The eloquent Little Tao Immortal found himself at a loss for words to comfort his disciple.

He was somewhat flustered, while Rong Zheng took a deep breath, her lips curving upwards, her eyes squeezed into two lively crescent moons by her cheeks.

An unnatural smile.

She crouched down, one knee on the ground, unbothered by the dirt, and dug the Snow-Embroidered Sword out from the thick dust.

She stood the sword upright, carefully wiping away the remaining ash with her sleeve. The grooves on the hilt were hard to clean, so Rong Zheng blew on them and scraped with her nails.

She was familiar with every pattern on the sword, where there were scratches, where it was worn, where it dulled easily, where it was swift—these details flowed in her heart like blood, so when she parted with the sword, it hurt so much.

Back then, she naively thought that even if it left her side, the Snow-Embroidered Sword would find a good place, perhaps with one of the other eleven assassins.

But she hadn't expected the sword to be forgotten in a corner, gathering dust.

The best way to kill a sword is to abandon it.

Rong Zheng cleaned the sword but couldn't find the scabbard. Unable to sheathe it, she cradled the Snow-Embroidered Sword in her arms.

"It's good to be back," she murmured, repeating, "It's good to be back."

Rong Zheng turned to face Tao Mian.

"Let's go, Little Tao."

Tao Mian looked at the Fifth Disciple's deliberately calm face, feeling uneasy.

"Little Hua??"

"There's no need to say anything," Rong Zheng shook her head, indicating she didn't need comfort, "I didn't expect it to be like this, but I can accept it. I'm used to it.

Moreover, this saves us some effort. If Ming Fu truly loves it, then we'll have to fight to get it back, which would take some doing."

Rong Zheng rarely acted on emotion.

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Perhaps she had once been rebellious, but it had all been worn away by Du Hong's repeated pulling and avoidance.

Now, she only wanted to do things that benefited herself.

The two didn't linger. Since Rong Zheng had made her decision, they left immediately.

But as they descended the stairs, they unexpectedly encountered Ming Fu entering the pavilion with a maid.

Tao Mian reacted quickly, pulling his disciple into the shadows. Ming Fu seemed to be a temperamental young lady, sharply ordering the guards to stop following her, willfully telling them to stay back, and then slamming the door with her personal maid in tow.

So this was the nature of Du Hong's beloved, completely different from the gentle and elegant beauty Tao Mian had imagined.

Perhaps it was precisely because Du Hong himself was reserved that he was attracted to such an unruly and defiant woman.

In any case, Tao Mian didn't like her. No matter how you looked at it, his capable and witty disciple was much more lively.

After Ming Fu closed the door, she began to throw and smash things around, which explained why it was such a mess when Tao Mian had entered earlier. Gold and silver wouldn't break, so Ming Fu specifically chose jade and glass to smash, the sound of shattering continuous.

The room full of treasures that Du Hong had given her was apparently for venting her anger.

Ming Fu was angry for a long time, smashing ten or so antique vases and breaking seven or eight jade bracelets and hairpins before she finally caught her breath.

The maid didn't dare to intervene, only offering a handkerchief for her to clean her hands once her mistress had vented.

"Miss, don't be angry. Pavilion Master Du is just too busy to get away, but when he has free time, doesn't he always come to Hibiscus Mansion first?"

"Do I care about that?" Ming Fu's voice was sharp, "He bought such a large Hibiscus Mansion, making it seem like he's devoted to me. But what about the Magnolia Mansion and Peony Mansion outside?? He favors everyone, which means he loves no one! Am I any different from the vases and jars in this room? Just another pretty thing he's placed in the mansion!"

The more Ming Fu thought about it, the angrier she got, sweeping the jade plates and wine jugs off the table with her sleeve.

The maid didn't dare to make a sound.

Smashing things wasn't enough for Ming Fu; she needed to vent verbally too.

"Does he care about me at all? I really don't understand, he seems attentive, but when I'm sick, he doesn't visit, I spend my birthdays alone, and for everything, he sends his Shadow Guards. Why do I need to see his Shadow Guards? I want to see him!"

Ming Fu's emotions fluctuated greatly, and as she spoke, she began to cry.

She said she had never felt sincerity from Du Hong, that he only saw her as a vessel for his useless emotions. In front of her, Du Hong was always a flawless, impeccable fake, his tenderness as tasteless as chewing paper, because it was all an act.

"He only cares about that Kite," Ming Fu bit her lip hard, "He's just cowardly and selfish! He has feelings for her, but he wants Kite to be his capable subordinate! He's afraid that if he falls for her, he won't be able to send her to the most dangerous places, won't let her risk her life for him!"

"Kite is the one by his side, so what am I? He keeps me outside the walls, leaving me with a few broken flowers to placate me. Dream on! I'd rather die with him!"

Ming Fu became agitated again, crying so hard she could barely breathe, sounding utterly wronged.

In the shadows, Tao Mian glanced at Rong Zheng's expression.

Rong Zheng had been listening to Ming Fu's words, moving from calm to shock, disbelief, and self-denial.

Finally, she returned to calm.

"Let's go, Little Tao."

She mouthed the words to Tao Mian.

The master and disciple quietly left the treasure pavilion, which was no difficult feat for an assassin and an immortal.

Rong Zheng wrapped the Snow-Embroidered Sword in cloth and slung it over her back. Tao Mian borrowed two horses from the market, not just for travel but also to clear their minds.

They rode along the lakeside, the autumn colors deepening as evening approached, a painted boat quietly anchored in the center of the lake.

Rong Zheng remained silent until she saw the sunset on the horizon and suddenly remarked—

"It looks a bit like braised pork."

"??"

Seeing Tao Mian's awkward expression, Rong Zheng burst into laughter, startling her horse into a swift gallop.

Rong Zheng didn't pull the reins, letting it run wildly without direction.

A year ago, Rong Zheng might have been panicked, confused, and saddened by the overheard conversation. But now, she just wanted to leave it all far behind.

Not to dwell on its truth or falsehood.

Run, horse, run swiftly.

Through the willow-lined banks, shattering the clouds and mist.

Towards the horizon,

Run, run further away.