Chapter 72: Volunteering Oneself

At this moment, Qiu Chuji had clearly misunderstood the meaning behind Fang Xu's words, unable to conceal his embarrassment as he lowered his head. After all, from Qiu Chuji’s perspective, he mustn’t let Fang Xu see his expression right now. If Fang Xu did see it, Qiu Chuji felt he might as well die of shame on the spot! What expression could possibly lead to such a mortifying result?! Qiu Chuji only felt his face burning, the heat rising to the point he could sense his very body temperature climbing. He even felt a wave of restlessness, making it impossible for him to meet Fang Xu’s eyes.

"I… I… I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m going to rest!" Qiu Chuji stammered, lying down without once glancing at Fang Xu.

"Let me explain—" Fang Xu tried.

"I’m not in the mood right now! Whatever it is, let’s talk tomorrow!" Qiu Chuji cut him off before he could finish, for who knew if Fang Xu might say something even more embarrassing? After all, in Qiu Chuji's mind, he was far from prepared for this.

Seeing Qiu Chuji’s reaction, Fang Xu was both amused and exasperated, only more certain that Qiu Chuji had gotten the wrong idea. What Fang Xu meant by "needing" Qiu Chuji was worlds apart from what Qiu Chuji imagined.

To clarify: in Qiu Chuji’s mind, Fang Xu’s "need" was a heartfelt confession, a notion that, having never experienced such things, she instinctively connected to romance. But for Fang Xu, it was much simpler: currently, Qiu Chuji was the only one capable of producing flash bombs. Therefore, he needed Qiu Chuji’s help with future batches, and, if possible, hoped she could also produce gunpowder, so he could craft even more powerful explosives.

That was all Fang Xu meant by "needing" her. But since Qiu Chuji had already misunderstood, perhaps it was best not to explain further. After all, that was the situation as it stood.

Once Fang Xu had settled in bed, Qiu Chuji finally opened her tightly shut eyes. Her gaze was practically brimming with moisture, and she pressed her burning cheeks with both hands, lost in thought.

"This is unbearable! Qiu Chuji, what’s gotten into you?! Could a single sentence really unnerve you so badly? Can’t you have a bit more backbone?!" She berated herself, covering her flushed cheeks.

"No matter what, someone must guard the Quanzhen Temple—I can’t let myself act on impulse!" With that resolved, Qiu Chuji gradually drifted into sleep.

The night passed without further incident; everyone slumbered peacefully.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the gauze window, waking Fang Xu. He stretched lazily, and noticed Qiu Chuji was already gone, leaving him quite puzzled.

After dressing, Fang Xu opened the door to find Qiu Chuji efficiently directing the villagers in their tasks. The rhythm of the work seemed markedly quicker than the day before, which piqued Fang Xu’s curiosity. Before he could ask Qiu Chuji about it, the county magistrate and his advisor, who had been waiting for Fang Xu, hurried over, talking over each other incessantly.

What did this feel like? Like being beset by a swarm of mosquitoes buzzing in your ears at dawn—enough to drive anyone else mad with irritation. Yet Fang Xu chose to listen carefully, seeking to understand what had happened.

He soon realized why the villagers’ pace had increased, and why the magistrate and advisor were hovering around him. They both knew that Fang Xu was planning to leave the next day—and, more importantly, that Qiu Chuji intended to go with him.

That, indeed, was the crux of the matter, though the magistrate and the advisor each had their own reasons.

For the magistrate, the concern was simple: if Qiu Chuji, the last person at Quanzhen Temple, departed with Fang Xu, there would be no one left to oversee the temple. Who would manage its affairs then? If the temple were still in its previous ruined state, the magistrate might not have cared. But after its renovation and with rumors of miracles, the potential benefits were now too tempting to ignore.

When Fang Xu heard that Qiu Chuji meant to accompany him, he could hardly believe it. After all, Qiu Chuji had flatly refused the night before—what had changed by morning? But before Fang Xu could ask, the magistrate entangled him in conversation.

As for the temple’s future offerings, Fang Xu had already considered this. He instructed Old Wu to select two trustworthy subordinates to guard the temple.

The advisor, however, had a completely different agenda. He cared nothing for what would happen to Quanzhen Temple. In his mind, his own prospects now hinged on Fang Xu’s favor. That morning, he had even resigned from his post at the magistrate’s office, hoping to recommend himself to Fang Xu and secure a new position.

Clearly, this advisor was both bold and decisive—precisely the kind of person Fang Xu valued and could put to use. More importantly, Fang Xu lacked a true strategist at his side, someone with flexibility and insight. This advisor seemed the ideal candidate.