“You stole his shoes?” Lan Fen asked after hearing the end of his report. She tightened the bandage around his side.
He and Song Yuelin made their way back to the manor making judicious use of Song Yuelin’s Liquid Meridian cultivation to clear the way. Lan Fen had been waiting for them in his office to be debriefed on the situation.
“Technically they’re Lan Yao’s shoes,” Chen Haoran said. He waved his bandaged hand at Song Yuelin who brought out the white slippers with a whip of liquid shadow.
“I can’t believe you made me carry them,” Song Yuelin complained. “You have a perfectly good storage bag yourself.”
“Who asked you to eat all the cookies?” He had been looking forward to a post-workout snack.
“You should have beat him faster then,” Song Yuelin blandly replied. “I could have had lunch too with how long you took.”
“This is why I make you carry shoes.” Chen Haoran grabbed the slippers from the tendril of liquid shadow and placed them on his desk. “What even are these anyway?”
“The White Dipper Slippers.” Lan Fen answered. “A Mortal-rank artifact. The stars it releases are meant to bedazzle an opponent’s eyes and obfuscate the wearer’s movements.”
“Young Master Chen was certainly left bedazzled by them,” Song Yuelin butt in.
“Shut up, I let him do that. I needed to wait for a big enough crowd.”
“Whatever you say, Young Master Chen.”
Ignoring him, Chen Haoran looked at Lan Fen and motioned to the slippers. “You want them? They should be pretty useful.”
“I am fine, thank you,” Lan Fen politely declined. “It would be better to make use of them yourself.”
He’d already tried, but they didn’t fit. Chen Haoran unceremoniously dumped the shoes into his storage bag. Lan Fen accepting them had been a long shot anyway.
Song Yuelin suddenly turned his head. “It appears we have some visitors, Young Master Chen.”
Chen Haoran clicked his tongue. He had expected people to mob his door but it hadn’t even been a day yet. “Turn them away.”
“Is that really what you wish to do, Young Master Chen?” Song Yuelin asked. “Now is a crucial time for you to control the narrative. The more public you are, the more damning the Lan family’s secrecy is in comparison.”
“I agree with Manager Song,” Lan Fen nodded.
“Fine,” he sighed and rose from his desk. “I’ll go meet them.”
Lan Fen stopped him. “I still have some things to discuss with you. Manager Song can go receive them for now.” She gave Song Yuelin a pointed look.
Song Yuelin blinked innocently.
Lan Fen sighed and wrapped an arm around Chen Haoran’s neck. “Leave us, please.”
Chen Haoran placed a hand on her arm. Her firm grip was surprisingly nice.
“I beg your pardon? I didn’t quite hear that.” Song Yuelin cupped his ear as if straining to hear her.
Lan Fen’s hold tightened into a vice grip. Chen Haoran immediately started tapping her arm. “I have something I’d like to discuss with Chen Haoran in private, please go away.”
“What?” Song Yuelin drawled.
Chen Haoran tapped Lan Fen’s arm harder.
“I have dearly missed my husband and would like some time to spend alone with him,” Lan Fen said through clenched teeth.
“Oh! Why didn’t you say so!” Song Yuelin backed away to the door, a sly smile on his face. “Far be it for me to get in the way of your quiet time together.”
Chen Haoran’s tapping became desperate.
“Begone,” Lan Fen ordered.
“I’ll be on my way now. Take care!” The door slammed shut.
“Annoying pest,” Lan Fen muttered.
“Lan Fen,” Chen Haoran gasped. “My neck.”
Lan Fen finally reacted, releasing her stranglehold and stepping back. “My apologies. I acted without thought.”
“Can you hold my arm instead next time?” He rubbed his neck. He hadn’t exactly been choking but she had some strong arms.
Lan Fen had the grace to look guilty at least. “I will bear that in mind.”
“So, what’s up?”
“What?” Lan Fen looked startled.
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“You needed to talk to me, didn’t you?”
Lan Fen was silent. Far too silent.
“You…” he hesitated. “You do have something to say to me right?”
“Yes,” she said forcefully. “I do.”
Chen Haoran waited for an answer while Lan Fen tried to burn a hole into the wall behind him.
“Good work,” she finally said.
“Thank you…?”
“Things will get more complicated for you in the short term. I will do what I can to help alleviate it.”
“I would hope so. I’m relying on you.”
“Your faith is not misplaced,” she replied. She looked as if she was making an oath.
“No need to be so serious…” he trailed off. “I was joking.”
They were about to descend once again into awkward silence when there was a sudden knocking at the door. Chen Haoran and Lan Fen shared a look. The door creaked open and a servant carefully walked in and set down a tray of small flower-shaped pastries and a pot of rice wine before fleeing the room.
“Song Yuelin,” Lan Fen said.
“What a nosy fucker,” he instantly replied.
They looked at each other and burst into laughter. Chen Haoran held out a chair for Lan Fen. She poured a cup for him in return.
“To a successful first step,” he toasted her.
“To your excellent display in the arenas,” Lan Fen toasted in return.
The wine was crisp, the pastries tasted like flowers and honey, the mood was good. Chen Haoran felt the adrenaline from the day’s fighting finally fade away. His actions today would have consequences, some had already started knocking on his door, but he ignored them for now.
“Lan Fen,” he said.
“Yes?”
“What do you plan to do once the Lan family is finished?” What Lan Fen would do after succeeding in her revenge was something that had been on his mind for a while now.
She hummed and nursed her drink. “I plan to take the Palace Exams and enter the Palace School,” she answered.
“Government service?”
“The resources the Empire can call upon are unparalleled.” Lan Fen rested her head in the palm of her hand. “I will be demanded to prove myself, but for a talented cultivator without other backing Imperial service is their quickest path of ascension. I will need it if I want to advance to the Liquid Meridian realm in a timely manner. ”
‘I can be your backing.’ Chen Haoran strangled that thought before it could reach his lips. Just thinking about it made him feel ridiculous. Lan Fen’s strength outpacing his ability to support her was an eventuality he’d long expected.
That didn’t mean he was prepared for it.
He drummed his fingers along his cup. He was already reaching his limits in what he could procure in Clearsprings City. The powerful interests in the city had already divided up its resources such that even his massive wealth couldn’t move them. The wilderness outside the City was no better. He had to rely on Song Yuelin to find anything of worth, and there was no guarantee the man would continue doing so in the future. Even with the rewards given by the Gifting power he wasn’t confident he could help himself reach the Liquid Meridian realm, let alone Lan Fen.
He couldn’t even get her a better cultivation method. The ease with which he acquired his Earth-rank method blinded him to how difficult it was to find even a Mortal-rank method let alone anything Profound or higher. At least if she went to the Palace School Lan Fen could get an Earth-rank or potentially even a Heaven-rank cultivation method with her skills.
Where would that leave him, once she left? Lan Fen was his only connection. He would have to follow her if he wanted to keep using the gifting power. Would he be allowed to follow her though? He reached for his throat, remembering the way her arm coiled around it and before that how her fingers traced over it like knives when they faked sleeping together.
Would she even want him to follow?
“Are you alright?” Lan Fen asked with a concerned look.
“Yeah,” he coughed. “Just not looking forward to all the talking I’m gonna have to do.” Chen Haoran downed the rest of his cup.
It would be a lie to say he didn’t have an idea of how to open up the Gifting power’s connection slot. He had just gotten comfortable with Lan Fen after all this time. Too comfortable perhaps. It was the same flaw that Song Yuelin tried to exploit, except he had already thrown in more than just his lot with Lan Fen.
“What of you, Chen Haoran?” Lan Fen asked. “What plans do you hold for the future.”
He held off answering by taking another bite of pastry. He grimaced and washed it down with suddenly dry wine. It needed more honey.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “But I don’t think I’ll have a place in Clearsprings City after this.”
That, at least, was clear. He had no future here.
It was a familiar, bitter feeling.
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