As dusk fell, the Ye Family estate blazed with light. Ye Fan stood atop the gate tower, the residual warmth of the Jiuxiao Huanpei still lingering at his fingertips. The evening wind swept in, carrying the scent of blood and cooking rice, reminding him precisely of the first whiff of mortal life he had caught through the cracked door of the woodshed in the year of his rebirth. He was six years old back then, having just awakened the memories of his past life, when the old steward handed him half a piece of cold baked pancake and said, "Young master, you must be hungry." Now, as Xiaocui pushed her way out of the crowd holding half a baked pancake, that snowy night instantly flashed back to his mind.
"Young master." Xiaocui's soft voice, thick with a nasal tone, came from behind him. The maid had climbed onto the gate tower at some unknown point, her hair tips still stained with blood, yet she held the celadon teacup in her hands with absolute steadiness. "The kitchen brewed some calming soup. The Third Elder said you used your Inner World to deduce cultivation techniques today, so you need to nourish your Yuanqi."
Ye Fan turned around and took the teacup, feeling the light calluses on her palms. The girl had followed him for ten years, from hiding his clandestine study scrolls to charging into the battleground with half a baked pancake now. The fresh knife wound on the back of her hand was still seeping a pale red. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Does it hurt?"
Chapter 23