Starting with a Family System to Become an Immortal Official Chapter 79
Li Qingmu staggered out of the celebration pavilion like a newborn foal trying to stand on ice.
His left foot caught the first wooden plank wrong.
He lurched sideways and his shoulder slammed into the railing with a dull thunk.
A low, gravelly groan-cough rattled out of his chest.
"Keh... what in the nine hells was in that wine Huo Batian kept pouring?"
He pushed off the rail, took three heroic steps—then his knee buckled like cheap bamboo.
Palm slapped wood again.
Another miserable left his mouth.
"Dammit... legs, cooperate..."
He dragged himself another few paces, using the railing like an old man’s walking staff. The bridge seemed to sway under him even though it was carved from ten-thousand-year spirit cedar and hadn’t moved in centuries. Every few steps he had to stop, blink hard against the spinning lanterns in his vision, and breathe through his mouth like he’d just run up nine peaks without a movement technique.
Halfway across, he nearly ate grass.
Again he caught himself against the railing.
Forehead pressed to cool wood.
He let out a long, defeated exhale.
"Urggh... I feel so sick..."
He lifted his head slowly.
"Eh?"
He blinked three times.
Across the bridge, near the main gate.
A ginkgo tree stood in a pool of moonlight.
Golden leaves drifted down in lazy spirals.
And beneath it...
A woman in flowing red robes, silk scarf draped loosely over bare porcelain shoulders. Long hair like spilled snow caught the breeze. Posture straight as an immortal sword, yet soft in a way that made the heart stutter.
Li Qingmu rubbed both eyes with the heel of one palm so hard he could see stars.
When he looked again, she had turned.
Song Yan.
That warm, mature smile that always touched him.
Her vixen eyes curved gently at the corners.
"You drank quite a lot tonight."
A low and smooth voice like aged lute strings.
"But at least you made the effort to come."
She adjusted the silk scarf with slender fingers to draw it a fraction higher.
The action was casual and elegant.
Normally her perfect, pearl-like breasts would’ve bounced when she made such a motion but they were being sheltered by her silk scarf.
Li Qingmu let out a long, bone-deep sigh and shuffled the last few paces until he could lean his weight against the tree trunk beside her.
"Good. Because I’m far too tired to apologize for anything else tonight."
Song Yan folded her arms beneath her breasts.
The scarf still blocked any generous view.
Her gentle smile turned a tad sterner though her smile never quite disappeared.
"Do you have any idea how long this grand elder has been standing here waiting?"
She lifted her chin a proud half-inch.
"Hmph. A woman of my status should not have to wait so long for a mere subordinate."
The words landed like soft slaps.
And yet...
Li Qingmu felt no sting of humiliation.
He never had—not really—with her.
All these years, despite her terrifying cultivation and her cold reputation, she had never once looked down on him like he was an ant. She had never spoken to him as if he were a servant, either. The only time he ever felt truly inferior in her presence was because of her beauty... it felt as though the heavens themselves had carved her and as such it was far too perfect for any man to deserve.
That thought invited an unexpected smile to his face.
Song Yan’s brows pinched.
"What’s so funny?"
Li Qingmu brought his palms together and bowed his head with genuine respect.
"This subordinate apologizes sincerely for arriving so late. The sect elders... they were very enthusiastic. I lost myself for a while."
Song Yan’s vixen eyes widened a fraction.
『He’s actually apologizing?』
She frowned mildly.
『I actually prefer him when he doesn’t apologize and tries to be stubborn. I know I call it childish but that doesn’t mean I don’t like the familiarity between us...』
She cleared her throat tenderly.
"I know those old foxes are circling you more every day because of your excellence. But you would do well to remember one thing."
She finally met his gaze again.
"You belong to MY Fenghuang Peak first. Before any man. Before any... woman."
For an instant, the mask slipped.
A soft, vulnerable light passed through her eyes.
Li Qingmu’s heart stopped beating.
Only for a while, thankfully.
Song Yan looked away quickly.
As though she was startled by her own honesty.
"As long as you remain loyal to me... as long as you never betray my trust..."
She placed one cool palm flat against his chest, right over his thundering heart.
"...I will ensure you enjoy many privileges."
Her voice softened to near-whisper.
"And I... will be one of those privileges."
Li Qingmu’s brows shot toward his hairline.
『HUH—?!』
His drunken mind spun in frantic circles.
『Is she... making a move? Right now? She could crush me with a finger. Literally. But if I take the risk and I actually touch her does that mean... tonight I could... bed a beautiful and cold grand elder?』
He shook his head violently.
『No. No no no. Big Sis Song is too pure and lofty for that. She’s probably testing me. If I return the energy she’ll obliterate me. As a respectable clan chief and a husband of three lovely wives I cannot—』
And yet.
Reality did not care for his noble internal monologue.
His left hand was already on the small of her back.
His right palm had slid down lower.
Cupping one soft, perky cheek through her robes.
He hadn’t squeezed—not yet—but the feel alone made every other woman he’d ever touched suddenly seem like coarse linen next to cloud satin.
Song Yan stared up at him.
No blush. No squeak. No slap.
Just those unreadable vixen eyes.
She bit her lower lip sensually.
"You’re... quite close, Qingmu."
He nodded once, throat dry.
"Is it... permissible for this subordinate to express his loyalty in this manner?"
He leaned down slowly.
Their breaths mingled.
And then—
"Senior Sister..."
A voice like cracking stone.
Song Yan’s gaze flicked sideways.
Patriarch Zhen stood at the corner of the gate, face dark as a thundercloud about to burst.
Behind him.
Gu Jiayue stood shakily with her mouth open in a perfect little ’O’ of shock.
Li Qingmu followed Song Yan’s line of sight.
Saw the old man’s murderous expression.
Gulped audibly.
『Dead. I am so dead.』
Patriarch Zhen’s fists shivered.
『Can’t let her out of my sight for one minute... this little predator will make me call him martial uncle in the most disgusting way possible...!』
Song Yan read the murder in her junior brother’s eyes instantly.
『I can’t let him punish Qingmu.』
She adjusted her scarf and pushed Li Qingmu back a step before heading to the fuming patriarch.
Li Qingmu blinked.
"Eh?"
Song Yan didn’t glance at him.
"It seems the young chief has grown far too arrogant lately and needs some correcting."
Her tone turned stern and authoritative.
"He dares flirt with his superiors. Clearly he needs a proper lesson so he never repeats the mistake."
She turned her head slightly.
"Jiayue."
Gu Jiayue snapped to attention.
"Yes, Grand Elder!"
"Ten thousand bags of spirit rice. Have them delivered to his courtyard immediately. He will count every single grain by hand until he is finished."
Patriarch Zhen and Gu Jiayue nodded together.
『Finally!』
Li Qingmu’s soul left his body for a second.
『WHAT—?! She started it! She said—! I was just being a man and responding!』
Song Yan caught the naked panic on his face.
Her steps faltered for a moment.
『...Was that too harsh?』
She cleared her throat uncomfortably and walked away with hurried steps.
Patriarch Zhen fired Li Qingmu one last venomous look before following.
Gu Jiayue lingered just long enough to smirk.
"Sweet dreams, Chief Li. You’ll need them."
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Next morning.
A quiet pavilion near the eastern wall.
Li Qingmu sat cross-legged on a mat with sleeves rolled up and chopsticks in hand.
Before him.
One small porcelain bowl half-full of spirit rice grains.
And around him were approximately four hundred and seventeen other bowls that were painstakingly counted and sorted in neat rows.
His eyes were bloodshot.
His hair looked like a bird’s nest had exploded in it.
He dropped another grain with surgical precision.
"...four hundred thirty-seven thousand, eight hundred and twelve..."
Then a gnarled hand appeared above the bowl.
It opened.
A generous shower of uncounted spirit rice poured in and ruined the neat pile.
Li Qingmu’s eye twitched.
He looked up.
Patriarch Zhen Guang stood there grinning like a child who’d just stolen candy.
"Oops!"
The old man said, not sorry at all.
Li Qingmu’s voice came out flat.
"Don’t you have work to do, Patriarch?"
"Not in your dreams, boy."
The old head chuckled, already reaching for another handful from the open sack beside him.
"I’ll make sure you keep counting these until my senior sister is safely married off. Hah!"
Li Qingmu clicked his tongue and resumed counting.
"Didn’t even do anything wrong... and she punishes me like some child..."
Patriarch Zhen watched him with a calm look.
The boy still didn’t understand.
Song Yan was a blood scorpion.
Men who touched her without permission usually lost more than fingers.
Yet she had given him spirit rice.
Ten thousand bags of it.
Grains worth a small fortune.
Not ordinary rice or punishment rice.
Treasure rice.
Zhen Guang’s smile softened just a little.
『To think I’d see the day Senior Sister actually cares this much about a man...』
He tossed another careless handful into the bowl.
Li Qingmu groaned.
"This will change when I become an official!"