Chapter Fifty-One: Devotion

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Mo Bai had long anticipated Na Lan Xin’er’s actions, but Wu Luohua’s sly smile was rather ill-intentioned. That smile, insignificant on its own, stirred fury in the Gan father and son, who already felt their dignity trampled. Especially Gan Ying, whose delicate face turned pale after being rejected; all his anger now shifted toward Wu Luohua. “What are you laughing at?” he snapped.

Wu Luohua flicked his folding fan with casual flair. “I’m laughing at your overconfidence,” he replied. How could someone of Xiao Hua’s standing be intimidated by Gan Ying’s bravado?

Gan Ying’s rage boiled over. With a loud bang, a burst of spiritual energy erupted from him, erasing the memory of yesterday’s request. He said coldly, “Hmph, don’t say I’m bullying you. Come, let’s step outside and exchange a few moves. I’ll show you what I’m capable of.”

Before Wu Luohua could respond, Na Lan Xin’er puffed up her chest and declared, “Hmph, Brother Xiao Hua, you needn’t trouble yourself. Let me, your grandmother, have the honor of experiencing the prowess of this Young Lord Gan.”

Her defense of Wu Luohua only made Gan Ying’s fury spike. He strode out of the house with a single leap, pointed his finger, and shouted, “Wu, come out!”

Wu Luohua’s expression grew solemn. He snapped his paper fan shut and leapt outside in a flash. Na Lan Xin’er anxiously glared at Mo Bai, who smiled gently, unconcerned, then followed them out at a leisurely pace. Meanwhile, Gan Castle’s master, Gan Sen, looked tense, clearly fearful for his son’s safety.

The scene was poised on a knife’s edge. Gan Ying, at some point, produced a treasured sword, which quivered in the air—a sign that his cultivation was not profound. Still, Xiao Hua possessed no spiritual power at all. Gan Ying suddenly let out a fierce roar, sending the sword flying toward Wu Luohua like a bolt.

Na Lan Xin’er scoffed, “This is disgraceful! Even a dog’s scramble looks better than this.”

Gan Ying’s first strike missed, but he pressed in, sword close. Xiao Hua dodged nimbly, darting here and there, while the two clashed energetically in Gan’s rear garden. Neither noticed when a woman silently appeared by the side gate, watching their battle.

Gan Ying, now frantic, realized Wu Luohua wasn’t playing with him—he truly lacked any spiritual prowess. He was no cultivator at all. With this realization, Gan Ying’s murderous intent grew. He swiftly formed a series of seals, and the sword flew back to his hand, vibrating intensely. Gan Ying’s eyes flashed, and the sword hummed, transforming into dozens of maple leaves that shot toward Wu Luohua. Though Gan Ying was slightly out of breath, a smile curled at his lips—this was the signature technique of the Fallen Leaves Sect: the Whirling Maple Sword!

The transformed maple leaves attacked Xiao Hua from six angles; no matter how fast he moved, escape was impossible. Na Lan Xin’er cried out in alarm, but at that moment, a surge of spiritual energy swept in from nowhere, enveloping Xiao Hua in a shield impenetrable to wind or rain. The Whirling Maple Sword struck with a clang, unable to breach this unique protection!

Gan Ying, so certain of his victory, was stunned. Then a calm voice spoke, “Young Lord Gan, are you done playing? May we be allowed to depart now?” The speaker was none other than Mo Bai, the one who had conjured the protective shield.

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Na Lan Xin’er darted from Mo Bai’s side to Wu Luohua, asking with concern, “Brother Xiao Hua, are you all right?”

Wu Luohua nodded lightly. Mo Bai said nothing more, motioning for the group to leave the courtyard. But at that moment, Gan Ying spun around. With a shrill cry, his sword turned blood-red as if soaked in fresh blood, and, wild like a lion, he lunged at Wu Luohua’s back.

A woman gasped and leapt forward, placing herself between Gan Ying’s blade and Wu Luohua. Gan Ying immediately recognized her—his own sister, Gan Yu! But his cultivation was too shallow; to wield the Blood Condensing Sword was already remarkable, but he couldn’t control it freely. The sword was about to pierce Gan Yu’s delicate body when a harsh voice snapped, “Are you seeking death?”

An invisible force slammed into Gan Ying. In the next instant, both he and his father, Gan Castle’s master, were sent flying. Gan Ying crashed to the ground, struggled to his feet, and saw his father Gan Sen had also fallen beside him, a trickle of blood at his lips.

Mo Bai frowned slightly, startled. Retracting his spiritual energy, he shielded Gan Yu, Wu Luohua, and the others behind him. He said solemnly, “Gan Ying, you should not have struck from behind and harmed your father.”

Before Gan Ying could reply, Gan Sen pleaded, “Master Mo, my son has erred gravely, blinded by lust. Please, for my sake, spare him this once.”

Mo Bai nodded. “Gan Ying, you ought to thank your father. Without him, my strike would not have been so merciful. Let’s go.”

Mo Bai turned to leave, but caught sight of Wu Luohua’s wooden expression—dazed, stunned, staring at his ‘savior,’ the woman who had risked her life to protect him.

Wu Luohua’s mind was blank. He looked at Gan Yu, unable to find words. He had seen women more beautiful than Gan Yu, more seductive, but none had instantly captured his heart as she had. Gan Yu had achieved what no other had—perhaps this was what they called love at first sight. If Xiao Hua remembered his own teasing last night, he’d surely regret it to his core now.

After a long pause, Wu Luohua managed a single word.

“Gan Yu.” The girl opposite replied with two.

“Wu Luohua.” Usually eloquent, Wu Luohua could only mechanically state his name.

“Mm, no flowers, no fruit; exquisite jade, full of fragrance.” Gan Yu gave a graceful bow and quietly left the courtyard. She had arrived suddenly, and departed even more so, yet Wu Luohua knew he’d found the woman he’d always sought.

“Let’s go, Brother Xiao Hua. You’re not welcome here.” Na Lan Xin’er, though reluctant to part with the kindred Gan Yu, was even more unwilling to see Gan Ying’s hostile glare.

“Ah, let’s go.” Wu Luohua looked to Mo Bai, who returned his gaze. Wu Luohua’s mind buzzed; catching Mo Bai’s signal, he nodded and followed him out of Gan Castle.

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Gan Ying watched the departing figures, his voice bitter: “Father, rest assured, one day I will avenge this humiliation.”

But Gan Sen was far less agitated. He spoke earnestly, “Son, there are some people we simply cannot afford to offend. Though you are a disciple of the Fallen Leaves Sect, you are no match for those people.”

Gan Ying trembled all over, confused by his father’s words. He gritted his teeth, turned away, and Gan Sen shook his head helplessly as he watched his son’s retreating back.

Mo Bai and his companions left Gan Castle, riding a carriage westward. Yet the carriage moved slowly, with Xiao Hua constantly glancing back. Na Lan Xin’er smiled wryly: “Brother Xiao Hua, stop looking. It’s no use. Sister Gan will be someone else’s bride tomorrow, no matter how hard you look.” She sighed, though she couldn’t say why.

Mo Bai glanced at the sun now high overhead. “Xiao Hua, there’s no need to look. We’re safe here.”

Wu Luohua nodded and smiled at Mo Bai, leaving Na Lan Xin’er puzzled. “What’s wrong, Brother Hua? Are you afraid? That’s not like you at all. The way you jumped out earlier was so dashing that I almost admired you more than Brother Mo.”

Wu Luohua ignored Na Lan Xin’er’s infatuation and addressed Mo Bai, “Brother Mo, don’t you find this situation a bit strange?”

Mo Bai nodded vigorously. “Indeed, it’s rather unusual.”

Before Na Lan Xin’er could ask what was strange, Wu Luohua suddenly became very serious. “Brother, if I fall for Gan Yu, would you support me?”

Mo Bai leaned forward, looked into Wu Luohua’s eyes, and asked, “Are you serious this time?”

Wu Luohua nodded with resolve. Mo Bai flicked his finger, the horse snorted, turned in place, and the carriage headed back toward Gan Castle!

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