Meeting Mo Xian did not have any particular impact on Ning Zhen.
As Ning Zhen walked past Mo Xian, her steps were light and brisk yet firmly planted on the ground, feeling like a passing breath of spring wind.
On sheer intuition, Mo Xian felt that Ning Zhen was someone she could trust. Besides, situations often leave no room for picking and choosing—much like Mo Xian's current predicament.
"Excuse me..." Mo Xian wanted to call out to Ning Zhen, only to realize she could not think of an appropriate form of address.
Hearing her, Ning Zhen stopped, turned to look at Mo Xian, and waited for her to continue.
"Young master," Mo Xian finally managed. Though she had no idea whether it was proper for an ancient maiden to address an unfamiliar ancient gentleman as "young master," it was the best she could come up with. Encountering Ning Zhen's gaze, Mo Xian was instantly overcome with awkwardness, breaking out in a cold sweat.
Ning Zhen was remarkably handsome, with an exceptionally fine complexion that gleamed crystal-clear like snow. Noticing this, Mo Xian grew even more nervous. She had no idea what to say next. Given the gap between the ancient era and the modern world, Mo Xian truly did not know how to express herself.
"If the young lady has something to say, please speak freely." Ning Zhen spoke at an unhurried pace, her voice as warm and smooth as jade, bearing a striking resemblance to the musical notes Mo Xian had just heard.
Ning Zhen's voice seemed to possess a calming effect; listening to it, Mo Xian felt less nervous than before and gradually regained her composure, remembering what she wanted to say. Yet, current circumstances left Mo Xian in a state of utter embarrassment. She was in dire need of assistance.
"Um... could the young master tell me where I might find a household nearby?" Mo Xian phrased it in a way she felt Ning Zhen would understand. As she spoke, her gaze drifted about in a lack of confidence. Asking this way exposed both her distress and her helplessness, but she had no other choice. Only by doing so could she hope to receive Ning Zhen's help. Clearly, knowing nothing about who Ning Zhen was, Mo Xian chose to trust her—and that trust was premised on the fact that Ning Zhen looked like a good person.
Having finished, Mo Xian looked up at Ning Zhen. Their eyes met. Ning Zhen's eyes were very bright, filled with a look of inquiry that struck Mo Xian, causing her to lose her nerve and look away with a guilty conscience. Her grip on the reins tightened. Right now, Mo Xian looked like a wandering traveler, enveloped in an aura of destitution. She felt she ought to explain something, yet she had no idea how. After all, she could certainly not reveal that she was a time traveler. Crossing over from another era was out of the question; voicing such a thing would undoubtedly only deepen Ning Zhen's suspicions. Mo Xian's hands were already slick with sweat. Pondering for a few seconds, she casually offered, "I originally intended to visit some relatives, but passing through this area, I lost my way. Might the young master know where there are any dwellings?" To bolster her credibility, she deliberately claimed she was looking for relatives.
Mo Xian lacked any real conviction. It could be called a white lie—at the very least, one without malicious intent.
Traveling to find relatives, getting lost—even if it wasn't a long journey, the distance couldn't be short. To be traveling entirely alone, a young woman at that, without even a piece of luggage or a bundle, still raised plenty of red flags. Sure enough, one lie requires more lies to cover it up...
Ning Zhen's suspicions only deepened, her displeased gaze sweeping back and forth over Mo Xian, who was holding the horse. Ning Zhen was unsure how much of Mo Xian's story to believe.
Mo Xian began to sweat again. Restless and ill at ease, she tried to avoid Ning Zhen's cross-examining gaze. The oppressive pressure of that doubtful look made Mo Xian feel she had nowhere to hide and desperately wanted to escape, to clear herself of Ning Zhen's suspicion. Panic fluttered in her chest as she frantically searched for an explanation.
Ning Zhen was her only hope now, and her only path forward.
"I got separated from my family, and the bundle I was carrying was stolen along the way. Then I lost my way and truly have nowhere to go. I earnestly hope the young master can tell me where there are some houses. I will be endlessly grateful, and if we meet another day, I will surely repay your kindness handsomely," Mo Xian babbled anxiously. A sourness rose in the bridge of her nose, and her eyes filled with tears. Her distress was entirely genuine; the reality was far more awkward and wretched than what she had put into words, wasn't it?! With such a pathetic background story, perhaps Ning Zhen would show a bit of pity. Or perhaps Ning Zhen would lend a helping hand in exchange for a handsome reward. After all, Mo Xian had no desire to turn into the modern-day equivalent of the White-Haired Girl simply because of an inexplicable time travel.
Ning Zhen took in all of Mo Xian's panic, turmoil, and haste. Mo Xian's nervous, unworldly appearance lacked the hardened weathering of a seasoned traveler, making it quite possible that she had indeed lost her way. In her mind, Ning Zhen sorted through the information gathered during this brief encounter.
Although Ning Zhen found Mo Xian's story hard to believe, she did not write the person off entirely. Perhaps there were unspeakable difficulties she chose not to air.
As a healer, a benevolent heart was the most basic professional standard. Whenever someone needed help and it was within her power to provide it, Ning Zhen was always more than willing. Right now, all she had to do was tell the woman before her what she knew in order to help, and Ning Zhen was quite happy to do so. As for gratitude, she felt it wasn't strictly necessary, though she could feel Mo Xian's sincerity; as for a reward, she didn't take it to heart at all.
Having accepted Mo Xian, Ning Zhen's expression softened entirely, and her demeanor grew much gentler. Wearing her habitual faint smile, she said to Mo Xian, "Head north along the path you came out of here, and you can enter the city before dark." She gestured toward the path Mo Xian had just emerged from.
Ning Zhen's voice was lovely, gentle yet firm. Her courteous manner swept away the oppressive feeling of suspicion from moments before, leaving Mo Xian feeling somewhat relieved. The doubtful glare had severely strained her nerves, and she took a moment to adjust to the sudden shift in attitude. After a few seconds, Mo Xian politely said, "Many thanks for the guidance, young master. I am endlessly grateful. Until we meet again." With that, she even performed a rather dramatic clasp-fist salute, figuring that was how it was done based on television dramas.
Ning Zhen furrowed her dark brows—it was merely giving directions; there was no need for such grand formalities.
"It was just a small effort, the young lady flatters me." Ning Zhen kept up her lukewarm smile.
"Endlessly grateful, endlessly grateful," Mo Xian said from the bottom of her heart.
A single sentence had resolved all of Mo Xian's problems.
For a moment, Mo Xian felt a bit dazed and unreal, as if in a dream: she had met someone in the mountains, a handsome person with a snow-clear complexion who pointed out the way to the city and rescued her from a desperate plight. Ning Zhen had already turned and walked away, disappearing from view to continue on her own path. The gentle yet firm sensation of Ning Zhen's presence, like a passing spring breeze, still lingered in the air. Mo Xian stood gazing in Ning Zhen's direction, somewhat dumbfounded.
Recovering her wits, Mo Xian stepped out of the woods and onto the road. With hope swelling in her heart, her spirits lifted considerably. It felt as though every single problem would be solved once she entered the city.
Walking with a brisk step, Mo Xian cheerfully hummed her favorite tune.