When Feng Qingyun saw the scene, a shiver ran through his body as he immediately realized something critical: Mu Hanyang would recognize him within the ruins, realizing that he was his beloved Miss Yu.
But how could that version of “himself” be recognized by Mu Hanyang for no reason at all?
Before Feng Qingyun could frown and figure it out, he turned his head and caught sight of Long Yin’s expression, as dark as the bottom of a pot. Clearly, his man had also seen exactly who Mu Hanyang was mouthing the name of.
In their past life, Long Yin had held back for hundreds of years without ever revealing that secret, nor did he actively try to reunite with Feng Qingyun and share the memories of their past together, all to keep Feng Qingyun from discovering that Mu Hanyang had also entered that illusory world where they first met.
It could be said that he was a textbook example of someone who’d rather destroy his own marriage than let a rival near it, a walking vat of vinegar.
But now?
Well, that’s gone out the window!
From what Ming Jingtai had just shown them, once the ruins truly opened in the future, Mu Hanyang would indeed arrive, and he would also realize everything. But at the thought of what that detestable man might do once he understood the truth, Long Yin’s expression turned grim, and a sharp killing intent rose in him almost immediately, with no intention of hiding it.
Feng Qingyun felt Long Yin’s intent instantly, but rather than feeling he was being cruel, he actually found it… a little amusing.
However, when he turned his eyes back to his Master’s familiar sword that was reflected in the mirror, Feng Qingyun found it impossible to laugh anymore. That ancient ruin had likely existed for thousands of years, so why would his Master’s life-bound weapon be there?
Feng Qingyun puzzled over it again and again, getting nowhere. In the end, he had to accept the most likely truth: that ruin might very well be Zhong Yulan’s burial site.
The thought weighed heavily on his chest, like a stone pressing the breath from his lungs. However, he didn’t have time to process it before the pale-faced Ming Jingtai finally failed to sustain the mirror projection. He suddenly collapsed into a coughing fit, turning his head away.
His heart demon immediately stepped forward and wrapped him in fox fur. Gripping the fur, Ming Jingtai took a deep breath and said weakly: “Apologies, Your Majesties. That’s all I know.”
Feng Qingyun quickly collected himself and offered his thanks: “This is already more than enough. It’s been extremely helpful. Thank you very much.” He then instinctively moved to send the man a stream of spiritual energy, but halfway through the motion, he remembered that Ming Jingtai had no cultivation at all, and forcing in spiritual energy might do more harm than good.
After a moment of hesitation, Feng Qingyun simply gave another polite thanks, then turned his head toward Long Yin. The Demon Lord understood his message as he flicked his sleeve, and a storage pouch dropped directly into Ming Jingtai’s hands.
Clutching the pouch, Ming Jingtai coughed softly, then said in a quiet voice: “This realm was once meant to belong to us mirror demons, yet it is thanks to Your Majesty’s protection through the years that he was able to survive here at all.” After speaking, Ming Jingtai weakly shoved the storage pouch into his heart demon’s hand. The heart demon hurried to take it, grasping the hand that was just as pale as his face. Soon after, Ming Jingtai seemed too exhausted to stay conscious, leaning into the heart demon’s embrace and falling asleep on the spot.
The “he” Ming Jingtai had referred to earlier clearly meant his own heart demon, the Lord of the City of Mirrors. But that frail man had actually sincerely thanked Long Yin for letting his heart demon exist, choosing to turn a blind eye to it rather than coming to eliminate it.
Feng Qingyun couldn’t help but feel increasingly conflicted. Once the two of them had left, he glanced at Long Yin in disbelief. He didn’t even have to ask, as Long Yin already knew what he was thinking, explaining at once: “The stronger the heart demon, the weaker the body. That’s the natural balance… But Ming Jingtai wants his heart demon to live on as an independent being, so in the end, both of them ended up half-dead.”
Feng Qingyun froze for a moment. “Why…” he asked. “Why would he want his heart demon to live on as a separate person?”
It was such a shocking, almost absurd notion that Feng Qingyun found it difficult to wrap his head around. However, Long Yin simply shrugged and replied: “This Lord isn’t a worm in his belly. How would I know what people are thinking when they give up the great path to live as someone else’s shadow?”
And yet, of all people, Long Yin was probably the last person qualified to say that. Feng Qingyun gave him a complicated look, but Long Yin still wore that arrogant “I’m the king of heaven and earth” expression, smoothly shifting the conversation as he asked: “Tell me, Little Palace Master, in your opinion, what is a mirror demon?”
Feng Qingyun hesitated for a moment, then replied: “In my understanding, they seem to be the same type of being as an artifact spirit.”
“An artifact spirit… that’s still putting it too mildly,” Long Yin said, cutting straight to the heart of it. “A mirror that has reflected countless people within it, all their images, words, and obsessions… After a long, long time, those traces will transform into a mirror demon.”
“But most mirror demons, when they first take shape, may not even qualify as artifact spirits. Many of them take on the forms of their owners, or, if the mirror has no owner, whatever person, beast, ghost, or demon it has most frequently reflected.”
“A mirror’s purpose is to reflect all things, but within, it is utterly empty.” Reaching this point, Long Yin quoted quietly:
“Since the mirror is so bright, where could the dust even come from?”
At that, Long Yin turned to look at the mirror in their chamber before he continued: “Ming Jingtai desired a version of himself that existed not as a reflection of someone else, but simply… as he believed he ought to be.”
The way Long Yin said it was so firm, so clear-cut, it didn’t sound like a conjecture at all. Feng Qingyun’s heart wavered at his words. For a moment, he felt as though he had grasped some profound insight. After a long silence, he finally muttered: “A demon that exists in this world… because it is, in his eyes, worthy of existing.”
Long Yin nodded slightly. “Exactly”, he agreed. “Since he wanted the heart demon to live not for anyone else, then he himself had no right to exist either, because a heart demon, by nature, is born as a reflection of its host. So he had the heart demon build this entire city, attempting to gather the power of countless people’s heart demons, in hopes that his own heart demon could one day sever the tie and exist independently.”
So that was the truth behind the City of Mirrors.
Feng Qingyun was stunned. “But his heart demon…”
Long Yin, not needing the rest of the sentence, answered directly: “But his heart demon also wanted him to live. So in turn, the heart demon imprisoned him, and somehow, they both ended up living like this. Tragic, isn’t it?”
Feng Qingyun opened his mouth but found himself at a loss for words. That kind of relationship felt almost… pathological.
“Just let them be,” Long Yin said casually, brushing the topic aside like a real ruthless cultivator. “One’s willing to hit, one’s willing to take it. Their grudges and entanglements have nothing to do with you or me.” He sounded completely indifferent, almost heartlessly detached, turning the conversation to what mattered the most. “We should be more concerned with when that surnamed Mu is going to show up.”
That brought Feng Qingyun back to his senses. He thought once more of the sword reflected in the mirror, and of the name Mu Hanyang had mouthed without sound. At that, he too could no longer find the energy to worry about anyone else’s sad story as he quietly responded: “Mm.”
But over the next few days, everything was so peaceful that it felt… eerie.
The world lay in a strange, soundless calm, much like the quiet that had come just before the collapse of the heavens in their previous life.
In truth, even without Ming Jingtai’s premonition, both he and Long Yin could guess that Mu Hanyang would inevitably arrive here. The Heavenly Gate Ceremony wasn’t going to wait forever, and for someone like Mu Hanyang, who valued reputation more than life itself, he would certainly make his way over at the fastest possible speed.
Yet somehow, Mu Hanyang had used some sort of technique to conceal his presence, and even with the two of them searching together, Feng Qingyun and Long Yin couldn’t sense a single trace of him.
That unsettling peace, like the stillness before a storm, lasted for ten full days. Everyone who had even the slightest clue about the opening of the ruins assumed its appearance would be explosive and earth-shattering.
But in truth, when the relic did descend, it happened in utter silence, right in the middle of the night.
That night, unsure of when the illusory world might open and knowing that dual cultivation would take several days, they refrained from using any dual-cultivation techniques. Instead, they simply spent the night together, tender and close like a mortal married couple.
For once, Feng Qingyun got to feel what “tender affection” truly meant, nearly drowning in it, buried in the pillows.
Yet whether it was from unfamiliarity or something else, his emotions seemed caught in his chest, hovering unresolved. As he drifted between wakefulness and sleep, it felt like something was just… missing. But when he finally returned to full awareness, Feng Qingyun realized that his vines had somehow emerged on their own, curling intimately around Long Yin’s shoulders and tugging the man downward.
“!”
Feng Qingyun’s eyes widened slightly, only to see Long Yin smirking down at him. He leaned close and whispered teasingly in his ear: “Looks like my Little Rose really likes…”
Hearing the rest of that sentence, Feng Qingyun instantly panicked. Gripping the bedsheets, he instinctively tried to scoot backward and blurted: “I do not! Do not!”
But it was already too late. The tide came crashing down.
By the time Feng Qingyun managed to regain his senses from that intense and dizzying pleasure, the night had slipped into its later hours. He lay there with an arm over his eyes, breathing hard for quite a while before finally recovering.
Yet the man beside him still had that infuriating smile on his face.
Feng Qingyun’s ears flushed red. Unable to endure it any longer, he glared at Long Yin, slapped away the hand that had started wandering around his waist again, then put on a robe and prepared to begin cultivation.
Over the past few days, he had been trying to absorb the essence of the moonlight to make up for the shortcomings in his current, half-demon, half-sword cultivator body. And it was at that exact moment that he sensed something strange, a ripple of spiritual power beginning to spread.
The moment Feng Qingyun felt it, his heart skipped a beat. He immediately released his divine consciousness to link it with Long Yin’s, but compared to the speed at which the relic opened, he was still half a beat too late.
As if the entrance had opened right below his feet, Feng Qingyun didn’t even have time to draw his sword before a familiar wave of dizziness overtook him. Gritting his teeth, he endured the sensation and looked up, only to discover his surroundings had transformed completely. In the blink of an eye, he was no longer in their bedchamber but in a simple, cozy farmhouse that somehow felt vaguely familiar.
Feng Qingyun scanned the room warily, his expression uncertain. Then he noticed… Not just the room, but even his own clothing had changed. Looking down at the flowing skirts around him, Feng Qingyun abruptly turned to face the dressing mirror, completely stunned.
And there she was.
A beautiful young woman with bright eyes, fine features, and breathtaking grace.
Feng Qingyun froze, but before he could even react further, a woman holding a butcher’s knife pushed open the door and walked in. She paused mid-step when she saw him already sitting at the dressing table, asking in surprise: “Ah Yu, why are you up so early today? Why not sleep a little longer?”
Feng Qingyun had prepared himself mentally, but actually seeing her still made a wave of unspeakable emotion well up in his heart. He stared in silence for a long moment, then barely managed to choke back the word “Master” from slipping out.
Instead, he forced himself to murmur softly: “…Mother.”
“Ay.”
The woman who looked exactly like his Master, Zhong Yulan, had now become Widow Li once more, Miss Yu‘s mother from Fulong Village. She smiled brightly and replied: “The wealthy landowner from the next village is having a grand engagement today, and the master doesn’t want the offal. Should we have stir-fried liver with sticky rice for lunch, or should I make you a bowl of pig organ soup instead?”
Before she even finished speaking, Bai Ruolin suddenly burst through the door, clutching her sword and looking flustered.
“Mother! No, wait! Master, Master, look at me! I’m…!” But she didn’t get to finish. In her rush, she ran straight through Zhong Yulan, confirming she was nothing more than an illusion. Startled, Bai Ruolin came to a halt and then looked up, only to suddenly notice the figure seated at the dressing table.
She froze in place as she stared dumbfounded at the woman in front of the mirror, the unbelievably beautiful elder sister who, for some reason, looked really familiar.
But could an illusion really take on the form of someone she knew?!
Meanwhile, Zhong Yulan, or rather, Widow Li, acted as though she hadn’t seen Bai Ruolin at all. She simply continued staring intently at Feng Qingyun, clearly waiting for an answer.
Bai Ruolin stared too, eyes fixed unblinking on Feng Qingyun. After a long moment, inspiration struck her like lightning as she finally widened her eyes in shock, blurting out:
“…Senior Brother?!”
Seeing the stunned expression on the young girl’s face as she stared at him, Feng Qingyun assumed she had mistaken him for an illusion, just like Zhong Yulan. He had been planning to say something to reveal his identity and give her a scare, but before he could speak, he was caught off guard by her and froze in place.
So even his Junior Sister, who had never experienced that little illusory world before, could still recognize him at a glance.
“…Yes, it’s me,” Feng Qingyun answered hoarsely, then turned to Zhong Yulan and said softly: “I’d like the stir-fried liver. Thank you, Mother.”
Widow Li smiled as she lifted her butcher knife. “Alright”, she answered. “The wind’s chilly outside. Stay in here and wait.” With that, she turned and walked out.
Feng Qingyun felt a faint ache in the corners of his eyes. Bai Ruolin, still in disbelief, glanced after Zhong Yulan’s departing figure, then turned back and asked: “Brother Qingyun… how come only you can talk to Master, and she only hears you?”
Feng Qingyun hadn’t figured things out himself yet, so he didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he asked: “Mu Hanyang is here too?”
“He’s been here for ages! We arrived ten days ago,” Bai Ruolin replied right away. “But he found some sort of artifact to hide his presence; it looked like a pearl or something. But you know, after we got here… the vendors in the street were all talking about how affectionate you and Senior were… uh… and his face turned green hearing it.”
At that, she paused and added apologetically: “But he kept too close an eye on us, and I didn’t have the chance to send you any messages. I’m sorry, brother.”
“It’s fine.” This was about what Feng Qingyun had expected. Mu Hanyang must’ve found some cloaking technique, and naturally, it wasn’t Bai Ruolin’s fault. After speaking, though, he couldn’t help but ask: “You said ‘us’. So, besides Mu Hanyang and you, who else came?”
Bai Ruolin made a face before answering in disgust: “A few of his scummy new friends. I don’t even know where he met them.”
Feng Qingyun wasn’t surprised. In both this life and the last, Mu Hanyang had always been fond of mingling with cultivators of questionable character, so there was no need to take it to heart.
“…So,” Bai Ruolin clearly didn’t care about those other people either. After brushing past the topic, she immediately returned to her earlier curiosity, asking: “Brother, you and Master… what’s going on?”
However, Feng Qingyun still had a grim suspicion in his heart and didn’t know how to tell her the truth. Since it was Bai Ruolin’s first time entering a relic, she likely assumed it was merely a lingering remnant of their Master, a projection left behind before she ascended, just like the ones in ancient legends. Though her Master’s shadow seemed to only recognize her Senior Brother, that wasn’t really important. After all, it wasn’t Master’s soul, but just a wisp of her divine consciousness and nothing more. She could acknowledge whomever she wanted.
So when Feng Qingyun didn’t answer, she didn’t take offense. In fact, she couldn’t help but keep glancing at him, blurting out in admiration: “Brother Qingyun, you look so beautiful like this! Honestly, you’re one of the top three prettiest girls I’ve ever seen! That Mu guy really is blind! …Though it’s kind of a waste on him.”
As she spoke, she couldn’t resist reaching out to touch Feng Qingyun’s face, only to find that the sensation of her hand didn’t match the visual illusion at all. In the end, her eyes widened as she exclaimed, “I thought you’d actually turned into a woman! So it is an illusion!”
Feng Qingyun couldn’t help laughing, the earlier melancholy in his chest easing a little. He raised his brow and teased: “I thought I was the best-looking one in your heart? How come I’m the third one now? Who else have you seen that’s prettier?”
“I…” Bai Ruolin choked a little, then muttered under her breath: “Senior Brother, you’ve gotten shameless, just like him.”
“Don’t go learning bad habits from those demonic servants in the Palace,” Feng Qingyun flicked her nose with a finger. “Do you even know what respect means?”
“…I know, I know. I should call him Senior,” Bai Ruolin said, sticking out her tongue. Then, unable to hold back, she added softly: “You really love him, don’t you?”
Feng Qingyun paused.
Bai Ruolin thought she’d gone too far, that he’d get embarrassed or angry. She even braced herself to flee if he exploded. But Feng Qingyun didn’t get angry. Instead, as if recalling something, he lowered his eyes and said a little despondently: “…Not enough.”
Bai Ruolin’s eyes widened. For a moment, she thought she’d misheard. “What…?!”
“Nothing.” Feng Qingyun quickly shook his head and composed himself. He was just about to lead her outside when a commotion arose beyond the door.
The two exchanged a glance and stepped outside, only to see a young cultivator in red robes arguing with a demonic cultivator.
“This place was discovered first by my brother and me! Please find another spot, fellow Cultivator,” the red-robed youth said politely.
“Why’re you being so polite to a demon?!” his companion snapped. “You’d better scram, or this Master will draw his sword!”
However, the demonic cultivator across from them sneered as he answered in a very relaxed voice: “The relic hasn’t opened yet. What are you, a dog? You think pissing here makes this spot yours?”
The two cultivators immediately flared up, ready to draw their swords.
At first glance, it seemed like just another petty turf dispute. But when Feng Qingyun looked closely at the two arguing cultivators, a flicker of surprise crossed his face…
Those two were the very same people Mu Hanyang had brought back to the Xiān Gōng Sect in their past life. The more aggressive one, in fact, was Qi Jiang, the man who had once tried to take a fox girl by force, only to end up trapped in a fox dream by the Fox Patriarch himself.
As for the red-robed teenager who had spoken more politely, he was none other than Lian Ziqing, the same one who had once suffered internal injuries in the Demon World and was only saved by a section of Feng Qingyun’s vine.
Bai Ruolin, unaware of the events from their previous life, simply curled her lip at the scene and whispered to Feng Qingyun: “Those two are the scummy friends Mu Hanyang brought with him this time.”
She didn’t even bother using sound transmission in front of them, and clearly had no intention of associating herself with them. Though the two didn’t hear what she said, the demonic cultivator across from them did, and he looked over with suspicion. The two men followed his gaze and spotted them as well.
Of the remaining group, aside from Feng Qingyun, Bai Ruolin’s strength was among the highest. The moment the two cultivators saw her, their eyes lit up. The demonic cultivator, on the other hand, tensed up noticeably.
Lian Ziqing immediately crossed the courtyard without sparing Zhong Yulan so much as a glance, taking her for nothing more than a butcher conjured by the illusion. He even stepped directly over the grinding stone she was using as he beamed with delight, calling out: “Cultivator Bai!”
Though Zhong Yulan was indeed just an illusion and Lian Ziqing hadn’t physically touched her, Bai Ruolin’s face still darkened the moment she saw him ignore her Master. After a pause, she forced out: “…Please step aside.”
“She’s just an illusion,” sneered Cultivator Qi, who followed behind. “Miss Bai really is soft-hearted, such a tender girl, ah…”
Hearing his gross tone, Bai Ruolin’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head. Since Mu Hanyang wasn’t around, there was no need for her to bother with pleasantries, so she asked, “Who are you calling a girl? Based on cultivation level alone, you should be addressing me as Senior! If I weren’t being generous, that comment alone would’ve cost you your dog life.”
At her words, the expressions of Cultivator Qi and Lian Ziqing turned stiff. The demonic cultivator, however, who had previously been somewhat wary of Bai Ruolin, couldn’t help but laugh aloud.
Qi Jiang didn’t dare openly defy her, so he simply turned and glared murderously at the demonic cultivator.
As for Bai Ruolin, done with the drama, she rolled her eyes and walked off to investigate the courtyard layout, trying to determine whether anything in the area warranted further attention. Once she was gone, the demonic cultivator gained some courage and mocked: “Calling you dogs was apparently too fitting! Too bad you’re barking up the wrong tree!”
Qi Jiang instantly exploded: “You say what…?!”
But before he could finish, Feng Qingyun walked out of the house.
Qi Jiang caught sight of him and froze completely, his tongue caught mid-word, as if struck dumb by some overwhelming beauty.
Zhong Yulan, who had acted as if she couldn’t see anyone else until now, immediately turned toward Feng Qingyun and said, “Ah Yu, what are you doing out here? There’s too much blood in the air. Go wait inside, I’ll be done cooking soon.”
Lian Ziqing’s heart gave a sudden jolt when he heard that name, thinking of one Miss Yu. For some reason, it stirred a strange sense of familiarity deep within him. But Cultivator Qi just stood there dumbstruck, gazing at Feng Qingyun as if transfixed. So her name is Ah Yu… such a beautiful woman… what a pity she’s only an illusion.
Though Feng Qingyun was already in the later stages of Foundation Building, among those present, only Bai Ruolin and the demonic cultivator had the faintest sense of his unfathomable power. With Bai Ruolin having walked away, only the demonic cultivator reacted, his face draining of color. In a second, cold sweat started beading at his temples as he instinctively backed away several steps, clearly looking for a chance to escape.
But there were always fools who ignored danger.
Qi Jiang, who had once tried to force a weak girl in his past life, remained just as reckless now. Forgetting even the earlier insults from the demonic cultivator, he walked toward the ethereal figure he saw as a goddess incarnate.
As for Feng Qingyun, he had never encountered someone so brash and presumptuous before, so he was caught off guard and didn’t react at first. But the demonic cultivator, the only sane one among the trio, stared at Qi Jiang with wide eyes, as if he were already seeing his corpse.
Qi Jiang, misinterpreting Feng Qingyun’s silence as further proof she was but an illusion, actually reached out to touch his face, murmuring: “Ah Yu…”
Lian Ziqing, clearly used to his companion’s nasty behavior, pretended not to notice and looked away. But Cultivator Qi, who believed his hand would simply pass through the image, froze in surprise when he felt actual contact. His eyes widened, since what he felt clearly wasn’t the soft, delicate skin of the many women he’d touched before. Instead, beneath the surface of the illusion, his hand came into contact with a striking sharpness, refined and subtly powerful.
Bai Ruolin, having just rounded the house, caught sight of his behaviour and was stunned. Feeling like her eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, she raised her hand in midair and shouted: “What the hell are you…?!”
But before she could finish, a flash of cold steel crossed in front of her, accompanied by a spray of blood.
No one had time to react before Qi Jiang’s right arm was severed at the shoulder as blood splattered across Feng Qingyun’s cheek. And yet, his face remained utterly calm, the crimson stark against his serene expression painting the image of a haunting, otherworldly beauty.
Qi Jiang collapsed to the ground, clutching his shoulder and screaming in agony. But Feng Qingyun only looked down at him, his eyes cold and devoid of pity as he shifted his gaze upward.
Lian Ziqing, both shocked and furious, turned to yell, only to freeze as soon as he saw who had struck. As for the poor demonic cultivator, who had been trying to make himself invisible in the back of the crowd, he now looked like he wanted nothing more than to go back in time and slap himself across the face for deciding that coming here was a good idea!
Only Bai Ruolin had an odd, unreadable look in her eyes as she glanced between the newcomer and the bloody mess at Feng Qingyun’s feet.
At that moment, Zhong Yulan finished sharpening her knife and, without pause, she raised it and plunged it into a pig’s neck. The pig’s screams rang out, blending eerily with the human shrieks still echoing nearby.
But while the pig quickly went silent… The human screams did not.
The absurdity of it all made the atmosphere feel almost… comical.
Then, Zhong Yulan, who was only able to see Feng Qingyun, wiped her brow, looked up at the newcomer, and asked with a puzzled frown: “And who might you be, young man?”
The man smiled.
Under the stunned stares of everyone present, he sheathed the sword that no one knew where it came from, walked up to Feng Qingyun and, with zero regard for the injured man at his feet, pulled his lover into his arms, patted his shoulder, and smiled a perfect smile.
“Don’t recognize me, Mother-in-law?” he asked.
“I’m your son-in-law.”
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