Dong Changtian and the others hadn’t drunk this much in a long time. When they left, their faces were flushed red, and they staggered as they walked.

"Take care on the road."

"Er Niu, wait for me to come back."

Li Mo and Ying Bing stood at the door to see them off.

Hearing the familiar nickname, Dong Changtian paused mid-step.

He turned back blankly, squinting his eyes at the two figures standing before the doorway, their faces blurred against the backdrop of the lamplight.

The light spilled into his eyes, illuminating their murky depths, and spilled onto his face, filling every wrinkle with radiance.

"Got it, Brother Li."

The snowstorm grew fiercer, the wind howling so hard it was difficult to keep one's eyes open.

The empty street was left with only a trail of footprints stretching into the distance, stubbornly resisting the snow’s attempt to bury them.

Meanwhile, Li Mo returned to the courtyard and began cleaning up the leftovers as usual. He didn’t know why he had suddenly called Dong Changtian by that name earlier.

"Er Niu"—such a rustic, unsophisticated name, completely at odds with the Sword Sect.

Yet somehow, it had rolled off his tongue effortlessly, without the slightest hint of dissonance.

This very naturalness unsettled him.

He could even flip a coin and make it land upright—surely he wouldn’t be found out, right?

After a while, Li Mo returned to his room.

Since he was about to leave, he decided to take a bath first. After spending some time heating the water, he sank into the tub.

"Li Mo? Where are you?"

"Are you in there?"

Ying Bing’s voice came from outside the door.

Perhaps she had just returned from seeing the others off and couldn’t find him, so she had come looking for him in the bathhouse.

The young man soaking in the water hesitated for exactly three and a third seconds before dunking his head underwater, instantly cutting off all sound from outside.

"See, when I take a bath, I like to submerge myself completely—not even my head stays above water."

"It’s only natural I can’t hear anything outside, right?"

Creak—

Only when Ying Bing stepped inside did he resurface with a blank expression.

"You… here to bathe too?"

"Mhm. I’ll… wait till you’re done."

Ying Bing actually knew he was in there, but if she didn’t enter, he’d probably keep himself submerged indefinitely.

"Well, since you’re already here…"

Li Mo put on his most righteous expression.

"Right. I still have things to do anyway."

Ying Bing set down the wooden basin in her arms, filled with clothes she had just retrieved from outside. She shook off the snow clinging to them, preparing to rewash and hang them indoors.

"What’s the Otherworld like?"

"A place where mortals fall gravely ill, martial artists wither in vitality, and Celestials struggle to commune with heaven and earth."

"No wonder you think there’s little chance of victory."

"Then why did you deliberately make the coin land upright?"

Ying Bing set the clothes aside and fixed him with a quiet, penetrating gaze.

Li Mo felt a pang of guilt under her scrutiny. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision—he hadn’t discussed it with her beforehand.

Only after Pojun arrived did he realize how determined the Celestial Clan was to force Mo City to send a representative.

"Someone had to go. Old Dong and Old Qi—they’re getting on in years."

"......"

Ying Bing didn’t laugh. Instead, she pressed her lips together and avoided his gaze, focusing intently on scrubbing the clothes in the basin, heedless of their silent screams of protest.

Li Mo spoke earnestly:

"It was a last-minute decision. I originally planned for all of us to play dumb and stall, but we couldn’t weasel our way out of it this time. I didn’t mean to leave you out of the discussion."

"I’m not angry."

"You’re about to wash the clothes to death… C’mon, give me a hug. One hug, and I’ll believe you’re not mad."

"But you’re taking a bath."

"It’s just a bath. It’s not like we haven’t…"

Li Mo trailed off, stunned by his own words.

Why did it sound like they’d done this before?

Since when was an immortal sister someone you could just casually share a bath with?

But what surprised him even more was Ying Bing’s response. After a moment’s thought, she lowered her eyes and asked, "How long will you soak?"

Li Mo glanced at the snowstorm outside the window but couldn’t gauge the time.

He planned to leave early—before the sun rose high, setting off at the first light of dawn.

"The whole night."

"?"

"The water won’t get cold. I’ll keep it warm."

"Really? I’m not sure I believe you."

"Try it and see."

Li Mo was still grinning when suddenly, his vision went dark—a fragrant garment draped over his face.

Splash—

A cold, slender body settled into his arms, and in that instant, he understood the meaning of "soft jade"—supple yet resilient…

Ying Bing sat in his lap, her head resting against his shoulder, a flush creeping up from her neck.

From the corner of her eye, she could see that familiar red mark on his skin. Her gaze flickered, as if something intangible was about to spill forth.

"This is only because you’re leaving," Ying Bing murmured, her voice trembling slightly with poorly concealed guilt.

Li Mo inhaled her icy scent, his mind a chaotic whirl of popping bubbles. "Then this is a win. I’m coming out way ahead."

"Were you about to say your batteries are recharged?"

"Nope."

At this moment, the hardness of Li Mo’s words rivaled that of a certain part of him that had just been soft.

He tightened his arms around the "ice block," quietly attuning himself to her breathing, her warmth, until his heart gradually settled into calm.

Suddenly, Li Mo felt how swiftly time was passing.

Happy moments were always fleeting. After what felt like little more than an hour, he finally rose from the tub.

Carrying Ying Bing to the bed, he tucked her in beneath the blankets.

Taking a deep breath, Li Mo stepped outside with the resolve of a man marching to his doom.

The snow that had fallen all night ceased by dawn, the eastern horizon tinged with the faint glow of daybreak.

When he arrived at Pojun’s quarters, he found the towering man already dressed and ready to depart.

Relieved to see him alone, Li Mo let out a quiet sigh.

Pojun, however, looked startled.

"What are you doing here?"

"It’s a bit early, but that’s fine. Better to leave before Old Dong wakes up—that old fox is cunning."

Li Mo chuckled lightly.

"You’re afraid he’ll come first, aren’t you?"

Pojun frowned.

He didn’t understand why, just yesterday, everyone had been shirking responsibility like cowards.

Yet today, they were scrambling to go ahead of each other.

And besides… wasn’t Li Mo a spy?

"Not at all. I just don’t like farewell scenes."

"Swordmaster Dong said the same thing. You two really think alike."

"See, I told— Wait, what do you mean?" Li Mo froze.

Pojun gave him a strange look.

"Swordmaster Dong reported in last night. By now, he should already be at Yinma Camp."

"He didn’t tell you?"

"?"

Li Mo stood rooted to the spot, the image of Old Dong’s weathered face turning back in the snowstorm flashing through his mind.

"When he left, he left you a letter—probably some final instructions for you."

Pojun seemed to have reached some conclusion and smiled approvingly. "You’ve done well. Even his early departure was part of your calculations, wasn’t it? No wonder the people of Mo City trust you so much. At this rate, it won’t be long before you’re sitting in Mo City’s highest seat."

Ah…

He thought this was all part of Li Mo’s undercover tactics.

What a natural-born actor this kid was!

"You flatter me…"

Li Mo’s expression smoothed into one of serene composure, giving no hint of his inner turmoil.

"Oh, about that letter—where is it?"