she thought, that her appearance was enough to attract his attention.

As her spirits recovered, Zhou Xiaodie began to converse with Fang Tian as usual and finally explained the reason for her sorrow.

From her words, Fang Tian learned that Zhou Xiaodie’s mother had fallen ill and passed away when she was just seven years old. Her mother had not been a cultivator, but a simple mortal. Against his family’s wishes, her father had married her mother out of love. The three lived happily for a time, but mortals were far more vulnerable to illness than cultivators. When a serious sickness struck, her mother could not withstand it. Her father sought help everywhere, but all he received were words of helplessness. Zhou Xiaodie remembered clearly the sight of her father kneeling in despair at the bedside, while she herself stood by, weeping uncontrollably—the person dearest to her suddenly gone.

Fang Tian felt a deep empathy for human frailty and the uncertainty of life and death. He, too, had known similar loss. He reached out and gently patted Zhou Xiaodie’s head, as if to comfort her.

The sudden gesture brought a blush to Zhou Xiaodie’s cheeks, especially as Fang Tian was gazing at her so tenderly.

Hearing her story had reminded Fang Tian of his own mother, though his circumstances were different. His father had never spoken of her, and every time Fang Tian asked, he was met with silence and told not to inquire further. Even the villagers knew nothing. Over time, it had become a knot in his heart.

Noticing Zhou Xiaodie’s growing embarrassment, Fang Tian quickly withdrew his hand, scratching his head and laughing awkwardly.

Zhou Xiaodie didn’t mind. It almost seemed as if she enjoyed the feeling. When Fang Tian pulled his hand away, there was a hint of reluctance in her eyes.

Afterward, Zhou Xiaodie asked Fang Tian about his own life. He smiled and shared some of his past, though when it came to the details of his cultivation, he gave only a vague account. The truth was too astonishing to be spoken aloud, and the risks of sharing it were too great for him to bear.

Sensing he didn’t wish to say more, Zhou Xiaodie refrained from pressing further. Instead, their conversation turned to lighter topics. After all, no one wishes to dwell endlessly on sorrow.

And so, the two sat in the pavilion, talking and laughing as time slipped by.

As dusk approached, the sky gradually dimmed. The fish in the pond had long since vanished from sight. A cool breeze swept through, carrying a chill that made Zhou Xiaodie unconsciously wrap her arms around herself.

Unaware of how long they’d lingered, Fang Tian noticed the hour growing late. He stood and said to Zhou Xiaodie, “Xiaodie, it’s getting late. Shall we head back?”

She rose as well, looked at him, and nodded. “Alright, Fang Tian. Let’s go back. It’s getting a bit cold. Next time, I’ll show you around again.”

Fang Tian nodded, and together they walked back.

When they reached the gate to Zhou Xiaodie’s courtyard, she paused and stood still. After a moment, she turned to Fang Tian, as if something weighed on her mind.

He looked at her, puzzled. “Xiaodie, what’s wrong? Aren’t you going in?”

Slowly, Zhou Xiaodie spoke, “Fang Tian, after you leave Maple Leaf Town, will you still keep me in your thoughts?”

“I will.”

“Then I’m at ease. I wish you didn’t have to go. If only you could stay.”

Fang Tian fell silent. He knew he could not remain here—he had important things to accomplish. Otherwise, his life would have no meaning. Though these days had been joyful, they could not last forever.

After a brief pause, Fang Tian replied, “Once I’ve done what I must, I promise I’ll return to see you.”

But how long it would take, or whether he might fail along the way, he could not say. Uncertainty filled his heart.

“I’ll wait for you,” Zhou Xiaodie said with a smile. She stepped closer, rose on tiptoe, and pressed her lips softly to his cheek. Then she turned, opened her courtyard gate, and slipped inside, leaving Fang Tian standing stunned in the twilight.