Six Six

O Mestre da Espada é Meu Fantoche Restrito Escreva uma nota de despedida. 4309 words 2026-08-05 03:37:52

Page 1/3

Twelve hundred spirit stones could never buy a handcrafted puppet custom-made by the inner sect of the Puppet Master Sect—that was common sense.

This current puppet body had been personally crafted by the present sect master three years ago. At that time, the cost was two million spirit stones, not including the garments. The hair ribbon he had dropped by the pond alone was worth over a hundred thousand.

Ordinary inner sect puppets from the Puppet Master Sect started at a minimum of two hundred thousand spirit stones.

At that moment, the girl turned around, lifting her clear, bright eyes to look at him.

Fu Tingyun tilted his chin slightly, looking down on the small swirl at the crown of her head.

As long as she wasn’t crazy, foolish, or blind, there was no way she would have exchanged him for that kind of twelve-hundred-stone trash.

Su Xiaoyuan shifted her gaze and smiled sweetly at her close friend: “Thanks for opening the path.”

Fu Tingyun turned his head away.

Su Xiaoyuan truly wasn’t very attached to this face, nor did she want some greasy male model puppet. But, after all, she bought the puppet to practice. If she couldn’t even get the pants off, no matter how authoritative the face was, it was useless.

If she didn’t practice, she wouldn’t pass the inner sect exam. Without entering the inner sect, she couldn’t approach Fu Tingyun. Without approaching Fu Tingyun, she couldn’t go home.

An hour was almost up, yet neither of them had properly soaked in the bath.

Ruan Mianmian said, “It’s almost time for dinner. Shall we go eat?”

After all the trouble, Su Xiaoyuan had no appetite and shook her head, “I’ll just take a fasting pill. I’m a bit tired and want to go back to sleep.”

Ruan Mianmian nodded, “I won’t eat either. There’s no spicy raccoon meat tonight anyway, let’s go.” As a Golden Core stage body cultivator, she had long since practiced fasting; eating was purely for pleasure.

Su Xiaoyuan glanced at the trembling puppet of Song Jinshu huddled in the corner of the wall, unsure what he had just experienced.

“What about him...” she cautiously asked her close friend, afraid of provoking her again, “Will he be returned tomorrow?”

Ruan Mianmian gritted her teeth and snarled, “No! He betrayed my feelings. I’m going to keep him here to work like a beast of burden! I’ll even make him help me buy those twelve hundred-stone bed sheets!”

Su Xiaoyuan was speechless.

Ruan Mianmian shouted furiously at the puppet, “Come here, Song Jinshu!”

The puppet stood up, knees pinched together, feet turned inward: “At your command, master.”

Then he curled himself into a ball and literally rolled over.

Su Xiaoyuan was speechless.

The two of them, each with their puppet, chatted as they walked back to the outer sect disciples’ dormitory.

Fu Tingyun quickly learned from their idle chatter that this place was the Yunyu Sect. The girl was an outer sect disciple of Yunyu Sect, who, by some chance, had obtained this puppet.

Fu Tingyun had some knowledge of all the famous sects in the Three Realms and knew what the Yunyu Sect, one of the three main branches of the Hehuan Sect, specialized in. He vaguely remembered that a few years ago, Senior Third Sister had some complicated entanglement with an elder of the Yunyu Sect.

But those things were far from him. No enchantress would foolishly get close to him without knowing the consequences.

Fu Tingyun looked around. The place was lush with vegetation and permeated with spiritual energy, though the impurities were too many, far less pure than the towering Dragon Spine Peak.

Not ideal, but bearable—after all, he only needed to endure it for three months.

Just then, the girl stopped at a small courtyard—their destination.

Each outer sect disciple of the Yunyu Sect had their own small courtyard, though smaller than the inner sect disciples’ since some practice methods were too loud and could disturb others.

Su Xiaoyuan waved goodbye to her close friend and pushed open the slightly ajar wooden door.

Except for Ruan Mianmian, no other guests had ever come to her courtyard. Although the puppet wasn’t human, she still felt nervous and her heart quickened.

“This courtyard is a bit small.”

Small was an understatement. Fu Tingyun did not understand why anyone would call it a courtyard.

Su Xiaoyuan inexplicably felt scorned by this puppet again, but since he was dressed so well, she figured his previous owner must have been wealthy, perhaps a rich landowner.

She didn’t know how he ended up in a secondhand warehouse.

Had his mind broken?

She thought it through. A wealthy owner wouldn’t buy a puppet with innate disabilities. This one was probably scrapped and ended up on the secondhand market.

“Oh right, Fu Tingyun,” she asked casually, “do you remember who your previous owner was?”

“I do.”

Su Xiaoyuan had asked offhandedly, not expecting him to answer. “Who was it?”

Page 2/3

Fu Tingyun didn’t respond verbally but gave her a cold look, leaving it to her to understand.

Ling Yue Immortal had no obligation to answer anyone’s questions.

Sure enough, without giving a direct command, it was useless. Su Xiaoyuan sighed inwardly and asked again, “Fu Tingyun, who was your previous owner? Please answer.”

“Fu Tingyun.”

“Yes, your name is Fu Tingyun,” Su Xiaoyuan slowed her speech, adopting the patience of a kindergarten teacher, “but I’m asking who your previous owner was. Can you tell me, Fu Tingyun?”

“Yes.”

“Who is it, Fu Tingyun?”

“Fu Tingyun.”

“That’s right, you remembered your own name so quickly, very good!” Su Xiaoyuan praised him with a gentle smile, afraid of hurting the puppet’s possibly nonexistent pride.

The puppet lifted his thin eyelids, glared at her sharply, then turned his head away.

Was he angry? Could a puppet have impotent rage?

Su Xiaoyuan sighed and gave up. At least the face was good, and the legs were really long.

Her legs were so long she tiptoed to compare. This puppet was about thirty centimeters taller than her, at least 1.9 meters.

The door lintel of the small cabin was at his forehead. Su Xiaoyuan hadn’t thought the house was low, but with him standing in front, the house suddenly seemed tiny.

She took a key from her waist pouch, unlocked the cabin door, and pushed it open, saying, “Please come in… it might be a bit messy inside…”

Su Xiaoyuan lowered her head sheepishly.

Fu Tingyun couldn’t tolerate chaotic light and noise as a child, but as his cultivation deepened, he became less picky about the environment.

The colorless, shadowless lamps in the Wuji Hall were custom-made years ago and just hadn’t been replaced.

He glanced at the small exposed patch of neck under the girl’s collar, the fine downy hair gilded by the sunset, then withdrew his gaze.

Since he was here, he would settle in.

Su Xiaoyuan felt embarrassed, not because the room was really messy—she had tidied it that morning.

But living here for a year, this small dorm was her home in this world. Bringing a puppet she’d known less than a day into her private space made her feel invaded, ashamed, and uneasy.

Watching the puppet bow his head and step over the threshold, her heart jumped to her throat.

In the cramped space, the puppet’s presence and pressure were even stronger.

The overwhelming “aura” she had first felt in the warehouse crashed over her again.

Su Xiaoyuan felt breathless and hurried to the south-facing window, pushing it open wide.

The evening breeze blew in, billowing the white curtains.

She turned to see the puppet bathed in sunset light, his eyes half-closed, so beautiful it was breath-taking.

Su Xiaoyuan decided to keep him.

Even if she couldn’t get the chastity pants off, he could at least be a decoration in her room.

Fu Tingyun looked around, closed his eyes briefly, almost suffocating.

He glanced sideways at the girl.

This place wasn’t just a little messy; everything she called “a little” was unreliable.

Since he wiped out the demon lair and sealed the Chaos Domain at fifteen, he hadn’t seen such chaos.

He couldn’t understand how such a small, cramped, less-than-box-sized room could be stuffed with so many scattered, disorderly, indescribable things.

Su Xiaoyuan noticed the puppet quietly examining the new home and followed his gaze to review her cozy little room, feeling satisfied.

Small as a sparrow, but complete in its organs.

Against the east wall stood a small single bed with a frame, draped with two layers of gauze: one white, the other a light mint green embroidered with daisy petals.

Opposite the bed was a standard five-tier wooden cabinet, repainted and with drawer handles replaced by little cat paws. Next to it were stacks of rattan chests holding out-of-season clothes, bedding, handkerchiefs, and hair ribbons.

Nearby was a basin rack with a copper basin, a wooden foot soak bucket, clean cloth towels hanging, a small porcelain cup for brushing teeth, a homemade toothbrush, and a porcelain box with green salt tooth powder.

Although cultivators could cleanse their bodies with spells, having lived eighteen years as a modern person, Su Xiaoyuan still found it hard to break the habit—she always felt water was necessary for cleanliness.

Under the south window sat a small wooden table, serving as desk and vanity, sometimes even a dining table. On it were wooden boxes filled with trifles, bamboo pen holders, various bottles and jars, charcoal pencils and paints she made herself, shells and pretty stones collected from the beach, gemstones and beads bought at the market, a possibly fake phoenix eggshell, dragon scales, and spirit frogs made of paper that would hop around when infused with a bit of spiritual energy.

Page 3/3

Beside the table stood an easel she had made herself from bamboo and hemp rope, holding a half-finished quick sketch—a meal she had painted for a second-dimensional couple she liked in her previous life.

Although timid, the couple she shipped was very wild!

Su Xiaoyuan quickly pounced on the easel, took the drawing board down, and flipped it onto the table.

She glanced at the puppet, seeing him calmly surveying the surroundings, and secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

The sunset shone directly on the painting, the glare harsh enough to obscure it.

Yet Fu Tingyun merely glanced once and took in everything in the room, including the things she hastily tried to hide.

It was a half-finished painting of two alluring men embracing and kissing.

The art was clumsy, and she knew it.

That’s why she hurried to hide it.

Su Xiaoyuan patted her flushed cheeks, took a translucent, plump glass bottle filled with homemade fruit candies from the table.

Travelers who crossed worlds often recreated foods from their original worlds to soothe homesickness.

Besides the rare spiritual fruits, the cultivation world also had some mundane fruits. Elder Sang’s Huanhua Island had an orange grove, and these candies were made from those oranges.

Just as she was about to take one, she suddenly met the puppet’s eyes.

Her parents had taught her from childhood that eating alone was impolite.

So she first asked, “Fu Tingyun, can puppets eat?”

Trash puppets worth twelve hundred spirit stones could not, but high-grade puppets like him could.

However, eating was useless—they couldn’t absorb spiritual energy from food or pills and would soon melt away without a trace.

But she had asked if it was allowed, so he answered: “Yes.”

“Have you ever eaten candy, Fu Tingyun?”

He had fasted since infancy and never eaten any solid food in this life.

“No.”

“Then try some,” she offered him the bottle, “this is my homemade fruit candy.”

The puppet did not take it; he had no need.

Su Xiaoyuan thought he didn’t understand and poured one into her palm.

The pale orange translucent candy rolled in her hand, sparkling in the sunset. A fresh, slightly sour aroma spread through the room, carried by the cool breeze.

“This is candy, very sweet. Try it,” Su Xiaoyuan said.

The puppet remained unmoved.

“Can’t you eat?” she murmured, picking up the candy and bringing it to his lips, “Open your mouth, Fu Tingyun.”

Fu Tingyun parted his lips and took the candy from her fingertip.

Su Xiaoyuan felt a slight wetness on her finger and quickly withdrew her hand, her face flushing again.

She hadn’t known puppet lips and tongues were moist like a real person’s.

Her heart tingled strangely, as if a feline had licked her.

“Well… you still don’t know my name, right…” Su Xiaoyuan rubbed her fingers, trying to ease the awkwardness, “My name is Su Xiaoyuan, but you can call me Xiaoyuan. Say it with me: Fu Tingyun, Xiaoyuan.”

Fu Tingyun tasted the unfamiliar sweetness dissolving on his tongue.

His gaze rested on the girl’s face, where the sunset cast mottled light.

Her radiant skin was tinged the color of orange candy.

The taste on his tongue had melted away, but the flavor lingered.

“Xiao, Yuan.”