“The Sect Master wants me?” The thought dropped like a pebble into still water.

Nana Toki looked at the messenger disciple; her heart was a winter lake, smooth and amused like a sly breeze.

What storm could he possibly stir?

He’d bang the gavel, accuse me of barging into the back mountain’s forbidden grounds, and maiming a fellow disciple like a wolf.

Whatever I say, he won’t buy it; the resignation settled like dust on old tiles.

One step at a time; with the Nesting Phoenix at my side, their claws won’t find purchase on my skin.

“Go back. I’ll head over soon.” Her voice ran cool as spring water over stone.

“Luo’er, it looks like the Sect Master summoned you over the forbidden ridge.” Shrine Water spoke like an umbrella opening in rain. “I’ll go with you and find ways to shield you.”

Shrine Water watched the Moonview Peak disciple leave; his brows tangled like ancient roots. “You trespassed Moonview Peak. The Sect Master won’t be lenient.”

“Me too! Me too!” Shuiqin Lin lifted her hand like a sprout reaching for sun, eager to join the fuss.

“But… you’re not going.” The word fell like an iron bell.

Shrine Water ruffled her hair, smoothing feathers. “Shuiqin, you’re too blunt. You’ll say the wrong thing. Stay on Stream Peak and train.”

“Eh~ QAQ.” She pouted like a rainy cloud. “I just wanna stay with Senior Sister.”

“But Master, trespass isn’t my only sin.” Nana scratched her head like a kitten, sheepish. “I don’t think you’ll have much to plead.”

On the count of hunting down Yiling Shen alone, Nana was certain the Sect Master wouldn’t spare her; the certainty was iron under her ribs.

No point trading spit; better lay the blade on the table and let strength speak like thunder splitting bamboo.

“Eh?” Shrine Water froze like a pond under frost. “Luo’er, what else did you do?”

“Uh… nothing much.” Nana’s tone was a leaf on wind. “I wiped out Yiling Shen’s bootlicker pack, chased her for a bit, and… slightly tugged the tiger’s whiskers between Oceanward Tower and our sect down in the South Sea waters.”

Shrine Water: “…”

Listen to that, heavens hear this; it crashed like thunder in a small room.

He guessed boldly that those “bootlickers” must be some kind of demonic beasts; kill ’em and be done—no big worry, like weeds cut at the root.

But chasing the Sect Master’s personal disciple—had Luo’er gone mad? The whole sect bowed to Yiling Shen like reeds to wind; only his disciple hunted her like a hawk.

“But don’t fret, Master.” Nana tossed the words like pebbles. “I almost beat Yiling Shen to death—she’s just, you know, heavily injured.”

“…‘Heavily’ injured?” His temper flared like a brazier. “If you had the kill, you should’ve done it! Leaving her alive waves a red flag at the Sect Master.”

Shrine Water’s chest hammered like a drum; she seemed clever on normal days, and now she was a brick in the rain.

Nana, oblivious to his storm, slipped a soul pearl into his palm; it glimmered like moonlight in a shell, tugging tide and mind.

“Here, Master. A soul pearl. Keep it. It mends the mind like gentle rain on cracked clay.”

“Where did you find such a treasure?” His voice tightened like a drawn bow.

Isn’t this Oceanward Tower’s soul pearl? How in the blazes did she get it? Did she raid their vault like a midnight storm?

He cut a look at the Nesting Phoenix; poison and fire, those two, like wildfire in dry grass.

“Ahem… yeah.” Nana scratched at air like a sparrow. “That’s one key factor in souring things with Oceanward Tower.”

“Senior Sister, you really grabbed a soul pearl from Oceanward Tower?!” Shuiqin’s eyes were round as twin moons. “My goodness, that’s Oceanward Tower!”

“What?!” Shrine Water almost hurled it back like a hot brand. “You rebel! Do you know how many treasures we burn yearly to keep peace? Go return it to Tower Lord Guo now, before they bring it to the Sect Master and you’re finished!”

His face flushed like sunset; his breath heaved like waves under wind. Fury boiled like tea left too long.

Since shedding the old host’s memories, this was Nana’s first time seeing him truly angry; guilt pricked like thorns under skin.

Such a good master—storm at the gates, yet still shielding his disciple like a wall of bamboo.

“Come on, Master, don’t be mad.” Nana’s tone was honey over ice. “I didn’t rob it. I helped Tower Lord Guo in the South Sea, and he gifted it.”

She stepped behind and kneaded his shoulders, hands moving like warm wind over knots.

Nana flicked a look sharp as a knife wrapped in silk, warning the Nesting Phoenix behind him not to flare.

“Eh? Strange Sister, you’re on fire?” Shuiqin stared, amazed; two small phoenix flames bloomed like flowers on the Nesting Phoenix’s shoulders. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“…” Shrine Water’s doubt gathered like morning mist. “Now what’s this?”

He knew his disciple; if Oceanward Tower hadn’t shown gratitude, she’d have smashed their plaque like ice under heel.

“I really didn’t start trouble. It went like this…” Nana’s voice went steady like a boatman’s oar as she told of the South Sea: a Great Vehicle Stage Chiliao braving heavenly tribulation and shattering the sea’s seal; Shrine Water’s little heart fluttered like a caged bird.

“By your account, this crisis spells ruin for Oceanward Tower.” Shrine Water shook his head like a willow in wind. “The first Tower Lord meant to shield his heirs, and instead nurtured a tiger.”

“So don’t worry about them knocking on our door.” Nana’s smile was a blade in velvet. “Heal in peace. When it blows over, we’ll leave this shabby place and find a new perch.”

“What, you plan to betray the sect?” His glare flashed like a knife’s edge. His disciples never let him rest; peace was a distant bell.

The elder wild as wind, the younger guileless as dew; every day he cleaned after storms and felt like a nursemaid tending chaos.

“Dear Master, how’s that betrayal?” Nana’s words were rain on that edge. “Yiling Shen bullies me under the Sect Master’s umbrella. Sparing her was mercy. We’ll just stay elsewhere and skip the daily summons.”

“…” That made it sound like Yiling Shen owed thanks for not being beaten to death; irony hung like lantern light.

“Enough. Stop your quips.” He flicked his sleeve like brushing off dust. “The Sect Master summoned you. Go now before he twists this into another charge. Take the Nesting Phoenix; I’ll follow.”

“Got it.” Her answer was quick as a sparrow’s chirp, flying light.

Nana shut her mouth and bowed out; with the Nesting Phoenix in tow, she headed toward Moonview Peak, the path curling like smoke along the ridge.

Down from Stream Peak, the Nesting Phoenix, rare for her, didn’t cling; she kept half a meter away like a shy fox in brush.

Each time Nana turned to speak, the Phoenix turned away; her silence was frosted glass between them.

It looked like a sulk, a small cloud shadowing the sun over a quiet field.

What now, little ancestor? Another tantrum? Nana’s mood flickered like a candle in a draft.

“Don’t be mad. I only kneaded Master’s shoulders.” She slowed, hands warm as spring breeze. “Why the big fire? I can knead yours too.”

“I’m not lusting after him.” Her grin was wicked as a cat. “No need to burn this hot.”

“I’m not angry.” Her cheeks flushed like peach petals, yet her pout was a child’s. “I just don’t want you touching others.”

Alright then—her possessiveness matched mine like twin mirrors facing each other.

“Fine, fine. From now on, I won’t touch anyone else. Only you.” Her promise tied like a red string around their wrists.

“You said it.” She turned, gaze clear as mountain spring.

“I said it.” Nana’s tone was firm as stone sunk in riverbed.

“Then pinky promise.” She held out her little finger like a budding branch. “Then I’ll believe you.”

You beat Great Vehicle giants, yet act like a child, Nana thought, a smile flickering like starlight behind clouds.

“Pinky promise, then.” She hooked the finger, light as silk catching moonlight.

“Pinky promise, hang it high—no changing for a hundred years. Whoever breaks it is a little rascal!” The rhyme chimed like wind-bells at dusk.

It felt familiar, like a dream seen before under moonlight washing old steps.

Nana stared at their twined pinkies, her gaze drifting like a boat on misted water.

She couldn’t recall with whom she’d done it before; the memory hid like a fish beneath reeds.

“What now? I agreed. Anything else bothering you?” Her brows lifted like crescent moons over calm tide.

Surely there’s nothing left to nitpick, her tone floated light as feathers in air.

“Nothing.” The Nesting Phoenix drew back her gaze like sheathing a blade, and met Nana’s eyes, clear and steady.

“I just don’t want you turning into a little rascal.” Her voice curled like smoke, soft and possessive as night.