All The Female Disciples Want To Kill Me-Chapter 534 - Three Hundred and Fourteen_1

Chapter 534: Chapter Three Hundred and Fourteen_1
Dim starlight fell upon Li Zijun’s face. Beads of water clung to the strands of hair on her forehead, slipping drop by drop to her collarbone.
Her wet clothes clung to her body, accentuating her delicate, well-proportioned figure, making her appear almost half-naked. Her jade-like arm was gently curved, revealing her exquisite charm.
With a delicate hand, she gently gathered her damp hair behind her head. The water had soaked her dress, outlining her perfect figure. She looked at Ji Nanjue, somewhat embarrassed.
The clothes she had not fully removed clung completely to her delicate body, translucent enough to reveal the color of her skin beneath. Her usually loose-fitting dress concealed much, but now it revealed her true form, like seeing the true face of Mount Lu.
Ji Nanjue was clearly surprised as she looked at Li Zijun. Then, she curled the corner of her mouth and said playfully, "It seems master and disciple are cut from the same cloth... even in lying."
"Forget it," Ji Nanjue continued. "If you want to call me ’Sister,’ go ahead. ’Shiniang’ really does sound quite old-fashioned."
Li Zijun remained silent. Submerged in the water, her jade-like legs gently stirred the surface, creating ripples and a few splashes.
Then, Ji Nanjue, with a slight push of her own jade-like arms, stood up from the water, completely bare. The water reached just past the tops of her thighs, revealing her slender, flat waist, free of any excess flesh.
"Take off your clothes," Ji Nanjue said to Li Zijun. "You can’t bathe while wearing them, can you?"
Along her journey, Li Zijun had worn this same dress for who knows how long, although it bore no stains.
Li Zijun, a bit shyly, took off her dress and placed it on the bank, then immediately sat back down in the pool, concealing herself thoroughly in the water.
Ji Nanjue did not laugh at her and sat down beside her in the water.
The air felt heavy, and the atmosphere, as it often is before rain, seemed particularly restless.
Ji Nanjue’s small hand gently scooped up water, letting it splash down, and she suddenly spoke, "You’ve only met him a few times, yet you’re so sure of your feelings?"
"It’s normal to admire someone at your age, but your words and actions don’t seem like those of an impulsive person."
"I’m curious. Can you tell me what you’re thinking?"
After a pause, perhaps feeling her question was indeed a bit probing, Ji Nanjue added with a smile, "Of course, it’s okay if you don’t want to say..."
As she spoke, Ji Nanjue’s eyes watched Li Zijun intently.
"My thoughts?" Li Zijun lightly pursed her thin lips. Without looking at Ji Nanjue, she murmured softly.
Gazing at the somewhat dim water of the pool, she pondered for a moment before speaking in a low voice, "Does liking someone necessarily require thoughts or reasons?"
"Isn’t it often that at a certain moment, because of something that deeply stirs your heart, you find that someone has unknowingly taken root there?"
"Perhaps it’s just a glance, or a particular gesture."
Ji Nanjue was momentarily stunned. Listening to Li Zijun’s voice, which sounded somewhat despondent—though her tone was gentle—Ji Nanjue could, for some reason, discern a great deal of melancholy within it.
Then Ji Nanjue wrapped her arms tightly around Li Zijun, pressing her cheek to Li Zijun’s.
"Love at first sight?" Ji Nanjue asked.
Perhaps previously, Ji Nanjue would have scoffed at such a phrase, dismissing it as mere nonsense. The idea that two people could fix their hearts on one another after just one glance? That could only be, she would have thought, a matter of being captivated by the other’s beauty.
Yet now, she was gradually coming to accept the notion. The trajectories of her life and Su Bei’s had always unintentionally aligned. Especially after they had returned from the brink of death together, the bond forged between them through shared hardship was naturally extremely profound.
Perhaps even before that night, Su Bei’s image had already been imprinted on her heart, but her long-sealed emotions had never allowed her to acknowledge it.
That might be how it seems to her.
Li Zijun gave a bitter smile, realizing Ji Nanjue had misunderstood her.
Her feelings for Su Bei were far more profound than her simple description suggested; it had taken nearly a hundred years of connection and understanding before she was truly certain of her heart.
"Sister Nan Ji, Zi Jun is feeling a little cold..." Li Zijun hugged her arms around herself lightly and blinked, looking at Ji Nanjue.
Ji Nanjue smiled gently at her. "Go on back then," she said. "Sh... Sister will stay here alone for a little while."
Her heart was filled with complex emotions.
Ultimately, she was a woman. Even though she knew her relationship with Su Bei could never be public, she still felt a sense of rejection towards any woman who might take away even a fraction of his affection from her.
Moreover, this woman was his disciple... By any measure, emotional or rational, it felt deeply inappropriate, almost a transgression.
A peculiar thought surfaced in Ji Nanjue’s mind: Su Bei’s disciple, her own ’master’ Su Bei... and herself caught in between?
What a tangled web of relationships... like three generations living under one roof, wasn’t it?
It’s all Su Dudu’s fault.
There’s no absolute right or wrong in matters of love. But if blame had to be assigned, the root cause was that philandering scoundrel. If he hadn’t spread his affections so carelessly, how could he have accumulated so many emotional debts?
He, on the other hand, was certainly enjoying himself...
Li Zijun waved her hand in front of Ji Nanjue’s face. Ji Nanjue snapped back to her senses and, with a light laugh, playfully tapped Li Zijun’s delicate nose.
"You’ve worn that dress of yours for too long," Ji Nanjue said. "If you don’t mind, you can wear this one of mine for now."
Li Zijun was silent for a moment.
Ji Nanjue’s hand then pointed towards a white gauze dress lying on the bank.
Li Zijun blinked her eyes, then gave Ji Nanjue a sweet smile.
With a soft rustle of fabric, Li Zijun put on the dress and headed towards the Daoist Temple.
Ji Nanjue watched Li Zijun’s retreating figure and sighed softly.