After Transmigrating as the Villainous Master of the Male Lead Chapter 31

Mo Zhu remained half-kneeling before her as she sat, her gaze level with his.

He said nothing, his striking features blurred in the candlelight.

Yu Zhiling wasn’t afraid of him in the slightest. She asked again, “Are you going to talk or not? Mo Zhu, I’m asking you one last time—what is the Huíqīng Serpent Bangle? What are you investigating? What happened to you as a child? Tonight, you’re going to tell me everything, piece by piece.”

She paused, her heart heavy with suppressed anger and bitterness as she met the boy’s unreadable eyes.

“Mo Zhu, if you don’t speak now, my Tingchun Cliff has no place for someone as lofty as you.”

Mo Zhu’s lashes fluttered slightly, his throat working. “…Shizun, what do you mean?”

Yu Zhiling’s voice was icy. “Do I need to spell it out? I don’t need a disciple who lies to me, hides things from me, and might stab me in the back at any moment. And I certainly don’t need you to take care of me.”

Mo Zhu suddenly lowered his head. From Yu Zhiling’s angle, she could see his trembling hands—not just his hands, but his shoulders too. His breathing grew ragged.

Hesitantly, he reached out, fingers barely grazing the back of her hand before she harshly jerked away.

“Shizun… please, don’t be like this…”

Mo Zhu’s voice shook, hoarse and choked as if he were on the verge of tears.

Yu Zhiling was angrier than him, more aggrieved than him. She had never raised her voice at him before, but now, all the frustration she’d bottled up since arriving in this world erupted. Her tone sharpened.

“Mo Zhu, you’re scared? You’re upset? Do you think you’re more wronged or afraid than I am? I know nothing! Everyone dumps their disappointment and resentment on me. Those things from the past—they weren’t even—”

Her voice cut off abruptly.

Yu Zhiling bit her lower lip, taking a deep breath.

Could she say it? Did she dare? To claim that none of those past actions were hers? Yet ever since coming to this world, so many people had judged her, scorned her for things she hadn’t done.

Suddenly, she shoved him away hard. “If you won’t talk, then get out! Leave tonight! I hate people like you—keeping everything bottled up like you’re so impressive! If you can figure it all out on your own, then go do it! The Yingshan Sect doesn’t need you!”

The violent motion tugged at her meridians, sending a sharp pain through her body. Her face paled instantly.

Mo Zhu lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her. “Shizun, Shizun, I was wrong! I’ll talk, I’ll tell you everything!”

She said she didn’t want him. She said she hated him. Panic flooded him all at once, and when he saw her face turn deathly white, he was utterly frantic.

Mo Zhu held her tightly, his height perfectly aligning with hers as he buried his chin in the crook of her neck.

“I’ll really tell you. I’ll say everything. Shizun, please don’t move. Don’t say those things… don’t say you don’t want me. Please, Shizun.”

His words were disjointed, desperate. Yu Zhiling, trapped in his embrace, stopped struggling and closed her eyes, breathing heavily.

Her meridians ached terribly, and the pain only made her feel more wronged.

Mo Zhu tightened his hold, pressing his face into her neck, his heart too chaotic to calm. He was terrified she’d truly cast him aside, and even more afraid that her agitation would strain her injuries further.

Yu Zhiling didn’t speak, her breathing gradually steadying. She wiped her tears against his collar and muttered, “Talk. If you don’t explain everything tonight, pack your things and leave.”

She didn’t really mean it—she had no intention of truly abandoning him. But he took it seriously, all his reservations crumbling in fear.

“Alright, I’ll tell you now. Shizun, don’t move. If you’re angry, you can hit me after you’ve recovered.”

Mo Zhu held her quietly for a moment, ensuring her breathing had evened out and she wouldn’t lash out again, before carefully releasing her.

When he turned his head, he saw the redness at the corners of her eyes. Her tears burned like fire against his chest, his throat tightening until even breathing felt difficult.

He had made her cry.

Mo Zhu’s hand trembled as he reached up, gently brushing away the tear tracks on her face.

Yu Zhiling turned her head to avoid his touch, her voice muffled. “Don’t touch me. Just talk.”

His fingers curled slightly before he withdrew his hand. “…Alright.”

Still half-kneeling before her, his gaze dropped to the Huíqīng Serpent Bangle on her wrist. He reached out and touched it.

The previously dull bangle suddenly glowed brightly. Yu Zhiling felt nothing, but the sound of sizzling flesh made her whip her head around—only to see Mo Zhu gripping the bangle.

“Let go, Mo Zhu!”

Her heart leaped into her throat as she grabbed his wrist and lifted it. His palm was already burned bloody.

“What are you doing?! Are you insane?!”

Yu Zhiling clasped his injured hand, channeling spiritual energy to heal the wound.

Mo Zhu watched her frantic concern, the turmoil in his chest gradually settling.

Good. She still cared. She wouldn’t cast him aside.

He gently pulled his hand free, only to take hers in return.

“Mo Zhu!”

“It’s fine, Shizun. It’ll heal soon. Didn’t you want me to explain the Huíqīng Serpent Bangle?”

“I didn’t mean for you to do it like this!”

“Shizun, this is the only way.” Mo Zhu’s voice softened. “The Huíqīng Serpent Bangle is a defensive artifact—a treasure of the Flying Serpent lineage. It has a spirit, and it chooses its master. In critical moments, it can protect you. See? It harmed me just now. That’s why I insisted you wear it. I wasn’t deliberately deceiving you.”

Yu Zhiling blinked in confusion. “Why did it choose me?”

Mo Zhu shook his head. “I don’t know. My parents once said the Huíqīng Serpent Bangle only acknowledges Flying Serpents as its masters. I don’t understand why it accepted you.”

Yu Zhiling hesitated. “…Your parents?”

She asked carefully, already guessing the answer—Mo Zhu’s parents were likely gone. She didn’t want to hurt him further.

Mo Zhu’s expression remained calm as he cradled her hands in his. “My parents were of the Flying Serpent royal bloodline. My grandfather was the previous demon king. Many years ago, the Flying Serpent royal family fell. My grandfather died in battle, and my grandmother fled with my father, who was just a child then. About twenty or thirty others escaped with them. Later, my mother married my father, and I was born. But when I was five, my grandmother was killed—trapped in the Barren Slaughter Array.”

Yu Zhiling pressed her lips together, her eyes darkening.

Mo Zhu paused, though none of the grief she feared surfaced. He continued, “My clan was hunted down again. At the time, my parents were traveling with me. My father went to aid them… and died in battle. My mother took up his sword and followed. She never returned either. They left me in a mountain village. The Huíqīng Serpent Bangle was with me, so I took it and ran.”

Yu Zhiling asked cautiously, "You... were being hunted?"

"Mm." Mo Zhu nodded. "At first, they didn’t know my parents had a child. They were only investigating the Huiqing Serpent Bangle. Later, they traced it back to me and have been hunting me ever since. So I kept running."

Yu Zhiling pressed her lips together and murmured, "The Huiqing Serpent Bangle... is it that important to you? If you hadn’t taken it, they wouldn’t have known your parents had a child. Maybe they wouldn’t have come after you?"

Mo Zhu knew that too. His gaze fell on the bangle around Yu Zhiling’s wrist.

"It’s important. The Huiqing Serpent Bangle isn’t just a defensive weapon—it’s an ancient artifact with immeasurable power. Before they left, my parents told me to protect it at all costs. It must be significant."

Yu Zhiling fell silent. She had worn the bangle for so long, yet it had never shown any extraordinary power. It lay dormant, like an ordinary piece of jewelry.

The wound on Mo Zhu’s palm had already healed, leaving only a faint scar. He pressed her hand against his cheek, nuzzling it like a child seeking comfort. "Master, you should keep wearing it. Once it recognizes a master, no one else can sense its spiritual imprint. No one will trace it back to you."

The Flying Serpent clan’s treasure—coveted by so many. Even if Mo Zhu didn’t understand why his parents had ordered him to guard it with his life, he knew the Huiqing Serpent Bangle held power countless desired.

Since it had chosen Yu Zhiling as its master, perhaps one day, that power would serve her, becoming her greatest weapon.

Yu Zhiling stayed quiet for a moment, then gently stroked Mo Zhu’s face. The corners of the boy’s lips lifted at her touch, his joy evident.

She smiled faintly, softening her voice. "Then... how did I save you when you were little?"

Mo Zhu met her gaze, warmth swirling in his eyes.

"When I was seven, the hunters finally caught up to me. I’d been fleeing with the bangle for a long time. They cornered me in Beiling City, shattered half my bones, severed my tendons, and demanded to know how to make the Huiqing Serpent Bangle recognize a master. But how would I know?"

He chuckled, recounting the brutality as if it had happened to someone else.

Yu Zhiling’s heart clenched, a pang of sorrow tightening her chest.

Mo Zhu continued, still smiling faintly. "I was stubborn back then. I refused to say a word. So they cut open my chest, ready to take my Flying Serpent heart. Master, did you know? Every part of a Flying Serpent is precious. Our scales can forge divine weapons, and our hearts can help cultivators leap through realms. After my clan perished, they must have been skinned, dismembered, and hollowed out."

Yu Zhiling’s pupils constricted. Her hand on his cheek trembled uncontrollably.

"Mo Zhu..."

His voice remained steady. "There’s no need to grieve. What’s done cannot be undone. Back then, I thought I’d end up the same way. But then... you came."

Just as they were about to rip out his still-beating heart—she arrived.

A single sword stroke sent a storm of leaves swirling through the forest, each blade sharpened by her qi into a lethal weapon.

She only needed three strikes. Three strikes to slay dozens of Nascent Soul and even Divine Transformation realm experts.

Then she turned, her gaze falling on the broken boy gasping on the ground.

Mo Zhu had expected her to take his heart, strip his bones, peel his scales, and claim the bangle.

But she didn’t.

Gritting his teeth, he forced his mangled body upright, eyes blazing with defiance. If she took one step closer, he’d sink his teeth into her—make her hurt before he died.

Yet when she looked at him, her expression softened, as if remembering someone. She murmured, "You... look so much like your mother."

While he was still stunned, she reached out.

"Child, will you come with me?"

For a year, he’d been running—no home, no rest, no safety. The young master who once wanted for nothing now wore tattered robes, slept with one eye open, and dragged his wounded body across the vast Central Continent, where not an inch of land belonged to him.

His path had no direction, no end. Survival was the only goal. He never knew when death would come. No one had ever helped him.

Logically, trusting her might have been his downfall.

But in that moment, seeing her gentle eyes, her pristine green robes, her hair loosely tied back like an immortal descended from the heavens—

He reached out.

Then, noticing his own bloodied, grimy hand, he hesitated. He wiped it frantically on his clothes before timidly placing it in hers.

Yu Zhiling bent down and lifted him into her arms. The moment he leaned against her shoulder, the tears he’d held back for a year finally fell.

Perhaps sensing safety at last, he passed out, sinking into a long, long dream.

When he woke, the green-robed immortal sat by his bedside.

Her face was pale, exhaustion etched into her features. Yet when she saw him stir, she smiled softly and whispered,

"You’re awake?"

Mo Zhu didn’t understand why she seemed so drained, her voice weak.

Still, she took his hand and asked, "Would you like to return to the Yingshan Sect with me? To become my disciple—the disciple of Immortal Lord Zhuoyu?"

That was when he learned her identity.

The strongest in the Central Continent. Immortal Lord Zhuoyu—Yu Zhiling.

Ten years had passed in the blink of an eye.

Now, the Listening Spring Cliff was silent.

Mo Zhu smiled. "Master, that’s the story. You saved me."

Yu Zhiling tilted her head back, taking a deep breath. She’d wanted to know the truth, but now that she did, her chest felt heavier.

If what he said was true—losing his parents at five, hunted for two years, saved by Immortal Lord Zhuoyu only to face another hell—did he ever regret it when she flayed him?

She looked at him, at the unwavering trust and devotion in his eyes, and suddenly scolded, "Are you stupid?"

Mo Zhu blinked. "Huh?"

"I treated you so horribly. Why didn’t you run?"

Her eyes were red, on the verge of tears.

Mo Zhu’s throat bobbed, but he didn’t let go of her hand. Instead, he nuzzled her palm again.

"Master, it wasn’t your fault."

He studied her face—the face he’d revered since childhood.

Yu Zhiling muttered again, "Idiot. Why didn’t you run?"

Why didn’t he?

Partly, it was because he needed to find the Huiqing Serpent Bangle. And he thought she knew where it was.

Yet he couldn’t ignore the secret thoughts buried in his heart. He’d had countless chances to leave, but time and again, his mind wandered back to those seven days they’d spent together.

They had only been together for seven days. She had cared for him with unusual tenderness—preparing meals for him with her own hands, staying awake all night to watch over him when his childhood nightmares resurfaced.

She had promised, "Once I return from the Slaughter Realm, we’ll form a master-disciple bond." The way she looked at him was filled with affection and protectiveness.

He had to admit—there had been reluctance in his heart.

Later, that reluctance was drowned by hatred. He wanted to kill her.

But the deeper reason for that desire was that she had tainted herself with her own hands. If he killed her, he could still deceive himself into believing she remained the person he’d first met—that she had merely strayed briefly, and death would ensure she never erred again.

Mo Zhu murmured softly, "Shizun, you truly did nothing wrong."

The fault lay with him—with his ignorance, his failure to recognize her.

Yu Zhiling’s chest tightened painfully. One of her hands was clasped in his, so she lifted the other to gently stroke his hair.

Mo Zhu nuzzled obediently into her palm.

They stayed quiet for a while, her emotions gradually settling. She wiped her tears and asked, "Did I know your mother?"

Mo Zhu nodded. "It seems so. But back then, Shizun only mentioned being an old acquaintance of hers. You never told me anything else."

Now that Yu Zhiling had lost her memories again, she knew even less.

Seeing her distress, Mo Zhu reassured her, "Shizun, there’s no need to dwell on the past. It’s over. Your memories will return in time."

Yu Zhiling studied his face, then suddenly frowned. "Wait—you still haven’t told me what you’ve been investigating. Why keep it from me?"

She was bristling again. Mo Zhu sighed.

"Someone from the Central Continent has been hunting me. During those three years I spent eliminating evil spirits, most of my time was actually spent tracking these people. But… I found nothing. Every captive I took chose death over betrayal—they were all trained to die rather than speak. I couldn’t even attempt a soul search. That’s why I focused on finding the Whirling Serpent Bracelet first."

His expression darkened as he continued, "It wasn’t until Elder Ning performed the soul search on Chang Xun that I saw the demonic cultivator in his memories. That man… he was the leader of the group that hunted me all those years ago. When you arrived, he fled, and you stayed to save me instead of chasing him."

Their eyes met, the gravity of the situation reflected in both gazes.

Yu Zhiling’s voice turned icy. "Are you saying… he’s connected to your parents’ deaths as well?"

"Yes. He’s tied to the massacre of the Flying Serpent clan. My grandmother died in the Eight Blades Killing Array. My father and mother went to reinforce the clan, but neither returned. After that, he led the hunt for me."

Yu Zhiling’s heart sank. "Back then, he pursued you for the Whirling Serpent Bracelet?"

"...Mn."

The pieces fell into place. Immortal Lord Zhuoyu had been hunting the demonic cultivator, who in turn had been hunting Mo Zhu. Perhaps Zhuoyu had stumbled upon the demonic cultivator’s trail and arrived just in time to find Mo Zhu on the brink of death.

She had recognized him—both as a descendant of the Flying Serpents and as the child of an old friend.

Yu Zhiling tightened her grip on his hand, her voice sharp with resolve. "Don’t worry. Once Shizun recovers, I’ll hunt him down myself. He’s dared to harm those close to me again and again—he deserves death."

Whether for Immortal Fuchun or for her little disciple, that demonic cultivator had made himself her enemy.

Her fighting spirit blazed, protective instincts roaring to life.

Mo Zhu watched her for a long moment, lips curving into a faint smile. Then he stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace.

He buried his face against her neck, nuzzling her cheek, and murmured with quiet devotion, "Shizun, this disciple can fight by your side too. Being able to do something for you… it makes me truly happy. I really…"

His voice was soft, words whispered against her ear.

"…really love you, Shizun."

Yu Zhiling fell silent.

As Mo Zhu’s heart pounded nervously, she suddenly let out a muffled sound and hugged him back, rubbing her face against his shoulder as if wiping away nonexistent tears. "Good boy, Shizun loves you too. You’ll always be Shizun’s precious baby."

Mo Zhu exhaled soundlessly. After so many disappointments, he’d developed a resilient heart.

His foolish Shizun still didn’t understand his meaning.

He glanced at her sidelong, catching only the sight of her rubbing her cheek against the silver bamboo embroidery on his shoulder, her face flushed pink from the friction. She was grinning, bright and carefree.

Silly. But undeniably endearing.

Mo Zhu leaned in slightly, brushing his lips against her ear in a fleeting touch.

"Shizun."

"Mn, mn."

"I really do love you."

Yu Zhiling patted his back. "Shizun loves you too, good boy."

If she wouldn’t call him "little brat," surely "good boy" was acceptable!

Mo Zhu sighed.

He stepped back, releasing her from the embrace, then knelt before her again.

"Then will you still chase this disciple away? Everything I said was true. I kept it from you because… I didn’t want you entangled in danger. And I didn’t want you worrying over my troubles."

She had already spent years exhausting herself over Immortal Fuchun’s death. Mo Zhu refused to burden her further.

Yu Zhiling recalled her earlier scolding and felt a twinge of guilt, though her expression remained defiant.

"Was I wrong to scold you? You hid things from me first! I was worried sick!"

Mo Zhu took her hand and pressed it to his cheek—a gesture he often used when coaxing her.

"This disciple was wrong. I’ll never hide anything from Shizun again, alright?"

"Hmph."

"Shizun, forgive me. Don’t send me away, please?"

"...I wasn’t really going to." Yu Zhiling mumbled. "How could you believe that?"

"But this disciple was terrified, Shizun."

Seeing his pitiful expression, her heart softened. She pinched his cheeks and tugged playfully.

"Serves you right! Next time you keep secrets, I’ll throw you straight out of Listening Spring Cliff!"

Mo Zhu didn’t mind at all. Her pinches were feather-light, so he let her pull at his face freely, even nodding along.

"Understood, Shizun."

After amusing herself for a while—tugging his cheeks, playing with his ponytail—Yu Zhiling’s anger had mostly dissipated. She spread her arms.

"Now, Shizun is hungry. Take me somewhere nice to eat."

Mo Zhu lifted her effortlessly. "What would Shizun like?"

Yu Zhiling tilted her head, pondering seriously for a moment, then gave his cheek another squeeze.

"Let’s go down the mountain. We won’t return tonight—just the two of us. We’ll feast and not tell your shixiong and shijie."

Under the moonlight, her eyes sparkled. The usual coolness of her features had warmed with frequent smiles.

Once again, Mo Zhu’s treacherous heart skipped a beat.

His voice came out rougher than intended. "...We’re not coming back tonight?"

Yu Zhiling nodded eagerly. "Yeah, let's go eat something nice. The Changming Tower at the foot of Yingshan Sect releases sky lanterns on full moon nights—and tonight just happens to be one! Their wine is amazing too. We’ll book a big private room, drink some wine, snack on desserts, and play cards!"

Mo Zhu frowned slightly. "Master, your health hasn’t fully recovered yet. You shouldn’t drink too much."

Yu Zhiling held up a finger. "Just a little, just a tiny bit! It’s low alcohol, it’ll be fine."

She was practically drooling at the thought. Mo Zhu hesitated for a moment, and Yu Zhiling immediately deployed her ultimate tactic.

"Good Mo Zhu, sweet Mo Zhu, please say yes? Just a little sip, just one little sip, okay? Hmm? Please? If you don’t agree, I’ll crawl all the way there—I’ll crawl from Tingchun Cliff! I won’t sleep tonight!"

She alternated between whining and threats, her voice so sweet it could melt ears. Mo Zhu’s resolve weakened, half his body going numb from her pleading. He couldn’t help but smile.

"Fine. Just a little?"

"Just a little!"

Mo Zhu carried Yu Zhiling as they sneaked out of Tingchun Cliff.

Yingshan Sect was located in a bustling area, with Chunfeng City sprawled at its base. The tallest building in the city was Changming Tower, where the young Immortal Lord Zhuoyu had often sneaked off to drink in his childhood—something Yu Zhiling had heard about many times from Yan Shanqing, who’d caught him red-handed more than once.

By the time Mo Zhu returned from buying a sky lantern, his dear master had already ordered wine.

The young man stood frozen at the door, staring at the table—one jar, two jars…

Six jars of wine.

Mo Zhu sighed. "Master, you said just a little."

Yu Zhiling popped open a cork and grinned. "I said a tiny bit—gotcha, little dumpling!"

The innocent dumpling had been fooled yet again.

Mo Zhu moved to confiscate the jars, but Yu Zhiling clung to them protectively.

She glared up at him. "If you dare take my wine, I’ll stay awake for three days straight and drop dead right in front of you!"

Mo Zhu: "…?"

He tried reasoning with her. "Elder Ning said you shouldn’t drink too much lately. She’ll be furious if she finds out."

Yu Zhiling protested loudly. "I just injured my meridians, it’s not like I took antibiotics! Why can’t I drink? And she said ‘not too much,’ not ‘none at all!’"

Mo Zhu: "…Master, this is too much."

Yu Zhiling hugged the jars stubbornly. "It’s fruit wine! Fruit wine! The alcohol content is low, and we can’t let it go to waste!"

"Master…"

Seeing that Mo Zhu wasn’t backing down, Yu Zhiling pointed decisively out the window. "You! Go release a lantern for me!"

Realizing persuasion was futile, Mo Zhu deftly plucked three jars from her arms and grinned. "How about this? Your disciple has been working hard lately. I’ll take these three, and you can share the rest with me. Deal?"

Yu Zhiling’s face twisted in agony as she tried bargaining. "What if I order three more for you? You’re still young, drinking isn’t good—"

Mo Zhu narrowed his eyes.

Yu Zhiling immediately backtracked. "No, no, you’re all grown up! Adults have every right to drink. Bottoms up!"

Little brat. The moment she mentioned his age, he got prickly!

After the commotion, Yu Zhiling’s six jars of fruit wine had dwindled to three. Adults had rights, but hers had been revoked.

Miserable, she uncorked a jar and took a long swig. Wine drowned sorrows.

Damn, it was delicious!

Her gaze drifted longingly to the three jars beside Mo Zhu, but a single glance from him sent her shrinking back.

Grumbling, she muttered, "Fine, fine, they’re yours. Whoever doesn’t finish theirs today is a coward!"

She hadn’t drunk much in her past life, but after hearing from Yan Shanqing about Immortal Lord Zhuoyu’s legendary tolerance, she’d indulged freely in this world—gaining a deep appreciation for his capacity.

Immortal Lord Zhuoyu was terrifyingly strong in every way.

Mo Zhu chuckled at her antics. Noticing the lanterns floating outside, he remembered her request.

Placing the newly purchased lantern on the table, he asked, "Master, what do you want to write?"

Yu Zhiling looked up. "Why did you only buy one?"

Mo Zhu paused. "This disciple has no wishes. Only yours needs releasing."

Yu Zhiling frowned. "Go buy another one. If you don’t have a wish, make one up."

Mo Zhu had no choice but to head downstairs again—taking his three jars with him.

Yu Zhiling: "…"

Hey, you little—! Did he think she’d steal his wine? Was Yu Zhiling that kind of person?!

Annoyed, she scribbled her wish onto the lantern. By the time he returned with a second one, she was done.

Clutching her lantern, she beamed at him. "I’m finished. Write yours, and we’ll release them together."

Mo Zhu sat across from her, staring at the small lantern for a long time, unsure what to write.

The sound of her gulping wine filled the air as she lounged lazily against the windowsill, one hand holding a jar, the other propping up her chin.

His gaze lingered on her.

Then, he knew.

The young man picked up the brush, carefully tracing each stroke.

Yu Zhiling tilted her head. "Done?"

Mo Zhu averted his eyes. "…Mm."

She handed him her lantern. "Light mine too."

Mo Zhu ignited both lanterns, returning hers without peeking—her secret remained hers alone.

Side by side, the two lanterns rose, disappearing into the sea of a hundred others, their glow fading into the distance.

Yu Zhiling, now on her second jar, was cracking open the third.

Head lowered, she murmured, "Mo Zhu, don’t you want to ask what I wished for?"

Mo Zhu countered, "Then, Master, do you want to know mine?"

She looked up, blinking playfully. "Even if you asked, I wouldn’t tell. And I won’t ask yours either. Saying it now would ruin the magic. We’ll reveal them three years from today—June 9th. Remember that."

Mo Zhu’s eyes curved into a smile. "Okay. Three years from today, June 9th, I’ll tell you too."

He hoped, by then, his wish would have come true.

Yu Zhiling continued drinking, savoring the last jar with unusual care. But all wine eventually ran dry.

The greedy master then set her sights on the innocent dumpling beside her. A hand crept stealthily across the table, inching toward his jars.

Biting back a grin, she was just about to make off with one when a soft laugh sounded.

A hand clamped down over hers.

Yu Zhiling: "…"

Yu Zhiling: "!!!"

She struck first. "I’ll just take one jar! Only one! You’re too young to drink so much—"

The rest of her words died in her throat.

Yu Zhiling remained expressionless: "Honestly, you’re never drinking again."

He was utterly—pathetically weak!

Mo Zhu’s face was flushed red, his eyes crinkling with laughter as his gaze lingered on her hand. The dark wine bottle contrasted sharply with her fair, delicate fingers.

He murmured softly, "Shizun."

"Speak."

"You’re so beautiful, like a celestial maiden."

Yu Zhiling: "Thanks for the compliment."

A drunkard’s words couldn’t be trusted.

Heartless as ever, Shizun showed no sympathy. Taking advantage of her disciple’s muddled state, she wrenched her hand free and swiped the two remaining bottles of wine from his table.

Mo Zhu propped his chin on one hand, staring at her motionlessly before murmuring again, "Shizun."

Yu Zhiling was already on her fourth jug of "happy water" for the day.

She grinned at him. "What is it?"

Mo Zhu said, "It’s my first time drinking. I’ve never had alcohol before."

Yu Zhiling nodded. "I can tell. Our little disciple used to be so well-behaved. Now that you’ve tried it, isn’t it delicious? This is fruit wine, you know."

Mo Zhu shook his head. "Not really. It’s a bit bitter… and spicy."

Yu Zhiling: "…Bullshit. It’s clearly sweet."

Mo Zhu smiled. "But mine tastes bitter."

Yu Zhiling snatched the jug from his arms and took a defiant sip.

Yu Zhiling: "…Seems like they gave you the wrong one. This isn’t fruit wine."

It was pure, high-proof "Three-Cup Drunk."

Mo Zhu: "Hmm… then what do we do?"

What do we do? He’d already downed half the jug!

Yu Zhiling said earnestly, "It’s fine. Just sleep it off. Be good and rest—there’s a couch in the back."

Once he was asleep, Shizun could drink to her heart’s content. Ten more jugs, even!

Mo Zhu rested his chin on his hand, his dizzy gaze fixed on her. The small table between them was so close that he could reach out and touch her face.

"Shizun."

"Mhm, sleep well, my dear."

Shizun still wanted spicy stir-fried cabbage and an even stronger peach blossom wine!

Mo Zhu knew he was drunk. His mind was hazy, filled only with thoughts of her. His eyes saw nothing but her—her sly, smiling eyes, so vivid, so alive.

What had he done to deserve being saved by her, to be brought back here?

Mo Zhu whispered, "Shizun, can you… not like Immortal Fuchun or Immortal Zhaoyan?"

Yu Zhiling: "?"

Yu Zhiling deadpanned: "Shizun could also just become a nun. No ‘Shiniang’ for you."

Mo Zhu shook his head and murmured, "You’re allowed to like someone."

"…So you think Fuchun and Zhaoyan aren’t good enough?"

"They’re not worthy of Shizun."

Yu Zhiling chuckled. "Of course not. Shizun is the most stunning beauty in the Central Continent, unmatched by anyone."

Mo Zhu nodded. "Right. I’m not worthy of Shizun either."

Yu Zhiling: "…What?"

Mo Zhu lifted his head, looking at her. "But Shizun, I’ll work hard."

Yu Zhiling: "…"