Despite all that Mo Jing knew about Li Meirong's suffering due to her accursed nature as a furnace, he did not know that his knowledge barely scratched the surface regarding her exposure to danger. For all he knew, she had simply lived her life in unfavorable circumstances as an outer sect disciple until a fortuitous encounter had elevated her to the rank of direct disciple to a Grandmaster. That, too, was also not achieved without the prodigal son of said grandmaster.

As a result, Mo Jing could not fully understand the reason for her peculiar response to his warning. He worried she was not taking the matter seriously enough, or would disregard his warning entirely.

​​

"You may consider everything else I have said to be rubbish if you must," he exclaimed hastily, "but on this matter I must insist that you listen!" He regained his composure to explain a little more thoroughly, in the hopes that his somber attitude would emphasize the reality of the approaching danger.

"In the arena," he explained, "extinguishing your opponent's life is forbidden under the sect's rules. But in the course of battle, Sister Meirong, accidents are possible…" He looked at her as he finished speaking, and was shocked to see her more amused than disturbed.

The corners of her lips twitched, showing a glimpse of the cute dimples that were visible when she smiled properly.

He stared at her, dumbfounded by her lack of seriosity. He thought, 'If she sees this warning as a mere joke, then perhaps she too has gone somewhat crazy...'

Li Meirong burst into bright, hearty laughter.

"You can put your mind at ease, then, Brother Jing," she giggled, wiping at the tears that formed due to her laughter. "I have lost today's battle and have willingly stepped down from the tournament. I will not be facing Shu Qianqian in battle."

Mo Jing's face turned slightly red as Li Meirong began to laugh, and he opened his mouth to scold her and further attempt to impress the importance of the matter upon her, but then her response actually registered with him and he blinked a few times in shock.

"You lost your battle?" he stammered.

"I have," she replied easily.

He stared at her with clear disbelief, and she simply smiled. "Truly, I did. Right before I got here, I stepped down from the tournament. The opponent I faced today was too strong for me."

This statement was a complete shock for Mo Jing to hear. He had seen Li Meirong's prowess in the first round. Her strength had been highly impressive, and she had been a most fearsome thing to behold in battle. What kind of monstrously strong cultivator had she fought against that someone of her caliber had already lost, before even stepping up to the plate for the finals.

As bizarre as Mo Cheng's behavior had been as of late, Mo Jing would still have sworn that his brother was the strongest disciple in the sect. With this in mind, he had fully expected Li Meirong's showdown to be with either Mo Cheng or Shi Qianqian.

"And you do not wish to contest for another opportunity?" He could not help but ask, genuinely curious as to her answer.

With an air of carelessness about her, Li Meirong shook her head and sat back down. She wrapped an arm around Snowball's soft belly and used her other hand to fix her rumpled clothing.

As she rearranged herself, she explained to Mo Jing.

"I did not join the tournament for my own sake, so quitting was not a substantial loss for me."

She smiled again and watched Mo Jing's face. He was gaping at her like she'd told him something entirely different - or perhaps something utterly shocking. "When it comes to my likes or dislikes… well, I enjoy relaxing in a quiet atmosphere with those I care about. I do not enjoy fighting or putting my spirit pets or myself in danger. The more I thought about it, the more I realised how unsuitable it was for me and how horrible it could have been for me to proceed. So I refused the chance when the judges offered me a position."

Mo Jing heaved a relieved sigh and grasped at his chest after hearing her words, settling back down on his stool properly.

"That is good," he murmured. "That is very good. I thought you might oppose my warning, and insist on battling Sister Qianqian to the death." He almost toppled backwards as he spoke, for the stool offered no back support, but he managed to regain his balance before he fell right off and made a complete fool of himself.

Relief came upon him as if he had been freed of a sackful of stones weighing him down. His concern had been a heavy burden to carry, and to know that Li Meirong would be safely out of the tournament was enough to ease the tension that had formed. Li Meirong did notice some of the stressed tension melt away from Mo Jing, and realised that his concern had indeed been genuine, if unnecessary.

Still, she couldn't help but to suspect that he had yet to be fully honest with her. His nervous gestures were enough of a clue for her.

"Forgive my lack of manners," she said, standing suddenly and causing Mo Jing to flinch. "I haven't offered you anything to drink." She carefully placed Snowball back on the bed in an unhurried manner and went to brew some tea.

"There really is no need," she heard Mo Jing say behind her back. "I did arrive uninvited and unannounced to speak of this embarrassing topic…"

"Since you are aware of how inappropriate your arrival was, why do you linger?" Snowball's spite-filled voice demanded.

"I… that is… Sister Meirong needs to know all this," Mo Jing stammered. Snowball scoffed.

"Master does not require nor care for your opinion."

"It would not be right or proper to withhold this information from her," Mo Jing insisted.

Li Meirong kept her back turned to the two males, but she listened attentively to the conversation taking place. She knew that the embarrassing topic Mo Jing referred to was solely regarding his brother, and not about Shu Qiaanqian's threat to her life.

She did not offer her opinion on the subject, though, instead keeping her mouth shut and offering only silence.

There was one thing she was sure of, however: Mo Jing had not told her everything. He seemed too nervous, as if he was still holding something close to his chest.

The focus of his interest revolved around his brother's condition more than anything else, and he still hadn't told her why he had revealed Mo Cheng's condition in the first place.

When the water had been heated and the tea had brewed for the perfect length of time, Li Meirong poured a cup for Mo Jing and another for herself.

The teapot was set upon the table beside him, ready for refills, and the rest of the matching cups were stacked beside the teapot.

"It smells wonderful," Mo Jing said, lightly tapping his finger on the table. Despite his complimentary words, he had yet to touch the cup.

Li Meirong nodded and lifted her own cup to just below her nose, inhaling the delicate scent that wafted up from the surface of the drink.

"It is white tea, infused with dried mandarin peel and ginger," she informed him.

The fox spirit observed his wife enjoying the fragrance of her tea in the company of another man and was hard pressed to keep his claws from tearing the bed's linens beneath his paws.

Was it not the case that he was her husband?

He sulked silently. Why had he never been offered this white tea before?