Chapter 845: Long Time No See

Chapter 845: Chapter 845: Long Time No See

Tianyan Sect. Peak of One Big Happy Family.

The Peak of One Big Happy Family, which had been lively when Chen Baiqing brought Lin Luoyu back, had gone quiet again after Li Yingling and the others departed.

San Dong was tidying the peak as always — tending the herb garden of healing spirit plants, always ready to provide them should an injured senior sister or the sect master need them.

Though San Dong knew they might have better pills to take and perhaps wouldn’t need the spirit plants it grew.

But as a friend, it always wanted to do something, even if it wasn’t needed.

San Dong understood a principle: doing something was always better than doing nothing.

For example, adjusting the seed ratio of the flower bushes at Wanhua Ridge could make it even more beautiful.

Even without the adjustment, Wanhua Ridge was still beautiful — but adjusting it made San Dong happier.

The sect master had said:

Whether doing something makes you happy is actually an important measure in itself.

Tianyan Sect’s grand formation formed an interlocking barrier, but snowflakes drifting down with the seasons could pass through it.

Peaks that disliked snow could dispatch disciples to clear it, or activate a peak-level formation to block it. But most peaks didn’t activate the barrier — if they really disliked it, the disciples handled it.

After all, for a cultivator to deal with a bit of snow, it was just a matter of conjuring a few techniques. Simple and convenient.

San Dong folded its arms and gazed at the snow-covered landscape stretching white in every direction:

"Qian Qing! What big snow! Is it bigger than last year’s?"

Qian Qing held a broom in her hands, her gaze lifting to the snowflakes already weighing down the branches:

"Probably."

"Then do you think after tonight we could build a snowman? I want to build everyone."

"If it keeps snowing this hard, probably."

"Mm-hm. Last year it was a bit lacking — Cui Hao’s was half a head short."

Qian Qing turned to look at San Dong, the corner of her mouth curving slightly.

The cultivation world had no years in the mortal sense. Immortals didn’t really celebrate birthdays, and there weren’t festivals. They had so many years that they didn’t care how many festivals a single year held.

For Spring Festival, they didn’t put up couplets or say "auspicious New Year."

There was no spring planting — only continuous spring rain.

Qian Qing had lost count of how long she had lived on the Peak of One Big Happy Family.

She only remembered this was the third time she had watched snow with San Dong.

She didn’t know what day it was, what season — only that continuous rain was spring, heavy humid heat was summer, the cool breeze meant autumn, and snow meant winter.

San Dong had cultivation to sustain it — immune to heat and cold. Its clothes were worn purely for appearance, with no warmth to speak of, so it wore the same thin garments year-round.

Qian Qing was indeed a high-rank martial artist. In emergencies, she could rouse her blood energy to adjust her body temperature. But she wasn’t self-contained like a cultivator — she couldn’t just ignore the cold without conscious effort.

Nobody enjoyed clenching their fists continuously, so Qian Qing needed to change clothes with the seasons.

San Dong tilted its head and noticed Qian Qing watching the snow. After a moment’s thought, it said quietly:

"Is it boring staying with San Dong? San Dong only knows how to grow spirit plants, sweep floors, and feed spirit fish."

Qian Qing heard this and turned a warm gaze toward San Dong, her tone even:

"San Dong only knows those things. But I have San Dong."

San Dong’s eyes crinkled into narrow crescents with delight, and it said happily:

"San Dong likes Qian Qing."

"Qian Qing likes San Dong too."

Qian Qing’s answer came quickly. The old her might not have said something so sentimental.

Jianghu folk — bold in love and vengeance. Grudges settled with a blade, debts repaid with wine.

But after all this time, Qian Qing understood that San Dong was a simple-hearted flower spirit who cared deeply about its friends.

A direct expression of fondness meant more to San Dong than any gift.

Qian Qing smiled: "Tomorrow, let’s build a snowman together. If there’s not enough snow, we’ll just build it a little smaller."

"Okay!" San Dong swooped familiarly onto Qian Qing’s shoulder, which was no longer as gaunt as before.

Qian Qing tilted her head slightly toward San Dong and asked:

"What shall we do today?"

"Maybe find Qinghe and have it take us out for good food."

"That wouldn’t be right — the one paying would probably be Sect Master Chu again."

"San Dong has spirit stones! As the sect’s Grand Guardian, San Dong gets an extra stipend from the sect master." San Dong patted its hands, grinning slyly. "Besides, the sect master said he’s rich and isn’t afraid of San Dong eating him out of house and home."

San Dong patted Qian Qing’s shoulder: "Today San Dong is treating. Let’s bring Qinghe too — Qinghe is San Dong’s friend. Qinghe looks the most genuine when it eats."

"Sure." Qian Qing smiled. She wasn’t going to dampen San Dong’s enthusiasm.

After all, since Chu Xingchen was so famous, his name alone could get Qinghe to extend credit. It probably wasn’t a big deal.

If they really couldn’t pay it back, they could always dump the debt on that broke monk Yuankong.

After all, wasn’t it Yuankong who had dumped her like a debt in the first place?

Qian Qing started walking toward the mountain gate to return the broom to its place.

The snow picked up a bit, so San Dong raised a barrier with spiritual energy to shield them.

In San Dong’s eyes, Qian Qing was an ordinary mortal without cultivation — someone who needed full protection. Getting snow on her could make her sick.

Qian Qing’s steps were slow and measured. Since coming to Tianyan Sect, she had rarely practiced martial arts. Perhaps her perspective had broadened and she felt martial arts were just "that." Perhaps San Dong’s easygoing nature was too infectious, and she had grown a bit lax.

Or perhaps it was because the person she had wanted to protect turned out to be someone she could never protect, no matter what.

Qian Qing felt her vigilance had diminished considerably. She walked to the mountain gate and set the broom by the door — a broom she had made herself.

Yuankong was a thoroughly broke monk. He had only ever gotten serious about money when raising little Qian Qing, making sure she never went hungry and ate well. But beyond that, he was truly two empty sleeves in the wind.

So many small things — brooms, tables, chairs — Qian Qing could make herself.

They might not look pretty, but they always worked.

The snow grew heavier.

Qian Qing stood at the gate, looking down the winding steps. She exhaled softly, and a puff of warm breath rose into the air.

San Dong immediately followed suit — a large and a small puff of warm air rising together.

Almost simultaneously, two laughs sounded.

Qian Qing was about to head back and ask San Dong to call Qinghe when her footsteps suddenly froze.

Through the white expanse of snow, a yellow figure was climbing the steps, one at a time.

One glance, and Qian Qing’s feet would not move.

It was far away, the snow was heavy, and the figure was hazy.

But Qian Qing knew — the person coming was Yuankong. Perhaps she had stared at that dejected silhouette for so long, etched it so deeply.

San Dong’s gaze also drifted into the distance. It glanced at Qian Qing’s eyes, where her emotions were barely contained, and naturally understood who was coming.

It had wanted to speak for Qian Qing, to give Yuankong a proper scolding.

But in the end, San Dong couldn’t bring itself to say a word.

Because San Dong understood: for the truly important people in your life, even when they’ve made mistakes, you can’t bear to really scold them.

Qian Qing stood at the gate.

Yuankong climbed, step by step.

"Little Qing. Long time no see."

Yuankong wore a smile on his face, standing before Qian Qing just as he had that first time.

Qian Qing smiled — a smile of relief.

Then without the slightest hesitation, she drove a fist straight at Yuankong’s face with everything she had.

After all, he was a dignified Golden Core cultivator. A mortal woman’s full-power punch was nothing to him.

Qian Qing surged her blood energy and threw the punch without holding back.

BOOM!

A thin layer of snow scattered in the wind.

Yuankong landed elegantly on the ground.

He gazed at the vast expanse of snow.

Not done yet.