After Constantly Courting Death, I Became the White Moonlight - Chapter 36

As a former top courtesan with a huge idol complex, He Zhizhou was furious.

Forget debuting as the center of a boy band—he could’ve easily formed an AKB84 reboot that took the world by storm! At the very least, he was good enough to secure a resident gig at a high-end lounge. And yet now, he’d been mocked by a bunch of snot-nosed brats as someone who “sings funeral dirges.” His Elsa-style snowflake light show? Brutally rejected and rebranded as some “ghostly paper-burning ritual.”

He Zhizhou felt personally and professionally insulted.
Worse than when someone mocked his swordsmanship as flashy garbage.

Not that he’d dare say that out loud. If the sect found out, he’d be due for another round of “loving guidance.”

The little troublemakers sobbed like they’d witnessed a massacre. The senior disciples watching from the sidelines might have mastered 365 different ways to kill someone, but when it came to soothing a crying child, they were utterly clueless.

Just as the deadlock dragged on awkwardly, it was Pei Ji who stepped forward.

Despite his astonishingly good looks, Pei Ji always wore a grim face. At this moment, his brows were faintly furrowed, lips pressed into a knife-like line. Add in the long sword hanging at his waist, and the message was clear.

“It’s getting chilly. Time to cull the noisy brats.”

Chen Yueming, the closest kid to him, felt her legs turn to jelly. She was certain her little head was about to be skewered like a candied hawthorn. But to her surprise, the man did nothing of the sort. Instead, he leaned down ever so slightly and said, in a low, almost gentle voice.

“Don’t cry.”

It was a clear and pleasant teenage voice, soft and unexpected.

Tears still streaming down her face, Chen Yueming blinked through the blur—and saw the grim-faced black-clad “demon” of a young man handing her something small and unfamiliar.

Squinting, she made out the object’s shape through her watery vision.

It was… a little butterfly, woven from green straw. With a slight twitch of Pei Ji’s fingers, its wings even flapped softly up and down.

Still expressionless, Pei Ji’s tone was stiff, as if he hadn’t done this in years—if ever:
“…For you.”

Chen Yueming bit her lip, unmoved.

She, she, she—she wasn’t about to be bribed with cheap tricks like this!
She was the second daughter of Goose City’s county magistrate, not some pushover who’d fall for a few parlor tricks!

…Even though the little butterfly was kind of cute.

Seeing her purse her lips but say nothing, Pei Ji didn’t press. Instead, he calmly took out another item from his storage pouch and held it out again.

This time, it was a plump little grass-woven frog. With a light press of his finger, it sprang high into the air, flipping once before landing neatly in his hand again.

Even if Chen Yueming still cared about saving face, the other children around her certainly didn’t. A mob of snot-streaked faces instantly swarmed forward, utterly captivated.

Children’s emotions come and go like passing storms. Just moments ago, they were wailing like banshees; now, their entire attention was locked onto Pei Ji’s puppet show, completely ignoring the mix of tears and mucus dripping down their faces like soup.

“Those two earlier were just playing a trick on you,” Pei Ji explained patiently.
“These are our apology gifts. Sorry for scaring you.”

With that, he placed the straw butterfly and frog into the hands of two children nearby.

To be honest, Pei Ji didn’t really look that gentle—but compared to the others? He was practically a saint.

Zheng Weiqi’s sword dance had made her look like a feral peasant hoeing weeds. Ning Ning gave off “live child-eating performance” vibes, and He Zhizhou was the walking embodiment of oily sleaze.

What was that saying again?

Thank the heavens for underachieving coworkers.

The little hellions had their souls scared halfway to heaven and were desperately in need of emotional support. The colder and more standoffish Pei Ji appeared, the more the kids saw him as steady, calm, and pure-hearted—reliable in the most unshakable way.

Like a lotus rising from mud, untouched and unsullied. And let’s not forget—he came bearing tiny, adorable gifts.

The children finally stopped crying, but the expressions on the older disciples’ faces were even more tragic than if they had burst into tears themselves.

He Zhi Zhou looked completely crushed. His finger trembled as he pointed at his own face.
“My devastatingly handsome face is scarier than Pei Ji’s? Why? Why?! Was my performance of One Plum Blossom not dramatic enough?!”

Zheng Weiqi looked like she’d lost her soul, her face dazed and empty.
“I actually lost…? Lost to Pei Ji at entertaining children? My sword skills aren’t even as good as a grass frog now? Am I really just a monkey in disguise?”

The two of them fell deep into a spiral of existential doubt. Only Ning Ning seemed intrigued. She walked up to Pei Ji and tilted her head slightly.
“Did you buy these on the street? Or… did you make them yourself?”

Her voice was soft and silky, brushing gently against the eardrums like a puff of cotton. Pei Ji’s lips pressed tighter together, clearly annoyed. He didn’t seem eager to answer.

“Oh—”
Ning Ning dragged out the syllable, lowering her voice with a smile tucked in her tone.
“So, you made them yourself.”

Wow. Just how many surprises was this male lead hiding?

Not only was he a pure and bashful eggshell of a schoolboy, he also excelled at fighting, cooking, and crafting. Look at that little butterfly’s wings fluttering up and down—
…maybe Pei Ji had a secret soft side, too!

Pei Ji turned his head away, Adam’s apple bobbing slightly.
“I had nothing to do when I was younger, so I learned how to make them.”

“Idiot, Xiao Ji!”

Cheng Ying, the sword spirit, started nagging again like a backseat love coach.
“You can’t just admit you made them! What kind of sword cultivator goes around weaving grass butterflies? Where’s your dignity?!”

Pei Ji looked annoyed, a trace of youthful pride flickering beneath his composed exterior.
“So what if others don’t do it? Why can’t I be the first?”

Cheng Ying was momentarily silenced, but quickly picked up speed again.
“You just don’t get it. If you want to win over a girl, you need to tell a story! Like—one day, you’re walking through the market and see a girl selling handmade grass toys getting harassed by robbers. You rush in like lightning, draw your sword, and in one swift move, slice off the thief’s head. In gratitude, the girl gives you those handmade toys.”

It sighed admiringly at its own genius.
“Hero saves damsel, punishes evil, rewards kindness. A perfect backstory!”

“…And yet you think it’s okay to re-gift someone else’s heartfelt present?”

Pei Ji scoffed internally, a flicker of irritation tightening between his brows.
“Besides, I’m not trying to win anyone’s heart.”

Cheng Ying chuckled darkly.
“Then what about back in Jialan City, huh? After eating the candy Ning Ning bought you, which sword cultivator woke up in the middle of the night, still nursing wounds, and made all those little trinkets by hand under the moonlight? Cut up your fingers, too. I remember—you weren’t even healed yet from your injuries!”

It sighed dramatically, mournful as a ghost story.
“Too bad you didn’t even give them to her the next day. All because you saw Brother He handing her some long-lost sword manual. Was that really necessary?”

Pei Ji stilled at the memory, rubbing his forehead slowly.

“They were just silly little toys,” he muttered. “Even if I gave them to her, she probably wouldn’t have liked them. It had nothing to do with Brother He.”

A deep uncle-like voice echoed smugly in his head.
“Then why’d you say you weren’t trying to win her over, huh? Gotcha there, Xiao Ji!”

Pei Ji didn’t bother correcting the spirit’s confusing mix-up between courting and thanking. He had never liked owing people anything. Back then, Ning Ning had gone out of her way to buy him sweets, so he figured he ought to return the favor with a gift.

Ever since he could remember, Pei Ji had never really prepared a gift for anyone. Thought about it for a long time and figured makeup and perfumes were too cliché, he didn’t own any legendary swords or rare manuals… might as well just craft something himself.

That night, Cheng Ying had nagged endlessly about how that outdated line—“it’s the thought that counts”—was complete nonsense in this day and age.
“If you keep this up, you’re going to die alone.”

Pei Ji rolled his eyes at the time and argued with it until dawn. Neither of them won.

And then—just his luck—he saw He Zhi Zhou handing Ning Ning an ancient sword manual, smiling ear to ear. The man even declared, “I nearly had to sell myself to get this! Almost lost my innocence!”

Pei Ji watched the two of them laughing under the sun. Then he looked down at the grass butterfly, frog, and duckling in his hands.

Said nothing.

Turned back to his room, dragging his injured body without a word.

That day, Cheng Ying was unusually quiet. After a long while, it said, almost sheepishly:
“You know… I think your butterfly, frog, and duckling are pretty cute. …I really like them.”

And so, the matter quietly faded into oblivion.

Pei Ji never mentioned it, and Ning Ning never found out—that on a quiet moonlit night, while still nursing wounds from the battle at Jialan City, he had once earnestly prepared a little gift for her.

His intentions were so pure it bordered on foolishness. But his stubbornness never changed; he was like a pillar carved from stone—unyielding, firm.

Those little trinkets? Pei Ji didn’t even want to look at them. He’d tucked them deep into his storage pouch and never once took them out. After returning to his room that day, he spent an entire day and night buried in a sword manual…

…though, in truth, he didn’t absorb a single word of it.

“What are you thinking about?”

Ning Ning tilted her head and snapped her fingers in front of him. Her round almond eyes shimmered with mischief as she beamed up at him, instantly snapping Pei Ji from his trance.

“The frog and butterfly are adorable!” she said. “Why haven’t I heard before that you can make things like this? What, afraid I’d snatch them all away if I knew?”

She paused for a beat, then added with a sparkle in her eye, “Can you make a rabbit?”

Pei Ji froze slightly. After a moment, a low, nearly inaudible “Mn” came from his throat.

Ning Ning gasped with delight. He kept his face blank, but like a magician performing a trick, he silently reached into his pouch and pulled out a round, chubby little rabbit.

Ning Ning cradled it like a treasure, thanked him sweetly, then began playing with its floppy ears while looking up at him again. “Junior Brother, are you open to sharing your craft? Will you teach me someday?”

From inside the sword, Cheng Ying was practically clucking like a mother hen, shrieking with joy.
“She likes it! Pei Ji, did you see that? She likes it! Did she smile that wide when she got that sword manual from He Zhizhou? Pei Ji, you’re the best!”

Cheng Ying had always viewed He Zhizhou as its number one rival—but alas, its own host was as hopelessly unmotivated as a wet noodle.

Just then, He Zhizhou sauntered up, grinning shamelessly. “Junior Brother, do you have a bird? I wanna play with a bird.”

…The narrator, bless its artificial idiocy, crackled to life with a warning static.

[Warning: inappropriate language detected. After the beep, a formal reprimand will be issued. The Pagoda of Ascension is not a lawless realm. All participants must conduct themselves with dignity.]

Zheng Weiqi stared at him in sheer disbelief.

And then, she watched—mouth agape—as He Zhizhou shamelessly accepted a bird from Pei Ji’s hand… only to not pass that bird to the children, but rather—

—the same butterfly he’d blatantly snatched from one of the kids earlier.

The group of children stared daggers at him, cheeks puffed with suppressed rage, but none dared speak out.

Chen Lubai, witnessing this level of audacity for the first time in her life, was quiet for a long while. When she finally spoke, her tone was difficult to decipher.

“You all truly are cultivators. Unparalleled indeed.”

Just as her words faded, a rush of footsteps echoed from behind.

Turning around, she saw a panting male servant from the Chen household, clearly having run for quite some time. Relief flooded his face the moment he saw them.

“Miss! Something terrible has happened at the estate!”