Time is the most ruthless thing.
Unconsciously, it was already the star calendar 6700.
For the Long-lived Species, several hundred years is already a long journey in life.
But for Jingliu, after all those years, the path ahead remained a pilgrimage of suffering with no end in sight.
The flames of war ignited, extinguished, and ignited again.
Her trajectory and that of Qi Zhimu were like two planets orbiting the same star, yet destined never to intersect.
This deliberate distance was like a dull knife, sawing away at her mental defenses day after day.
She began to grow stranger, even pathological, starting from an unknown time.
Whenever she returned to Yaoqing for rotation and rest, back to the home filled with her Master's presence, a pathological greed would sprout in her heart.
She would take advantage of Qi Zhimu being in the study handling military affairs, and, as if possessed, walk into the bathroom.
She would pick up the towel he had just used, still damp and warm.
She would bury her face in it and inhale deeply, as if wanting to suck the scent, mixed with shower gel and his unique odor, entirely into her lungs and integrate it into her blood.
During meals, her gaze would be fixed intently on certain objects.
When clearing dishes to the kitchen, just before tossing them into the washing machine, she would tremble like a thief, pick up the water cup her Master had used, and gently press her lips against the rim he had just touched.
In that instant, her parched heart felt as if it had received a faint drop of moisture.
If Qi Zhimu was away on campaign, Jingliu would always tightly hug one of his personal garments before falling asleep late at night.
It carried his scent.
"Master... Master..."
She murmured to herself in the darkness, rubbing her cheek gently against the fabric, her eyes glazed and unfocused.
Only when wrapped in this scent could her heart, which had grown cold and numb from endless slaughter, find a moment of illusory warmth.
"I'm sorry... Master..."
Jingliu was not unaware that this behavior was deeply problematic, but she felt like a traveler about to die of thirst.
If she couldn't regularly draw sustenance from things belonging to her Master, she might go mad... Just like that, another hundred years rushed by.
The protracted tug-of-war lasting over three hundred years seemed to have yielded obvious results, or perhaps the Abominations of Abundance had finally felt fear.
In any case, the frequency of battles dropped to a historic low.
The Master and disciple spent more time together; although they still didn't fight side-by-side, at least they had overlapping holidays.
They could drink tea in the courtyard like ordinary people, or go out together for leisure.
The Cloud Knights must be granted long vacations after major battles, specifically intended for them to return to the mortal world and experience the normalcy and stability of ordinary life.
According to years of research data, this greatly reduces the probability of Cloud Knights falling to the mara affliction and delays its onset.
But for Jingliu, the normalcy and stability that ordinary life should offer were almost useless to her.
Master... Only her Master... could provide her with these things.
Jingliu began to be dissatisfied with the comfort derived from inanimate objects.
She increasingly desired the living person himself.
When handing tea to her Master, her fingertips would accidentally brush his hand.
When walking side-by-side, her shoulder would inadvertently graze his arm.
Every touch seemed to send a jolt of electricity down her spine.
She secretly trembled, secretly obsessed.
Yet Qi Zhimu's reaction was always so restrained, so... distant.
He seemed unaware, merely taking a subtle half-step back when they got too close... It was an autumn afternoon, the sunlight just right.
Qi Zhimu and Jingliu strolled to a scenic lakeside.
The gentle breeze swayed the willows, the water sparkled, and the surroundings were filled with couples.
Watching the intimate closeness of others, the impulse accumulated over hundreds of years broke through the suppression in Jingliu's heart like a bamboo splitting.
She didn't want to endure it anymore.
Even if it was just once, even if it was just for an instant.
For hundreds of years, her body had constantly released the desire to be close to her Master, never pausing for a moment.
Jingliu gathered her courage, stretched out her hands, and tightly linked them with Qi Zhimu's arm.
Body heat transferred through their skin; it was real, the temperature belonging to her Master.
Jingliu's heart rate soared, and just as a satisfied smile was about to grace her lips, her arm suddenly felt empty—
Qi Zhimu withdrew his arm almost instantly.
The movement was swift, carrying a clear and deliberate rejection.
"What are you doing?"
He stopped walking and turned sideways to look at Jingliu, his brow slightly furrowed.
Jingliu froze in place, maintaining the posture of linking arms, but her embrace was filled only with cold air.
Gradually, a massive wave of resentment, like a breaching flood, instantly overwhelmed all her reason.
Hundreds of years... hundreds of years!
I fought desperately to become stronger, desperately to catch up, just to be a little closer to you... Must I be shunned like a plague god, even for just linking arms?
"Master..."
Jingliu's voice trembled, her eyes bloodshot.
She fiercely stepped forward, desperately grabbing Qi Zhimu's long, slender hand and gripping it tightly.
The strength she used was as if it were her last lifeline.
"Why?"
She lifted her head, her eyes, usually cold as an iceberg, now filled with shattered moisture, piercing directly into Qi Zhimu's gaze.
"Master, why have you never spared me a glance?"
"Why could you dance with Senior Clear Cold, yet you shy away from my touch?"
"What exactly did this disciple do wrong to make you hate me so much?!"
Her voice was choked with sobs, her final syllables trembling, wronged to the point of near collapse.
Qi Zhimu allowed her to hold his hand, feeling the violent trembling coming from her delicate hands.
The disciple before him had long since grown into a graceful, captivating woman, no longer the ordinary girl she once was.
Through her tear-filled eyes, he saw a dangerous emotion growing wildly.
That was a fire that would burn everything down.
It couldn't be that way... not for him now... Qi Zhimu remained silent for a moment, offering no explanation, no comfort, and not even the slightest hint of emotional fluctuation.
He merely lowered his gaze and, with a calmness that was almost cruel to Jingliu, slowly uttered two words.
"Let go."
Those two simple words were like a basin of ice water poured over her head.
The light in Jingliu's eyes quickly extinguished. The hands that had been gripping him tightly instantly seemed drained of all strength, slowly, weakly sliding away, bit by bit.
Her fingertips traced his palm, taking away the last remnant of warmth.
Sure enough... it's always like this... No matter what I do, no matter how I beg, I can never earn a shred of gentleness from you.
"You haven't done anything wrong, nor have you ever made your Master dislike you. It's just that this behavior is inappropriate," Qi Zhimu added.
Jingliu slowly lowered her head, her temple hair obscuring her face, making her expression unreadable.
"...What part is inappropriate?"
"You are no longer the teenage girl you once were. There is a distinction between male and female Master and disciple; excessive intimacy... violates worldly morals and rules."
Qi Zhimu's tone sounded relatively calm.
But the moment the words left his mouth, even he felt an inexplicable discomfort.
It seemed to stem from... the words "worldly morals and rules"?
Strange. The Xianzhou is clearly not an ancient, feudal civilization; rather, it is considered free and open.
Why, after subconsciously saying these words, did he subconsciously feel aversion?
Was it because he urgently needed an explanation that the words just slipped out... Qi Zhimu fell into thought.
He completely failed to notice the few silent, crystalline drops of tears sliding from his disciple's eyes, shattering into dust.
"I understand, Master..."