Chapter Sixty: The Three-Year Promise

Now that the Concealing Array was fully set up and the Gathering Array’s aura completely hidden, He Song couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

At last, he no longer needed to worry about his identity as a formation master being exposed.

With the Concealing Array in place, even if He Song brought someone into his meditation chamber, they would have no idea they were already enveloped by two layers of formations.

Nor would they ever suspect that the unremarkable He Song before them was, in fact, a master of arrays.

Once the Concealing Array was complete, He Song left the meditation chamber and entered his room.

He sat down at his desk and brewed himself a cup of tea.

A faint, delicate aroma wafted through the room.

The lingering fatigue that clung to He Song after setting up the array slowly faded, his spirit gradually recovering.

He took a gentle sip.

The taste was unlike anything ordinary, causing He Song a moment’s puzzlement.

But then, suddenly, the image of Binger flashed through his mind.

Binger from the Spirit Arts Pavilion.

Three years ago, Binger had gifted He Song a box of fine tea.

Now, three years later, he brewed a pot from that same box in his own room.

In the blink of an eye, three years had passed.

He wondered if, at this very moment, the Binger who had once personally brought him tea was free.

Would he be able to fulfill his promise—a promise made to invite her to share a cup, rather than drink alone?

A meeting delayed by three years seemed, indeed, rather long.

He Song pondered for a moment, and a thin sheet of paper appeared in his hand.

“Friend Binger, three years ago, you gifted me a box of fine tea, for which I am deeply grateful. Yet mundane affairs and distractions kept me from expressing my thanks. Now, as I once more take out that tea, I realize how swiftly time has flown—three years in the blink of an eye. I wonder if you are free these days. Today I drink alone, and fear to let your kind gesture go unappreciated. He Song.”

Threads of spiritual energy flowed from his fingertips, swiftly etching lines of words onto the paper.

Once satisfied, He Song pointed lightly at the message.

A moment later, a paper crane, imbued with the message, soared into the sky and vanished into the distance.

Far away...

At the Spirit Arts Pavilion.

On the second floor.

Binger, in the midst of her daily cultivation, suddenly opened her eyes.

Her beautiful eyes flickered with curiosity as she gazed at the messenger crane before her.

A messenger crane?

In this immortal market, she was only familiar with people from the Spirit Arts Pavilion.

If anyone from the Pavilion wished to see her, they would come directly.

Why would someone use a messaging technique to contact her?

Perplexed, Binger released a trace of her own aura.

Instantly, the luminous messenger crane dissolved into a sheet of paper.

The paper fluttered into her hand, and lines of writing appeared before her eyes.

“So he’s not dead after all…”

When she finished reading, a flash of realization passed through Binger’s gaze.

Three years without a word.

She had thought He Song must have perished in some forsaken corner.

Otherwise, well—three years! He ought to have contacted her long ago.

Especially since the little box of tea she’d given him back then had not come cheap.

She had waited and waited, but his message never came.

Yet she dared not reach out herself, lest He Song think she was seeking repayment for her favor.

So, after three years, she had all but resigned herself to the fact that her effort had been in vain—that the He Song she’d hoped to befriend had likely died somewhere far away.

But now…

Looking at the paper in her hand, at the lines of writing upon it,

She suddenly realized—

It wasn’t death that took him; he had simply forgotten her.

A pang of disappointment struck her heart.

But she quickly drew a deep breath, composed her thoughts, and calmly took out a sheet of paper.

Spiritual energy flowed from her fingertips, engraving words onto the page.

“Friend He, how could I refuse your invitation? Where are you now? I will come at once. Binger.”

Upon receiving Binger's reply, He Song thought for a moment and decided to choose a teahouse within the immortal market as their meeting place.

“I await your esteemed presence at the Hundred Flowers Teahouse,” he sent, before releasing the messenger crane once more.

Then, after a brief pause, he placed several sturdy Earth Talismans within easy reach.

Only then did he rise and head out, making his way directly to the Hundred Flowers Teahouse.

To invite someone into his own home—

Such a thing was utterly out of the question.

After all, they had only met three times before; this would be the fourth.

Even if they had met a hundred times and become close friends, He Song would always think twice before inviting someone into his own residence.

Times were different now.

Before, with no secrets at home, inviting a guest in was no trouble.

But now, with two formations operating simultaneously, if anyone noticed something amiss, he would immediately become the target of countless cultivators.

Such a risk, He Song dared not take.

Hundred Flowers Teahouse.

Named for its signature Hundred Flowers Tea.

Hundred Flowers Tea was made from the petals of a hundred rare and fragrant blossoms.

Once brewed, the floral aroma filled the room, as if one were surrounded by a sea of flowers, soothing the heart and mind.

A single sip would leave a lingering fragrance on the lips and tongue for three days.

Alas, it was not a spiritual tea. In the mortal world, it might be worth a fortune, but in the immortal market, its price was nothing exceptional.

Arriving at the Hundred Flowers Teahouse, He Song casually chose a private room. After ordering a pot of Hundred Flowers Tea and setting it aside, he took out the box of tea from Binger and began brewing it carefully.

Before long,

The rich fragrance of tea filled the entire room.

Binger arrived as well.

Today, she was not dressed in the distinctive uniform of the Spirit Arts Pavilion, but instead wore a light green robe.

The pale green robe, accented with delicate adornments, made her appear quite different from He Song’s recollection.

This attire accentuated her already lovely features, making her even more enchanting, her figure more graceful.

Indeed, clothing makes the person as much as a saddle makes the horse.

A change of attire truly made a difference.

He Song silently praised her in his heart, though none of it showed on his face.

This invitation to share tea had only been prompted by a sudden recollection of his three-year-old promise—and a wish to see what Binger was really up to.

As for other matters… there were indeed a few questions he intended to ask.

“Friend He, I have waited three full years for this pot of tea,” Binger said as she sat across from him, her beautiful eyes gazing straight into his, her expression pitiful and plaintive.

Three years.

How many times does one get three years in a lifetime?

Watching He Song serenely brewing tea before her, Binger’s heart was a tumult of emotions.

She had never imagined that after giving a gift and seeking to make a friend, she would wait three long years for any response.

Yet, upon seeing him face to face, a spark of insight flashed in Binger’s eyes, her expression subtly shifting.

Her faint dissatisfaction was quickly set aside.

This man… how has his cultivation advanced even faster than hers?

In just three short years, he had already reached the fifth level of Qi Refinement.

Three years ago, when they last met, He Song had only just broken through to the fourth level.

Then, she could still sense the aura of recent advancement in his spiritual energy.