The White Moonlight Disdained by the Male Protagonist of Redemption - Chapter 11.2

Ning Yuzhu, as insensible as ever, continued, “Seriously, don’t you think something’s wrong with his head? Even Chu Xiao said something weird about him. The way he described him… It’s like he’s a completely different person. What do you think?”

Ning Yao replied flatly, “I don’t think much of it.”

“What does that mean?”

It meant exactly what she said.

You can’t define a person based on a few words. It was like blind men trying to describe an elephant—except they at least touched something real. But with just a few scattered rumors? No cause, no effect. No judgment.

Besides, people shouldn’t be too picky.

If she kept demanding this and that, she might never find a better partner than Feng Jingzhuo. He spoke little, worked hard, and had the ability to help her achieve her goals. He wouldn’t lose out either.

In the end, they could help each other, achieve their ambitions, and part ways cleanly when the time came.

What more could she ask for?

As for what kind of person he really was—whether he was the stubborn yet fragile one standing in front of her, the cunning and ruthless one Chu Xiao described, or something else—it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t like she was choosing a husband. Thinking too much about it was pointless. Just the few strengths he had were already far better than having a timid and obedient spouse who only whispered sweet words all day.

Someone like Ning Yuzhu, who lacked foresight, would never understand this. Ning Yao said casually, “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t get it.”

Ning Yuzhu didn’t care. “Whatever. Are you going to take care of it or not?”

Of course, she was. She was going to see it through to the end.

Ning Yao turned to leave but took two steps before doubling back. She grabbed the jade jar from the table, rolled her eyes at Ning Yuzhu, and walked away.

***

When she arrived, Feng Jingzhuo wasn’t in the room.

Ning Yao glanced around and felt something was off.

Ning Yuzhu had come early in the morning, stormed off crying and fuming, and with his emotions always written all over his face, there was no way Feng Jingzhuo wouldn’t have noticed. He must have known she would come looking for him.

So if he wasn’t here… was he avoiding her?

Ning Yao tilted her head, staring at the ceiling beam. Should she respect his wish and let him hide? Or should she show up in front of him and do something about it?

Whatever had upset Ning Yuzhu so much… who knew what he had done to his own face? But that didn’t matter. In her territory, there was no such thing as licking one’s wounds alone in a corner.

Ning Yao turned and walked out.

It wasn’t hard to track a dragon’s presence. She followed the trail to the area near Muyu Pond. By then, she was sure of his location and slowly made her way downhill.

Sure enough, deep in the dense forest by the pond, Feng Jingzhuo sat leaning against a tree, his body covered in fallen autumn leaves.

His fingers were forming a seal, faint traces of spiritual energy glowing at his fingertips. It was a healing spell.

He tried again and again—unsuccessfully.

So… he did feel pain after all.

Ning Yao stepped forward.

She didn’t bother softening her footsteps, letting dry twigs and leaves crunch loudly beneath her boots.

Feng Jingzhuo’s hand froze. He slowly lowered it, tilting his head slightly, though not completely turning to face her. His side profile, illuminated by sunlight, was strikingly delicate, almost transparent.

But Ning Yao didn’t say a word. Instead, she walked around him to see the other side of his face.

Realizing he couldn’t avoid it, he didn’t move.

One glance was enough. Ning Yao frowned. “Are you trying to make me mad?”

Feng Jingzhuo’s breath grew quieter. He shook his head slightly.

Ning Yao raised a finger, and a pure, concentrated light flowed from her fingertips. In an instant, the wound on his face healed. Since it was fresh, not even a scar remained.

She was fast. Before he could react, it was already over. His fingers, still forming the unfinished spell, stiffened before slowly relaxing. He looked up at her. The little dimples on her cheeks were gone—she must have been in a bad mood.

His voice was hoarse. “Master Ning… I’m sorry.”

“Enough with the apologies. What happened?” Ning Yao crouched down. “Are you uneasy? Or do you think your appearance will bring you trouble? That’s impossible. I’ll protect you.”

Feng Jingzhuo stared at her in a daze.

She continued, “Or is it something else? Whatever it is, you should at least tell me. If you really don’t want to be seen, we can just cover it up with a mask. I don’t have gold or silver, but Old Jie’s iron pot? That’ll do just fine.”

Hearing that, Feng Jingzhuo let out a faint smile—so faint that it looked more sorrowful than anything.

Ning Yao poked his forehead. “If you don’t feel like smiling, then don’t force it. If you really want to cry… well… I guess I can lend you my shoulder.”

Saying that, she plopped down beside him, tilted her head back, and offered him a dependable shoulder to lean on.

Feng Jingzhuo glanced at her, then murmured, “Master Ning, I am not weak. I’m not so fragile. I just feel unworthy—of you, of Young Master Ning’s kindness.”

Ning Yao cut him off. “Why are you being so formal? No need for that.”

Then she asked, “Not weak, huh? Look at the people on this mountain. If it were any of them, I’d have slapped them silly for daring to hurt themselves. But you… can I hit you?”

The answer was obvious—no, she couldn’t.

But Feng Jingzhuo said, “I see you as my master. If you wish to punish me, it is only right.”

Ning Yao: “Huh? Master??”

Feng Jingzhuo nodded.

Was this a joke? Ning Yao felt like she was drowning in disbelief.

She had heard of people becoming like brothers, or even siblings, after spending time together. But turning into a servant-master relationship? That was a first. Why was everything so strange when it came to her?

Fine, whatever. If they were master and servant, then there was no need for games or teasing. Ning Yao grabbed Feng Jingzhuo’s collar, yanking him forward. “You. I already told you to stop calling mi Moutain Master. Call me Yao Yao.”

Feng Jingzhuo: “…”

“Go on.”

They were very close now. A dry leaf swirled down from the tree, brushing past her nose and his chin.

Feng Jingzhuo’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Master Ning, isn’t this… inappropriate?”

Ning Yao thought to herself, Yeah, probably. If I were a little braver and kissed him now, would we skip straight to the happy ending?

But at this moment, she admitted she was too much of a coward. Sure, she had been a leader for years, but she wasn’t exactly a commanding presence. “Hurry up. If… if you don’t call me that… I’ll be mad!”

Feng Jingzhuo suddenly smiled.

This time, it was a real smile. Like a painting coming to life.

He parted his lips. Under her expectant gaze, his voice was soft.

“Yao Yao.”

Ning Yao was finally satisfied. She let go of him. “Now that you’ve called me Yao Yao, we’re friends. And friends don’t act so distant. There aren’t many of us on this mountain. Whatever problem you have, we can work through it together. This is your home too. So from now on, don’t hurt yourself again, got it?”

Feng Jingzhuo looked at her.

A breeze lifted the loose strands of her hair, making them look like tiny tufts of grass.

He wasn’t fragile, not really. But for just a moment—just now—he truly felt like crying.

His voice was soft. “Got it.”