Chapter 219: Drunk, Not Knowing Heaven in the Water

Ning Changjiu leaned in, slowly closing the distance to her face, his gaze fixed on her eyes, as Lu Jiajia instinctively leaned further back.

Her clear Sword Heart fluttered slightly in disarray, and the faint blush on her face deepened to a flush. Beneath her slender, curled eyelashes, her beautiful eyes seemed to hold a shimmering, watery gaze, bright yet hazy, like the misty ripples on an autumn lake.

She lightly bit her lip, her heart quickening as she heard him call himself 'Master' and then mention 'punishment'.

The affection between her and Ning Changjiu had long been an unspoken understanding. Now, having crossed what they thought was the line between life and death, reunited after a long separation, the emotions they had harbored were far too intense to be calmed by sitting together for a day with a cup of clear tea.

Lu Jiajia looked at his face, still fair and seemingly youthful, yet she was a full eight years older than him. In the past, he had always smiled and called her 'Master' from behind her; now, not only were their roles reversed, but he was pressing himself upon her…

Thinking back now, even his gentle smiles from before seemed to hold a hint of mischief.

Lu Jiajia tried to calm her serene Sword Heart, but he was so incredibly close that she could almost hear their synchronized heartbeats and breathing. Deep within her Sword Heart, the ice and snow that had accumulated over two years began to melt once more, revealing the softness buried beneath.

Ning Changjiu gently pressed her shoulders, looking at the white-robed Sword Immortal beneath him, and asked again, "My good disciple, do you understand?"

Lu Jiajia bit her lower lip tightly, still unaccustomed to such a condescending address. She averted her gaze, and scenes, like withered blossoms falling in the evening breeze, flashed through her mind. The watery gleam in her clear eyes intensified, and her jade-like body, enveloped in white, became softer. Her eyes cast down slightly, she softly hummed an 'Mmm,' her proud demeanor not yet fully faded from her face, but her tender red lips had already yielded.

"Mmm… I understand," Lu Jiajia murmured, then closed her eyes and lay back. The grass mat on the ground brushed against her back, tickling slightly.

She was already imagining the scenes to follow. What Ning Changjiu had said earlier about 'Yin and Yang harmonization' and 'hammering sword arts'—she wasn't foolish; she naturally understood. However, when those words were applied to herself, she had never before envisioned it. A slight desire to retreat bloomed in her heart, but her body was pinned, unable to move, so her long legs tightened considerably.

But Lu Jiajia had never, ever expected that Ning Changjiu's words were to be taken literally…

Ning Changjiu led Lu Jiajia outside the straw hut, handed her a sword, and said, "Come, let Master see the results of your cultivation over the past two years."

Lu Jiajia's face remained cool. Looking at Ning Changjiu's faint smile, she couldn't help but recall the thoughts that had churned in her mind moments before. Her serene demeanor carried a hint of resentment, though the blush on her face hadn't completely faded.

Reluctantly, she took the sword and said, "Yes, Master."

Ning Changjiu stood aside, watching Lu Jiajia take the sword and move to an open space, where she stood with her sword poised, her white robe fluttering in the night breeze.

Ning Changjiu asked, "How are your acupoints?"

Lu Jiajia drew her sword and calmly replied, "Both the Cloud Qi and White Mansion acupoints fully recovered six months ago, and my Sword Embryo has also advanced significantly."

Ning Changjiu nodded gently, smiling. "Begin."

Lu Jiajia was already an immortal on the verge of the seventh level of the Purple Court. Simply standing gracefully, her sword intent wove a crisscrossing net around her.

Lu Jiajia nodded, then began her sword display.

The moonlight was like a flying waterfall composed of countless fireflies, glowing softly by the abyss, like a luminous ribbon piercing the sky, encircling the entire night. It was as if a galaxy, casually plucked from the mortal world, illuminated Lu Jiajia’s figure as she wielded her sword, making her appear like a spirit of the night. She didn't seem to be practicing swordplay, but rather singing and dancing. The ends of her hair, imbued with starlight, resembled the most beautiful ink brush in the world.

Through the gaps in the sword light, Lu Jiajia caught sight of Ning Changjiu's smiling face. Her carefully maintained serene expression melted once more, and a faint smile unconsciously curved her lips.

The starlight gradually dimmed, falling onto her robes, gently shattering, then vanishing.

Lu Jiajia gracefully sheathed her sword, beautiful beyond compare.

Ning Changjiu’s smile remained calm, but within him, a surging tide had erupted. After all, he was only eighteen years old in this life, and youthful ardor was inevitable. The woman who had haunted his dreams now stood smiling before him. All the poems ever written for reunion seemed to be footnotes to their moment. How could he possibly restrain himself?

But Ning Changjiu still calmed his Dao Heart. He smiled faintly and said, "It seems my disciple has been quite lax in her cultivation these past two years. Though your realm has advanced, the variations in your sword moves are noticeably rusty, and the interplay between auxiliary and main swords is even worse than when you were in the Longevity Realm."

Lu Jiajia, who had been expecting praise, felt her face grow colder upon hearing Ning Changjiu's words. She knew Ning Changjiu was speaking the truth. For the past two years, she had focused solely on cultivation, only aiming for realm advancement to reach the Five Paths sooner, neglecting the refinement of her sword moves. Thus, while her sword intent had reached a state of effortless mastery, the sharpness of her sword techniques remained at a pre-Purple Court level.

But was this the time for such talk? It was too much of a damper!

Lu Jiajia was annoyed, and the starlight in her clear eyes transformed into a subtle, sharp sword light.

Ning Changjiu asked, "What? Are you disagreeing with Master’s critique?"

Lu Jiajia, not being an unreasonable woman, softly said, "I will diligently practice my sword moves in the future."

"In the future?" Ning Changjiu asked with a smile. "What about now?"

Lu Jiajia looked puzzled. "Hmm? Now? Disciple doesn't quite understand."

Ning Changjiu said, "As my favorite disciple, your sword moves are so careless, naturally, that's unacceptable. Although I pity my disciple, I cannot exempt you from punishment."

Lu Jiajia took a deep breath. She dimly knew that Ning Changjiu was using this as an opportunity to further temper her proud spirit… What kind of master constantly seeks to humble his disciple? Unreasonable.

She held out her hand and said, "Punish me then."

Ning Changjiu gently pushed her hand back. "This is a hand for holding a sword; I couldn't bear to strike it."

Lu Jiajia let out a soft huff, gently returned her sword to its sheath, and asked, displeased, "You... what do you want?"

Ning Changjiu gently played with her soft hair and said, "Remember to use honorifics when speaking to Master."

Lu Jiajia sighed, thinking, 'He just returned today, and he's endured so much hardship. I'll humor him a bit, consider it compensation for not being by his side all these years…'

She softly asked, "How does Master wish to punish disciple?"

Hearing this, Ning Changjiu looked at her gentle, submissive expression, suppressing the rising heat in his lower abdomen. He held the hand that was returning the sword to its sheath, then, holding her hand, gently drew the sword out and casually stuck it into the soft earth nearby.

"Hmm?" Lu Jiajia was slightly confused, not knowing what Ning Changjiu intended. Then, her body trembled, and she couldn't help but let out a soft cry. The world spun violently before her eyes, and she instinctively chided, "What are you doing?"

Ning Changjiu abruptly pulled her hand, embraced her, then carried her to the wall and gently set her down. He unfastened the scabbard from her waist, weighed it in his hand, and, smiling, pointed to the wall, saying, "Lean over."

Lu Jiajia’s heart twinged. She looked at the scabbard in Ning Changjiu’s hand, then imagined herself with her back to him, hands on the wall, and vaguely understood. She could no longer remain calm, her cheeks flushed. She whispered, "You... Master, what are you going to do?"

"Punishment, naturally," Ning Changjiu feigned sternness.

Lu Jiajia imagined the humiliating posture, her earlobes burning red. She temporarily set aside her dignity and pleaded, "I... Disciple knows her mistake, Master, please spare me this time. I will certainly practice my sword diligently from now on."

Ning Changjiu’s tone, however, immediately grew sterner, almost commanding: "Lean over! Hands on the wall!"

His words gave a sense of undeniable command. Lu Jiajia’s emotions stirred, and she unconsciously turned around. After a slight hesitation, she leaned forward, her tender, jade-like hands pressing against the rough earthen wall. A black sash was still tied around her waist, cinching her slender waist tightly. The curve descending from her spine seemed to form a sudden break at this point, while the lower part of her skirt, like a flowing hem, stretched her smooth lines with immense tension, creating a convex curve of irresistible beauty.

Ning Changjiu took a deep breath, holding the scabbard in his right hand, and pressed down on Lu Jiajia’s slender waist with his left, making her arch her back even more.

Ning Changjiu said, "Today, Master will properly punish this disciple who has been lax in her sword practice."

Lu Jiajia's hands pressed against the earthen wall, her nails digging in slightly. Her head was bowed, her beautiful hair hiding her face. Though she couldn't see what was behind her, she knew she was in an extremely embarrassing pose. Hearing Ning Changjiu's words, she instinctively hummed softly, and then, that hum was drowned out by another sound, turning into a pained cry.

"Whack!"

The wooden scabbard, like a discipline ruler, descended sharply and cleanly. The soft, rounded area indented, and gentle lines vibrated from within outwards, spreading from where the scabbard struck.

Though Lu Jiajia had been mentally prepared, the shame intertwined with the pain immediately struck her heart, making her earlobes burn hot.

She immediately thought of how she used to publicly strike Ning Changjiu with a ruler... his grudge seemed incredibly strong.

Several more crisp sounds followed in quick succession. Lu Jiajia’s jade-like legs tensed, and her hands gripping the wall tightened further. Fortunately, only the two of them were here; if anyone from the Four Peaks had witnessed this scene, their Dao Hearts would likely shatter.

"Disciple, you are quite familiar with the sect rules and regulations. How many strikes should be given for disrespecting Master and being lax in sword practice?" Ning Changjiu paused slightly and asked.

Lu Jiajia felt the pain behind her. She was utterly mortified, her mind a mess. Ning Changjiu finished speaking, and before she could answer, she received another strike before finally reacting. She said, "Each should receive thirty strikes of the discipline ruler…"

She had initially wanted to say fewer, but fearing it was a trap Ning Changjiu set, to then accuse her of deceiving her master or something, she stated honestly, "Each shall receive thirty strikes of the discipline ruler."

A total of sixty strikes.

Ning Changjiu nodded gently, and then crisp slapping sounds and swaying 'snowy waves' occasionally echoed in the night.

Pain and shame mingled and surged. Lu Jiajia's Sword Heart found no peace. The dignified demeanor of a Master, carefully maintained over the years, was being shattered with each strike. She imagined Ning Changjiu's current expression... He, he was clearly eight years younger than her, yet she was agreeing to be disciplined by a boy eight years her junior…

'I must be ill…' Her face was flushed, as if she had been drinking all night.

But that complex sensation, intertwined with pain, was so familiar.

Yes, long before their parting, when she was still nominally his Master, Ning Changjiu had once held her and spanked her lightly, not too hard, not too soft. All those memories felt like yesterday, an indelible dream, and a certain thread of emotion between them had been infinitely amplified in the days that followed, including that one disciplinary spank.

Later, on many late nights, she had even broken off bamboo branches, attempting to replicate the force she remembered, treating that deeply impressed spank as an anchor, fearing that Ning Changjiu would never return and her memories would be diluted by time.

But she could never quite simulate that feeling, and each time she recalled it, she felt equally ashamed and irritated, so she would break the withered branch and toss it out the window.

Now, it seemed many broken, withered branches had accumulated outside her window.

Actually... deep down, she had been secretly hoping for this, hadn't she?

Now, that long-lost sensation swept over her again, bringing with it memories of fighting alongside him against the Nine Infants. The feeling of mutual reliance in life and death was so intense, undiminished even after two years apart.

She had initially just placed her hands on the wall, but then her body gradually softened, and her slender, pale forearms also draped onto it. Ning Changjiu occasionally asked embarrassing questions, and her replies turned into soft, pained moans.

Suddenly, the sounds stopped. She thought the punishment was over and was about to get up, but her body was lifted by Ning Changjiu.

The world tumbled before her eyes once more. She was face down, her beautiful hair hanging loose, her lower abdomen pressed against something… She suddenly realized she was now lying across Ning Changjiu’s lap. The hard, wooden sensation had changed into a hand—that damnable hand was steadily dismantling her years of accumulated Master’s dignity, transforming her into a compliant, gentle disciple.

The crisp sounds continued without pause.

"Do you know your mistake?" Ning Changjiu asked.

What mistake was there? He clearly just wanted this… Lu Jiajia understood in her heart, but to be punished like this by a boy eight years her junior—how could she, a Sword Immortal whose sword art and cultivation realm were both unparalleled, maintain her composure?

"Disciple knows her mistake…"

"Mmm-hmm…"

"Master, please forgive me."

But the more she apologized, the more Ning Changjiu intensified his actions. Amidst the continuous pattering sounds, Lu Jiajia lay softly, limply. After a long while, the downpour transformed into a gentle breeze sweeping over the hills, and the spring rain turned into the essence of spring.

Ning Changjiu, too, could no longer restrain himself. He lifted the beautiful disciple's graceful, jade-like body from his lap, and just as he was about to lean in for a kiss, Lu Jiajia gently pressed against his chest, pushing him back slightly.

The woman's exquisite face was burning hot.

Ning Changjiu asked, puzzled, "Hmm? Has disciple become addicted to being spanked, wanting to talk back to Master again?"

Lu Jiajia softly said, "It’s midsummer now; the lotus flowers in Lotus Pond Town have bloomed. You once said you’d take me to see them."

Ning Changjiu recalled the time from over two years ago, looking into her intoxicating eyes. "Yes, perfect. I also have three stories to tell you."

Ning Changjiu entered the long-unvisited Lotus Pond Town. The night in the town was so tranquil. He and Lu Jiajia walked through winding alleys, borrowed several jars of aged wine from Zhang Qieyu’s old residence, then walked hand in hand along the moonlit path. By the lotus pond, they borrowed a lotus boat and together pushed off into the water, drifting into the shimmering, star-dusted pond.

On the way there, Ning Changjiu casually cut a section of bamboo, carved it into a flute with his sword, and placed it to his lips, playing a tune extemporaneously.

The flute music drifted gently, and the boat drifted gently.

Lu Jiajia stood at the bow, gazing at the sprawling galaxy and listening to the lingering flute music, she couldn't help but recall her inner demon trial.

That inner demon trial felt like a prophecy; in the illusion, he was indeed her Master. Back then, they often traveled rivers, playing the flute and dancing together. The graceful melodies were like a dream from years past.

"Years flow like water; how many in a lifetime? At dawn, I watch migrating swallows, my heart travels to Jianghuai; at dusk, I gaze at Altair, my emotions race to Yangyue. Mornings, I grieve a thousand times and weep; nights, ten thousand thoughts turn my intestines… Unaware of life, unaware of death…"

Lu Jiajia sang along with the flute, her soft voice like a whisper in the summer night wind, carrying a dream she long wished not to wake from, lingering together in the pond covered with water lilies.

The lotus boat drifted further from the shore.

The flute music gradually faded.

Dense lotus leaves gathered around the boat, bringing with them a moist, watery scent.

Ning Changjiu looked at her, standing at the bow and gazing into the distance, his expression gentle. He couldn't help but tease, "Jiajia, why aren’t you sitting beside me?"

Lu Jiajia turned slightly, her voice tinged with resentment. "How dare you ask?"

Beneath her sword robe, her soft flesh likely still bore faint red marks.

Lu Jiajia looked at the pond reflecting the starlight and softly said, "I heard about this place long ago, but because of the Sect Master's Succession Assembly, I rarely traveled for pleasure, so I only ever heard it described as picturesque, but was never a person in the painting myself."

Ning Changjiu looked at the pond full of lotus flowers. The last time he had been here was two years ago, and then, his Junior Sister had been sitting beside him. He softly asked, "Where is Xiaoling? Is she well?"

Lu Jiajia said regretfully, "You returned a bit late. A month ago, Xiaoling was sent by the sect to cultivate at the Ancient Spirit Sect in the Central Land. She waited for you for two years and didn't see you return."

Ning Changjiu was silent for a moment, then brightened and smiled, "Life always brings reunions. Next time I go to the Central Land to see her, I imagine Xiaoling will have become a little Sword Immortal by then."

Lu Jiajia smiled and said, "Miss Xiang’er has also been waiting for you."

Ning Changjiu thought of the girl who was pure and beautiful in white and alluring in black, his expression drifting. He asked, "What realm is Zhao Xiang’er in now?"

"You don’t need to say her full name," Lu Jiajia softly huffed. "She entered the Purple Court realm over half a year ago; her cultivation has advanced extremely quickly."

Ning Changjiu pondered for a moment, then whispered, "Then I’ll keep my return a secret from her for a while."

"Why?"

"I still have some cultivation issues. If I see her now, I’ll probably get another beating." Ning Changjiu sighed inwardly, thinking that if it weren’t for helping the Sword Spirit with good deeds, he would have headed straight to Zhao State to see her after tonight. He softly said, "Now I am your Master; my status is different. If she beats me again, I imagine my disciple would feel pain too."

Lu Jiajia laughed softly. "Master, do you also have moments of fear?"

Ning Changjiu looked at her clear and peerlessly beautiful face, her eyes curved in a smile, and felt a slight itch in his heart. Even the crescent moon in the sky seemed to have had its light stolen by her.

"Disciple dares to speak like this; it seems Master has been lax in his discipline," Ning Changjiu chuckled.

Lu Jiajia remembered Zhao Xiang’er’s threats to spank her when they argued, and her heart warmed. She mused quietly, "Truly a childhood sweetheart couple; their thoughts and actions are quite similar."

Ning Changjiu detected a hint of mockery in her words. He smiled, wrapped his arm around Lu Jiajia, and gently pulled her down. Not daring to sit, Lu Jiajia softly knelt before him, her white gown softly spreading around her.

Ning Changjiu asked, "Does disciple harbor resentment?"

Seeing him feign ignorance, Lu Jiajia replied, "Yes, I resent that you returned too late. All these lotus flowers have already gone to sleep. If it were daytime, this place would be beautiful."

Ning Changjiu was unconcerned. "If Jiajia says they should open, then open they shall."

The authority of time slowly unfurled, enveloping the lotus pond.

Such is life; one must use things from one woman to please another… Ning Changjiu thought guiltily as he wielded the authority of time.

Lu Jiajia looked around.

The lotus flowers, as if oblivious to the passage of day and night, gradually awakened as the lotus boat glided forward.

Deep within the lotus blooms, a pure fragrance enveloped them.

The starlight blurred her vision.

The blooming lotus flowers tenderly embraced her.

The anticipation of years past was now fulfilled. Lu Jiajia was speechless, feeling as though her heart was filled with blooming snow lotuses.

Yet, she still held Ning Changjiu's hand and softly admonished him, "Don't use your power recklessly."

Ning Changjiu held her soft body and simply asked, "Do you like it?"

"Mmm…" Lu Jiajia gently smoothed her hair.

The gentle evening breeze pushed the boat along. Amidst the lingering lotus fragrance, the tall lotus leaves seemed like sheltering umbrellas, and their figures became more indistinct in the starlight and moonlight.

As passion reached its peak, Ning Changjiu gazed at her exquisite, jade-like immortal face; the serene coolness in her eyes, the tender fragrance of her jade-like lips—all were beauties that could overturn the mundane world. Ning Changjiu pressed her shoulders and gently kissed her. They both closed their eyes, their subtly touching tongues like hushed whispers.

Ning Changjiu again leaned in, pressing Lu Jiajia’s soft, beautiful body onto the boat.

After their prolonged kiss, Lu Jiajia seemed to have been drained of all her strength. She lay on the boat, her white robe disarrayed, quietly looking at Ning Changjiu, her moist lips curved in a faint smile, no longer offering any resistance.

"I told you I'd tell you three stories," Ning Changjiu said.

"Hmm?" Lu Jiajia asked softly. "What are they?"

"Three fables. The first…" Ning Changjiu’s hand skillfully moved to her waist. "The first is 'covering one’s ears to steal a bell.'"

Lu Jiajia didn't understand why, but the jade belt adorning her waist had already vanished like a trailing cloud carried by the wind.

She instinctively tried to struggle but was held by Ning Changjiu’s hands. Thus, she watched, wide-eyed, as her diagonally-collared sword robe was gently peeled away. Beneath her congenital sword body, her skin glowed with an indescribable luster, like the most exquisite jade in the world, yet possessing the softness of youth.

Years after Ning Changjiu first saw her, when he removed her clothes to treat her injuries, this exquisitely beautiful body finally revealed itself like dissipating mist, slowly unveiling its undulating peaks. Every line carried a breathtaking beauty.

The jade belt wrapped around her chest was also undone. Everything was exactly as Ning Changjiu had described her with those eight words back on Heavenly Cave Peak; in truth, it was even more tempestuous than he had imagined.

Lu Jiajia pulled a lotus leaf to cover her face.

Then, her ears were covered.

It was a mere symbolic covering, almost completely ineffective. Instead, her hot earlobes were played with like precious antiques, like amber carvings, yet soft as jade.

As Lu Jiajia’s emotions surged, Ning Changjiu began to 'steal the bell.'

But how could that be a bell?

It was clearly an inverted jade bell.

This jade bell was like a rare, delicate and smooth treasure, appearing in the midst of the lotus pond. So, the birds of the night all wished to peck at it and steal it away, to claim it as their own.

The small bell on the jade bell was continuously pecked at. That rosy bell was like red porcelain from the Zhao Kingdom’s imperial kiln, small and exquisite, a singular masterpiece in all the world.

That small red porcelain bell trembled in the faint breeze, then was gently pecked up, pulled, and desired to be carried away by the restless 'little thief sparrow.'

But the small bell was connected to the jade bell; how could it be stolen?

This 'little thief sparrow' was clearly somewhat deluded.

But the little thief sparrow seemed unwilling to give up, pecking continuously, occasionally extending its sparrow tongue, as if to melt it.

With ears half-covered and the bell un-stolen, the 'mountains' began to rise first; slender areas twisted, the sound of the wind like a woman's soft moans, and the splashing water like a beauty's tender murmurs. Wind arose, breaking the duckweed, as if a mountain rain was impending, about to unleash a torrential downpour.

"The second story: The Jade Rabbit pounding red medicine."

This little thief sparrow, unable to steal the bell, began to tell the second story.

The mist covering the other half of the mountains gradually dispersed with the wind.

This place was not as majestically curved as the previous one; instead, it was narrow and flat, slender and captivating, untouched by even a speck of dust. Only in the center of the mountain range grew a patch of hazy, fragrant grass, clustered and exceedingly delicate, like a lonely island on the verge of being submerged by wind and rain.

The lotus boat rocked, water rippled, and the shimmering moonlight became increasingly fragmented. In the swirling luminescence, her white clothes and skirt draped entirely into the water.

The prelude to this story was very, very long, like a thousand-winding wind arriving from a distance.

But stories always have a beginning.

Yet Lu Jiajia always felt Ning Changjiu had deceived her; that was no Jade Rabbit from the story, but clearly a powerful jade dragon soaring through the four seas.

In the Guanghan Palace, the Jade Rabbit held its jade pestle and gently pounded it into the trough. Within that jade trough was a Red Medicine with delicate petals.

This was a celestial flower, unfolding in layers, blooming only once in its lifetime. So, the jade pestle's pounding was almost a sacrilege; it slowly crushed the flower, pounding it into fresh red medicinal juice, some adhering to the jade pestle, some gently flowing out.

It bloomed only once in its lifetime, and it withered only once.

The Jade Rabbit pitied its wilting, hearing its pained moans, and so its movements became even gentler and slower. But the Red Medicine was already crushed, its jade essence flowing fragrantly. This was the most beautiful bloom in the human world; who could bear not to pluck it?

So the pounding of the medicine quickened. The flower seemed to have been watered for ten thousand years; from its seemingly thin petals, juice continuously seeped out, flowing in trickles and streams.

The second story had finished without them realizing it.

"The third story: 'It does not sing, but once it sings, it startles all,'" Ning Changjiu whispered by her ear.

Lu Jiajia was puzzled; she could still understand the first two stories, but what was the third one?

Soon, she understood.

She, it turned out, was the one in the story.

This time, she became the immortal sparrow in the story, drinking ice and sleeping in snow for over twenty years, remaining silent. And today, as the second story reached its climax, the immortal sparrow, as if struck by an arrow, suddenly spread its wings and shrieked, letting out a clear, high-pitched cry. With this cry, all the white snow on the mountains collapsed, transforming into surging white waves.

In the medicine trough, where the Jade Rabbit pounded, the clear spring no longer merely trickled; it became a thousand-mile-long cascading waterfall.

It did not sing unless, but once it sang, its cry was long and unbroken, plaintive like a lament.

On the other side, her dark hair also trailed in the water, rippling with the movement of the boat.

Ning Changjiu finished telling her the three stories.

These were stories she would never forget in her lifetime.

The jars of wine were opened, and they began to drink. Amidst the spilled wine's fragrance, there were several more instances of 'orioles singing and swallows dancing,' like a flourishing dynasty indulging in revelry day and night.

On the lotus boat, they slept in each other's arms.

Only the serene moonlight and the vast starlit sky shone upon them, covering them with a thin blanket.

In her drunken dream, Lu Jiajia seemed to return to her inner demon trial. The lingering flute music was ceaseless, unable to be dispersed even by the spring wind.

She fumbled with her hand, retrieved the flute Ning Changjiu had casually set aside, and began to play.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't produce any sound.

Ning Changjiu hummed softly, vaguely opening his eyes. He looked at the captivating woman in her drunken dream, playing the flute under the moonlight. Her tilted profile was peerlessly beautiful, a dream he never wished to wake from.

Yet, the fish beneath the water seemed to hear the flute music.

The fish’s dream abruptly shattered, scattering into several ripples.

The lotus boat glided across the water, a boat full of serene dreams pressing upon the galaxy.