Chapter 131: NO ONE LOOKS AS GOOD AS YANYAN

Li Yan peered inside. Lying upon a piece of soft red velvet was a hairpin carved from aged spirit peach wood. The wood itself was smooth and possessed a warm, amber-like luster, carved delicately in the shape of blooming winter plum blossoms.

At the tip of the blossom branch sat a tiny, translucent pale-blue jade bead that faintly emitted a gentle, soothing spiritual aura. It was not an ostentatious heaven-grade spiritual artifact, but the craftsmanship was remarkably refined, elegant, and completely devoid of vulgarity.

Li Yan’s gaze lingered on the hairpin. He had always possessed a natural fondness for beautiful, exquisite ornaments, but in his past life, he had only ever worn chipped wooden twigs or frayed cloth strips. Even after entering the sect, he had kept his hair bound with the plainest wooden pins to avoid attracting unnecessary attention. The ones his master and Hu Bai gave him were too eye-catching!

"You actually managed to pick something that doesn’t look like an iron crowbar," Li Yan remarked, a genuine curve appearing at the corners of his lips, bright and captivating like peach blossoms greeting the spring sun.

"Not bad. Your taste has improved slightly." Gu Jun scratched the back of his head, his face splitting into a broad, foolish grin that reached his ears. "I knew Yanyan would look good wearing it. The merchant said the spirit peach wood wards off evil auras, and the small jade bead can calm the mind and soothe restless qi. I thought... I thought it suited you."

"Since you bought it, why are you just standing there looking like a wooden stake?" Li Yan tilted his head slightly, his silky, ink-black hair cascading over his shoulder like dark water. "Put it in for me."

Gu Jun startled, then hurriedly nodded like a chick pecking at grain. "Yes! Right away!"

He approached the bed with extreme caution, holding the spirit peach wood hairpin as if it were made of spun sugar that would shatter under the slightest pressure. He moved behind Li Yan, holding his breath as his large, calloused hands carefully gathered a section of Li Yan’s soft hair. His fingers, usually so steady when holding a broadsword, were trembling slightly with nervousness.

Gently, painstakingly, Gu Jun slid the hairpin into place, securing the dark strands atop Li Yan’s head. The pale-blue jade bead settled against the obsidian silk of his hair, catching the faint afternoon light filtering through the window lattice and casting a soft, ethereal glow over his delicate profile.

Gu Jun stepped back and looked, completely captivated for a moment.

Li Yan was already breathtakingly handsome, possessing that rare, dangerous beauty inherent to high-grade Gers that could overturn cities and bring empires to ruin.

With the plum blossom hairpin adorning his crown, his pale, convalescent state did not make him look weak; rather, it lent him an otherworldly, untouchable elegance, like an immortal prince resting in a mortal pavilion.

"How does it look?" Li Yan asked, raising a hand to lightly brush the cool surface of the jade bead.

"It looks... incredibly good," Gu Jun blurted out honestly, his face heating up slightly. "Better than anything I could have imagined. No one in the entire sect looks as good as Yanyan."

"Naturally," Li Yan snorted with undisguised pride, though the faint blush on his own cheeks deepened. "Who do you think I am?"

The heavy, suffocating gloom that had hung over the room was completely swept away by the banter.

Li Yan felt his stomach rumble faintly—a small, undignified sound that broke the silence. He cleared his throat, pretending nothing had happened, and pointed toward the wooden tray resting on the distant table.

"Senior Brother Anyu brought those earlier. Plum blossom cakes and sweet rice cakes. Bring them over. I’ve only eaten half a piece, and you look like a starved ghost who hasn’t seen a grain of rice in three days."

Gu Jun immediately went to fetch the tray, bringing it to the bedside table along with a freshly poured cup of warm spirit tea. He picked up a soft white rice cake and handed it to Li Yan before grabbing a plum cake for himself, taking a massive bite that filled his entire mouth.

"Slow down, no one is competing with you for food," Li Yan scolded lightly, taking a small, refined nibble of his own cake. The sweet fragrance of plum blossoms filled his mouth, bringing a sense of grounded tranquility to his battered body.

Watching Gu Jun munch happily beside him, his eyes constantly darting over to ensure Li Yan was comfortable, Li Yan lowered his gaze to the teacup in his hand.

The road ahead was fraught with hidden daggers and lurking vipers. The Li family still waited to devour him; Li Wei’s resentment was festering like an open wound; Cui Ahjun was watching from the shadows like a poisonous scorpion; and the premature awakening of his Devouring Phoenix bloodline had temporarily cut off his cultivation path.

Yet, feeling the weight of the peach wood hairpin in his hair and seeing the clumsy, unyielding devotion of the young man sitting by his feet, Li Yan felt a cold, resolute fire reignite within his soul.

Let them come, Li Yan thought, his eyes narrowing into two sharp, glittering crescents. In this life, I have people to protect, and people who will bleed for me. No matter who tries to drag me back into the dirt... I will make them pay with their lives.

The last rays of the setting sun dipped below the distant mountain peaks, casting long, amber shadows across the peaceful courtyard of the Apothecary Department.

Inside the guest chamber, the atmosphere had barely settled when the soft rustle of silk robes sounded from the doorway.

Fu Hanzheng stepped over the threshold, his hands tucked loosely into his wide sleeves.

His immortal-like countenance was calm, yet the faint spiritual aura wafting around him was enough to cause the air in the room to freeze slightly.

Gu Jun, who had just swallowed his last bite of sweet cake, choked on the crumbs and scrambled to his feet as if an immortal lightning bolt had struck beneath his stool. He straightened his back into an iron pillar and bowed so low his nose nearly brushed his knees.