In the master chamber of the Zhongli Family, an incense burner glowed softly by the window.
This calming incense was something Zhongli Yang had never needed before—he had never suffered from sleeplessness, drifting into slumber effortlessly each night. But ever since the incident in the Southern Capital, though no lives had been lost, the lurking danger had kept him on edge. Until that demonic cultivator was found, he couldn’t rest. Two sleepless nights had passed, and now he had to rely on the incense just to steal a moment of respite.
Just as he lit the incense and prepared to rest, a clamor erupted outside his door.
"Master, something’s happened!"
"Ah Lin, the master is resting. Whatever it is, report it in half an hour."
"There’s no time! The Fenchun Pavilion is under attack!"
"What?!"
Any thought of sleep vanished.
Fenchun Pavilion…
Zhongli Yang’s head snapped up, his voice sharp. "Enter!"
A disciple rushed in, breathless. "Master, it’s urgent!"
Zhongli Yang stood. "Speak!"
The messenger blurted out, "Elder Ning barged into the Fenchun Pavilion alone! She shattered all the barriers you set and insists on performing a soul search!"
Before the words fully settled, Zhongli Yang was already gone, vanishing in an instant.
The disciples outside exchanged uneasy glances, then broke into hushed whispers.
"A soul search? Isn’t that a forbidden demonic technique? Elder Ning is a Yingshan Sect elder!"
"How can someone from the Central Continent dare use demonic arts? She’s openly defying the laws!"
"But… whose soul is she searching?"
"Could it be… Senior Brother Chang?"
Just yesterday, Zhongli Yang had abruptly taken the unconscious Chang Xun to the Fenchun Pavilion, sealing it with protective formations. So this was why—to stop Ning Hengwu from probing his mind.
The disciples fell silent, knowing better than to speculate further about the affairs of their elders.
By the time Zhongli Yang arrived at the Fenchun Pavilion, Ning Hengwu had already dismantled every barrier he’d placed.
"Ning Hengwu!"
With a sweep of his sleeve, he unleashed a surge of spiritual energy, intercepting her blade before it could strike the door.
Ning Hengwu dodged back, her movements fluid. In the blink of an eye, Zhongli Yang stood firm before the entrance, his expression dark, his aura oppressive, the gilded violet robes flaring around him.
Her face was equally cold as she drew the soft sword at her waist.
"Move."
Zhongli Yang’s voice was icy. "You know soul searching is forbidden in the Central Continent. It was because the demons used it on our elders, uncovering our defenses, that we suffered such devastating losses!"
"And what of it?"
"The Immortal Alliance’s elders have strictly prohibited its use! If you go through with this, word will spread—do you realize how many Zhongli disciples there are? How quickly this will reach the Immortal Alliance?"
Ning Hengwu scoffed. "Get out of my way!"
Her sword slashed horizontally, a killing intent radiating from the strike.
Zhongli Yang gritted his teeth, forming a seal to block it.
"Ning Hengwu, I’m trying to protect you! If you use soul search today, the Immortal Alliance will come for you tomorrow!"
"Do I need your protection? Move!"
Though Ning Hengwu’s delicate features—arched brows and phoenix eyes—were known for their gentleness, her temper was legendary, especially when it came to her sworn siblings.
Zhongli Yang saw the murderous glint in her eyes, her blade humming with lethal intent. She would cut him down if he stood in her way.
He sidestepped, still pleading. "Just calm down. If you don’t trust the Zhongli Family, we’ll find another way. Soul search is forbidden—the Immortal Alliance won’t spare you!"
"And what if I do it anyway?" With a feint, she darted past him, landing before the door and blasting it apart with a single strike.
"Ning Hengwu!"
He lunged forward, but her stubbornness left him seething.
She was already inside.
As Zhongli Yang moved to follow, a long saber descended, its edge nearly severing his arm. He recoiled instinctively, then glared at the figure now barring the entrance.
Clad in the deep blue robes of a sect leader, Yan Shanqing exuded authority. Seventy years as Yingshan’s head had honed his commanding presence.
Zhongli Yang’s voice turned frigid. "Yan Shanqing, do you realize what she’s doing? I’m trying to save her!"
Yan Shanqing remained unmoved. "The Yingshan Sect protects its own. We don’t need the Zhongli Family’s concern."
"You’re really going to let her do this?"
"That soul will be searched."
Zhongli Yang shut his eyes briefly. When they opened again, all emotion had drained away.
"If you’re determined to break the Central Continent’s laws, then I have no choice. Guards!"
Zhongli disciples swarmed in, surrounding the pavilion. But before they could advance, a crimson blur flashed past.
A crushing pressure—the full might of a perfected Divine Transformation cultivator—slammed down, sending weaker disciples flying.
Zhongli Yang whirled around. The newcomer, dressed in red, was devastatingly beautiful, his usual warmth replaced by chilling indifference.
"Xiang Wuxue… Have you lost your mind too?"
Xiang Wuxue was the most level-headed of Yingshan’s five elders. Zhongli Yang had been certain he would never condone soul search—he knew the consequences.
Yet here he stood, fan in hand, holding back hundreds of Zhongli disciples.
"Master Zhongli, forgive us. For Little Five’s sake, this soul must be searched."
Zhongli Yang could only stare.
"Madness… You’re all mad."
Privately, he didn’t want to stop them. Yu Zhiling had helped him too much.
But as the Zhongli Family’s master, the unconscious man inside was his disciple. The people outside were his childhood friends. As a leader, he had to shield his disciple. As their friend, he couldn’t let them invite the Immortal Alliance’s wrath.
"Stop them!" he ordered coldly.
Chaos erupted outside.
Ning Hengwu heard everything, yet her focus never wavered. Yan Shanqing and Xiang Wuxue were among the strongest cultivators alive. Even if the entire Zhongli Family came, those two could hold them off long enough.
Long enough for her to finish.
She pushed past the beaded curtain into the inner chamber. On the bed lay a pale figure, the air thick with medicinal herbs. He had been unconscious for some time.
Her fingers pressed against Chang Xun’s wrist, spiritual energy flooding his meridians without restraint, heedless of his condition.
She invoked the forbidden technique, desperate for even a shred of answers.
Fifteen minutes later, the entire Zhongli Family had mobilized. Yan Shanqing and Xiang Wuxue stood back-to-back, the courtyard littered with motionless bodies.
None had been killed—only rendered unconscious.
The lead disciple approached Zhongli Yang hesitantly. "Master?"
Zhongli Yang closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "No need to keep calling. It’s already too late."
At that moment, someone stepped out from behind Yan Shanqing and Xiang Wuxue.
Ning Hengwu’s expression remained calm as she said softly, "Eldest Senior Brother, Third Junior Brother, let’s go."
Zhongli Yang didn’t order anyone to stop her—she had already completed her soul-searching.
Just like that, the three of them swaggered out of Fenchun Pavilion.
A disciple hesitantly asked, "Family Head, what should we do?"
Zhongli Yang responded in a muffled voice, "All of you, withdraw."
He entered the inner chamber of Fenchun Pavilion, pushing aside the beaded curtain. Chang Xun was sitting on the bed, now awake.
Chang Xun looked around in confusion. "Family Head? What’s…?"
Zhongli Yang remained silent, sitting beside him and placing his fingers on Chang Xun’s wrist.
Chang Xun’s body still carried traces of Ning Hengwu’s spiritual energy. The Central Continent’s foremost medical cultivator had searched his soul but had also healed his old injuries, helping him regain consciousness.
Meeting his disciple’s bewildered gaze, Zhongli Yang swallowed a thousand words, leaving only a sigh.
"A-Xun, it’s nothing."
Zhongli Yang stepped out of Fenchun Pavilion. It was just noon, the sun hanging high in the sky, its bright light stinging his eyes. He hadn’t rested properly in days, only managing an hour of sleep the previous night. Now, his steps felt unsteady, his body drained of strength.
"Family Head, what do we do now?"
Zhongli Yang shook his head. "Leave it to fate. The Immortal Alliance must already know."
And they would likely arrive by tomorrow at the latest.
Yu Zhiling lounged lazily on a soft divan, basking in the sunlight.
"This is the life."
She took a bite of an apple and sighed again. "So good."
In the courtyard, the sound of a sword cutting through the air echoed as a young man moved with swift precision, his dark robes fluttering like a dragon in motion.
A voice chimed in Yu Zhiling’s ear.
[Ding! The male protagonist has mastered the "Taichu Sword Technique." Host’s virtue points +50. Current virtue points: 900. Keep up the good work!]
Yu Zhiling cheered loudly, "So good!"
Mo Zhu, who had been practicing his swordplay, nearly tripped over his own feet.
Turning to see what she was up to, he found his half-paralyzed master straining to lift her head, forming a strange gesture with her thumb and forefinger.
Yu Zhiling blew him an exaggerated kiss from afar, then clasped her hands above her head to form a giant heart.
Mo Zhu: "…"
He could tell she was happy—and he could guess why.
Because his cultivation was advancing.
He, too, was eager to grow stronger. With so many uncertainties lurking, protecting her as soon as possible was his priority. So he wasted no time, picking up another sword technique to practice.
Two hours later, Yu Zhiling was on her second apple.
[Ding! The male protagonist has mastered the "Shangshui Sword Technique." Host’s virtue points +50. Current virtue points: 950. Keep it up!]
Tears of joy nearly welled up in Yu Zhiling’s eyes.
Another two hours passed, and she finished her third apple.
[Ding! The male protagonist has mastered the "Changqing Sword Technique." Host’s virtue points +50. Current virtue points: 1000. Keep going!]
A thousand points!
Yu Zhiling shot upright in excitement, only to wince as the sudden movement tugged at her damaged meridians. Mo Zhu immediately set down his sword and rushed over.
He helped steady her. "Master, what’s wrong?"
Yu Zhiling ignored the pain, beaming at him. "Mo Zhu, Mo Zhu, you’re such a good boy!"
He still didn’t understand her words, blinking in confusion. "What?"
"Never mind! You must be tired. Take a break—we’ll train more tomorrow."
She pressed him onto the divan, nearly suffocating him with an enthusiastic hug. This kid was too impressive—he’d earned her over two hundred virtue points in a single day, completing a fifth of her mission in one go.
Generously, she handed him the apple she’d just peeled. "Eat!"
Mo Zhu hesitated.
Mo Zhu pushed it back. "This disciple isn’t hungry."
"Eat it! Don’t be shy!" Yu Zhiling shoved the apple back into his hands. "This is filled with your master’s love. Hurry up and eat!"
Mo Zhu had no choice but to accept her "love-filled apple."
"Thank you, Master."
Truthfully, he wasn’t fond of apples—or rather, Mo Zhu rarely had an appetite. He could go months without eating and never feel hunger. He didn’t understand why Yu Zhiling, who had achieved inedia at ten, still craved food so intensely. Whenever she was awake, her mouth was rarely idle for more than half an hour.
They sat in silence.
Yu Zhiling sighed contentedly, stretching out on the divan with her legs crossed and hands resting peacefully on her stomach. If not for her lingering smile, Mo Zhu might have thought she’d fallen asleep.
"Master, are you tired?"
Yu Zhiling cracked one eye open. "Nope. Just waiting for your senior aunt to come check your head."
Mo Zhu: "…"
He turned away without another word, crunching through the apple she’d forced on him.
The divan wasn’t large, and with her sprawled in the middle, there wasn’t much space left for him. His side brushed against her shoulder as he sat beside her.
Glancing down, he saw her eyes still closed, her long lashes casting delicate shadows under the golden glow of dusk. She seemed to radiate light.
Yu Zhiling’s hands rested on her stomach, her sleeves slipping slightly to reveal the dark green serpent bracelet shimmering under the sunset.
Mo Zhu’s gaze lingered on it.
He’d searched for this very item for so long—never expecting it to be in her possession.
"What are you looking at?"
His thoughts scattered as Yu Zhiling’s voice broke the silence.
Mo Zhu blinked, meeting her curious gaze as she tilted her head.
Yu Zhiling frowned. "Are you staring at my bracelet?"
Mo Zhu quickly averted his eyes. "It’s nothing. This disciple just thought the bracelet was beautiful."
Yu Zhiling lifted her wrist, the serpent coiled around the bamboo-like band appearing almost lifelike. She traced its scales with her fingers.
"You like it?"
"…Mn. It’s beautiful."
This was the first time Mo Zhu had ever complimented anything. Delighted, Yu Zhiling wriggled, signaling for him to help her sit up.
She extended her wrist toward him. "Do you recognize this snake?"
Her eyes sparkled with innocent curiosity.
Mo Zhu’s gaze darkened slightly. "Master, you don’t know?"
Yu Zhiling: "…Huh?"
Oh no… If this bracelet belonged to the Jade-Cleansing Immortal, then surely the original owner would have known its origins.
Yu Zhiling’s mind raced before landing on her tried-and-true excuse: "Ah, right—I lost my memories! Did I used to wear this often?"
A shadow flickered in Mo Zhu’s eyes, but his voice remained neutral. "This disciple wasn’t at the Yingshan Sect before, so I wouldn’t know."
No—he was certain she had never worn it before. If he’d known it was in her possession, he would have reclaimed it long ago.
The sacred treasure of the Tengshe Clan had no place in the hands of someone with impure intentions.
But after recognizing her, it seemed this object wasn’t so bad in her hands—it might even save her life at a critical moment.
However…
She wasn’t a Teng Snake, so why would this treasure acknowledge her as its master?
Mo Zhu frowned slightly, unable to make sense of it.
Yu Zhiling noticed his odd expression and hesitated before asking softly, "Mo Zhu, do you recognize this snake?"
The snake looked somewhat familiar to her too. She’d even wondered if it might be a Teng Snake, but Teng Snakes were different from ordinary serpents—they had majestic, enormous wings. The snake coiled around the bracelet had no wings.
She thought Mo Zhu might know what it was, but in reality, he only glanced at her before shaking his head.
"Master, this disciple doesn’t know."
Yu Zhiling didn’t believe him. "How could you not know? You’ve spent so many years in the Central Continent—haven’t you ever seen a snake like this?"
Some things didn’t need to be shared with her; they’d only bring her unnecessary worry.
Mo Zhu lied without batting an eye. "Master, what it is doesn’t matter. What I can tell is that there seems to be a restriction within this bracelet. Wearing it might protect you, so keep it on."
Yu Zhiling narrowed her eyes and suddenly leaned in. "Mo Zhu, are you trying to fool me?"
Mo Zhu hadn’t expected this move. Her sudden closeness brought their noses nearly touching, and he could see his own slightly constricted pupils reflected in her eyes. Her breath, soft and warm, lingered between them.
"...Master?"
Yu Zhiling pouted and lazily leaned back again. "Fine, fine. Whatever you say goes. I’ll keep it on."
She’d been brought here by this bracelet. The system had called it a one-way ticket, but Yu Zhiling didn’t believe that. Maybe one day, she could use it to return. So she wore it dutifully, waiting for a miracle.
After all, her merit points had already reached a thousand. She wasn’t far from the five thousand needed to escape. The thought made her grin, and she found her little disciple even more pleasing to the eye.
Mo Zhu noticed his master’s doting gaze again.
Yu Zhiling patted his head. "Good boy, you’re such a treasure."
"Mn."
Mo Zhu responded quietly, lowering his eyes. That inexplicable discomfort gnawed at his heart again, stirring a restless anger he couldn’t suppress.
He didn’t understand why he felt this way, but he knew one thing—he hated it when she treated him like a child.
He was already…
Seventeen.
Old enough to start a family.
Mo Zhu turned his head away and took a deep breath, as if that could dispel the tangled frustration in his chest.
Yu Zhiling lounged lazily, swinging her legs as she hummed a tune, watching the dusk. This was their time, undisturbed by anyone.
Mo Zhu leaned back slightly, resting against the bed frame beside her, their shoulders touching as they both gazed at the sunset.
Yu Zhiling suddenly spoke. "Beautiful, isn’t it?"
Mo Zhu: "What?"
She pointed at the sky, now dyed a deep red. "The sunset, the evening clouds."
The glow of the twilight painted her face a soft pink.
Mo Zhu’s throat felt dry. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly before he finally muttered, "Beautiful."
The sunset was beautiful, and so was she.
Yu Zhiling chuckled carelessly. "I think so too. You know, if it rains one day and clears up the next, there’s usually a rainbow."
"...A rainbow?"
"Mn… or ‘sky bow,’ as you’d call it here."
Her last words were spoken softly, almost to herself, but Mo Zhu caught them.
She’d said, "as you’d call it here."
His brow furrowed slightly. Something felt off.
Yu Zhiling didn’t notice her disciple’s wandering thoughts and continued rambling. "Back then, I loved sitting by the window to watch the sky. If there were many stars at night, the next day would usually be clear. If a thick fog suddenly rolled in on a sunny day, the weather would turn cloudy soon after. And if we see fiery clouds like this at dusk, tomorrow will probably be nice too."
Mo Zhu leaned against her and asked, "How does Master know all this?"
"Observation. Everything follows patterns—you just need an eye for nature’s beauty." She pointed at her own eyes and grinned smugly. "Not to brag, but I know a thing or two you don’t."
Mo Zhu’s lips curled slightly, teasing her. "Oh? What does Master know?"
Yu Zhiling lowered her voice mysteriously. "Do you know why apples fall instead of floating?"
"Why?"
"Because of gravity."
Mo Zhu: "..."
Yu Zhiling pressed on. "Do you know why people say ‘timely snow promises a good harvest’?"
Mo Zhu: "...No."
"Because snow insulates crops, preventing heat transfer and air convection, so they don’t freeze to death."
Mo Zhu: "..."
Yu Zhiling then picked up her Zhuling Sword and grabbed Mo Zhu’s Yuhan Sword, rubbing the blades together before holding them out to him.
"Touch them."
Mo Zhu reached out and felt the metal.
"What do you feel?"
"Warmth."
Yu Zhiling beamed. "Know why?"
"...This disciple doesn’t."
"This is called thermal energy—friction generates heat."
Ah, she truly was a master of all knowledge.
Her little disciple remained expressionless. Yu Zhiling took it as a sign that her vast wisdom had humbled the proud protagonist, so she patted his shoulder.
"Young man, you’ve still got a lot to learn. If there’s anything you don’t know, just ask your master. After all, I’m—"
She sighed dramatically. "Terrifyingly strong."
Mo Zhu forced a smile. "Mn. Master is incredible."
The incredible master then started noisily cracking melon seeds.
The sound filled Mo Zhu’s ears as he sat beside her, expressionless. A thought suddenly crossed his mind.
If she had truly been possessed for the past ten years, where had the real her gone?
And why, after just a retreat, had she returned?
Mo Zhu had wandered the Central Continent for years, and his experiences far surpassed what a boy his age should have seen. He was certain—many of the things Yu Zhiling said were completely foreign to him.
She was careless, to put it kindly—trusting to a fault. She never considered how her words might sound to someone with ulterior motives.
Like him.
Yu Zhiling had no idea how much her words had set her clever disciple’s mind racing. She hummed her tune, savoring the peaceful moment.
Lying in bed for too long, one tends to dwell on random thoughts—gazing at the sky, flipping through books—and over time, knowledge accumulates.
When Ning Hengwu pushed open the courtyard gate, she saw Yu Zhiling lounging lazily on the soft couch Xiang Wuxue had made for her, with a young man seated beside her.
Mo Zhu sat with his eyes closed in meditation, one hand holding a plate.
Meanwhile, Yu Zhiling, lacking proper back support, had quite naturally used her disciple as a cushion, leaning against him while cracking sunflower seeds and tossing the shells into the plate Mo Zhu held.
Ning Hengwu: "..."
Hearing the sound, Yu Zhiling turned her head.
"Second Senior Sister!"
Her eyes instantly brightened.
Ning Hengwu’s heart softened. She closed the courtyard gate and walked over. "Little Five, did you rest well today?"
"Mm-hmm!" Yu Zhiling nodded, tossing the handful of seeds she’d been holding to Mo Zhu before reaching out to Ning Hengwu.
Mo Zhu: "..."
Expressionless, he pocketed the seeds and placed the plate full of shells on the table.
Ning Hengwu approached the couch, patted Yu Zhiling’s head, and took her hand. "How’s your health?"
Yu Zhiling grinned. "Fantastic! I could eat ten roast chickens in one sitting!"
"All you think about is food."
Ning Hengwu knew exactly what she meant. She set down the oil-paper bag she’d been carrying on the small table beside the couch.
Yu Zhiling had caught the scent of roast chicken the moment Ning Hengwu entered.
Delighted, she sat up properly and reached for the bag, only for Ning Hengwu to stop her.
"Wait before eating. Didn’t you say you needed me for something?"
Yu Zhiling suddenly remembered. "Oh right! A big matter!"
Ning Hengwu’s expression turned serious. Thinking it was genuinely urgent, she set aside her casual demeanor. "Little Five, is your health not well?"
But Yu Zhiling abruptly yanked Mo Zhu, who had been about to stand, back down beside her. Caught off guard, he stumbled back onto the couch.
Under Ning Hengwu’s stern gaze, Yu Zhiling spoke with utmost gravity.
"Senior Sister, it’s my disciple who’s sick."
Ning Hengwu frowned. "Mo Zhu? What’s wrong? Is he injured somewhere?"
Mo Zhu: "Second Senior Aunt, it’s not like—"
"Yes! He’s injured—badly!" Yu Zhiling cut him off, emphasizing the severity for Ning Hengwu’s benefit.
True to expectations, Ning Hengwu grew concerned. "What happened? Mo Zhu, give me your wrist. Let me check your pulse."
Just as Mo Zhu opened his mouth to explain, Yu Zhiling interrupted again.
"No, his injury is in the brain."
Ning Hengwu: "?"
Mo Zhu: "..."
Mo Zhu closed his eyes.
Well, there goes his dignity.
Ning Hengwu struggled to regain her composure. "Little Five, what do you mean?"
Yu Zhiling couldn’t have been more serious, her brow furrowed and her tone grave. "Second Senior Sister, after I unleashed Frostwind Slash in Lianhua Abyss, I think I passed out—probably landed right on him. I suspect I might’ve damaged his brain. Ever since that day, he’s been a completely different person."
Ning Hengwu: "…………"
She glanced between Yu Zhiling’s earnest face and Mo Zhu’s deadpan expression.
"Little Five, stop joking around."
Yu Zhiling insisted, "I’m not joking! He’s really sick!"
Ning Hengwu sighed. "Little Five, let’s just eat first—"
"No, diagnose him first!" Yu Zhiling pushed Mo Zhu forward, grabbing his wrist and thrusting it at Ning Hengwu. "Senior Sister, check him properly. His condition is critical."
He’d deviated so far from his original character that she, a die-hard fan of the novel, almost wondered if she’d transmigrated into the wrong story. Was this still the aloof, cold-hearted, silent protagonist from Autumn’s End? She was supposed to be playing the villainous master—how could he possibly treat her so kindly?
Under her relentless pressure, Ning Hengwu reluctantly placed her fingers on Mo Zhu’s wrist.
Yu Zhiling watched them intently. Since this was her disciple’s medical examination, she, as his guardian, had to supervise.
After a quarter of an hour, Ning Hengwu withdrew her hand.
Then she took Yu Zhiling’s wrist instead.
Yu Zhiling: "?"
Baffled, she asked, "Senior Sister, he’s the one with brain damage. Why are you checking my pulse?"
Ning Hengwu patted her head gently with her free hand, her voice soothing. "Be good, Little Five. Let me check your injuries."
Ah, a follow-up exam. Yu Zhiling immediately cooperated, sitting obediently as Ning Hengwu checked her pulse.
Another quarter of an hour later, Ning Hengwu withdrew her hand. "Little Five, I’ll prescribe some calming medicine. Make sure to take it, alright?"
Yu Zhiling frowned. "I don’t need calming medicine. I sleep just fine."
Ning Hengwu pinched her cheek, speaking as if coaxing a child. "It’s just a precaution. The medicine will help you rest even better."
Oh, so it was out of concern. Yu Zhiling’s eyes curved into crescents as she hugged Ning Hengwu’s waist and nuzzled against her.
"Thank you, Senior Sister!"
Ning Hengwu forced a smile, stroking the back of Yu Zhiling’s head while exchanging a glance with Mo Zhu.
She sighed inwardly. This disciple had remarkable patience, enduring Yu Zhiling’s antics without complaint. Her little junior sister had indeed found a good disciple—talented, diligent, and capable.
A fine young man.
But Yu Zhiling hadn’t forgotten the main issue. She pulled back from the hug and looked up at Ning Hengwu. "So, Senior Sister, how bad is Mo Zhu’s brain injury? Can you cure him?"
Ning Hengwu: "...Little Five, Mo Zhu is perfectly healthy. He’s a demon—even if you did land on his head, it wouldn’t harm him."
Yu Zhiling remained unconvinced. "Check again, Senior Sister. He’s definitely sick!"
He was so far gone that he’d willingly accepted a villain as his master, letting her order him around without protest—carrying her, comforting her, even coaxing her to sleep. He was practically terminal!
Ning Hengwu repeatedly assured her that Mo Zhu was fine, but Yu Zhiling clung to her sleeve, refusing to let her leave. The two argued back and forth.
Meanwhile, Mo Zhu silently took the now-cold roast chicken to the kitchen to reheat it. Knowing her, she’d definitely demand it later tonight.
Finally, Ning Hengwu relented under Yu Zhiling’s relentless badgering and left behind a bottle of "curative pills" for Mo Zhu.
Yu Zhiling accepted the medicine eagerly. "If he takes these, will he recover?"
Ning Hengwu nodded. "Mm-hmm."
Only then did Yu Zhiling relax.
Night had long since fallen. Ning Hengwu stood to leave.
"Little Five, I’ll head back now. I’ve heard about the Heart-Eating Gu. I won’t disturb you further—just give me the Immortal Sprout. I’ll prepare the antidote tonight."
Yu Zhiling obediently handed over the sprout. "Take care, Senior Sister."
Ning Hengwu tucked the wooden box away, her expression solemn. "Little Five, there’s one more thing I need you to promise me."
Yu Zhiling blinked. "What is it?"
"Stay in this courtyard and rest these next few days. Don’t go out—you’re still recovering."
Mo Zhu, returning with the reheated chicken, overheard this as well.
Yu Zhiling couldn't understand the words, but he could.
He lifted his gaze, his dark eyes meeting Ning Hengwu's, catching the faint shadow of something unreadable lingering in her eyes.
Without overthinking it, Yu Zhiling nodded. "Alright, Senior Sister, don’t worry. I’ll focus on recovering."
Ning Hengwu ruffled her hair again, though her gaze remained icy as it locked with Mo Zhu’s.
"Mo Zhu," she said, "tomorrow, take good care of Little Five. Make absolutely sure she doesn’t leave the courtyard."
Mo Zhu pressed his lips together and gave a silent nod.
He understood the implication behind Ning Hengwu’s words.
With that, Ning Hengwu turned and left.
The courtyard was quiet again, leaving only the two of them.
Yu Zhiling examined the medicinal pill in her hand, uncorking it and taking a whiff—only the faint scent of snow lotus greeted her.
Mo Zhu dragged the small table over, placing the reheated roast chicken on top before retrieving the rest of the dishes and pastries from his qiankun pouch.
Just as he finished setting up and was about to call her to eat, he turned and found her staring intently at him.
"…Master?" Mo Zhu ventured.
Yu Zhiling handed him the medicine. "Take this first."
Mo Zhu: "…"
He nodded. "Alright."
In truth, Ning Hengwu had only left behind a simple sedative—one pill would’ve been enough for him to recognize it.
Yu Zhiling leaned closer. "Is your head feeling any better?"
Mo Zhu: "…Much better."
Yu Zhiling nodded approvingly. "Good. Then we’ll increase the dosage—two pills tomorrow."
Mo Zhu: "…Understood."
She patted his hair gently. "I’ll stay with you the whole time. Don’t worry."
"…Yes, Master."
He raised his eyes, meeting hers with unwavering focus. Even though he knew she still believed something was wrong with him, the undisguised concern in her gaze made his heartbeat quicken—thudding louder and louder, deafening in his ears.
