“Brother, this is for you.” A young woman dressed in white handed over a jade pendant.

The man in blue was utterly surprised to see her. “Huan’er, what brings you here? Does Jingtian know?”

She shook her head. “He’d rather I slept in that room until it went moldy.”

“But your health…” The man looked quite worried.

She smiled nonchalantly. “That’s just how it is. Jingtian’s a doctor, not a deity—surviving is already good enough; I’m not asking for anything more.” She knew her own body best: over a decade of abuse had nearly exhausted her life force, and this latest incident was merely the straw that broke the camel’s back. “Let’s drop it. Keep the jade pendant—it’s a gift for my coming-of-age ceremony, though the carving isn’t very fine.”

The man had already noticed the object in her hand; though he’d had some inkling, hearing her say she’d made it as a gift still filled him with unexpected joy.

It was a superb piece of green jade, engraved with the two characters “Feng Ju”—as she’d said, the craftsmanship was indeed a bit rough. A red-cord tassel hung from the pendant, and that part was exquisitely crafted.

“A few days ago, when you received your courtesy name, I thought I’d give you something. This green jade happens to be crystal-clear, warm and smooth, with no impurities at all. It may not be rare, but please accept it anyway.” Seeing the man’s delighted gaze, the girl felt a little shy—and embarrassed by her mediocre skills—so she turned her face away and said in a stiff tone.

He rarely saw her so bashful, and suddenly his feelings welled up uncontrollably. His peach-shaped eyes lit up as if stars were swirling within them—truly breathtakingly beautiful.

“Ahem.” Noticing that her gaze had suddenly grown strange, the man realized he’d been too forward and quickly cleared his throat to regain his composure. “I happen to be heading to Star Valley myself, and there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What could be so important? You could just tell Yuan Mo!” she replied.

“It has to be told to you in person; Yuan Mo already knows,” the man said solemnly.

“The six nest leaders—the Swifts of Tong Tower, the Hornbills, the Vultures, the Kites, the Glowbirds, and the Shrikes—held a joint meeting yesterday and unanimously decided to appoint Qiu Huan, the daughter of the former White Hawk, as the new leader of the White Hawk nest. She’ll officially take office in three days.”

Qiu Huan’s heart sank. Wang Laohu’s words were true: after inhaling that fragrance, the true qi within her body surged wildly. Her internal energy had already exceeded the limits her body could bear; now, with such chaos, even if he didn’t come to kill her, she’d probably succumb to runaway internal fire and die. Right now, she was only able to stand thanks to sheer willpower and support from Duan Yunhe—she had no strength left to resist. Chances were, her end would come right here, in this small, ownerless inn.

“No way!” Duan Yunhe gasped in shock, her face turning deathly pale. “Even if you tampered with the incense burner in my room, Fengze would’ve only been inside for a moment—there’s no way I’d be fine while she’s affected! When exactly did you slip in the poison?” She wasn’t just worried about Qiu Huan’s condition; she feared Qiu Huan might suspect her, so she hated Wang Laohu bitterly and felt deeply ashamed of her own weakness.

But Qiu Huan clearly didn’t think so.

“Caitan Tower. He slipped the poison into the wine.” Earlier at Caitan Tower, Duan Yunhe had been so outraged by the insult that she’d wrapped her whip around Wang Laohu—but when she tried to pull him, she hadn’t succeeded, only managing to tilt his body slightly toward the wine table. He must have taken advantage of that moment to slip the poison called “Beauty” into the wine. Looking back, it was clearly a trap orchestrated by Wang Laohu and Dong Qing, waiting only for Qiu Huan to walk right into it.

Yet she didn’t say any of this. Instead, her words seemed less like an explanation and more like an attempt to reassure Duan Yunhe: “I trust you.”

But before Duan Yunhe could respond, Wang Laohu burst into laughter. “So the little white-clad girl really is formidable! But women who are that formidable tend to draw hatred—why don’t you learn from the red-clad girl? She’s pretty and has no ulterior motives; that’s the kind of woman people really like!” By “white-clad,” he meant Qiu Huan—even though she was wearing nightclothes now, she had indeed worn all-white on their previous two meetings.

“Draw hatred”? Upon hearing these words, a sharp glint flashed in Qiu Huan’s eyes. What was Wang Laohu implying? No, he had no need to do that. Qiu Huan could tell he wasn’t targeting her—or even Duan Yunhe; he was just teasing them. Most likely, those words were just a casual taunt. Still, Qiu Huan couldn’t help but dwell on them, unwilling to miss any chance to prove Ming Zhen’s innocence.

“What do you mean? Who have I offended?” Qiu Huan lowered her eyelids, hiding the turmoil welling up inside.

“Hmph, daring to question me?” Wang Laohu erupted in anger, raising his big sword. “Just as well, I’m tired of wasting time talking to you! Judging by how you look, you’re probably as stiff as a log in bed. I’ll chop you down first, then save the red-clad girl for some fun—she’s not exactly in a hurry to get killed anyway!” With that, he strode forward.

Seeing that he was finally about to strike, Qiu Huan was left with only one thought: she hoped that when Yuan Mo returned and found her dead, he wouldn’t blame himself too much or fall into despair. Instead, he should keep living, go to the places she never got to visit, see the sights she never saw, and never let his emotions grow numb and turn him into a killing machine.

But in that split second, there was a loud clang as a figure burst through the door, sword raised to block the attacker’s blade.

“Yuan Mo!” Recognizing the newcomer, Duan Yunhe, whose heart had already turned to ashes, was overcome with excitement and cried out his name. Yuan Mo was also dressed in nightclothes, though a bit disheveled, as if he’d been rushing all the way. Qiu Huan breathed a sigh of relief at seeing him finally return, but then she noticed a deep mark on his neck—though the lighting made it hard to see clearly, her heart sank.

End of Chapter 14: The Swallow’s Nest on the Stage