The soft flesh of his thigh had grown chilled from being exposed to the air for too long, so only the patch pressed against Long Yin’s cheek still carried the faint warmth of his skin. It felt like some naturally cold spirit or demon had been heated by a mortal’s body heat in a strange, ambiguous intimacy.
Long Yin didn’t even need to use his demonic Qi. Just one glance, and he knew exactly what state Feng Qingyun was in…
The one controlling his body now was the rumored earthly soul,said to govern all things dark.
It was said that after death, all beings crossed the Bridge of No Return, where their sins of a lifetime were weighed. And what was weighed was the earthly soul. And if the sins were heavy, the soul punished in hell… was also the earthly soul.
Whether the legend was true or not, it proved one thing.
A person’s negative emotions were almost entirely loaded onto the earthly soul.
And if that was the soul that seized the dominant seat, its manifestations would be the complete opposite of the heavenly soul, just as it was now.
Feng Qingyun licked the blood from the corner of his lips, looking down at Long Yin from above. He wore no inner garments, and his green robe had already slipped down to his elbows, his round, pale shoulders fully exposed to the air.
No matter the angle, he looked anything but proper.
Long Yin was completely stunned by the sudden onslaught of paradise. It took every shred of self-control, with blue veins popping, to stop himself from grabbing the man by the waist and flipping him underneath.
It was a true test of willpower.
His mind lagged a moment from the shock, and only after a long while did he remember he could use the Heavenly Dao’s authority to listen to the others’ thoughts. But unlike the heavenly soul earlier, where he could hear nothing, this time, the moment he invoked that authority, countless voices exploded inside his mind:
[Want to eat him.]
[Like him.]
[Eat him…]
[So hungry…]
The twisted affection in those murmurs made Long Yin’s scalp prickle, as an excitement far stronger than any direct seduction surged through him, hitting him like a lightning strike. But among all the mixed whispers, “love” was not the dominant emotion, but…
Anger.
[Why choose to abandon me?]
[Why be so selfless?]
[None of those things would’ve happened otherwise.]
[Otherwise…]
[Just eat him.]
Endless, extreme emotions, love, hate, hunger, bitterness, all tangled together in chaotic fragments. But that was only natural since the earthly soul was the vessel of all darkness, all resentment, all hatred. But no matter how violently the emotions churned within him, in the end, Feng Qingyun did not voice any of them.
He only stared at Long Yin without blinking, swallowed the last trace of blood on his lips, tilted his head, and asked: “You’re awake?”
But Long Yin couldn’t speak. Not that he could’ve, with his mouth stuffed full of roses. By logic, he should’ve been scared, or at least nervous, but instead, what surged in him was pure excitement. A sharp, overwhelming excitement that numbed his scalp.
Because Feng Qingyun wasn’t like him.
Feng Qingyun had no inner demons. So whether it was his heavenly soul, earthly soul, or human soul, each one was truly him. Different souls taking the lead simply meant different facets of his nature were shown.
Which meant…
Unlike Long Yin’s artificially magnified emotions, what Feng Qingyun displayed now was the most essential core of him.
He loved him so much, he hated him.
So furious he wanted to swallow Long Yin whole, so that Long Yin could never leave him again. That way, Long Yin would never be able to lie to him. Those were emotions he normally buried deeply, only surfacing when Long Yin pushed him too far, but never so raw, so direct as now.
In many strange tales, mortals fell in love with bewitching spirits for their beauty. But the moment they glimpsed the creature’s true nature, they’d be terrified out of their wits, crawling away on their knees, and never daring to recall the former tenderness.
But Long Yin was the opposite, as his entire being felt electrified. A sharp thrill shot up his spine, stronger than everything he’d felt combined, because…
Feng Qingyun’s deepest hate and deepest love were both born because of him.
Only because of him.
And that thought alone… even bound by vines with thorns sinking into his muscles, Long Yin could endure no more. Ignoring the barbs tearing at his skin, he reached up and grabbed the man’s waist. As for the vine, it was too slow to retract, but its thorns still stabbed deeper into Long Yin’s arm, with blood spilling instantly.
Feng Qingyun seemed genuinely startled by his “even if I bleed to death, I’ll still take advantage of you” recklessness and froze. And the next moment, Long Yin yanked him down sharply.
“You!”
Before he could finish, Long Yin suddenly bit down on one of the rose petals still covering his lips. And while Feng Qingyun trembled in his arms, Long Yin used his tongue to push the entire rosebud aside, then seized his thigh and bit deeply into the flesh.
“…?!”
Feng Qingyun inhaled sharply, his fingers digging into Long Yin’s shoulder. Instinctively, he tried to lift his other knee to kick him, but Long Yin caught it without hesitation. And in an instant, their positions reversed.
Feng Qingyun was thrown off balance, completely stunned, but when he finally recovered, he was furious, ready to glare up and tear Long Yin apart. However, as soon as he raised his head, his eyes met Long Yin’s blood-streaked abdomen, and he went completely still.
Blood trickled all the way from Long Yin’s shoulders, down the defined lines of his muscles, pooling along the ridges of his abdomen and sharply outlining every perfect line.
And just like that, Feng Qingyun’s eyes glazed over as he stared at him, unable to move, unable to think.
The blood of the Heavenly Dao that had nourished him for a hundred years. Even if his mind didn’t remember, his body did. Not to mention that in this lifetime, he’d already tasted it.
The earthly soul governed instinct. And all that blood… lying in the grooves of abdominal muscle like jeweled nectar on a jade tray…
Feng Qingyun swallowed.
As for the Heavenly Dao, now bleeding and debauched, seeing his seduction finally have effect, he couldn’t help curling his lips. Lifting a hand, Long Yin pinched Feng Qingyun’s chin and tilted it upward.
A drop of blood slid down, landing on Feng Qingyun’s lips, and he licked it instinctively, the taste exploding across his tongue and sweeping away the last of his reason.
Before Long Yin could even coax him, Feng Qingyun already leaned forward, robe slipping off his shoulder, as he lowered his head to lick the blood from Long Yin’s abdomen. The red tip of his tongue dragged across the man’s muscles, soft like a kitten’s lick, yet carrying a desperate eagerness.
He didn’t even seem aware of how seductive he looked. His expression carried no lust at all, only the pure, instinctive pleasure of tasting food, and yet, the innocence of it still made Long Yin’s throat tighten.
His hand reached for Feng Qingyun’s nape on its own. Interrupted mid-meal, the Little Rose frowned faintly, swallowed the blood in his mouth, and looked up unhappily.
But from that angle, it didn’t look like he was drinking blood at all.
Instead, it looked like he was doing something else entirely.
Long Yin almost went mad with desire. For a moment, he nearly pushed the man’s head down to teach him exactly what that expression would earn, but the illusion’s purpose was precisely to make one lose themselves, to forget their true heart.
So Long Yin forcibly clenched his teeth, fighting for a long moment to steady himself, until he finally managed to ask the question weighing on him:
“…Where has the Little Palace Master locked this Lord?”
Around them was nothing but endless white stretching to infinity, filled with nothing but roses and the Feng Qingyun kneeling before him. However, Feng Qingyun didn’t answer. Instead, he ran his fingers through his loose strands of hair, then lowered his head again to lap at the blood near Long Yin’s hipbone.
Only when Long Yin’s breath grew unsteady did he finally lift his gaze slightly, saying lightly: “Why are you asking that?”
But Long Yin hadn’t even answered when Feng Qingyun’s expression darkened as he narrowed his eyes, throwing out a bombshell:
“Is it that you dislike this place… or that you dislike me?”
Even with ten heads, Long Yin never could’ve imagined he would one day be interrogated like that by his lover. He almost laughed… or cried, saying: “Little Palace Master, that question truly wounds this Lord.” With that, he pulled the man into his arms and lowered his head to kiss him, only to have roses block his way once more, so he settled for murmuring against the petals: “Has this Lord’s heart toward you not been clear as Heaven and Earth?”
Feng Qingyun gently cupped his face, but the gesture felt less like affection and more like a threat.
“Then why ask where you are?” he said. “Are you searching for a way to leave me?”
Clearly, there was no reasoning with Feng Qingyun under the earthly soul’s influence. He acted on pure instinct and desire, with not a trace of logic left. A bit of coaxing might’ve solved everything… if only Long Yin had just chosen softness.
However, the Demon Emperor was contrary by nature. The softer someone was, the more he held back, and the fiercer someone was, the more he wanted to poke them.
“So if this Lord truly did want to leave,” Long Yin asked lazily, “what would the Little Palace Master do?”
“Would you truly tear out my tendons and bones, and swallow me whole?”
But upon hearing that, Feng Qingyun’s breath paused as he lowered his gaze, silent for a long time. Long Yin regretted it instantly, pulling him close and hurriedly soothing: “I’m teasing you. Even if my Little Rose locks me away until the end of time, I am willing.”
Blood was still dripping from his shoulder, and he looked almost pitiful in his attempt to coax his spouse.
“You really want to leave.”
Feng Qingyun didn’t even look at him as he leaned in, voice soft and distant. “…But there was a time when you raised me and promised to stay with me forever.”
Long Yin froze.
“…What?” The words hit him harder than any blow, but Feng Qingyun didn’t offer any explanation. Instead, a vine wrapped around Long Yin’s neck, forcing him to lift his head. From up close, Feng Qingyun’s voice came as a whisper: “You promised to wait until I sprouted. So why… why did you throw me to someone else?” He brushed Long Yin’s throat lightly. “What a selfless Heavenly Dao you are.”
Normally, Long Yin would’ve been thrilled beyond measure, but now, his mind nearly exploded.
“Wait, Qingyun, please clarify… what do you mean by ‘raise you’?!”
“…You really don’t remember.” Feng Qingyun’s eyes lowered, dark emotions gathering like a storm. Then he drew a conclusion that made Long Yin go utterly blank.
“You truly didn’t want me anymore, so you simply tossed me away.”
Long Yin: “…”
!!!
He had just been struck by an earth-shattering revelation he hadn’t even processed yet, and before he could think it through, he was suddenly being blamed for something out of nowhere! Long Yin had never felt more wronged in his life! He had yet to leave the illusion; his heart demons were still scattered across time and space, but unlike Feng Qingyun, his mind wasn’t pure enough to allow his three souls to split cleanly ether!
So his memories were still incomplete, ah!
Long Yin only vaguely knew from Zhong Yulan that he had probably been dismembered upon death in ancient times, but he had no idea that, in truth, he had been torn apart while still conscious, and in the end, self-detonated. Therefore, his three souls and seven spirits were so much more shattered than mere dismemberment!
So even after tens of thousands of years recovering in the illusory world as the dragon God, he still carried the lingering instability of his broken soul.
Which meant…
He really didn’t know what the other heart demons had said to Feng Qingyun!
But now, seeing Feng Qingyun’s aura darkening to a dangerous extreme, Long Yin couldn’t afford to think further, so he immediately raised his hands in surrender, quickly saying: “…I’ve been wronged, Qingyun! I truly don’t know anything! But even if I had ten thousand hands, I would never, ever, throw you away!”
Feng Qingyun only scoffed coldly at that, clearly not believing a word. Long Yin’s heart sank so sharply he wondered if he was the one misremembering.
Could he really have thrown Feng Qingyun away at some point?!
Impossible!
Whether as the dragon God or in his previous life, he would never have done such a thing, so he tried to take a shortcut, to read Feng Qingyun’s heart, but the earthly soul was the opposite of the heavenly one.
His thoughts were chaotic, tangled, and impossible to decipher.
Long Yin’s heart hammered wildly as he tried to think, but just as his expression flickered with hesitation, Feng Qingyun’s face turned completely dark, tightening the vines in his hand and looking ready to drive the thorns in deeper.
In that split second, a frightening yet suddenly illuminating thought flashed across Long Yin’s mind, and he blurted: “Wait, wait, wait! I remember!”
Feng Qingyun paused, lowered his gaze, and asked coldly: “What did you remember?”
Long Yin caught his wrist, cautiously searching his expression, and spoke carefully: “I didn’t get to see you sprout… I’m truly sorry, Little Rose.”
With that, Feng Qingyun visibly froze, and Long Yin instantly knew he had guessed right. Relief washed through him, and beneath it rose a slow, indescribable sweetness like a stolen taste of honey, spreading through his chest.
So from beginning to end, he had always been mine.
His lips lifted involuntarily, but Feng Qingyun, seeing that smile, snapped back, his face turning dark. Yanking Long Yin forward with the vine, he asked in a dangerously low voice:
“…What are you smiling for?!”
“My little ancestor,” Long Yin blinked, still holding him. “What did I do now? Does smiling violate Heavenly Law?”
Feng Qingyun frowned at him, but sorrow swelled so thick in his eyes it couldn’t be hidden. “Aren’t you sad?” he asked.
Long Yin froze and understood.
You didn’t get to raise me.
You didn’t get to be there first.
Someone else did.
Doesn’t that hurt you?
And yet, you’re smiling?
Long Yin’s chest twisted painfully, and it took him a long moment before the ache rose fully. Internally, he whispered: Of course, I’m happy. I searched the Heavens and Earth for you, and it wasn’t in vain. It wasn’t that you rejected me. You only forgot.
And even more… At least, when I was dying, I didn’t drag you down.
At least I didn’t pull you into the illusion to suffer tens of thousands of years with me.
A thousand thoughts surged, but if he said any of that, his Little Rose would only get angry again. So he said nothing, only holding Feng Qingyun tighter and whispering: “…I’m sorry, Little Rose.”
“What are you sorry for?” Feng Qingyun’s voice trembled.
“I’m sorry that, in a moment of crisis…” Long Yin swallowed and said cautiously, “I threw you out instead of finding you a truly good person to…”
“Shut up!”
Feng Qingyun exploded with fury. Before Long Yin finished, Feng Qingyun already lifted a hand, ready to slap him, so Long Yin instantly shut his mouth.
However, halfway up, Feng Qingyun froze as if remembering something, and his hand halted in midair. Then, in a sudden move, he reached up and plucked off his own rosebuds.
“…!”
Long Yin’s eyes flew open wide, his heart clenching violently with pain. Before he could speak, Feng Qingyun shoved the rosebud directly into his mouth. And then the vines surged, burying him beneath countless roses, and suffocating him in a blinding sea of petals.
This time, however, Long Yin lay absolutely still. He would rather drown than say one more wrong word, terrified that Feng Qingyun would pluck another flower from himself. And through the cascading roses, Feng Qingyun stared at him, tears hanging in his eyes and anger trembling in every breath.
But beneath the fury was a deep, raw hurt.
Not hurt because Long Yin didn’t value him, but because Long Yin valued him too much.
So much so that even something like plucking a flower bud made him freeze in distress, yet Long Yin had never considered that for Feng Qingyun, there were far more painful things. He simply never realized…
All of Long Yin’s regrets, bitterness, and pain were not because of that Feng Qingyun.
They were because of the Feng Qingyun of their past life.
He regretted not finding a good person for his Little Rose, but never regretted failing to forcefully claim him sooner. Then what if, Feng Qingyun couldn’t help but wonder,
What if I really met someone the world called “good”?
Would you truly be so selfless?
Would you really accept it?
If Feng Qingyun had never regretted choosing Mu Hanyang, if he had lived happily, would none of it have happened?
No next life? No today?
Would he never find out there had been someone who raised him for a hundred years, just like that lotus hairpin he never got to see?
But why?
Why should Long Yin simply accept it?!
Why should he endure tens of thousands of years in pain and solitude, after being skinned and torn apart, only to watch, watch the one he loved stand happily beside someone else?!
Feng Qingyun could not understand.
The Heavenly Dao truly was the most selfless thing in existence.
And because Long Yin was born of “great love,” he truly believed selflessness was the right path. But the more he was like that, the more a violent, indescribable hatred rose in Feng Qingyun’s chest.
Hatred he didn’t even know who to direct it at.
Hatred so sharp, so all-consuming, it cut through all thought. And Long Yin heard it clearly:
[I would rather have endured ten thousand years of storms beside you in the illusory world! I would rather be nailed with you to a stone pillar! I would rather anything than be handed over to someone else’s care, to enjoy a false peace rooted in your suffering!]
[But you’re always like this. Always giving me what others think is “good,” never thinking that while you suffered, I was comfortable and ignorant, only to learn the truth later, and feel my heart being torn apart!]
[I hate you so much, Long Yin!]
Long Yin went still as the tidal wave of emotion crashed over him, drowning his thoughts. But Feng Qingyun said not a single word aloud, only glaring at him through tears, and breaking Long Yin’s heart.
In the end, Long Yin closed his eyes, held him tightly, and breathed out:“…This Lord understands.”
“What do you understand?!” Feng Qingyun frowned through tears.
“When we leave this illusion,” Long Yin said softly, “this Lord will lay everything bare for you… including the ascension method, the one where no one dies.”
Feng Qingyun’s pupils shrank. The truth was before him, but even under the influence of his earthly soul, he still hesitated to face it.
After a long time, he whispered: “…No one dies… Not even you?”
“That depends on the Little Palace Master,” Long Yin smiled faintly. “If you love this Lord so deeply… how dare I die alone? Wouldn’t that leave my Little Rose a widow?”
Feng Qingyun wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not, but his heart still leaned toward believing. His mouth, however, was as cold as ever, asking: “…What guarantee do you have?”
“This Lord is the Heavenly Dao,” Long Yin raised a brow. “Is that not guarantee enough?” He then lifted his hand, continuing: “Or shall I swear upon my life…”
“Shut your mouth if you can’t speak properly!” Feng Qingyun threw himself forward, covering his mouth with trembling fingers. Tears gathered in his eyes as he gritted out: “I hate you! I hate you so much, you self-important Heavenly Dao bastard!”
Long Yin, however, smiled beneath his hand, whispering: “But I love you.”
Rarely did Long Yin speak so directly, and it struck right at the heart. “From even before you remembered me, this Lord already loved you.”
The force of that sentence stunned Feng Qingyun into silence. For a moment, it felt like a wish ten thousand years old had finally come true. Even the instinctive fury of the earthly soul was nearly soothed away, but Long Yin, perfectly on cue, chose that moment to act up again.
He pulled Feng Qingyun’s wrist aside, leaned in, and tried to steal a kiss, saying: “Yet here is this Lord, his heart sincere as the bright moon, but the Little Palace Master’s moon shines straight on a ditch! You even doubt my feelings. This Lord is truly wronged.”
“Nonsense! You didn’t have feelings for me that early.” Feng Qingyun snapped, turning his head away with red ears.“And what kind of Heavenly Dao is as perverted as you?! Falling in love with a seed?!”
“Yes, yes, this Lord was originally a lecherous bastard,” Long Yin, delighted, became even more shameless. “And now I’m a pervert too, only our honorable Sword Master is pure and aloof.” As he spoke, he guided Feng Qingyun’s hand onto his own abdomen, continuing: “Even though you stripped this Lord bare and tied me up here, biting and licking everywhere, you still remained pure as the clear moon and gentle as the breeze…”
Feng Qingyun was so mortified by him that anger and shame surged at once, screaming: “…Shut up!”
But Long Yin, as righteous and unashamed as ever, leaned in to demand affection. “Kiss me once, and I’ll shut up.”
Feng Qingyun’s lashes trembled as he glared at him, fury filling his eyes:“…Do you even recognize me?! On what basis should I casually kiss you?”
“The earthly soul is straightforward and honest,” Long Yin lowered his voice and pressed his forehead to his, continuing: “I like you too much. How could I not recognize you?”
However, Feng Qingyun stared at him for three seconds, then suddenly threw out a question without warning:
“Is that so? Then, do you like my heavenly soul or my earthly soul more?”
Long Yin: “…”
It was an absolutely death sentence of a question, instantly rendering the dignified Heavenly Dao speechless. And seeing him looking that stupid, Feng Qingyun seemed to finally regain the upper hand. Unable to stop the corner of his lips from lifting, he tightened his grip on Long Yin’s neck and yanked him down.
“I was teasing you. Look at how nervous you are, some Heavenly Dao you are, huh. I’m not like you, so fickle.” With his arm hooked around Long Yin’s neck, Feng Qingyun lowered his gaze, saying dominantly and as if it were only natural: “All three souls and seven spirits are me. You have no other choice but to like it.”
Fickle…
That was probably the first time since the Heavenly Dao took human form that anyone had called him fickle.
And Long Yin actually had no rebuttal.
For a moment, he was utterly speechless, then suddenly stiffened. In their relationship, wasn’t it precisely because he was fickle that he hesitated again and again, and gave up again and again?!
Every word Feng Qingyun scolded him with was correct!
He truly was an inconsistent coward who did not dare face failure, so he could only give up first.
Seeing that he hadn’t spoken for a long time, Feng Qingyun seemed to guess what he was thinking, so he immediately frowned and snapped at him: “Are you even listening to me?!”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Long Yin jolted back to himself and quickly answered, but Feng Qingyun looked at him with a dangerous expression, continuing, “You’ll still dare in the future?”
He didn’t specify what, but Long Yin understood instantly, so he immediately pulled him close and promised, “Since the great Sword Master Feng is asking for it… How would I dare be fickle again?”
Feng Qingyun narrowed his eyes slightly, clearly unconvinced.
“I really won’t,” Long Yin said at once. “I swear in front of my Little Rose.”
Feng Qingyun pressed his lips together. After staring at him for three seconds, he suddenly leaned in and kissed him, then said irritably: “Remember what you said! When we get out, tell the truth! Don’t forget!”
Long Yin held him tighter. “The great Sword Master Feng is magnanimous,” he said. “Seeing how sensible this Lord is, could you be lenient?”
“In your dreams,” Feng Qingyun snorted coldly. “Your punishment won’t be missing in a single thing.”
Long Yin was about to say something else to fight for leniency, but the person in his arms wrapped one arm tightly around his neck and covered his mouth with the other, not letting him speak. And before Long Yin could react, the next moment, Feng Qingyun, while staring unblinkingly at him, began to dissolve in his arms like foam.
The illusion shattered.
Before disappearing, the carpet of roses brushed intimately across Long Yin’s bare skin, as if they truly liked him terribly much.
Long Yin couldn’t help but stiffen, then he slowly lifted his eyes to the fragmented illusion around him. With the earthly soul returned, only the mortal one remained.
It was said that the mortal soul represented thought and rationality. When guided by it, all positive and negative emotions were insufficient to influence one’s judgment of self-interest.
That would be a Feng Qingyun stripped entirely of emotional interference.
Long Yin honestly couldn’t help wanting to see what his Little Rose would do in such extreme rationality, but the moment the thought arose and before he could even give it shape, the illusion flashed once, and a new world unfolded.
………………….
When Long Yin opened his eyes, he came face to face with a pair of dragon-phoenix wedding candles, their wax dripping in thick red trails that gleamed like blood in the candlelight, running down the table and onto the floor.
Long Yin stared at the sheen beneath the table for a moment and then realized it wasn’t wax at all, but…
Real blood.
He immediately looked up, only to see that beneath the boundless festive red decorations stood a familiar figure holding a sword, back toward him. Dressed in a snow-white sword cultivator robe, he clashed sharply with the joyous scene around him.
And beneath his sword, someone lay in a pool of blood.
Long Yin lowered his gaze and saw that it was Mu Hanyang, dressed in wedding robes and dead beyond dead. As if sensing his gaze, Feng Qingyun turned slightly with a splatter of fresh blood still on his cheek, looking at Long Yin with boundless coldness.
Long Yin’s throat tightened. The next moment, Feng Qingyun lifted his sword and walked toward him.
For one instant, he truly thought his Little Rose had already grown so hateful from love that he intended to kill him to vent his heart’s hatred. But in the end, Feng Qingyun stopped in front of him and did not strike.
The moon over the Xiān Gōng Sect had always been beautiful. A young servant outside the residence vaguely heard something and looked up just in time to see the dragon-phoenix candles flicker behind the window as two shadows leaned together.
The servant let out a long breath, thinking it was simply Lord Mu and his new bride engaging in dual cultivating. Nothing to look at, and best not to offend propriety.
Inside the bedchamber, however, amid the blood staining the floor, the dragon-phoenix candles wavered in the night along the soft creak of the bed. After an unknown stretch of time, they finally went out.
And seven days later, the world was shaken.
“Have you heard? That Xiān Gōng Sect’s Palace Lord, Mu Hanyang, actually died on the night of his wedding with his Junior Brother!”
“It must be Feng Qingyun killing his spouse to ascend!”
“Shhh! Don’t say nonsense! The Xiān Gōng Sect clearly announced Lord Mu suffered from Qi deviation during his wedding night and exploded!”
“How could the leader of the Righteous Path die from Qi deviation?! Feng Qingyun, that demon, can’t even be bothered to pretend! Does the Xiān Gōng Sect have no one who dares oppose him?!”
“Sigh… Lord Mu is dead. Someone has to rule the Xiān Gōng Sect. Miss Bai was raised by Feng Qingyun, so of course, he controls everything now. Who dares speak?”
With that, those who had been indignant on Mu Hanyang’s behalf fell silent.
Indeed.
Mu Hanyang was dead, and Bai Ruolin remained silent.
Whether on internal Palace affairs or the frictions between cultivators of their level, outsiders simply had no right to interfere. But on the seventh day after Mu Hanyang’s death, countless cultivators still arrived to offer condolences.
They found the entire Xiān Gōng Sect draped in mourning white.
Everyone wore grief on their faces, and Mu Hanyang’s direct disciples had red-rimmed eyes, appearing utterly devastated. Many visitors had never seen the Xiān Gōng Sect look so solemn, so they were secretly shaken, but even with countless suspicions in their hearts, they did not dare utter a single word.
The Main Hall had been turned into a mourning place, and late at night, rows of disciples knelt outside. Liu Wu knelt at the front, his eyes red. Seeing how late it had grown, he wiped his tears and said to Hua Ying, “It’s late. You’ve kept vigil all day. Go rest and cultivate. Martial Mother and I will remain here to receive Master when he returns1.”
Hua Ying swayed unsteadily and rubbed her reddened eyes. Noticing Feng Qingyun’s absence, she couldn’t help but ask: “…Where is Martial Mother2?”
Another disciple said, “…I just saw Lord Feng enter the Main Hall.”
Hearing that, Liu Wu’s expression held a trace of sorrow. “Master and Martial Mother were deeply devoted to each other. To suffer such a sudden blow, he must be even more grief-stricken than we are.”
But Hua Ying felt only growing unease. After hesitating again and again, she whispered: “Senior Brother… but I keep feeling that Master’s death…”
Liu Wu seemed to know exactly what she wanted to say, and his expression changed instantly. “Martial Mother’s grief is plain for all to see! Do not speak recklessly!”
“…Yes.” Hua Ying lowered her eyes. “Junior Sister misspoke.”
“Go back and cultivate.” Liu Wu flicked his sleeve. “I will stay here to look over Martial Mother.”
Hua Ying left with lingering unease. Only when she returned to her quarters did she realize what had felt wrong.
He didn’t say “look over Master” but…
“Look over Martial Mother.”
Outside the Main Hall, everything remained quiet enough to hear a pin drop. The breeze stirred, and disciples kept their vigil in silence, but Liu Wu couldn’t calm himself. After a moment, with unease gnawing at him, he slipped a hand into his storage ring and took out the pearl he’d found among his Master’s belongings. Then, he quietly approached the Main Hall.
The main doors, normally sealed tight, now had a small gap.
His heart leapt. He approached cautiously, and sure enough, from within came soft, faint sounds… mixed with sticky, ambiguous wet noises.
Liu Wu’s eyes flew wide.
Ignoring everything else, he immediately leaned forward to peer through the gap.
Offerings were scattered across the floor. And his Martial Mother, the cold and aloof Lingshuang Sword Master, who had grown even more silent after losing his Dao companion, was at this moment… leaning back against the offering platform meant for his newly deceased husband, draped in snowy white robes, with his bare feet stepping on a man’s shoulder.
The man held his pale thighs, his face buried between them, doing who-knew-what.
From Liu Wu’s angle, he saw Feng Qingyun suddenly tremble, then bite down on the back of his hand, lowering his gaze. Looking at the man kneeling submissively before him, he finally ground out in a strained, cold voice: “Are you a dog?!”
“Bite me randomly again, and I’ll throw you out!”
- According to traditional Chinese beliefs, the soul of the deceased lingers for seven days after passing before departing for the afterlife. On the seventh day, it is believed that the spirit of the deceased returns to the family home to bid a final farewell, so they are now waiting for Mu Hanyang’s soul to come back. ↩︎
- They’re referring to Feng Qingyun as “Shiniang” here, meaning Martial Mother/wife of your martial teacher, who is also a martial teacher themselves. So, inside the sect, as in all cultivation novels, the disciples use titles to refer to people who are above themselves in both status and level of cultivation. Mu Hanyang and Zhong Yulan are called “Shizun” as in “Revered Master”, Feng Qingyun was called “Shishu” before, as in “Martial Uncle”, and “Shiniang” now, as in Martial Mother, since he became Mu Hanyang’s “wife”. Bai Ruolin is “Shigu”, as in “Martial Aunt”. Because the majority of this novel’s plot does not happen inside a cultivation sect, I did not feel it was instrumental to the story to leave the titles as they were in Chinese, so, throughout the novel, where these titles seldomly appeared, I have used the translated versions of Master, Martial Uncle, and Martial Aunt, Senior/Junior Brother, etc. instead. Now it indeed feels a bit weird to call Feng Qingyun “Martial Mother”, but I’ll keep on using the translated version for consistency as this tile only appears for the next couple of chapters. ↩︎
Leave a Reply