556: Chapter 556 Qin Wangchuan, Let's Get Married

With a sense of direction for the future, Fan Yuan was no longer lost; he immediately took his leave, wanting to return.

Before he left, Qin Wangchuan suddenly remembered something and called him back.

"Has that person not been found yet?"

That person, naturally, referred to the mountain bandit who had killed Qin Rang back then.

The man was dead, and the debt of blood had to be paid.

Fan Yuan immediately bowed.

"Fuyao Tower has already begun investigating in secret."

"Rest assured, Sir. Finding him is only a matter of time."

Qin Wangchuan said nothing more, merely giving a faint nod.

Seeing this, Fan Yuan bowed again, turned, and exited the courtyard.

— —

On the courtyard wall, Qin Zhaoer, having climbed up at some unknown moment, rested her chin on her hand, lazily watching Fan Yuan's retreating figure.

Not until that figure completely vanished at the end of the alley did she turn her head, her gaze falling upon the youth sitting upright on the stone stool in the courtyard.

"Not only did you help him so much, but you even bestowed a faction upon him."

"What a truly benevolent god you are."

Qin Wangchuan closed his medical book and slowly stood up.

"I wouldn't call it benevolent."

"What I did for him is, in essence, for myself as well."

"With such a faction, there will be fewer vexing matters in the future."

Upon hearing this, Qin Zhaoer curled her lips.

"Hmph."

Qin Wangchuan ignored her.

He simply closed the medical book in his hand and slowly walked toward the house.

It was time for blacksmithing.

"Wait — —"

Seeing this, Qin Zhaoer pulled back from the wall and vanished to the other side in the blink of an eye.

A moment later, the courtyard gate was gently pushed open, and she walked in carrying a tray.

"Try this."

"Just made it, eat it while it's hot."

On the tray were a few plump, white steamed buns, with steam still curling upwards.

As Qin Wangchuan took the tray, he glanced at it sideways.

"You made this?"

"Mm-hmm!"

Qin Zhaoer lifted her chin, looking smug as if waiting for praise.

Qin Wangchuan said nothing; he casually picked one up and took a bite as he walked.

With her hands behind her back, she leaned forward slightly, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on his profile as he chewed.

Must say, watching someone else eat something she made with her own hands was quite fulfilling.

She was starting to like this feeling.

But the next instant, as his teeth closed together, there was a crunching sound as they were abruptly blocked by some hard object.

Qin Wangchuan paused his chewing, shook his head, and looked at the young girl beside him with some helplessness.

"There's a bone in the meat filling."

"And it's not small either."

In his memory, he couldn't even be bothered to count how many times this had happened.

Last time, the dough was too mushy.

The time before that, the soup was too salty.

This time, it was the turn of the steamed buns.

Oh well.

That troublemaking Devil King from the Immortal Court, who was used to being served hand and foot, was willing to cook in this small courtyard; it was already rare.

To ask her to pay attention to heat control or pick out bones in the kitchen was truly making things difficult for her.

But Qin Wangchuan would not say such things out loud.

"Huh?"

Qin Zhaoer looked incredulous, her eyes wide round.

"That's impossible!"

"I picked out all the bones before mincing the meat!"

As she spoke, she leaned in closer.

"Let me taste."

Qin Wangchuan handed the tray of buns over, but Qin Zhaoer didn't take it at all.

She raised her hand to hook his wrist and pulled it toward her lips — — taking a direct bite exactly where he had just bitten.

Her cheeks puffed out, looking like a little squirrel caught stealing food but still trying to act innocent.

She chewed twice.

"Pfft."

She spat out a small piece of bone.

"... There really was one."

She wiped the corner of her mouth with a serious expression and argued, "But even though there are some small bones inside..."

"The taste is actually pretty good, right?"

She was bold and confident, without a hint of guilt, as if that shocking action just now hadn't come from her.

Qin Wangchuan glanced at her.

Seeing her expression was normal, he didn't take that little action to heart, assuming it was just a moment of haste and a lapse in propriety.

"The taste is better than last time, at least there's no strange flavor."

He said indifferently.

"Right!"

Upon hearing this, Qin Zhaoer's tail almost started wagging.

She completely failed to hear the subtle sarcasm in his words.

Instead, she straightened her body, and her whole demeanor became a bit more lively.

Her dress was already form-fitting.

As she straightened her back and lifted herself, the pair on her chest became even more prominent, causing the front of her clothes to heave.

"I have made progress!"

Qin Wangchuan's gaze swept indifferently over her chest, his expression unmoved.

"... Indeed, there is progress."

Whether it was culinary skills or something else, she had made quite a bit of progress.

The thought had barely crossed his mind when he looked up and saw that smiling little face.

'If one were to talk about the most significant progress...'

'I'm afraid it would still be this temperament.'

'I hope this trial is useful for Eighth Sister.'

With that thought, Qin Wangchuan didn't say anything more, turned around, and continued walking toward the backyard.

Behind him, the smugness on Qin Zhaoer's face faded bit by bit.

She reached out and lightly touched her lips, then glanced at the youth's back in front of her.

At an angle where no one could see, the corners of her mouth curved up slightly.

Arriving at the backyard, Qin Wangchuan stopped in front of the workbench, took another one from the tray, and took a bite.

The moment his teeth closed, his brows furrowed slightly, subconsciously preparing to bite into a bone fragment again.

But this time, the meat filling was smooth, with no hard objects to be found.

He paused, a look of slight surprise appearing on his face.

"... This one has no bones."

"Of course."

Qin Zhaoer immediately puffed out her small chest and said proudly, "I told you I picked out the bones; the one just now was an accident!"

Qin Wangchuan didn't say anything more and finished eating peacefully.

Even knowing there might be bones inside, he still ate it.

Seeing this, she didn't say anything on the surface, but her heart felt a secret sweetness.

After finishing the last one, Qin Wangchuan casually placed the tray on the low stool beside the furnace.

That was the spot where Qin Zhaoer usually sat to watch him blacksmith.

With one hand, he took down the hammer, and with the other, he picked up the unformed sword blank from yesterday off the workbench and placed it into the furnace.

He then straightened up, opened the furnace, and stoked the fire.

Tongues of fire licked the iron body inch by inch, turning the half-finished sword blank bright red.

It was at this moment that soft footsteps sounded behind him.

Qin Zhaoer walked to the low stool, bent down to remove the tray from the seat, and placed it gently by her feet.

She then sat on the stool, propped her chin on her hand, and watched him work.

One put down, one picked up.

Neither said anything.

It was a tacit understanding.

The fire in the furnace grew inch by inch, casting a warm glow on the faces of the two in the courtyard.

The only sounds left in the courtyard were the soft crackle of the furnace fire and the sound of the hammer falling, strike by strike.

Qin Zhaoer sat on the low stool, watching the slight flush the furnace fire cast on his profile.

She watched the arc of his arm as he raised it and then brought the hammer down steadily.

She watched his sideburns damp with sweat and his golden eyes, brightened by the firelight.

Watching, watching... she gradually became lost in thought.

All sounds around her faded into the distance.

The firelight, the clanging of iron, the rustle of wind through the jujube tree leaves in the courtyard.

It was like being separated by a layer of water.

Only the youth before her, his silhouette outlined by the firelight, was etched into her eyes inch by inch.

"Qin Wangchuan."

"Let's get married."

The instant the voice fell silent, Qin Zhaoer snapped back to reality.

Her whole body stiffened on the low stool, and she even forgot to breathe.