Spoiled Eldest Miss x Two-faced Madman

CHAPTER 44: A Strange Heat in Her Chest

　　Jinshe Town wasn’t big, but the Lantern Festival it held was incredibly lively. Several streets were strung with glowing lanterns, lighting up the entire town like a flowing river of light from afar.

　　An Jiu and Ming Yi made their way through the streets, surrounded by people in every direction.

　　It felt like the entire town had come out tonight to join this grand celebration.

　　“There’s a pitch-pot game over there! I want to give it a try!” Ming Yi pointed excitedly at a stall.

　　This lantern festival had its own Jianghu flair. Unlike the usual festivals where lanterns were bought or won by solving riddles, things here were different.

　　An Jiu saw a stall where people could win lanterns by playing pitch-pot, another where lanterns were hung extremely high for guests to retrieve, and even one where lanterns were tied with a thin string, and players had to shoot the string to win the prize.

　　Besides lanterns, many food stalls had popped up, and the air was filled with the scent of snacks and the buzz of the crowd.

　　Ming Yi ran off eagerly toward the pitch-pot stall, while An Jiu looked around and was drawn to a nearby sugar painting stand.

　　She glanced once at the focused Ming Yi, then quietly turned and walked away.

　　The sugar painting stall was run by an elderly man with white hair and beard, dressed in worn-out clothes. He stood behind the stall with his hands tucked into his sleeves, looking kindly and peaceful.

　　Sugar paintings weren’t as popular as those flashy martial arts stalls. Probably only kids liked them, so this place was rather quiet with no customers in sight.

　　An Jiu stepped up to the stand and focused on the sugar paintings displayed.

　　They were all made in advance for display — the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl meeting on the Magpie Bridge, the twelve zodiac animals, the God of Longevity offering a peach of immortality — each one was vivid and lifelike.

　　“Miss, would you like a sugar painting? This old man can draw anything,” the old vendor said kindly.

　　An Jiu pointed to herself with curiosity. “Can you draw me too?”

　　The old man squinted with a smile. “Of course, just wait a moment, miss.”

　　As he spoke, he took a good look at An Jiu, then lowered his head, picked up a bamboo stick, scooped up some syrup with a copper ladle, and began pouring it onto the oiled paper.

　　The sweet scent of the syrup slowly drifted in the air. An Jiu didn’t blink as she watched. Slowly, a human figure took shape on the bamboo stick—graceful posture, flowing skirt, hair styled in double-loop buns, with a few ribbons trailing through the strands.

　　Then the little face became clear—big eyes, a perky nose, lips slightly curved in a smile. The features were delicate and beautiful.

　　“Here, take a look, miss. Do you think it looks like you?” the old man asked, holding it out to her.

　　An Jiu was just about to take it when a slender, jade-like hand suddenly reached out from the side and took the sugar painting before she could.

　　Startled, An Jiu instinctively turned to look—and saw a tall figure dressed in snowy white.

　　Behind him stretched the glowing river of lanterns. The man stood tall with a straight back, his white robes fluttering lightly. He looked just like an exiled immortal—graceful, untouchable, and out of this world.

　　“Fei Yi!” As her gaze landed on the silver mask on his face, An Jiu’s eyes lit up, her voice filled with joy.

　　The man’s lips moved. “It looks a lot like you.”

　　The surrounding crowd was noisy, and An Jiu didn’t quite catch it. “What?”

　　He stepped closer. Their sleeves brushed together as he leaned down slightly, his dark eyes soft with a faint smile. He spoke gently, “The sugar painting—it really looks like you.”

　　An Jiu looked down at the sugar painting and reached out to take it. Their fingers brushed briefly before parting.

　　She didn’t notice, but Fei Yi lowered his hand, tucking it into his sleeve—yet unconsciously rubbed his fingertips together.

　　“I think so too,” An Jiu said with a grin. She reached into her sleeve pocket, pulled out a few copper coins, and tossed them to the old man.

　　“This... Miss, you gave too much,” the old man quickly called out.

　　But An Jiu was already pulling the white-robed man into the crowd. Her crisp voice floated back, “No need for change—consider it a tip!”

　　“This looks so nice, I almost can’t bear to eat it.”

　　An Jiu frowned, holding the sugar painting in one hand, clearly conflicted.

　　Pei Ji lowered his eyes slightly. His gaze drifted to the small hand tugging on his sleeve, then to the girl walking beside him.

　　She seemed completely absorbed in her thoughts, completely unaware of how intimate their current posture was.

　　Traditionally, men and women were expected to maintain proper distance. Even free-spirited folks from the Jianghu didn’t usually tug each other around in public. Like this... they were definitely crossing a line.

　　By all logic, he should say something.

　　“Fei Yi, what are you looking at?” the girl suddenly asked.

　　Pei Ji lifted his eyelids. His gaze was calm as he replied casually, “Nothing.”

　　She didn’t press the matter. Instead, she suddenly held the sugar painting out to him.

　　“Here. For you.”

　　Pei Ji froze for a moment and subconsciously asked, “Why are you giving it to me?”

　　The girl lifted her little face, smiling brightly at him. Her dark, shiny eyes reflected the streetlights—and were full of his shadow.

　　With a mischievous look in her eyes, her voice turned soft and sweet: “This is me. I’m giving me to you. Don’t you want it?”

　　Pei Ji’s dark lashes lowered slightly, casting a small fan-shaped shadow beneath his eyes. His gaze was deep and unreadable.

　　He stared at her. After a moment, he slowly took the little sugar figurine.

　　His thin lips parted slightly, and he let out a low: “I do.”

　　As the sugar painting left her hand, the girl instantly pulled her fingers back like she’d been shocked. The boldness she’d just shown disappeared completely. Her cheeks flushed red as she turned her head to the side, pretending nothing had happened, no longer looking at him.

　　But although she turned her face away, the small, jade-like earlobe exposed to the air couldn’t hide—red as if it were about to drip blood.

　　Pei Ji’s dark eyes flickered. He suddenly remembered—just not long ago, he had once taken that earlobe into his mouth.

　　He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but thinking back now, an inexplicable heat surged in his chest.

　　“Hey, look over there!”

　　The girl suddenly turned back around, her face full of surprise as she pointed in a direction.

　　Pei Ji’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. Without any visible reaction, he moved his gaze to where she was pointing.

　　Not far ahead, on the busiest street, there was an exquisite lantern displayed in front of a teahouse. It was an elaborate phoenix in flight, beautifully crafted.

　　With a candle lit inside, the yellow light glowed through, making the fire phoenix look almost alive—its entire body golden, dazzling in the night.

　　Seeing the spectacle, many people were drawn in, crowding around to admire it.

　　A shop assistant nearby introduced, “This fire phoenix lantern was custom-made at great cost by our shop. It’s not for sale. If you want to take it home, you have to complete a challenge set by our shopkeeper.”

　　Then he began explaining how the challenge worked.

　　The general rule was: steal an item from the shopkeeper. That item was kept close to his body, and if you could take it from him, the fire phoenix lantern would be yours.

　　Upon hearing that, the surrounding crowd began to murmur.

　　“Ghost Hand is pulling tricks again. Who could possibly steal from him?”

　　“Don’t be fooled, guys—Ghost Hand is the number one thief in the martial world. No one’s ever out-stolen him!”

　　The so-called shopkeeper was sitting beneath the lantern—a skinny, middle-aged man with a face so plain he’d disappear in a crowd, just like any generic passerby.

　　Hearing the chatter around him, the man stroked the little mustache on his lip and smiled. “Folks, Ghost Hand is long gone. I’m just a humble teahouse owner now. So, which young hero has the guts to try?”

　　“What’s Ghost Hand?” An Jiu asked the man beside her curiously.

　　Pei Ji explained calmly, “Ghost Hand was a famous thief in the martial world. He never struck unless it was something worth stealing, and once he made a move, he always succeeded. He made countless enemies. Years ago, after being hunted down, he disappeared and ended up here. His lightness skill is incredible—especially his sleight-of-hand techniques, they’re practically magical. For an ordinary person to take something from him—it’s not that simple.”

　　“You can’t do it either?”

　　The young girl blinked, her eyes shining with curiosity.

　　Pei Ji looked down at her and asked in a deep voice, “You want it?” After a pause, he added, “If you want it, I’ll get it for you.”

　　An Jiu said, “But didn’t you just say that guy is really good at stealing?”

　　The corners of the man’s lips curled slightly. “When it comes to thieving skills, I’m not as good as him. But taking something from him? That’s not difficult.”

　　Pei Ji had only recently begun martial training, and his biggest flaw was a lack of internal strength—something that only time could fix. Still, he didn’t care much for wielding weapons. Often, poison proved more effective than brute strength.

　　So what if Ghost Hand had great skills? Pei Ji could take something from him right in front of his face without giving him the slightest chance to resist.

　　But An Jiu shook her head. “Forget it, the lantern is too big to carry around.”

　　In truth, An Jiu had spotted the main characters of the story in the crowd and suddenly remembered that this was a minor event from the original novel.

　　Seeing Lin Qingyan and He Ziqing approaching hand in hand, An Jiu quickly pulled Pei Ji toward the back of the crowd.

　　Pei Ji asked, “What are you doing?”

　　An Jiu pressed her fingertip to her lips and softly shushed him, “Don’t talk. We’re here to watch a show.”

　　Her bright eyes gleamed with mischief, her expression sly, like she was plotting something naughty.

　　Pei Ji’s heart stirred. He didn’t resist and let her drag him into a shadowy corner.

　　As soon as they settled in, the ‘good show’ began.

　　Pei Ji finally understood what she meant by that—it was the drama between He Ziqing and Lin Qingyan.

　　In the crowd, Lin Qingyan had also taken a liking to the Fire Phoenix lantern. Unfortunately, while her martial arts were decent—considered quite good among the younger generation—she was still no match for an old master like Ghost Hand. Within just a few moves, she was defeated.

　　Seeing her lose, He Ziqing naturally stepped forward to take her place.

　　Challenges didn’t have to rely solely on theft—one could also defeat Ghost Hand in a fair fight and make him willingly hand over the token.

　　He Ziqing’s swordsmanship was exceptional. He was a once-in-a-century prodigy with the sword, wielding his blade with incredible mastery.

　　He held a long sword in his hand, still sheathed in its simple, worn, pitch-black scabbard that looked entirely unremarkable.

　　The dark blade spun out dazzling sword flowers, changing forms dozens of times in a single breath. The tip aimed precisely at thirty-six vital acupoints all over Ghost Hand’s body.

　　Every strike came from an impossible angle—like a deer vanishing into the forest—swift, clean, and utterly unpredictable.

　　Ghost Hand’s figure flickered, his toes tapping rapidly across the floor as he twisted and weaved—ducking, sidestepping, bending—nimbly evading every single blow!

　　In just the blink of an eye, they had exchanged dozens of moves.

　　“Young man, what superb swordsmanship! I had no idea such a young swordsman had emerged in the jianghu!”

　　Ghost Hand abruptly halted. He had changed positions entirely—no longer seated in his chair, he now dangled upside down from the roof beam, both legs hooked securely, his eyes sharp and shining as he looked down with admiration at the youth standing below.

　　He Ziqing sheathed his sword on his back and asked, “Senior, did I win?”

　　Ghost Hand swayed slightly, laughing. “You managed to force me up onto the beam—consider that your win!”

　　The onlookers burst into laughter.

　　“Ghost Hand, how’d you lose to some no-name kid? Getting old and rusty, are you?”

　　“Hahaha, Ghost Hand, you really became a ‘gentleman on the beam’!”

　　Someone else called out to He Ziqing, “Young man, your sword skills are truly remarkable. Who’s your master? Which great senior taught you?”

　　He Ziqing scratched his head and chuckled sheepishly. “My master lives in seclusion and won’t let me mention her name in public.”

　　With that, He Ziqing leapt up and took down the Fire Phoenix lantern hanging from the teahouse beam, then walked straight toward the young girl in green waiting outside.

　　The girl’s eyes were bright with emotion, fixed unwaveringly on him. Their gazes met, and though not a word was spoken, a subtle affection quietly bloomed between them.

　　“For you,” He Ziqing said, handing the lantern to Lin Qingyan.

　　The crowd watching around them all exchanged knowing looks.

　　So they were a couple in love.

　　Seeing this, An Jiu quietly turned to glance at the man beside her.

________________

T/N: I apologize to my dear readers. Yesterday, I had a migraine all day and didn’t feel like doing anything, so I didn’t manage to translate or proofread. Today, I’ll upload both yesterday’s and today’s chapters. I’m really sorry again. If I miss an upload, don’t worry—I’ll definitely make up for the missing chapters. Thanks for your understanding! 😘

Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter