Mo Zhu carried Yu Zhiling on his back to Yan Shanqing’s courtyard.
As soon as they entered, they saw two people seated in the yard, their eyes turning toward them in unison.
Mo Zhu greeted politely, "Sect Leader, Second Martial Uncle."
He had heard that Xiang Wuxue had gone to Lianhua Ruins, likely to investigate the situation at the time.
Yan Shanqing said, "No need for formalities, child. You’ve worked hard taking care of Little Five these past few days."
Mo Zhu placed Yu Zhiling in a chair and replied without turning his head, "You flatter me, Sect Leader. It’s my duty as a disciple."
The people of Yingshan Sect held no prejudice against Mo Zhu. Though he spoke little, he was courteous to both disciples and elders of the sect. Moreover, his performance during training missions was commendable, and his cultivation level at such a young age was impressive. Even out of appreciation for talent, Yan Shanqing and the others held him in high regard.
Not to mention, he was Yu Zhiling’s only disciple.
Mo Zhu stood behind Yu Zhiling. Even without looking directly at the two elders across from him, he could tell they exchanged glances and nodded in approval—seemingly satisfied with him.
Or rather, satisfied with him as Yu Zhiling’s disciple.
The young man lowered his eyes slightly, unable to suppress the inexplicable discomfort in his heart.
Yu Zhiling, still burdened by the events of the previous night—having used Immortal Lord Zhuoyu’s body to unleash the Frostblade Slash—felt a pang of guilt whenever she looked at Yan Shanqing and the others.
She didn’t dare meet their eyes and could only murmur, "Eldest Martial Brother, Second Martial Sister, I really didn’t mean to. I’ve already realized my mistake. At the time, I had no other choice."
Yan Shanqing snorted, "Did I say I blamed you?"
Yu Zhiling peeked at them from the corner of her eye.
It seemed… their expressions were merely complicated, not as angry or upset as they had been the night before.
Relieved, she immediately reverted to her usual fearless self. "Thank you, Eldest Martial Brother!"
Ning Hengwu raised an eyebrow, "Only thanking your Eldest Martial Brother?"
Yu Zhiling chirped sweetly, "Thank you, Second Martial Sister!"
She even held up two fingers in a heart shape—though Ning Hengwu and Yan Shanqing didn’t understand the gesture, their faces softened like a spring breeze, and they couldn’t help but chuckle.
No matter the situation, Little Five Yu always knew how to charm her martial siblings into laughter.
Mo Zhu stood behind her, watching the smile crinkling the corners of her eyes and the delighted expressions of the two elders.
She had this magic about her—like a little sun, effortlessly dispelling gloom just by being present.
Yu Zhiling noticed her disciple’s gaze and decided to share the love, flashing him a little heart too.
Mo Zhu turned his head away, unable to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. The lingering hostility from Zhongli Yang’s earlier words gradually faded.
The initially tense atmosphere shifted instantly.
Yan Shanqing coughed and shot Yu Zhiling a stern look. "You better behave from now on. The Frostblade Slash must never be used a third time."
Yu Zhiling nodded vigorously like a quail. "Mhm, mhm!"
Yan Shanqing relaxed.
Ning Hengwu softened the mood, "Little Five, how’s your body holding up?"
Yu Zhiling flexed her arm. "I’ll be back to full strength in no time."
Hearing this, Ning Hengwu was reassured.
"Is Mo Zhu taking good care of you? If it’s inconvenient, why not move here? I’ll be staying for a while—you can share quarters with me."
Ning Hengwu sat beside Yan Shanqing, her smile gentle as spring water as she gazed at Yu Zhiling.
Yu Zhiling’s heart skipped a beat.
A beautiful martial sister? She was all for it!
"I think—"
"I’ll handle it."
Their voices overlapped.
Mo Zhu bowed respectfully. "With recent events in the southern capital, Second Martial Uncle must be busy. You may not always be at the Zhongli residence during the day. I, however, have no other commitments. My quarters are next to Master’s, so caring for her isn’t an inconvenience. Moreover—"
His gaze settled on the bewildered Yu Zhiling.
"Master and I made a pact—one sword manual a day, with her guidance. It’s more convenient for my training this way."
Yu Zhiling: "!!!"
She’d completely forgotten about that!
Her virtue points!
Ning Hengwu frowned slightly. "But—"
"Martial Sister, martial sister! I think he’s right. I won’t move after all. As Mo Zhu’s master, I have to take responsibility for his training!" Yu Zhiling cut in hastily.
She straightened from her lazy slump in the chair, even tugging Mo Zhu’s sleeve to pull him closer.
Yan Shanqing: "Little Five, are you sure?"
Yu Zhiling answered firmly, "Absolutely. Mo Zhu takes excellent care of me."
Most importantly, she had to teach him cultivation. Her virtue points hadn’t updated in days—those points were her lifeline. Every breath she took now was borrowed against her lifespan.
Since she insisted, Yan Shanqing could only agree. "Very well."
He turned to Mo Zhu. "Then we’ll trouble you to look after Little Five during this time. Your martial uncles may be preoccupied these days."
Mo Zhu nodded. "It’s my duty as a disciple."
Yan Shanqing added, "If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. And don’t stand on ceremony with the Zhongli family—request whatever you require."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
Yu Zhiling blinked. "Martial Brother, why did you summon me today?"
Thanks to Mo Zhu’s reminder, she’d finally remembered her original purpose and was now eager to return and drill her disciple in cultivation—every second counted.
"Little Five, it’s your martial sister who has something to discuss."
Ning Hengwu spoke up.
Yu Zhiling nodded. "Mhm, what is it, Martial Sister?"
She was wearing the jade hairpin Ning Hengwu had once asked Yan Shanqing to gift her. Ning Hengwu’s eyes lingered on it briefly, her lips curving slightly.
"Little Five, using the Frostblade Slash causes irreversible damage to the body. It requires at least a month of recovery. In the past, you rarely left our sight, and during those ten years, you hardly descended the mountain."
At the mention of those ten years, Yu Zhiling stiffened.
Did they… suspect something?
Her heart clenched, her grip on Mo Zhu’s sleeve tightening unconsciously. The young man noticed her tension immediately.
His gaze dropped to her whitened knuckles, his eyes darkening.
Yu Zhiling was indeed nervous. The kinder the Yingshan Sect was to her, the guiltier she felt—as if she’d stolen Immortal Lord Zhuoyu’s body and deceived them into treating her as their beloved Little Five.
Her evasive eyes only confirmed Ning Hengwu’s suspicions.
Ning Hengwu pressed her lips together. Perhaps her speculation held weight after all.
"Little Five, the first time you unleashed the Frostblade Slash… was it ten years ago, in the Slaughter Realm?"
Asking her would yield no answers—Yu Zhiling had forgotten everything.
Yu Zhiling froze in confusion: "Huh?"
Beside her, Mo Zhu remained expressionless.
As expected, Yan Shanqing and the others could guess as well. The elders of the Yingshan Sect were among the most formidable cultivators in the Central Plains. Those who held such positions could not be fools.
Yu Zhiling shook her head. "I... I truly don’t remember..."
Ning Hengwu said, "Ten years ago, the Slaughter Realm was in turmoil. After receiving the news, you went alone to suppress it. But that time..."
She seemed to recall something unpleasant, her voice growing quieter. "You were gone for an entire month. We had no word from you."
A month?
Yu Zhiling didn’t understand. "But... wasn’t it said that no one should stay overnight in the Slaughter Realm? Last month when I went, Yun Zhi told me the same."
"Indeed, you had never stayed longer than a day before," Yan Shanqing replied, his dark eyes solemn, his voice cold. "Demons fear sunlight and move mostly at night, so the Slaughter Realm is filled with arrays. Every night, all the killing formations activate, annihilating everything inside. No one can stay overnight. Yet you remained for a month."
"We searched for you in the Slaughter Realm more than once. Yun Zhi and Zhao Yan went many times, but the formations were too powerful. When all the arrays activated at night, even Yun Zhi—the strongest among us at the time—nearly lost his life. The others... Later, we could only search during the day and wait outside the Slaughter Realm at night."
That month pushed them all to the brink of collapse. The four elders abandoned all duties, standing guard outside the Slaughter Realm day after day. They entered at dawn and retreated at dusk.
Thirty days.
On the thirty-first day, she emerged.
But what came out was a blood-drenched, emotionless Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, her gaze icy and hollow.
If there was anything that could drive Yu Zhiling—a cultivator at the peak of the Great Ascension Realm—to utter desperation, it could only be that month she spent missing in the Slaughter Realm ten years ago.
The Slaughter Realm held too many unknowns.
This was the first time Yu Zhiling had heard about Immortal Lord Zhuoyu. "I... I don’t know..."
Ning Hengwu frowned. "Little Five, think carefully. This might be connected to the Southern Capital."
Yu Zhiling shook her head blankly. "I... I really can’t recall..."
All she knew was that after emerging from the Slaughter Realm, Immortal Lord Zhuoyu’s temperament had changed drastically. But what had happened inside?
Her fingers unconsciously tightened around Mo Zhu’s sleeve, her nails digging into his arm, as if clinging to him could quell the inexplicable panic rising in her chest.
But... why was she panicking?
Why did the mention of the Slaughter Realm from ten years ago unsettle her so?
"Little Five?"
"Master?"
Something was wrong. Ning Hengwu and Yan Shanqing immediately stood, and Mo Zhu bent down in concern.
Yu Zhiling snapped back to awareness, finding the three of them gathered around her.
Her heart was pounding. She turned her head away, exhaling shakily. "Eldest... Eldest Brother, Second Sister... I... I don’t feel well..."
She truly didn’t look right. A sheen of cold sweat had broken out on her forehead.
Ning Hengwu reached out to wipe it away, gently stroking her hair. "Little Five, did you remember something?"
Yu Zhiling closed her eyes. What had she remembered?
What had happened ten years ago?
She tried to recall, but the memories in her consciousness were a void of darkness. It felt like she was sinking into that abyss again, the same indescribable fear creeping up. She began trembling, her breath ragged, her body drenched in sweat.
—Do you regret it?
It was back.
—Do you regret it? Do you regret it? Do you regret it?
Regret? Regret? Regret?
It had haunted her for twenty years. Since she was three or four years old, this recurring nightmare had tormented her. As a child, she would sob uncontrollably. As an adult, she silently took medicine. No one could help her.
Yu Zhiling suddenly clutched her head. "Regret what? I don’t regret anything! I don’t!"
"I don’t regret it, I don’t! Stop asking, stop asking!"
"Enough! Get out, get out, get out!"
Her emotions erupted without warning, her spiritual pressure leaking uncontrollably. The three of them paled.
Mo Zhu swiftly pulled her into his arms, restraining her thrashing.
"Master! Master!"
"Little Five!"
She was clearly in the throes of a seizure. Ning Hengwu hurriedly channeled spiritual energy into her consciousness.
Yan Shanqing and Mo Zhu called out to her, over and over.
Perhaps sensing their presence, she gradually calmed, gripping someone’s hand tightly. "Don’t... don’t go..."
Mo Zhu, whose hand she held, stared at her in shock. "Master?"
Yu Zhiling’s face was unnaturally pale, her entire body drenched as if pulled from water. In just moments, she had broken into a cold sweat. A breeze swept past, and she shivered violently, clinging to Mo Zhu like a lifeline, burrowing into his embrace.
Mo Zhu had no time to think. He could only hold her tighter.
"It hurts... hurts... I’m scared..."
Every inch of her ached, though there were no visible wounds. It felt as though every meridian in her body was screaming.
Mo Zhu gently patted the back of her hand, softening his voice to soothe her. "Master, it’s alright. It doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m here."
Gradually, the woman in his arms stilled.
Mo Zhu looked up, meeting the grim expressions of Yan Shanqing and Ning Hengwu.
They all saw it now.
Yu Zhiling had an inner demon.
One powerful enough to destroy her.
She couldn’t overcome it. Whenever it surfaced, she lost all ability to resist, letting it consume her.
They couldn’t press further. Ning Hengwu regretted pushing her like this.
Mo Zhu carried Yu Zhiling away, her body still trembling from the ordeal.
The moment they disappeared beyond the courtyard gate, a teacup was swept off the table, shattering on the ground.
The sound of breaking porcelain unleashed the tension they had been holding back.
Ning Hengwu snarled, "The Slaughter Realm—it has to be the Slaughter Realm!"
She turned to leave, but Yan Shanqing stopped her.
"Where are you going?"
Ning Hengwu’s eyes were red-rimmed, tears welling.
"I’m going to the Slaughter Realm. I need to see what’s inside. Didn’t you see? Just mentioning it made her collapse. She has an inner demon! You’ve been at the Yingshan Sect all this time—how could you not know?"
Yan Shanqing hadn’t known. Neither had she.
None of them had.
Ning Hengwu struggled against his grip, desperate to break free.
"Hengwu!" Yan Shanqing held her firmly. "We turned the Slaughter Realm inside out back then. You know exactly what’s in there!"
There were only countless killing arrays, only a single Four Slaughter Stele, only the demonic abyss suppressed beneath that stele—nothing else remained.
Yet how could such things alone drive a cultivator at the peak of the Great Ascension realm to unleash the Frostwind Slash, even to the point of birthing an inner demon?
Ning Hengwu covered her face and turned away, her shoulders trembling as suppressed sobs escaped.
"Ever since Master's incident seventy years ago, she's been blinded by vengeance, unable to focus on cultivation. For seventy years, her cultivation hasn't advanced an inch, as she chased that demonic cultivator across all of Central Continent... And now, an inner demon has taken root. But she follows the Path of Clarity—Xiao Wu, oh Xiao Wu..."
Yan Shanqing closed his eyes in despair. Did Ning Hengwu alone ache for Yu Zhiling? He, too, felt the same pain.
Perhaps from the very beginning, he shouldn’t have agreed to let Yu Zhiling succeed as the Immortal Lord Zhuoyu.
If she had never gone to the Four Slaughter Realm, would she still be like this now?
The death of Immortal Fuchun was a mountain crushing her, and the responsibilities of Central Continent became the final straw that broke her.
A long time passed before the cold wind swept through the courtyard, rustling the fallen leaves.
Xiang Wuxue returned from the southern city and saw the shattered porcelain on the ground, along with Yan Shanqing and Ning Hengwu sitting woodenly in their chairs. He frowned in confusion. "Eldest Brother, Second Sister, what happened?"
The two statues finally stirred.
Ning Hengwu stood up, her face icy as she strode toward the exit.
Xiang Wuxue quickly blocked her path. "Second Sister, where are you going?"
She shot him a frigid glare, her murderous intent unmistakable.
"Soul-searching."
With that, she left, and Xiang Wuxue couldn’t stop her.
He turned to Yan Shanqing, urgency in his voice. "Eldest Brother, there are so many people in the southern city. If Second Sister truly conducts a soul-search, the Immortal Alliance will surely find out—it’ll put her in danger!"
Yan Shanqing, usually composed, knew Ning Hengwu’s actions were reckless. For her own good, he should stop her.
Yet at this moment, he merely glanced at Xiang Wuxue and said calmly, "Let her."
He, too, wanted to know—was the incident in the southern city connected to what happened in the Four Slaughter Realm ten years ago?
What linked the two Frostwind Slashes Yu Zhiling had unleashed?
Xiang Wuxue’s expression darkened as he realized something must have happened while he was away.
"Was Xiao Wu here earlier?"
Yan Shanqing nodded. "Yes."
"What happened to her?"
"She’s developed an inner demon."
An inner demon.
Xiang Wuxue understood immediately. He exhaled sharply and turned away.
"Then let her search. If anything happens, we’ll bear the consequences together."
Yu Zhiling felt deeply embarrassed.
When she regained her senses, she knew she had relapsed. She had never been one to dwell on negativity—those who knew her often said she didn’t seem like someone with psychological struggles.
At the worst of her heart condition, she had spent years confined to the hospital, with critical notices piling up one after another. Even when death loomed the next day, she had never succumbed to despair. She was always good at comforting herself.
Life was fleeting, its length irrelevant. Hers hadn’t been bitter—though her parents had passed when she was young, leaving her in an orphanage, they had apparently left her a substantial fortune. Every month, someone deposited enough funds to ensure she received the best medical care.
Except for this one thing.
She was afraid of the dark. She couldn’t overcome it.
Yu Zhiling stole a glance at the young man across from her, busy preparing the bathwater. She had broken into a cold sweat earlier and demanded a soak the moment she returned.
The memory of her earlier outburst in front of the three of them made her bury her face in her hands, wishing she could vanish into the ground.
Mo Zhu turned and saw her wrestling with herself.
"Master."
Yu Zhiling lifted her head. "Hm?"
He approached, kneeling before her and looking up. "It’s alright."
She knew what he meant.
With a sigh, she admitted, "I know it’s my problem. Just now, I don’t know what came over me. I tried to recall my memories of the Four Slaughter Realm from ten years ago, and suddenly, everything went pitch black. I panicked, and then..."
Mo Zhu knew of her fear.
A Great Ascension cultivator, brought to her knees by mere darkness—it was a fatal weakness. Few could know, lest someone exploit it against her.
He took her trembling hands, gently prying open her clenched fists.
"Master, don’t think about the Four Slaughter Realm anymore. We’ll take it slow. Some things are better forgotten—it’s fine."
Yu Zhiling whispered, "But... this incident in the southern city might be connected to what happened ten years ago. I have to remember..."
She wasn’t foolish. She could guess.
Perhaps from the start, the altered formation at Lianhua Marsh, the awakening of the Three-Eyed Serpent, the emergence of the Eight Blades Killing Array—all had been a trap laid for her.
The southern city held nothing of value. The Zhongli family was wealthy, but many other clans surpassed them. Why go to such lengths—reviving the Three-Eyed Serpent, attempting to annihilate the city?
"I suspect the Three-Eyed Serpent was awakened to exhaust me, and then the Eight Blades Killing Array appeared. As the strongest cultivator in the southern city, I couldn’t stand aside. In that situation, the only way to break the array was with the Frostwind Slash."
And using it would lead to only two outcomes.
Either she would fail, too drained to execute the technique, and die beneath the array’s killing winds.
Or she would burn her spirit to unleash it, leaving herself mortally wounded.
If someone later forced her to use it a third time, Central Continent would lose its Immortal Lord Zhuoyu.
Just as they had once eliminated Immortal Fuchun, who had reached the Tribulation Transcendence realm—exploiting the fatal flaw of the Path of Clarity to remove two of Central Continent’s greatest powers.
Three Frostwind Slashes—protecting the land while severing her own lifeline.
She could see it. So could Mo Zhu and Yan Shanqing.
Mo Zhu’s lashes lowered. She hadn’t realized how tightly she was still gripping his hands, still trembling.
The thought of someone lurking in the shadows, plotting her demise, made his own killing intent surge uncontrollably.
"Mo Zhu, I want to bathe now."
Her sudden words snapped him out of it. He looked up.
Yu Zhiling pouted, already coaxing herself back to calm. "I’ll take it slow. Whatever comes, we’ll face it. I have all of you with me. And I will find whoever’s behind this."
Then she would take their head and lay it before Immortal Fuchun’s grave.
She still interpreted her intense killing intent as the lingering emotions of the original body's owner. Since she had taken over this body, she felt responsible for fulfilling its final wish.
Yu Zhiling glanced at him. "Um, you should leave first. I need to bathe."
Mo Zhu nodded. "Alright."
He carried her to a wooden chair by the hot spring so she wouldn’t struggle too much when moving later.
Truthfully, a simple cleansing spell could have handled this, but Yu Zhiling preferred soaking in hot water when she was anxious—the warmth eased her exhaustion and unease.
Mo Zhu closed the door behind him as he left, though he didn’t go far, choosing to wait just outside. He muted his hearing, ensuring he wouldn’t catch the sounds of her bathing. The silence allowed him to focus on the thoughts weighing on his mind.
As she had said, there was nothing of value in Nan Du worth scheming over. So, the recent disturbances there were likely aimed at eliminating her—the foremost Immortal Lord Zhuoyu of Zhongzhou.
The mastermind remained hidden in the shadows, and the uncertainty had everyone on edge. Yu Zhiling might not fear death, but Yan Shanqing, Xiang Wuxue, Ning Hengwu, the other elder traveling abroad, and even him—they were all gripped by dread.
Mo Zhu pinched the bridge of his nose, his chest tight, his heartbeat faster than usual. He was far more afraid than she was, terrified that something might truly happen to her.
They were exposed, while their enemy lurked unseen.
After a long wait, the jade token at his waist flickered. He restored his hearing.
"Mo Zhu, I’m done."
"Understood, Master."
Mo Zhu steadied his emotions, his expression calm once more, before pushing the door open and stepping inside.
A wave of warm, fragrant mist greeted him, carrying her scent. His heightened senses, innate to his Flying Serpent nature, sharpened in the haze—he could still see her silhouette clearly and catch the delicate fragrance that clung to her.
His ears reddened slightly, his gaze flickering away as his throat bobbed.
"Master?"
Yu Zhiling had already dressed and dried her hair. After climbing out of the spring, she had settled on a nearby couch to finish preparing before calling him in.
She stretched out her arms toward him, opening them in invitation.
"Mo Zhu, I’m right here."
The playful lilt in her voice sent a shiver down his spine.
Mo Zhu stiffened, his pulse quickening even further. Forcing composure, he moved toward her, finding her seated on the small couch meant for laying out clothes.
Her hair, unbound, cascaded in silken waves down her back. She wore only simple inner robes, no outer layer, her fair feet resting against the cool tiles.
Not daring to look too closely, he stiffly scooped her up.
Yu Zhiling looped her arms around his neck, her smooth hair brushing against his skin as it spilled over his shoulders. The cool strands carried her scent, and he found himself hyperaware of it.
As a Flying Serpent, his senses far surpassed those of human cultivators—his hearing, taste, touch, sight, and smell were all unparalleled.
He could hear her voice through walls from meters away, and even in the thick steam of the hot spring, he could distinguish her fragrance—a light, crisp orange blossom with a faintly bitter undertone.
Yu Zhiling nestled in his arms, noticing his stillness. She poked his cheek.
"What’s wrong? Do you want to bathe too?"
Mo Zhu turned his head, coughing lightly. "N-No, it’s nothing. This disciple doesn’t need to."
Carrying her out of the spring, he realized something as they walked back to her room—his master, despite her icy exterior, had an unconscious habit of acting spoiled…
And it was utterly lethal.
The amnesiac Yu Zhiling loved to act coy. Perhaps it was because she had been doted on since childhood—her senior brothers and sisters, even the late Immortal Fuchun, had indulged her unconditionally. Her nature was innocent, her words and actions carrying a childlike naivety.
Mo Zhu suspected she must have often acted this way around Yan Shanqing and the others when she was younger.
Setting her down on the bed, he knelt without prompting, retrieving silk socks from her qiankun pouch.
He lifted her foot, letting it rest against his knee.
Though his expression was solemn, Yu Zhiling’s cheeks flushed.
She curled her toes slightly, hesitating. "M-Mo Zhu, maybe I should stay with Senior Sister instead…"
In her current state, she couldn’t bend over. Simple dressing was manageable, but walking required him to carry her, and even putting on socks needed his help.
Mo Zhu held her ankle, deftly slipping the sock on without looking up. "Didn’t you promise to guide this disciple’s cultivation? It’s been a long time since I last practiced sword forms."
The clever disciple had struck a nerve. Yu Zhiling immediately backtracked. "You’re right! This master was neglectful. One manual a day, wasn’t it? You must have missed several—tomorrow, you’ll make up for all of them!"
Pulling her skirt down to cover her feet, he suppressed a smile. "Mn. I’ll make up for them tomorrow."
He had guessed correctly—Yu Zhiling cared deeply about his progress. Even back in the Yingshan Sect, she had been meticulous about it.
Watching her disciple’s faintly amused expression, Yu Zhiling thought this gentle, attentive version of Mo Zhu was practically her dream disciple. But as a devoted fan of the original story, she knew the male lead was severely OOC right now.
Sighing, she voiced her concern under his puzzled gaze.
"I forgot again—I should have asked Second Sister to check on you. I’ll send her a message tonight. She’ll examine your head properly."
Mo Zhu: "…"
So she still hadn’t let this go?
Arguing would get him nowhere. Once Ning Hengwu took his pulse and found nothing unusual, maybe then she’d be at ease.
He nodded. "Alright."
Suddenly remembering something, Yu Zhiling hurriedly dug through her qiankun pouch, pulling out a wooden box.
"Oh! Zhongli Yang gave me the Immortal Wood Sprig. We’ll have Sister remove the gu tonight."
At the mention of the Heart-Devouring Gu, her expression faltered, her gaze flickering to him nervously.
"Mo Zhu… I’m sorry."
His heart ached. He forced a smile. "Master, this has nothing to do with you. Nothing at all. You’ve never hurt me—not once."
Yu Zhiling missed the deeper meaning in his words, assuming his kindness was just another symptom of his "condition."
She pressed the sprig into his hand, murmuring, "We’ll free you from the gu tonight. I won’t let you suffer because of me again."
She remembered nothing. Though Mo Zhu had recognized her true identity, he hesitated—should he tell her?
Even if she believed him, he couldn’t explain everything yet. Was this possession? Or had someone else returned to the Yingshan Sect in her place?
With no clear answers, it was too soon to speak. And besides…
Yan Shanqing and the others seemed intent on shielding Yu Zhiling from the past. They wanted her to remain carefree, just like this.
Mo Zhu let out a soft sigh and rose to his feet, lifting her gently to sit before the dressing table.
He picked up the wooden comb and began carefully arranging her hair. He had always been quick to learn—after just one demonstration from her, he’d mastered the intricate style effortlessly.
Yu Zhiling watched their reflections overlap in the mirror, struck by a sudden realization. Though Mo Zhu appeared aloof and indifferent, he seemed surprisingly attentive in moments like these, exuding an almost domestic charm that was hard to ignore.
Her heart couldn’t help but sigh in amusement. Her little disciple might be a bit troubled, but this troubled little disciple…
was undeniably, unbearably adorable.
