In Butterfly Valley, the lush greenery was interspersed with exotic flowers and herbs.

Chen Yang and Liu Yiyi moved through the valley, carefully searching for suitable Moonlight Herb plants.

"The Moonlight Herbs here grow much better than those outside," Chen Yang said as he carefully dug out a plant with silver-white leaves and shimmering veins, satisfied as he placed it into his basket.

Liu Yiyi smiled and said, "The terrain of Butterfly Valley is unique, with a Spiritual Spring flowing through it, making the vegetation particularly lush. However, it's quite remote, and few people come here, so many good herbs go to waste."

***

After searching for about another hour, Chen Yang's herb basket was more than half full.

As the sun rose higher, Chen Yang wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at Liu Yiyi, "Thank you for your help today, Miss Liu. Otherwise, I wouldn't know how long it would take to find these."

Liu Yiyi shook her head, "No need to be so polite, Brother Chen. You helped me heal my injuries last time, and I haven't properly thanked you yet." She paused, as if remembering something, and took out a small cloth package from her sleeve, "I made some Osmanthus Cake myself. If you don't mind, take it back and try it."

Chen Yang was slightly taken aback.

Since joining the Greenwood Gate, he had been living on simple meals, long forgetting the taste of snacks and treats.

Looking at the faded but clean cloth package, a warm feeling rose in his heart.

"Thank you, Miss Liu."

He accepted the package, catching a faint scent of osmanthus.

***

As they left Butterfly Valley, the sun was already setting in the west.

Chen Yang carried the basket full of herbs and the package of Osmanthus Cake, walking back along the mountain path.

On the way, he couldn't resist opening the package, taking a piece of the cake and putting it in his mouth.

The osmanthus was sweet but not cloying, and the glutinous rice was perfectly soft, surprisingly delicious.

He couldn't help but think of the times when Zhao Yanran had made similar treats for him at home.

Back then, her skills were unrefined, often adding too much sugar or overcooking, but he always ate them with relish.

Thinking of Zhao Yanran, Chen Yang's heart sank again.

The sight of her being intimate with Senior Brother Yang that day was like a thorn in his heart.

***

When he returned to the Herb Garden, the sunset had painted the sky orange. Chen Yang pushed open the familiar wooden door, but suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Inside, a graceful figure stood with her back to him, by the window.

A long dress in a watery blue hue, hair as dark as ink—he couldn't mistake that silhouette.

Hearing the door open, she turned around, revealing a face of unparalleled beauty—it was Zhao Yanran.

"You're back," Zhao Yanran said softly, her tone carrying a hint of unease.

Chen Yang stood at the door, unsure whether to enter or retreat.

He set down his things, his voice flat, "Why are you here?"

Zhao Yanran's eyes dimmed, "Can't I come to see you?"

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The room fell into a brief silence.

The last rays of the sunset streamed through the window, casting long shadows of the two.

"This isn't a place you should be," Chen Yang finally said, his tone devoid of emotion, "If your three senior brothers find out..."

"They don't know I'm here," Zhao Yanran interrupted, stepping forward with a familiar stubbornness in her eyes, "Chen Yang, do you really not want to see me?"

Chen Yang didn't answer, simply continuing to sort the herbs he had just collected, arranging them one by one.

Zhao Yanran watched his busy back, her gaze complicated, "I heard you're doing well in the Herb Garden, even Steward Wang praises your diligence."

"A servant's work isn't about doing well or not," Chen Yang replied without turning his head.

"Are you resentful of me?" Zhao Yanran's voice trembled slightly.

Chen Yang's hands paused.

Resentful? More than just resentful.

Every time he thought of the scene with her and those three senior brothers, his heart felt as if it were being cut by a knife.

Those nights, lying alone in bed, hearing laughter from afar, he wished he could rush out, yet knew he lacked the right and ability.

"You are the disciple of the Jade Bamboo Peak Elder, I am but a servant in the Herb Garden, there's no talk of resentment," Chen Yang finally said, his voice so calm it surprised even himself.

Zhao Yanran stepped in front of him, forcing him to meet her gaze, "Chen Yang, I know you're hurting inside. But I... I have my difficulties too. What you saw that day wasn't entirely what you think..."

"Then what was it?" Chen Yang finally looked up, his gaze sharp as he looked at her.

Zhao Yanran opened her mouth, as if to say something, but swallowed it back, only saying, "There are things I can't explain to you right now. But believe me, I've never forgotten our bond."

Chen Yang let out a bitter laugh, turning away, "Bond? Zhao Fairy, you are now a cultivator, and I, a mere mortal, am no longer your equal. Those three senior brothers are your Dao Companions, sharing Spiritual-Flesh Fusion and cultivating the Great Dao with you."

"Chen Yang!" Zhao Yanran's voice was filled with pain, "You know that detoxification method wasn't my choice..."

"But when I saw you with them, you showed no reluctance," Chen Yang said coldly, "That day, I saw Senior Brother Yang holding your waist, whispering in your ear, and you were smiling happily."

Zhao Yanran's face turned pale, momentarily speechless.

The room fell silent again, only the occasional chirping of insects outside breaking the stillness.

After a long while, Zhao Yanran spoke softly, "I didn't come here to argue with you today. It's just... these days, I keep thinking of the past, of our days in the village. Though we were poor then, yet..."

"Yet what?" Chen Yang interrupted, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "Yet not as carefree as the life in the immortal sect now, right?"

Zhao Yanran looked at him, her eyes gradually filling with tears, "Is that truly how you see me?"

Chen Yang turned his head, unable to bear seeing her tearful face.

Those years spent together, those days of mutual support, aren't easily forgotten.

But the thorn in his heart only grew deeper.

"It's getting late, Zhao Fairy, please leave," he finally said, his voice low, "If someone sees you here, it won't be good for your reputation."

Zhao Yanran stood still, unmoving.

The last ray of sunset shone on her face, revealing the struggle and reluctance in her eyes.

"Chen Yang," she called softly, her voice barely audible, "I... I miss you."

---

Proofreader & Editor: Peter Pan