290: Chapter 290 My mind is in turmoil

Qing Yanjing sat on the viewing platform for a long time. Outside the window, the roaring of the volcano cluster came in waves, and the dark red magma reflected on the glass window, dyeing her plain white dress a faint orange-red. The tea in her hand had long since gone cold, but she was completely unaware, merely staring blankly at the tea leaf settled at the bottom of her cup.

The words of Cai Lin and Yao Yao echoed in her mind one after another— "He has a flaw; the more he wants something, the less likely he is to ask for it." "If you run away tomorrow, that blockhead husband of ours will probably spend half the night blowing in the cold wind on the Volcano Cliff again."

She had lived for so many years and considered herself long past the age of being stirred by anyone. Falling in love with Mu Feng back then had been a long, steady companionship, a mutual companionship through thick and thin. But Hun Feng was different. From the moment he appeared, he had barged into her world in the most overbearing way, standing in front of her without a word, blocking the Ancestral Tower for her, saving her son for her, and arranging everything for her.

He didn't ask if she was willing, nor did he wait for her to ask for help; he had already done everything. This feeling was too foreign. She was accustomed to being strong, accustomed to bearing burdens alone, and accustomed to being everyone's pillar of support. Yet, in front of this man, all her armor became useless.

She set down the teacup and gently rubbed her fingertips along the rim once. She would not leave tomorrow. At the very least, she had to make things clear with him. But what to say, and how to say it, she hadn't figured out herself.

The next morning, in the back courtyard flower hall of the Imperial City.

Cai Lin sat upright in the main seat, flipping through a scroll of military documents, while Yao Yao lounged on a soft couch, playing with her bone whip. Xun'er sat by the window wiping her zither strings, Yun Yun and Cao Ying whispered about the harvest of the spirit fields in the back mountain, and Xiao Yi Xian was curled up in a corner flipping through a medical book. Everything was the same as usual, except for a tacit understanding floating in the air—everyone knew that today was supposed to be the day Qing Yanjing took her leave.

Hun Qian entered from outside the door and reported in a lowered voice, "Madam, Madam Qing did not pack her luggage this morning. Young Master Mu Chen and Young Master Luo Li have already returned to the Mu Mansion first, but Madam Qing has stayed behind."

Cai Lin's hand didn't pause as she flipped through the documents, but a faint smile appeared on the corners of her lips, and she nodded to indicate she knew. After Hun Qian retreated, she raised her head and scanned the sisters present, her tone indifferent: "It seems yesterday's words were not in vain."

Yao Yao flipped up from the soft couch, twirling the bone whip in her hand, her peach-blossom eyes filled with triumph: "What did I say? She definitely has feelings for our husband! If she didn't, she would have directly denied it when I cornered her yesterday. How did she put it? 'I haven't thought about it in that direction'—note, she said 'haven't thought about it,' not 'don't have feelings.' There's a big difference between the two."

"When I was by our husband's side back then, I thought about it every day, countless times, to the point of going crazy. She is clearly thinking about it but doesn't dare to admit it."

"You were thinking about him since you were little." Cao Ying set down her teacup, a hint of a smile flashing in her phoenix eyes, "But honestly, Sister Qing has stayed, but she might not have overcome the hurdle in her heart. Having been imprisoned for over a decade, she hasn't even recovered from regaining her freedom, and then she encountered someone like our husband. Anyone would be in a turmoil for a while."

"Being able to stay is a good thing." Xun'er gently set the zither aside, her voice still as soft as ever, yet every word hit the mark, "Our husband is serious this time. Sister Qing being willing to stay shows that she is at least willing to consider it seriously, rather than directly avoiding it."

Cao Ying nodded, but a complex emotion flashed through her phoenix eyes. After a moment of silence, she couldn't help but set her teacup on the table and lower her voice: "But seriously, have you guys thought about it—if she really joins us, will our husband just revolve around her alone? Look at these past few days, the way he's been so attentive to her, giving her crystals, cooking for her, and taking her to the Volcano Cliff; he's never been this attentive to us. It's not that I'm unwilling to accept her, I just feel a bit sour in my heart."

"Do you dare say that to our husband's face?" Yao Yao retorted.

"Why wouldn't I dare! I'm not jealous, I'm just—"

"You are jealous." Xiao Yi Xian didn't even look up as she turned a page of her book, her voice cold and calm.

Cao Ying opened her mouth, wanting to retort but feeling she couldn't win the argument, so she picked up her teacup, took a large gulp, and muttered, "So what if I'm jealous? It's only natural for me to be jealous over our husband."

Yun Yun sighed softly, a thoughtful expression appearing on her gentle face: "Sister Qing is indeed outstanding. Appearance, temperament, cultivation—she is good in every way. But our husband is not the type to favor the new and abandon the old. He is attentive to Sister Qing because she has just experienced a life-and-death ordeal and needs someone to care for her. He treated us the same way when we first married him, have you forgotten?"

"Sister Yun Yun is right." Xun'er smiled slightly, "Our husband may fall in love with anyone he meets, but he will never abandon the ones he loves. Sister Qing joining us is only a matter of time. Instead of worrying about him dividing his favor, we should think about how to help her figure things out quickly. She is alone in the Imperial City with no family, so we are her family."

Yao Yao wrapped the bone whip around her waist, stood up, and stretched, her peach-blossom eyes filled with a smile of certainty: "Alright, then it's settled. We'll continue to assist Sister Qing, and let our husband work hard on his own. Anyway, everything has been made clear; the rest depends on when the two of them figure it out—no, wait, Sister Qing has already figured it out, she's just still struggling. Our husband is the one who is most clueless."

"He probably doesn't know we sought out Sister Qing." Cai Lin put down the military documents, took a sip of her tea, her tone still that indifferent cadence, "Given his personality, if he had known, he would have run over to ask me last night."

Hun Feng indeed didn't know anything yet. Early this morning, he went to the Martial Arena to accompany his daughters in sword practice. Xiao Xiao's sword momentum was sharper than last month, Hun Muqing's defense was watertight, and the youngest, Hun Mulan, was also executing basic sword moves quite properly. After guiding them one by one, he sparred with Soul Mie Sheng for a few rounds, then returned to his study feeling refreshed, ready to review the documents submitted by the various halls.

Not long after he sat down, Hun Qian came to report that Mu Chen and Luo Li had already set off to return to the Mu Mansion, and that Madam Qing was not accompanying them. Hun Feng's hand holding the brush paused, and he looked up at Hun Qian: "She stayed?"

"She didn't leave. Madam Qing did not pack her luggage this morning, and when Young Master Mu Chen said his goodbyes alone, he specifically said to me, 'I leave my mother in your care, Senior Hun Qian.'"

Hun Feng put down his brush and leaned back in his chair, a smile slowly appearing at the corners of his lips. Yesterday, when she said she was leaving, he said "I'll see you off," but in his heart, he actually didn't want her to go. He just couldn't find a reason to ask her to stay—she was Mu Chen's mother, and there were a pile of matters awaiting her at the Mu Mansion; he couldn't exactly say, "Stay for a few more days, I want to see you more."

Now that she had voluntarily stayed, regardless of the reason, it at least meant she was willing to stay a few more days. He picked up his teacup and took a sip, opening a newly submitted document in a great mood, finding even the trivial spirit vein allocation plans written on it pleasing to the eye.

After dinner, Qing Yanjing walked through the corridor alone and knocked on the door of Hun Feng's study.

Hun Feng was flipping through files behind his desk and looked up when he heard the knocking. His perception had captured her aura the moment she stepped into the corridor, but he hadn't expected her to come find him voluntarily. He put down the files, stood up, and personally walked over to open the door.

Outside the door, Qing Yanjing was still in that plain white dress, her long hair loosely held by a silver hairpin, and the golden vine-shaped headpiece emitted a soft, matte glow under the candlelight. Her expression held a touch more barely perceptible unease than usual; those amber phoenix eyes met his for an instant, then lowered slightly.

"Hun Feng, do you have a moment? There are a few things I would like to say to you."

"I do. Come in and sit." Hun Feng stepped aside to let her in, casually gathering the scattered files on his desk to one side, and poured her a cup of warm tea. He noticed her fingers tighten slightly as she took the teacup, her knuckles turning white before slowly relaxing. He did not speak first, simply sitting opposite her and waiting quietly.

Qing Yanjing held the teacup in silence for a long while, watching the ripples gently swaying on the surface of the tea. The candlelight cast her profile in a play of light and shadow, and her thick eyelashes cast two fine shadows upon her eyelids. Finally, she raised her eyes to look directly at Hun Feng. Her voice was as cold and calm as ever, but Hun Feng could hear the turbulence suppressed beneath that steadiness: "I have always remembered your care during these days, as well as the grace you showed in saving both me and Mu Chen in the Futu Realm. I am also aware of your feelings for me. It is just that my mind is in a mess right now. Everything has happened too quickly; I need a few days to think about it properly."

Hun Feng was stunned for a moment. Feelings? He had indeed been expressing his feelings through his actions, but he had never said the words "I like you" to her face. How did she know? He carefully observed her expression—her eyelashes were trembling slightly, a subtle reaction that only appeared when she was unsettled. She had not come to reject him; she was truly thinking, truly hesitating, and truly needed time. He picked up his teacup and took a sip, using the movement to digest this information, then spoke, his tone a few degrees softer than usual: "Mu Chen's mother, have you been talking to someone?"

Qing Yanjing's fingers paused on the rim of the teacup. She hesitated for a moment, then raised her eyes to look at him, her lips moving slightly in what looked like a very faint, bitter smile: "Yesterday, Lady Cai Lin and Lady Yao Yao came to have tea with me. They... told me everything."

Hun Feng's hand froze in mid-air. Cai Lin and Yao Yao? His mind raced to recall—yesterday afternoon, he had indeed seen Cai Lin and Yao Yao heading towards the viewing platform. At the time, he thought they were just going for tea and idle chatter; he hadn't expected they had gone to have a showdown with Qing Yanjing. His mouth twitched uncontrollably. These two women—usually one as cold as ice and the other lazy and carefree—how could they be more proactive than him when it came to such matters? He quickly suppressed the complex emotions in his heart, set down his teacup, and asked seriously: "Mu Chen's mother, what did they tell you?"

"They spoke of your feelings for me." Qing Yanjing's voice was very soft, as if she were not used to saying such words aloud. She gently placed the teacup on the table, her hands clasped on her lap, her fingertips slightly clutching the fabric of her skirt. "They said you are serious. They said that if I have those intentions, they have no objections. And they also said—if you were to run away tomorrow, that blockhead of a husband of mine would probably be left blowing in the cold wind on the Volcano Cliff for half the night again."

Hun Feng's expression twitched noticeably upon hearing the last sentence. Yao Yao. This sentence's style was too "Yao Yao"; he didn't need any evidence to accurately lock onto the culprit. Blowing in the cold wind for half the night—was he really that pathetic? Well, last night he had indeed stood alone in front of the study window watching the volcano for a long time.

"So that's how it is." He picked up his teacup and took a large gulp, internally cursing Yao Yao three times and thanking her three times. He cursed her because these words were indeed too blunt, so blunt that even he felt a bit embarrassed; he thanked her also because these words were so blunt—so blunt that it saved him untold effort. Since the paper window had already been pierced, he had nothing left to hide. He put down his teacup and looked frankly into Qing Yanjing's eyes: "Since they have spoken for me, I will not deny it. Mu Chen's mother, I am truly serious about you. I will wait for you, no matter how long it takes. Take your time to think, there is no rush."

Qing Yanjing met his heterochromatic gaze for a moment, then lowered her head slightly. The candlelight gilded her face with a soft golden glow, and her slender neck appeared exceptionally delicate in the firelight. She stood up, softly said "Thank you for your understanding, Hall Master," and then turned to walk out the door. When she reached the doorway, her footsteps paused slightly. She did not turn back, but her voice was a few degrees softer than before: "Hall Master Hun—Hun Feng. Thank you."

She pushed the door open and stepped out, her plain white robes brushing lightly against the threshold, and soon she disappeared into the night at the end of the corridor.

Qing Yanjing returned to the guest room, closed the door, leaned her back against the door panel, and slowly closed her eyes. She raised a hand to cover her cheeks—they were burning hot. Having lived for tens of thousands of years, having been a once-in-a-millennium genius of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan since childhood, revered as a Divine Maiden in her youth, later meeting Mu Feng and falling in love and having a child, and then being imprisoned for over a decade—what kind of situation had she not seen? Yet, standing in this guest room all by herself, her heart was beating faster than when she faced Budu Xuan beneath the Ancestral Tower. She walked to the bedside and sat down, pressing her clasped hands against her chest, feeling the heart beneath her palms thumping against her ribcage. This feeling was too unfamiliar. She had thought her heart had long since hardened like iron during those dozen years of imprisonment and would not be shaken by anything again. But she was wrong. From that battle in the Futu Realm, that dark figure standing before her had already left a crack in her heart. Now, the crack was growing larger and larger, and it could no longer be mended.

But beneath this chaotic palpitation lay a deeper, heavier concern weighing on her heart. She lowered her head and looked at her hands clasped on her knees. These hands had once held the infant Mu Chen, had once sewn robes for Mu Feng, and had once been held by him under the starry sky of the Bailing Continent, a grasp she had thought would last a lifetime. Mu Feng. That gentle and steadfast man, that husband who was willing to die for her and Mu Chen, that ordinary person whose memory still made her heart ache to this day. Although his cultivation was not high, he had given her the purest love. For his sake, she had not hesitated to break ties with the entire Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan, and she did not regret it to this day. Although he was no longer here, he was, after all, Mu Chen's biological father. Mu Chen was all grown up now, with a woman he deeply loved, his own Mu Mansion, and his followers. If she, his mother, began a new relationship, what would Mu Chen think? Would he feel that his mother had betrayed his father? And had she also betrayed Mu Feng in her own heart? She raised her hand to gently press the water-drop-shaped gold ornament between her brows, closed her eyes, and let out a long sigh. She admitted she had feelings for Hun Feng, but these feelings made her feel both sweet and guilty—sweet because that man truly moved her heart, and guilty because she felt she shouldn't be moved.

Her mind was in turmoil. She thought for a long time, and finally, she took out the message jade slip that Hun Feng had previously pressed into her hand from her sleeve. She turned it over and over for a long while, but in the end, she still did not channel spiritual energy into it, and instead gently placed it by her pillow.

Meanwhile, in Hun Feng's sleeping chamber. He lay flat on the bed, with Cao Ying on his left and Xiao Yi Xian on his right. Cao Ying, with her long hair loose, lay on her side, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder, her fingers tracing circles on his chest absentmindedly. Xiao Yi Xian leaned quietly against his other side, her white hair spread out on the pillow, holding the medical book that seemed to never end.

Hun Feng stared at the dark gold embroidery on the top of the bed canopy, the corners of his mouth curling up in a smile he couldn't suppress. He had just told them both about Qing Yanjing coming to find him on her own initiative, and naturally, he also mentioned how Cai Lin and Yao Yao had gone behind his back to have a showdown with Qing Yanjing.

"So happy even though you were the one confessed to?" Cao Ying poked his chest. "It's not like you confessed yourself. If Sister Cai Lin and Sister Yao Yao hadn't clarified things for you, she would still be in the dark right now."

"I'm just happy." Hun Feng grinned. "She didn't reject me outright, so that means there's a chance. As for the confession—the process isn't important; what's important is that she knows my feelings now. Furthermore, she didn't hide, she didn't run, and she even took the initiative to find me, saying she needed time to think. What does this mean? It means she has feelings for me, she just needs time. And I have plenty of time."

"Of course you have plenty of time. She still has Mu Feng in her heart, and Mu Chen too; do you think she can figure it all out in an instant?" Cao Ying poked him again, but there was no sourness in her tone, only a kind of helpless indulgence.

Xiao Yi Xian turned a page of her book, not looking up, her voice cold and calm: "Take it slow. What she needs is patience."

Hun Feng pulled her closer into his embrace and planted a kiss on the top of her head. Xiao Yi Xian did not dodge, but her fingertips, which were turning the page, paused slightly before she continued reading her medical book. Cao Ying punched his chest lightly, then obediently rested her head back in the crook of his shoulder, burying her face against his neck and closing her eyes.

Outside the window, the volcanoes of the Burning Heaven Mountain Range spewed dark red magma into the night. Hun Feng closed his eyes, the smile on his lips lingering for a long time. He would sleep well tonight. Not only because he knew Qing Yanjing's feelings, but even more so because of this group of women by his side—they had worried themselves sick for his sake. This bond of affection was something he would never be able to repay in this lifetime.