Chapter Ninety-Two: A Country Inn in the Void

When Qin Sheng had finished, she finally noticed that everyone was looking at her.

A broad smile spread across Song Qing’an’s face. He rose to his feet and began applauding Qin Sheng, and Jiang Miaomiao and Ah Di joined him.

This left Qin Sheng a little puzzled, though the warmth in her heart was undeniably stronger than before.

“Shengsheng, your straight sword skills are getting more and more impressive. It’s like you and the blade have become one!” Jiang Miaomiao could not help praising her. Since the first time she had seen Qin Sheng wield the Tang blade until now, Qin Sheng had handled it with effortless mastery. To anyone who did not know better, it would seem as though the weapon had been forged especially for her.

Hearing the praise, Qin Sheng smiled shyly. “No, no, I’m still far from that...”

“Well done.”

The words had barely left her mouth when Song Qing’an’s voice came from beside her, warm with approval.

Qin Sheng blinked, then looked up again into those handsome eyes. Her pupils contracted slightly, and happiness rose in her chest.

This was the first time she had ever heard Song Qing’an praise her.

She gave a faint smile and said nothing more.

“The time is about right. The arena match is about to begin,” Ah Di called out, judging that the hour had come.

“What time?” Qin Sheng had no idea what the three of them had discussed yesterday.

Jiang Miaomiao and Chu Xingyu were just about to leave when they heard Qin Sheng’s question. Jiang Miaomiao hurriedly explained, “We haven’t seen Lin Xing for a long time. We wanted to take this arena match as a chance to see if he’s there.”

Qin Sheng paused. It had indeed been a long time since she had heard anything about Lin Xing. Too many things had happened since their arrival in the safe zone, and she did not know what had become of him after he was taken away the moment he entered it.

Chu Xingyu and she had already awakened their abilities, so Lin Xing’s should have been about the same.

Qin Sheng quickly put away the Tang blade and walked over to Jiang Miaomiao and Chu Xingyu. “I’m going with you.”

Jiang Miaomiao and Chu Xingyu exchanged a glance, then both glanced at Song Qing’an, who was behind Qin Sheng, sipping tea with serene composure.

“Shengsheng, we’ll go look. You should keep training,” Jiang Miaomiao said, still feeling it would be better for Qin Sheng to focus on practice. Besides, today they were only trying their luck; too many people going would not be ideal.

“Right, Sister Sheng. We’re just trying our luck. You can stay here with Big Brother Song. The three of us will go look for Brother Xing,” Chu Xingyu said, jerking his chin toward Song Qing’an and giving Jiang Miaomiao a look.

Jiang Miaomiao patted Qin Sheng’s shoulder in consolation, then turned and left the rooftop with Chu Xingyu and Ah Di.

Qin Sheng shook her head helplessly, then turned back and took up the Tang blade once more.

She was ready to resume training.

Yet an uneasy feeling lingered in her heart. If Lin Xing could take part in the arena match, that would mean he was all right; but after so long, she could not help wondering whether something had gone wrong.

Qin Sheng tightened her grip on the Tang blade and reentered her training state.

She decided to wait until Jiang Miaomiao and the others returned before making any judgment.

If Lin Xing could be found, then there would be nothing to worry about. If not, Qin Sheng would have to make a nighttime excursion into those places that were not open to ordinary access and investigate for herself.

Meanwhile, Song Qing’an, lounging nearby and watching Qin Sheng train, had already noticed the brief daze that had just passed across her face.

He curved his lips, set his cup aside at random, and adjusted his posture to better admire her practice.

Far away, atop the roof of the central base, Lu Qingyan stood at the edge in a suit, without any railing before him. Beneath his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes revealed nothing at all.

“Come out,” Lu Qingyan said. He had long known someone was behind him, and had deliberately chosen a place where no one was around.

At the sound of his voice, the figure behind him appeared from nowhere, landing soundlessly in front of Lu Qingyan. He cupped his hands in a formal salute and said, looking toward Lu Qingyan’s back, “Young Master Lu.”

“Something happened?” Lu Qingyan did not turn around. His gaze remained fixed on some distant rooftop.

The man pressed his lips together and said quietly, “There is news from the Other Realm.”

Hearing that, Lu Qingyan finally turned. His eyes held a faintly different emotion now, impossible to define, yet edged with caution.

“Did Hear-the-Wind Pavilion run into trouble again?” Lu Qingyan asked softly, letting out a sigh as though he had already foreseen it.

“It is not Hear-the-Wind Pavilion. The elder asked me to remind you that we do not have much time left.”

Lu Qingyan slowly turned the black ring on his finger. When he heard those words, he clearly paused.

After a long moment, he adjusted the ring back into place and said indifferently to the messenger behind him, “I understand. Go back and tell the elder not to worry.”

“Yes.”

The man bowed slightly, and in the next instant he vanished once more.

The rooftop was left with only Lu Qingyan, his eyes full of tangled thoughts.

His gaze drifted again toward the distant horizon as he murmured, “Hmph. He does have leisure enough to watch someone practice with a blade.”

No sooner had he spoken than Song Qing’an, as though receiving the signal, smiled and shook his head lightly, seeming to answer him in kind. “A wastrel should naturally look the part of a wastrel.”

A faint smile touched Lu Qingyan’s lips. He slipped one hand into his suit trousers and lost all interest in continuing to watch the scene below, walking away from the rooftop with unhurried steps.

Song Qing’an glanced toward the central base, then puckered his lips in boredom before looking back at Qin Sheng. “Your uncle’s sense of amusement really didn’t get passed down to you at all.”

Qin Sheng trained with the blade for about an hour. Feeling that today’s practice had been enough, she put away the Tang blade and did not plan to continue. She then walked over to Song Qing’an and drained the bottle of water beside him.

What had happened earlier seemed to be repeating itself. This time, Song Qing’an was exceedingly sensible; the moment Qin Sheng came to stand beside him, he immediately lowered his head, refusing absolutely to meet her eyes.

Only after finishing the water did Qin Sheng notice Song Qing’an with his head almost buried against his own knees. At his odd behavior, she gave a puzzled smile and could not help teasing him, “What’s so good down there that you won’t even dare lift your head?”

It had only been a spur-of-the-moment tease, but the moment the words left her mouth, Qin Sheng felt they sounded wrong. By then it was too late to take them back.

Song Qing’an promptly raised his head. His fluffy black hair was slightly tousled, but he did not seem to care in the least. He lightly bit the corner of his lip and said shyly, with affected awkwardness, “There really is something good.”

Qin Sheng could not stand the way he kept looking at her. Clearing her throat, she awkwardly raised a hand and pushed his head away in the opposite direction.

“Don’t think I don’t know what kind of lines you’re trying to run...” Her embarrassment made her words stumble.

But Song Qing’an quickly turned back to look at her and said solemnly, “I am running lines.”

Qin Sheng: “...”

“I didn’t expect you to be this innocent,” Song Qing’an said, seizing the chance to press his advantage, still remembering the mortification she had caused him earlier.

Noticing him leaning closer, Qin Sheng hurriedly stepped back a full pace.

“If you keep this up, you won’t get any dinner tonight,” she said, clutching her hand tightly to keep herself from flustering.

In her previous life, the apocalypse had arrived not long after she started college. She had never had the chance to experience the sweet romance of campus life.

And in this life, burdened with so many duties, she had even less room to think about matters of the heart.

That sly fox Song Qing’an always seized on this weakness and managed to get the upper hand over her every time. Thinking of that only made Qin Sheng more indignant.

“No dinner is fine,” Song Qing’an said, sticking out his tongue with perfect adaptability, his expression mischievous as he watched the slightly tense Qin Sheng.

“You know it’s good!” Qin Sheng shot him a glare, gathered up the Tang blade, and prepared to head down.

As if he had not noticed her intent to leave, Song Qing’an curved his lips and said lightly, “It’s all right. I happen to like innocence...”

Qin Sheng could no longer endure his triumphant look. She kicked hard at his calf, then hugged the Tang blade and left in a hurry.

Song Qing’an doubled slightly from the pain, reaching down to rub his leg in perfunctory complaint, but the victorious smile on his face could not be suppressed. He looked just like a fox that had gotten what it wanted.

Qin Sheng swiftly left the rooftop and returned to her room, where she shut the door behind her.

After a long while, she let out a breath. The earlier embarrassment had already faded. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was there, she raised a hand and touched the phoenix mark on her wrist.

The next moment, Qin Sheng vanished from where she stood.

Inside the space, Qin Sheng had already tidied things up a little. It was no longer the warehouse it had once been; it felt more like a small home now. No, rather, it was like a vast home the size of ten football fields.

What puzzled Qin Sheng, however, was that when she had once been sorting grain seeds, she had accidentally spilled a few on the ground. A few days later, those kernels of wheat had somehow broken through the soil and sprouted tender green shoots.

Qin Sheng’s eyes widened with delight. She had only known that her space maintained a constant temperature and kept food from spoiling; the fact that crops could actually grow here was astonishing.

This meant the space was not merely a warehouse in the strict sense. It was more like a miniature earth.

Elated, Qin Sheng quickly found an open patch of ground and scattered some corn seeds over it.

She also set aside a small area and sowed some Chinese cabbage seeds.

After finishing everything, Qin Sheng drew a great deal of water into the bathtub, quickly stripped off her clothes, and stepped in.

The pleasant temperature immediately smoothed away the fatigue of her morning.

As she soaked, Qin Sheng began thinking about what vegetables she should plant next.

If even Chinese cabbage could grow naturally here, did that mean she could also make a fishpond in the space?

Then in the future she would not only be able to eat fresh, tender cabbage, but also fresh fish...

Having eaten enough frozen food for so long, she could finally clear space in the refrigerator.

Qin Sheng could not help imagining having grilled fish with Jiang Miaomiao and the others. Even if they could not finish it all, the leftovers could be stored because there would still be room in the refrigerator.

The next day, they could have hotpot.

How blissful.

Thinking of that, Qin Sheng finished her bath, changed into clean clothes, and began tidying up.

It took quite a bit of time.

Fortunately, she had long known that time flowed several times more slowly inside the space than outside. Otherwise, if things were normal, it would already be dark by the time she came out.

As it was, the timing was perfect for lunch.

Jiang Miaomiao, who was usually responsible for their meals, was absent today as well, so the task of cooking fell to Qin Sheng.