Chapter 29: Flattering Back and Forth

Both of them lowered their heads at the same time, staring blankly at the crimson feather standing upright on his thigh, the arrow sunk two inches deep. In a flash, the red feather vanished, leaving only a small bleeding hole.

Only then did Mo Tu, belatedly realizing what had happened, let out a miserable scream, clutching the wound and bending over. Qing Yin finally snapped out of it, panic-stricken. “How is it? Is it serious? I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry…” She rushed to inspect the injury, but he pushed her away.

“I truly didn’t mean it!” Qing Yin was on the verge of tears. “Let me see if it’s bad…”

He shot her a glance, moved his hand aside, exposing the wound—a small hole, blood seeping from it. Qing Yin sucked in a breath. “The wound seems deep. Who would have thought this red feather was so formidable!”

Mo Tu snarled, “If you hadn’t been so unskilled, my leg would have been ruined!”

Qing Yin looked immeasurably relieved. “Luckily, you missed. If it had been just a bit more to the center…” Her finger pointed between his legs.

Mo Tu, who originally intended to let it slide, immediately turned livid, snapping, “Get out!”

He flicked his sleeve and stormed off, leaping to the top of the magnolia tree, furious in the wind, ignoring the voice below, apologizing and begging him to come down for medicine.

Magnolia emerged quietly from the leaves. “Divine Beast, you have my sympathy.”

“Out!”

With a swish, Magnolia retreated into the tree.

After Qing Yin had pleaded for half an hour, Mo Tu finally came down from the tree with a stern face. Qing Yin humbly invited him to lie on the bed to be bandaged, but when her devilish hands moved to pull down his trousers, he instantly shifted into his feline form, stretching out his injured furry leg for treatment.

Unable to resist, she teased, “Still shy, are you…”

He nearly lost his temper again. She hurriedly apologized, managing to keep him there while she applied medicine and wrapped the wound.

To appease the embarrassed and angry cat, she ended up scratching his chin for nearly half the night.

The basic use of the Blood Dove Feather Arrow was not difficult to master, but achieving accuracy was another matter. Even during the day, when the shop opened out front, she would slip to the back courtyard every hour to practice. The feather arrow could only be fired thrice per hour, greatly reducing practice efficiency.

Sitting in the shop, waiting for the arrows to recharge, she grew increasingly anxious. At this rate, when would her archery become precise?

The neighbor aunt entered carrying a basket of cakes and water buns decorated with red paper, setting them before Qing Yin.

Qing Yin stood up in surprise. “Auntie, what’s this?”

The aunt smiled. “My old man said you got married, but you didn’t even have a proper ceremony. I’ve watched you, Immortal Yin, living without family to care for you. No matter how capable you are, you’re still a girl who invites pity. Marriage is no trivial matter. I made some celebratory treats so you’ll have something to serve guests if they come.”

Even after the aunt left, Qing Yin was stunned, forgetting to thank her, her heart aching and sweet, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Mo Tu, in human form, entered from the rear courtyard. Since they’d publicly recognized themselves as a couple, he stayed human by day, returning to feline form only at night for sleep, making daily life much easier.

Mo Tu said, “Qing Yin, an hour has passed. You can practice now—” Suddenly, he saw tears on her cheeks and paused. “What’s wrong?”

Qing Yin, with tears still clinging to her lashes, smiled and took a bite of the water bun. “The neighbor aunt heard we married and made us celebratory treats.”

Mo Tu understood. She must be missing her family.

Yet he felt confused. To him, mortal kinship was just a fleeting bond, a brief entanglement in one lifetime, strangers in the next. It was a passing encounter in the dust of the world.

Just like Qing Yin’s family, their connection lasted only her first nine years—a blink of time.

Why did that brief, vanished bond seem branded into her fate, the deep sorrow showing in every tear whether awake or asleep, as if it would never fade through countless lifetimes?

He could not understand. He only knew that a girl’s tears made him uneasy.

His eyes softened, and he squeezed onto the narrow chair beside her, pressing close, his voice low and gentle. “Don’t cry while eating, or your stomach will hurt.”

But her tears kept falling. Suddenly, he leaned forward and licked a tear from her cheek.

She shot him a look. “You’re in human form now, not a cat!”

So many nights, when she cried in nightmares, the black cat would curl up beside her pillow and lick her tears away for comfort. Now, with him in human form, the gesture felt oddly out of place.

Mo Tu was unconcerned. He felt no difference between human and feline forms, often behaving like a cat even as a man. Besides licking her face, he longed to sprawl across her lap—but his human size made that impossible.

His antics made Qing Yin forget her sorrow, and she finally savored the sweet bun. Seeing her eat with relish, Mo Tu became greedy, leaned in, and licked the crumbs from her lips.

This time, Qing Yin was shocked, glancing anxiously at the door. Fortunately, no one passed by. Her face flushed scarlet. “You really need to stop licking people! If anyone sees, they’ll laugh themselves silly.”

Mo Tu’s face darkened at her rebuke. “It’s my nature—how could I change? I haven’t even counted your arrow in my leg yet…”

Feeling guilty, Qing Yin conceded, “Alright, alright, I was wrong.”

Mo Tu triumphed, casting her a sidelong glance and shamelessly sprawling half his body across her lap. “Scratch my back.”

Qing Yin dared not disobey, running her hand from his nape down his spine repeatedly.

The days grew hotter. A month passed, and Qing Yin’s archery improved greatly. During practice, Mo Tu no longer hid indoors, and Magnolia wouldn’t be frightened to tears.

That night, Mo Tu was not at her side supervising as usual; he’d disappeared somewhere. As the night deepened, she lay beneath the magnolia tree on the bamboo cot, waiting for his return, growing ever more anxious. Though he counted as a cat, he rarely stayed out at night.

Magnolia floated down from the tree, landing beside her. “You’re so anxious you’re sweating.”

“Phew, it’s hot.” Qing Yin fanned herself vigorously, frowning. “That big cat, where could he have gone so late?”

Magnolia waved her hand. The leaves of the magnolia tree rustled and danced without wind, sending a refreshing breeze swirling through the small courtyard, instantly cooling the air.

Magnolia suddenly said, “I envy him—being able to go wherever he pleases.”

Qing Yin replied, “If you cultivate well, you’ll one day leave this tree and travel wherever you wish.”

Magnolia shook her head. “It’s hard. Centuries pass with no progress; I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Qing Yin asked, “Magnolia, do you wish for freedom to seek out that scholar?”

Magnolia gave a sorrowful smile. “I forgot to tell you—the scholar who studied here, it’s been over a hundred years since then. He must no longer be in this world. I’m such a blockhead, not even understanding my own feelings. Why didn’t you appear earlier and awaken me sooner?” She poked Qing Yin’s forehead.

Only then did Qing Yin recall that the courtyard was indeed over a century old. Mortal lives are like grains of sand in the river of time—washed away and gone in a blink. Spirits, however, live so much longer. In a moment, the fleeting meets the eternal, and what’s missed cannot be regained, leaving the heart melancholy.

Magnolia rested her chin on her knees, speaking softly, “Even if I never see him again, I still wish to leave the tree, go farther, and see the world he saw. But cultivation is stagnant, as if I’ll always be bound to this land.”

Suddenly, a voice sounded from atop the wall: “It’s not about cultivation. For a tree spirit to leave the tree, the roots must be severed, the heart forsaken, and the body wither to rot—only then comes freedom.”

The two looked up to see Mo Tu, in his cat form.

Qing Yin leapt up in delight. “Mo Tu, where have you been? Why are you back so late?”

Mo Tu jumped from the wall straight onto the bamboo cot, instantly transforming into a man and pushing Magnolia off.

Magnolia scrambled up, forgetting to complain, grabbing his black sleeve. “What did you just say? How can I be free?”

Mo Tu repeated, “Roots severed, heart forsaken, tree body rotted away.”

“How can that be done?”

“Through tribulation.”

“What kind of tribulation? When will it come?” Though she heard the word “tribulation,” she was not afraid but excited, eyes full of hope.

Mo Tu replied coolly, “Tribulations are set by heaven; no one knows when they’ll come, or even if they will. Even if it comes, no one knows if you’ll survive it. If not, you’ll be reduced to ashes, soul scattered.”

Magnolia paused, clenching her small fists. “Even if my soul scatters, it’s better than being imprisoned here for centuries.”

Mo Tu nodded. “Let’s wait until the tribulation comes.”

Magnolia soared to the treetop, gazing into the endless night, her heart filled with longing for freedom.

Qing Yin had listened quietly, but suddenly noticed a bloody mark on his neck. She leaned close to inspect it. “How did you get hurt?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mo Tu replied.

Qing Yin still went inside for medicine. He no longer resisted, sprawling on the cot as she applied the ointment, eyes half-closed, thoroughly enjoying himself. The two-inch-long red mark looked as if it had been choked by something.

Once the medicine was applied, Qing Yin leaned in to blow it dry, her breath fragrant and gentle, stirring Mo Tu’s feline instinct for affection. He rolled over, burrowing his face into her neck, his limbs draped lazily across her body.

Author’s note: Oh dear, perhaps there’s a bit too much interaction? All this touching and licking is almost too sweet~

Immortal Seal 29_Immortal Seal Full Free Reading_29 Licking Update Complete!