"System, system, come out! Let's settle this one-on-one! Aren't you supposed to be artificial intelligence? The pinnacle of high-dimensional technology? Then go find the male lead for me!"
The system ignored her completely.
Yu Zhiling rolled back and forth on the bed, frustrated, throwing a flurry of punches at the air.
After falling from the second floor of Zui Ting Pavilion, Mo Zhu seemed to have been struck by some sudden impulse. He pushed her away and left the pavilion in a hurry. By the time Yu Zhiling regained her senses, he had already vanished. She chased back to the inn, only to find he hadn’t returned at all.
Worse yet, he had severed their disciple jade contract with a single-handed seal, cutting off all connection. Now, Yu Zhiling couldn’t locate him—or rather, he didn’t want to be found.
Outside, the wind howled fiercely, rustling the leaves and battering against the thin lattice windows like the wails of vengeful spirits.
Yu Zhiling frowned, sitting up abruptly from the bed. Pouting, she muttered, "It’s about to rain. Who cares about you? I’ve already got the Immortal Wood Sprout. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the Zhongli Family myself to retrieve it."
The wind grew even louder. A thunderclap split the dark sky, followed by a torrential downpour.
The raindrops pounded against the windows, sharp and relentless, unsettling to the ears.
Yu Zhiling clenched her fists, her delicate brows furrowing deeper.
She wouldn’t go looking for him. He knew how to cast a rain-repelling spell anyway.
But the storm only intensified.
Her frown deepened.
What if… what if that stubborn fool refused to use the spell? Earlier, he’d even acted as her cushion when she fell. Mo Zhu was clearly the type to disregard his own life. What if he was still in that rebellious phase where getting drenched seemed cool?
Fifteen minutes later.
"…Ugh, you little brat! Can’t you give your master a moment’s peace?"
Yu Zhiling got up and stormed out.
The moment she yanked the door open, she was met with a pair of cold, indifferent eyes.
The entire tenth floor housed only the two of them. Mo Zhu stood tall in the corridor, motionless—how long had he been there?
Her first glance took in his expressionless, coffin-like face. The second landed on his robes.
She stepped forward, reaching out to touch his shoulder while grumbling, "You came back early, didn’t you? Didn’t get caught in the rain, right? It’s pouring out there. Why did you run off like that? Scared me half to death—I was about to go searching for you!"
His clothes were dry. Yu Zhiling exhaled in relief. "Good, you didn’t get wet."
Her worry wasn’t feigned—at least, not in Mo Zhu’s eyes.
Though his room was right next door, he hadn’t entered. Instead, he’d stopped outside hers, staring at the faint candlelight glowing through the window screen.
Now, it was clear—she hadn’t slept.
Because he hadn’t returned.
Mo Zhu lowered his gaze as Yu Zhiling stood before him, brushing a leaf from his shoulder—a remnant from his earlier trip to the woods.
"Master."
"Hmm?" Yu Zhiling looked up. "What is it?"
He had called her, but faced with her clueless expression, he found himself at a loss for words.
He stared at her for a long, long time.
So long that Yu Zhiling frowned and reached up to feel his forehead. "Are you sick? What’s wrong?"
Only then did Mo Zhu snap out of it, turning his face away. "It’s nothing. You should rest. Tomorrow, you’ll need to preside over the opening ceremony of the Spirit Music Banquet."
With that, he stepped past her, entered his room, and shut the door. Yu Zhiling stood there, staring at the closed door, utterly exasperated.
That little brat! Always leaving her behind!
She shouldn’t have bothered worrying. She should’ve let him fend for himself out there—go wherever he pleased!
Fuming, she stomped back into her room, determined to sleep and never mind him again!
On the other side of the wall, Mo Zhu stood in the darkness, his hands clenched into fists.
He couldn’t calm down. He was acutely aware that his murderous intent toward Yu Zhiling had dwindled. Since their reunion a month ago, spending every day with her, she had begun to resemble the person he once idolized in his youth.
He couldn’t deny his past admiration for her, his reverence. If not for Yu Zhiling’s drastic change after returning from the Four Slaughter Realms, he would’ve remained her loyal, obedient disciple forever.
But now, faced with this version of her, he found it harder and harder to strike.
Expressionless, Mo Zhu sat down. A sliver of moonlight spilled through the half-open window—the only light in the darkened room.
The silver glow traced the sharp lines of his face, casting his cold features in an even frostier, more distant aura.
He sat there all night.
Next door, the sounds had long since quieted. She had fallen asleep quickly.
The next morning.
Yu Zhiling woke to noise outside.
It was loud—so loud she couldn’t sleep. Groaning, she sat up, ruffling her messy hair before grumbling, "Who is it?"
The commotion outside paused briefly before a young man’s cool, low voice replied, "Master, it’s the Zhongli Family."
Yu Zhiling: "…I thought the Spirit Music Banquet was at noon. It’s not even dawn yet."
Mo Zhu hesitated before adding, "No. They’re here for me."
Her drowsy mind snapped awake. "Wait for me a moment."
She scrambled up, dressed hastily, and opened the door. Mo Zhu stood in the corridor, impeccably dressed, flanked by several people in Zhongli Family robes. They bowed in unison upon seeing her.
"Greetings, Immortal Lord Zhuoyu."
Yu Zhiling stepped beside Mo Zhu, frowning slightly. "At ease. What business do you have with my disciple?"
A Zhongli representative hurriedly explained, "Our family head seeks Master Mo’s assistance with a matter."
Yu Zhiling nearly laughed. "He’s asking a favor from a disciple of the Yingshan Sect?"
The Zhongli attendant offered an awkward smile. "Yes… that’s correct."
For Zhongli Yang to send people requesting Mo Zhu’s help, it must’ve been a decision agonized over all night. The thought amused Yu Zhiling.
"Explain. What’s the issue?"
One of them clasped his hands respectfully. "The demon beast suppressed in Lianhua Ruins has fallen dormant. Before the banquet begins, our disciples must inspect the sealing array. However… this task was always led by Senior Brother Chang. Given his half-demon bloodline, he could enter the depths where the Three-Eyed Python is confined alone. But last night, Senior Brother Chang suddenly collapsed, and now we…"
Yu Zhiling understood.
The Spirit Music Banquet was a once-in-a-decade event hosted by the Zhongli Family. Before arriving, she’d heard Yan Shanqing summarize its origins.
Six hundred years ago, during the war in the Central Continent, the southern capital had been a major battleground. One of the Demon Realm’s three guardians had led an attack there. To protect the civilians, the Zhongli Family had lost nearly seventy percent of their members.
Yet the true devastation hadn’t come from the demon guardian or his army—it was a demon beast at the early-stage Great Ascension Realm.
The creature, called the Three-Eyed Python, was originally a powerful spirit beast. But due to its formidable bloodline, it had been captured and corrupted by the demons, becoming the mount of that very guardian. Its hide was so tough even celestial-grade artifacts struggled to pierce it. To this day, it remained unkillable—only suppressed within Lianhua Ruins outside the city by the combined efforts of mighty cultivators.
The Zhongli Family specialized in the Path of Music. Within the Lianhua Ruins lay a musical array capable of hypnotizing the Three-Pupiled Serpent. The Spiritual Music Banquet was held to invite musicians from the Central Continent who practiced the Path of Music, serving both as a memorial for the Zhongli Family members who perished in the great war and as a means to reinforce the array in the Lianhua Ruins, ensuring the Three-Pupiled Serpent remained dormant.
Before each Spiritual Music Banquet, the array in the Lianhua Ruins had to be inspected. However, even in slumber, the Three-Pupiled Serpent retained faint awareness and could detect the aura of human cultivators, though it was friendly toward demonic and demonic cultivators. Currently, the Central Continent had no demonic cultivators, and most demonic beings lived in seclusion. The Zhongli Family had only one demonic disciple named Chang Xun, who had always been the one to inspect the array in previous years.
But last night, Chang Xun suddenly collapsed. Now, they needed to find another demonic cultivator—one who was reliable—to enter the Lianhua Ruins and inspect the array.
Yu Zhiling was furious. "You want my disciple to go?"
A Zhongli Family disciple stammered, "...Yes."
Yu Zhiling refused outright. "No. The Lianhua Ruins imprison the Three-Pupiled Serpent—a Great Ascension-level demonic beast. Mo Zhu is only at the Golden Core stage. What if he gets hurt inside?"
She stood protectively in front of Mo Zhu, her voice rising in defiance.
Mo Zhu froze.
She… was defending him?
Yu Zhiling grabbed Mo Zhu’s wrist and prepared to drag him inside, but the young man behind her suddenly stopped.
"Master."
Yu Zhiling turned. "Don’t worry. I won’t let you go."
Yet Mo Zhu pulled his wrist free. "Master, I’m willing to go."
The Zhongli Family disciple brightened. "Thank you, Young Master Mo! You truly are a good man!"
Yu Zhiling glared at him. "Oh? So you’re saying I’m not a good person, huh?"
The disciple: "...The Immortal Lord is an even greater good person!"
Yu Zhiling frowned. "Mo Zhu, do you understand the level of the Three-Pupiled Serpent? It’s a Great Ascension-level demonic beast. Over half of the Zhongli Family’s casualties in the war were because of it. If it—"
"It won’t." Mo Zhu interrupted her, his voice softening as he saw her knitted brows. "It won’t, Master. The Three-Pupiled Serpent has been suppressed for a century. I’m only going to inspect the array."
"But Mo Zhu—"
"Master, I am your disciple. If the array weakens, the Central Continent will be at risk. It’s my duty to go."
Mo Zhu cut her off again, his tone light.
Yu Zhiling was stunned. "You…"
This little inkball… had such high moral awareness?
With just one sentence, the high-minded "inkball" had swayed his master.
"Master, what do you think?"
After such a righteous declaration, Yu Zhiling—being a decent person—could hardly refuse. After a moment’s hesitation, she finally nodded.
"Then… be careful and come back quickly."
Mo Zhu bowed. "Master, I take my leave."
"Wait."
Mo Zhu looked up as Yu Zhiling stepped forward.
Suddenly, the distance between them closed.
Before Mo Zhu could react, Yu Zhiling had already fastened a jade token to his waist.
"Keep this with you. If you’re in danger, I’ll be able to find you immediately. Mo Zhu, don’t make your master worry."
The jade token bore her spiritual mark, ensuring she could locate him no matter where he was.
Mo Zhu’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression complicated. Under Yu Zhiling’s gaze, he nodded.
"...Alright."
After seeing Mo Zhu off, Yu Zhiling followed the attendants to the Zhongli Family estate. As she walked, she passed many musicians.
The Zhongli Family was truly wealthy—pavilions stretched like clouds, towers soared with upturned eaves, and the grandeur left Yu Zhiling wide-eyed.
Passing through a long corridor, she was led deep into the estate. A servant lifted a beaded curtain.
"Family Head, Immortal Lord Zhuoyu has arrived."
Yu Zhiling looked up and met Zhongli Yang’s gaze.
Seated on the high platform in the master’s seat, he wore the Zhongli Family’s signature gold-trimmed purple robes, his face perpetually aloof as if looking down on everyone. When he saw Yu Zhiling, he merely snorted. An empty seat waited to his right.
Yu Zhiling took the seat without ceremony, skipping the usual polite greetings. She casually grabbed a handful of melon seeds from the table and started cracking them.
Zhongli Yang rubbed his temples. "Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, a Great Ascension-level immortal, actually enjoys such mundane snacks?"
Yu Zhiling looked at him like he was an idiot. "You put them here for people to eat, didn’t you?"
Zhongli Yang: "..."
He turned away angrily. "If not for Immortal Lord Shuohan and Immortal Lord Lingxiao both declining to attend the Spiritual Music Banquet, the Zhongli Family would never have invited you. You should know that."
Yu Zhiling: "Yeah, so what?"
Zhongli Yang: "...Given what your Yingshan Sect did centuries ago, our family will never forget. Don’t expect me to give you any face."
Yu Zhiling: "...Oh. Fine, don’t."
Her indifferent dismissal only infuriated him further. He glared at her.
"The Immortal Wood Sprout will be gifted to you after the banquet. Once you have it, you may leave. Southern Capital won’t keep you."
"...Oh."
Zhongli Yang nearly exploded at her nonchalance again.
Yu Zhiling shrank back slightly, still munching on seeds.
She didn’t know the details of the conflict between the Yingshan Sect and the Zhongli Family, but it seemed embarrassing. Yan Shanqing hadn’t explained much, only instructing her to oversee the banquet’s opening, retrieve the Immortal Wood Sprout, and return. If the Zhongli Family provoked her, she was free to retaliate—verbally or otherwise.
After all, Immortal Lord Zhuoyu’s combat prowess dominated the Central Continent. No one could defeat her, and she could raze the Zhongli estate if she pleased.
As the two bickered, no matter what Zhongli Yang said, Yu Zhiling remained unfazed—even peeling an orange for herself.
But when her gaze drifted to the empty seat to her left, the orange suddenly tasted sour. For the first time, she understood the worry of a master whose disciple ventured far.
Zhongli Yang, receiving no response, glanced over and noticed her staring at the seat reserved for Mo Zhu.
Guilt tempered his irritation. Reluctantly, he muttered, "The Three-Pupiled Serpent has been dormant for years. The Zhongli Family reinforces the array every decade. He’s only inspecting it—nothing will happen."
Yu Zhiling nodded. "...Mm."
In the original story’s plot, Mo Zhu had been near Southern Capital during this time. Zhongli Yang had scoured the city for the malevolent spirit that killed Zhongli Xun, with no mention of the Three-Pupiled Serpent causing trouble.
By afternoon, she would see Mo Zhu again.
Outside the Lianhua Ruins, mist curled around towering ancient trees. Unlike the gloom of the Slaughter Realms, sunlight pierced the canopy here, dappling the jagged rocks that emitted eerie wails when the wind blew.
A Zhongli Family disciple accompanying Mo Zhu explained, "These strange rocks are array nodes. The sounds they produce strengthen the barrier."
Mo Zhu nodded faintly. "I understand."
The leading disciple, named You Chen, smiled and said, "Rest assured, fellow cultivator. We’re just conducting routine checks on the formation. The Three-Eyed Serpent has never caused any trouble—it’s always been docile."
Mo Zhu walked inward while asking, "Over the past century, have only you been in contact with the Three-Eyed Serpent? Has anyone actually seen what it looks like?"
"Well... only a few family heads and Senior Brother Chang have seen it. We’ve never interacted with the serpent."
Mo Zhu fell silent and continued walking.
You Chen rambled on, "But speaking of the Three-Eyed Serpent, I’ve heard some things from my senior brother. It’s said to be related to the Flying Serpent, a race long extinct. Its master... that is, the Demon Realm’s Guardian, was supposedly a Flying Serpent."
Mo Zhu’s footsteps halted abruptly, his fist clenching tightly.
You Chen noticed his odd reaction and hesitated before asking softly, "Fellow Cultivator Mo, are you alright?"
Mo Zhu quickly composed himself and resumed walking.
"It’s nothing. I’m just curious. Do you know anything about that Demon Realm Guardian who once controlled the Three-Eyed Serpent?"
Many had shown interest in the serpent before, so You Chen wasn’t surprised. He chuckled. "I don’t know much, but that Guardian was at the early-stage Mahayana realm. He was slain by Immortal Fuchun—the master of Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, your grandmaster."
Mo Zhu stopped again.
The young man’s voice was low. "He... is dead?"
You Chen scratched his head and whispered, "Yes. The Central Continent rumors say he was banished to the Demon Abyss, but those are just tales spread among common folk."
Lowering his voice further, You Chen leaned closer to Mo Zhu. "That Guardian committed countless atrocities—there’s no way he’d be allowed back to the Demon Abyss. Immortal Fuchun fought him alone for half a month before finally slaying him with the 'Frostwind Slash.'"
"Frostwind Slash?"
"Indeed. They say after using that technique, Immortal Fuchun fell unconscious for three whole months."
Mo Zhu spoke little, only occasionally responding, but You Chen was a chatterbox, eagerly sharing everything he knew.
The two ventured deeper until they reached a dark, shadowy forest. You Chen stopped first.
"Mo Zhu, we’re here. Ahead lies the Three-Eyed Serpent’s territory. We won’t go further. Once inside, quickly inspect the formation’s integrity and leave as soon as possible."
Mo Zhu nodded and strode forward without hesitation.
The deeper he went, the colder it became, the sunlight fading with each step. A crisp, melodic hum—likely a lulling formation—grew louder the further he walked. By the time he neared a cavern, the music had reached a frenzied crescendo.
The young man seemed unaffected, stepping inside without pause.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the warmth of late spring vanished, replaced by the bitter chill of deep winter. The cavern was encased in perpetual frost, thick snow covering every surface. The music swelled, accompanied by deafening, dreamlike murmurs.
Within the vast cavern, spanning nearly a hundred li, massive chains hung from above, binding the demonic beast slumbering at the formation’s center. The chains pierced its shoulders and tail, while the Zhongli Family’s restraining formation emitted an eerie, melodious hum.
The instant Mo Zhu laid eyes on the beast, his hands clenched at his sides.
...It wasn’t the one.
After searching for so long, he’d still failed.
Wrong again. Wrong again.
Mo Zhu shut his eyes, a surge of blood rising in his throat. He turned away, coughing violently.
His ponytail trembled as if he might cough up his heart’s blood. His jade-white jaw was smeared with crimson, stray strands of hair swaying with each ragged breath. His beautiful eyes reddened at the corners, yet tears spilled down his cheeks as he glared at the restrained Three-Eyed Serpent in the distance.
Why was it always the wrong one? Why couldn’t he ever find it?
His strength drained away, and the young man collapsed to his knees. His coughing wracked his lungs, leaving no trace of his former grace. His once-elegant features were now haggard and disheveled.
The jade token at his waist chimed. Mo Zhu suppressed the blood in his throat and answered with a shaking hand.
You Chen’s voice came through. "Fellow Cultivator Mo, have you finished inspecting the formation?"
Mo Zhu closed his eyes, steadying his breath before replying hoarsely, "...Starting now."
You Chen urged, "Hurry back. We’ll check the outer perimeter."
Mo Zhu ended the call, wiped the blood from his lips and chin, and pushed himself up unsteadily.
Outside the barrier, You Chen finished inspecting a section of the formation.
The music within Lianhua Marsh grated on his nerves. He glanced at the sky—half an hour had passed. No one should linger here too long.
Frowning, You Chen exhaled sharply, tugging at his uncomfortably tight collar. An inexplicable restlessness gnawed at him.
Strange. He’d never felt like this on previous visits.
His unease grew unbearable. He was about to contact Mo Zhu again when—
"Senior Brother Li, what are you doing?!"
A disciple across from him clutched his bleeding arm, retreating in shock.
The attacker was none other than a fellow Zhongli Family disciple who had entered with them.
You Chen rushed forward. "Junior Brother Li!"
The disciple named Li swayed, the crimson haze in his eyes fading. "Senior Brother... I... What just happened?"
Before You Chen could answer, the disciple noticed the bloodied sword in his hand and the wounded disciple behind You Chen.
"Senior Brother... I didn’t mean to! I don’t know what came over me—I just felt so agitated, and then suddenly—"
He threw down the sword, clutching his head as he staggered back.
The music grew more frenetic, fueling You Chen’s rising agitation. Then it struck him.
"No... This isn’t the soothing formation. Someone altered it!"
The once-calming lullaby had been twisted into a maddening, discordant tune!
The disciples exchanged horrified glances.
If the music had been changed without their knowledge...
How long had the Three-Eyed Serpent been listening?
You Chen yanked the jade token from his waist.
Mo Zhu answered immediately, his voice cool. "Fellow Cultivator You, I’ve finished inspecting the formation."
You Chen shouted desperately, "Mo Zhu, get out now!"
