Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Little Wangshu!

【Bright Future Chat Group】

Wangshu: "@Asta, boss, who on earth was the original owner of that bill of exchange?"

Normally, bills of exchange had expiration dates — but when it came to important people's affairs, best not to pry.

Asta: "My great-grandmother."

Wangshu: "Mind sharing who she is...?"

Asta: "It's a secret~"

Asta: "But you might get a few spam calls soon. Just hang up on all of them."

Was it really okay to just hang up?

This was Cangcheng — deeply intertwined with the Interastral Peace Corporation. The financial networks here were labyrinthine. But thinking about Asta's competence, he figured he had absolutely no reason to worry.

In the end, the funds were successfully transferred into Jingliu's account. She held up her Jade Omen and stared at the screen — at the long string of digits that had suddenly appeared in her balance. Her crimson pupils dilated slightly, her small mouth falling open unconsciously. She'd never seen this many zeros in her life.

She was beginning to admire her future self.

The shopping trip went smoother than imaginable. After procuring all the various flours, soy sauce, seasonings, and greens, Wangshu also picked up two cups of Celestial Bliss Tea along the way.

Very sweet. For an ordinary person like him, perhaps excessively blissful.

"Little Wangshu, let's go buy the cart now!"

Jingliu was helping carry the flour bags. Dozens of pounds were weightless in her arms — the raw stats of a long-life physique were just that unfair.

"Let's go to the Artisan Commission!"

Her eyes lit up. With money, you went to the Artisan Commission for custom work! And not just any apprentice — she wanted a Master Artisan or a Chief Engineer!

"That won't be necessary. My well-off friend sent me a stall cart in advance through some special means."

Thank you, rich lady Asta. A friend this generous was something Wangshu had previously only encountered in novels and TV dramas.

Wait — wasn't transmigration supposed to start with a stretch of hardship and building from nothing? And outside of a few very specific subgenres, weren't transmigrators supposed to be the poster children for being broke?

Looked like he was one of those very specific cases now.

Jingliu's steps faltered almost imperceptibly. Her tone sounded casual and natural: "She... really thinks of everything. She cares about you quite a lot."

Wangshu nodded, speaking with genuine sincerity: "Yeah, she's a great person. Really easy to communicate with too."

Little Jingliu shook her head vigorously, her tone grave: "No — little Wangshu, you need to watch out for bad women who try to win you over with money."

Although her future self seemed even more like a bad woman, that was the future — not now. Maybe in the future, Asta was the right one. But she couldn't prove that at the moment.

"She's the type who's warm to everyone."

Watching little Jingliu freeze for two seconds, then instantly understand and relax, Wangshu's lips curled involuntarily. Senior Jingliu, the young you really is adorable.

Hmph... people who are warm to everyone are the worst, Jingliu grumbled inwardly. Oh well — since the warm-to-everyone lady isn't the one I end up with in the future, then being warm to everyone is actually the best!

They returned home before the day was even half over. The antique architecture paired with the bluestone slabs underfoot gave Wangshu an inexplicable sense of misty Jiangnan charm, even though there was no drizzle today.

"Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever cleaned out the storage room."

Jingliu was hugging several large bags of flour when she suddenly realized there was nowhere to put them.

"No problem. We'll clean it together. I'm pretty decent at housework."

Wangshu agreed readily.

That's the way it should be! Hearing this, Jingliu's small face tilted upward with a hint of satisfaction.

Life with two people should be like this — helping each other, sharing the load. At least, that was how she remembered her parents getting along.

The storage room wasn't large. Although the Xianzhou was riddled with grotto-heavens nested within grotto-heavens — where seemingly tiny spaces could open up into enormous areas — ordinary residential homes weren't that extravagant.

Rich people's places might be, but Jingliu had never seen one. Even though she herself was quite wealthy now.

The flour and other supplies were temporarily piled by the doorway. Stepping inside, the room was stacked with various old belongings bearing distinctly Xianzhou characteristics, all covered in a thin layer of dust.

The most eye-catching items were a neatly folded but visibly aged Cloud Knight standard-issue uniform hanging on the wall, and two swords placed side by side.

One was three feet seven inches long, coated in dust. The other was a broken blade, just over two feet, its cracks impossible to hide even under the grime.

"My father used to be a Cloud Knight. My mother was a tactician from the Divination Commission — she served in the same Cloud Knight division as my father. Most of the things here are what they left behind."

Jingliu spoke softly. This was why she didn't like cleaning the storage room. So many things here were repositories of past memories and emotions.

Until her head dipped slightly — Wangshu ruffled her hair with a comforting touch.

"Let's give this place a proper cleaning today. Things that hold the past shouldn't be covered in dust." Wangshu added: "I'll be right here with you, little Jingliu."

"I'm not 'little Jingliu.'"

She reflexively objected, but didn't shake her head free. She just nuzzled against his hand slightly, then picked up the three-foot-seven-inch, dust-covered sword.

She didn't seem to mind, swinging it idly with no form whatsoever.

"Father loved swords. I heard he was a vanguard in some Cloud Knight division. The room was always filled with his support flying swords."

She swung the longsword again — no technique, just more force behind it this time.

"I never liked these things. But Mom loved them. Apparently, holding a longsword with those support flying swords orbiting around you was supposed to look really cool."

Unfortunately, she couldn't understand what was supposed to be cool about it.

"No idea where all those matching support flying swords ended up."

They were probably dusty too. Jingliu ran her fingers along the blade, and only after a moment remembered that little Wangshu was still beside her.

"Want to give it a swing? I've heard you boys all love swordsmen."

Jingliu's emotions were steady — she hadn't fallen into wistful nostalgia. Come to think of it, little Jingliu loved to laugh. The way her brows and eyes curved when she smiled was very different from Senior Jingliu in the group chat.

The moonlit card flickered into existence at Wangshu's fingertips once more.

Then he gripped the sword.

The blade sang with a clear ring. Frost coated its surface, and the dust scattered as though swept away by moonlight. Within the small storage room, support flying swords hidden in every corner broke free from their resting places, circling around him with tips pointing downward, glowing with a faint, ethereal light.

In that instant, the dim and cluttered storage room was illuminated by the cold sword-light and the orbiting blades, transformed into a crystalline, luminous space — like a miniature sword formation bathed in moonlight.

Little Jingliu's eyes slowly went wide.

"I thought you couldn't fight?"

And also — that's so cool.

It seemed like once a man gripped a sword, he really did become... somewhat different. Especially with the flying swords dancing and orbiting around him, which made her heart beat just a little faster for reasons she couldn't name.

"This is the power you gave me. It doesn't belong to me."

He'd have liked to take a few swings, but Wangshu couldn't yet perfectly control the power of the Propagation-enhanced Jingliu. Each time he borrowed Senior Jingliu's power, though, his base physical abilities seemed to improve by a couple of notches.

Something in this unfamiliar universe seemed to be calling out to him. But when he'd asked Asta, she didn't share the same feeling... Maybe he was just a natural-born sword body.

After a moment, he set the sword down. The support flying swords descended in unison. Without anyone noticing, the storage room had taken on a crystalline sheen — only a lingering trace of cold remained in the air, along with a space that looked considerably tidier after being cleansed by that invisible force.

Before she could appreciate the spectacle, Jingliu shivered.

She blinked, looked at the sword — now returned to normal — then at Wangshu. The memory of that bone-piercing cold that had struck from nowhere when she woke up this morning suddenly snapped into sharp focus!

"Lit! Tle! Wang! Shu!"