Children grow up, and teenagers are just like this—especially fond of acting spoiled.
Yu Zhiling gently touched his cheek, pinching the meager flesh on her little disciple’s face.
Damn it, why is he so thin?
Mo Zhu seemed to find her pinching quite pleasant, nuzzling against her palm as he acted coquettish.
"Master, please like me a little more. I’ll work hard."
Yu Zhiling: "Do I not like you enough already?!"
Mo Zhu whined: "No, you don’t like me enough yet."
Yu Zhiling: "You ungrateful little thing."
The ungrateful little thing was thoroughly drunk, pulling her hand to cushion his face as he sprawled over the narrow desk. He mumbled, "Master, I don’t feel so good."
Yu Zhiling: "Of course you don’t. You should’ve stopped when the drink started feeling off."
But Mo Zhu hadn’t stopped.
He wanted to understand why Yu Zhiling liked these things—so spicy and bitter. Wasn’t she supposed to have a sweet tooth?
Yu Zhiling used her other hand to pinch his cheek. "Sleepy? Your master will watch over you."
Mo Zhu didn’t answer. His face was flushed an unnatural red, his gaze hazy and unfocused. Hearing her words, he shook his head.
"Not sleeping. I’ll stay with you, Master."
Yu Zhiling chuckled, shifting with difficulty to lean closer to him. "Why have you been so good to your master lately? Do you have ulterior motives? Tell me what you want, and if I can get it for you, I will."
Mo Zhu lifted his head slightly, his dark, bright eyes fixed on her, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol.
He nuzzled her palm and asked in a low voice, "Anything?"
"Go on. Do you want me to beat someone up for you? Or some divine weapon? Such a well-behaved disciple deserves a reward from his master!"
The little dumpling was too well-behaved. Well-behaved dumplings deserve rewards.
Mo Zhu raised his eyes, gazing quietly at Yu Zhiling, his pupils filled with nothing but her—her smiling face.
"Master, I don’t want those rewards."
"Oh?"
"I want you." Mo Zhu’s voice was barely above a whisper. "I want you to stay by my side forever."
Yu Zhiling: "..."
She pressed a hand to his forehead. "You’re burning up. Do you have a fever? Never mind, I’ll save that reward for later."
"Master, you’re so silly."
Yu Zhiling: "Hey, you brat!"
Mo Zhu lowered his long lashes, resting his head on the back of her hand as he closed his eyes. Of course, he wasn’t feverish.
He knew full well that the heat coursing through him was from the alcohol. The intoxication had taken hold, and now he understood why people said liquor emboldened the heart. His mind was a dizzy mess, far from its usual clarity.
But one thing was crystal clear—every word he’d said was true.
He wanted her to stay with him, always.
His stomach churned uncomfortably, a scorching pain making him wince. Then, her spiritual energy quietly seeped into him. Mo Zhu sensed it but didn’t resist.
Cool, soothing energy flowed through his meridians, easing some of the burning discomfort.
Mo Zhu murmured softly, "Thank you, Master."
She didn’t hear him, too busy sipping her own drink while easing his stomachache. The fruit wine’s alcohol content was low, nothing to someone like Yu Zhiling, who had a high tolerance. After several bottles, she still felt perfectly fine.
But her little disciple had downed three cups of a much stronger brew. Yu Zhiling sighed. She couldn’t completely dispel the effects, but at least she could soothe his stomach.
Mo Zhu lay there for a long while, his breathing so steady that Yu Zhiling almost thought he’d fallen asleep.
She finished her fifth bottle and stole a glance at her motionless disciple, calling softly, "Sweetie?"
No response. He remained sprawled on the table, unmoving.
Yu Zhiling tried again. "Mo Zhu, are you asleep?"
Her little disciple seemed to have finally drifted off.
Yu Zhiling trembled with excitement—he was asleep! Now she could enjoy her own happy life!
"Waiter! Bring me three bottles of peach blossom wine, spicy pickled cabbage, stir-fried spicy meat—"
"Master."
Yu Zhiling: "?"
Mo Zhu stirred, his dark eyes fixed on her as he asked, "What do you want to eat?"
Yu Zhiling: "..."
She was furious.
"Just a little! Do you know what I’ve been through lately? No spice, no alcohol—just chicken soup, fish soup, turtle soup! Why don’t you just turn me into soup instead!"
Mo Zhu, still drunk, asked, "Do you really want it that badly?"
"Just a tiny bit! Second Senior Sister said I should eat less spice, not none at all! My stomach’s fine!"
Yu Zhiling whined, acting spoiled toward her disciple. "Please, Mo Zhu? Sweetie? Good boy? Just a little? It’s hard going from luxury to austerity—I can’t stand that bland stuff!"
Mo Zhu chuckled softly, slowly pushing himself upright before nodding. "Just a little."
"Just a little!"
Mo Zhu stood, swaying slightly. His high ponytail swung with the movement, and Yu Zhiling nearly thought he’d topple over.
"Mo Zhu!"
He braced a hand against the wall, shaking his head to clear it before reassuring her, "I’m fine."
The drunken haze was unpleasant, but she was still hungry. Steadying himself, he headed for the door.
Soon, he returned, this time sitting beside her instead of across the table.
He rested his head on her shoulder, the scent of alcohol mingling with the cool fragrance of sandalwood. Yu Zhiling’s face flushed instantly.
"Mo—Mo Zhu?"
"Master, let me lean on you for a bit. I don’t feel well."
He really didn’t. At seventeen, he’d never touched alcohol before, and this strong brew had hit him hard.
When he felt unwell, he just wanted to be near her—to sit by her side, to breathe in the fresh scent of orange blossoms that seemed to ease his drunkenness.
Yu Zhiling didn’t move. She was already leaning against the windowsill, and though he rested his head on her shoulder, he didn’t put his full weight on her, supporting himself instead. She felt no pressure.
The master hesitated. "Um… my food…?"
Mo Zhu smiled faintly. "Ordered. It’ll be here soon. No peach blossom wine—Master shouldn’t drink anything too strong. I got you fruit wine instead."
Fine. Yu Zhiling could accept that compromise.
She rubbed her cheek against her disciple’s fluffy head. "You’re such a good disciple. Master likes you best!"
Mo Zhu nodded, grinning. "I like Master best too."
Good, he was completely drunk now.
But drunk Mo Zhu was absolutely adorable!
After a short wait, the waiter arrived with a tray. Her food had arrived.
"Miss, your meal is here. The young master requested less spice."
Yu Zhiling: "..."
He’d actually asked for less spice!
Yu Zhiling glared angrily at the young man leaning against her shoulder. From this angle, she could see his distinct eyelashes, his entire demeanor quiet and docile.
Her anger suddenly dissipated.
He... at least he had let her eat spicy food. Back on the mustard seed boat, she hadn’t been allowed even a hint of spice—bad for her recovery.
Yu Zhiling hummed twice and picked up her chopsticks.
"Mo Zhu, I’m digging in!"
He didn’t respond, as if he’d fallen asleep again.
Yu Zhiling cheerfully began devouring her meal.
Mo Zhu wasn’t actually asleep. He could hear every sound of her eating, aware of her hearty appetite. A thought crossed his mind—she was nothing like the Zhuo Yu Immortal Venerable he had known as a child.
The Yu Zhiling who had forgotten those past burdens was carefree, doted on by her senior brothers and sisters, unshackled by crushing responsibilities. She could eat and drink as she pleased, skip cultivation if she wanted.
Perhaps forgetting was for the best.
Mo Zhu secretly lifted his head and saw her puffed-up cheeks. She smiled when the food was delicious, her eyes curving into crescents—so very lovely.
But when he had met her as a child, beyond her untouchable sanctity, what had left the deepest impression was her exhaustion.
A weariness she couldn’t hide, lifeless and silent, sitting motionless for days, her aura cold and oppressive.
"Master."
He spoke abruptly.
Yu Zhiling nearly choked, still chewing as she turned to him in confusion. "What?"
Mo Zhu said softly, "Stay like this forever, alright?"
"Stay like what? Eating forever? Of course I’d love that!" She grinned mischievously. "I still want braised duck and dragon beard candy, but my stomach’s about to burst. To avoid waste, your master has decided to save them for tomorrow!"
Mo Zhu’s expression turned wistful, tinged with sorrow and nostalgia.
"Alright, Master. Just stay like this. This is enough."
Don’t remember. Don’t recall those memories that had tormented her for decades.
No one knew what else Yu Zhiling had witnessed when the Fuchun Immortal Venerable died. Was it really just her death that had driven her to the brink?
She had refused to speak of it, and no one could pry it from her. She had simply succeeded as Zhuo Yu Immortal Venerable, spending her days exterminating evil, hunting that demonic cultivator—cultivating and fighting, nothing else.
Yu Zhiling found him odd and held out a piece of chicken to his lips, mumbling, "Want some?"
Mo Zhu shook his head. "This disciple doesn’t eat."
She popped it into her own mouth instead. "You need to eat more to grow strong. Gotta get married someday, y’know. Hmm... a bride price! Right, your master will prepare one for you. Don’t worry, I’m loaded."
Before she left, she’d make sure he was settled.
Truly, she was the greatest master in the universe!
The smile faded from Mo Zhu’s lips as he rested quietly against her shoulder.
Yu Zhiling, oblivious to the gravity of the moment, chirped, "Touched, huh? No need to thank me."
"Mn."
Mo Zhu responded faintly, the haze of alcohol seeming to lift slightly.
The room was brightly lit—they had chosen the most spacious private chamber. Outside, lanterns floated into the night sky.
Yu Zhiling finally finished her meal and downed the last of her fruit wine. Brewed from pears, the drink left her smelling sweetly of the fruit.
It was now past the Yingshan Sect’s curfew. Going back would mean running into Yan Shanqing.
With no other options, Yu Zhiling cast a quick cleansing spell on herself and poked her little disciple.
"Master’s going to sleep. There’s a couch in the back."
Mo Zhu, still awake, picked her up.
Yu Zhiling asked, "Can you even walk straight?"
He nodded. "I can."
Holding her forced him to stay alert—he couldn’t risk stumbling and dropping her.
Behind the screen was a wide couch. Mo Zhu laid Yu Zhiling down, removed her shoes and outer robe, then pulled a fresh quilt from his qiankun pouch to cover her.
Dizzy, he moved to sit on the floor, but Yu Zhiling grabbed his sleeve. "What’re you doing?"
"Sleeping."
"On the floor?"
"Mn. I’ll keep watch."
Yu Zhiling scooted to the far side, leaving enough space for three people. She patted the edge of the couch. "Sleep here. Got another quilt in that pouch?"
Mo Zhu hesitated. "...Yes."
Yu Zhiling grinned. "Then it’s settled. Sleep tight, kiddo. I’m beat."
Mo Zhu lowered his head, steadying himself. When he looked up again, her eyes were closed, though she wasn’t yet asleep.
Slowly, he undid his belt, shed his outer robe, and lay down carefully in his inner garments at the very edge of the couch.
He hadn’t eaten all day, and the half-jar of wine still churned in his stomach. Yet lying down cleared his head somewhat.
Mo Zhu turned onto his side, not bothering with the quilt, and watched Yu Zhiling as she lay on her back. His heightened senses as a tengu allowed him to catch her scent, the rhythm of her breathing.
She wasn’t drunk at all, yet she fell asleep faster than he did—within minutes, her breaths evened out.
Mo Zhu didn’t move. He watched her for nearly an hour.
Yu Zhiling was a restless sleeper. One of her legs kicked out lazily, draping over his. He wondered if it hurt.
Amused, he shifted closer, reaching out to brush her hair—though he dared only hover above it.
"Master."
No response.
Mo Zhu whispered, "When will you finally understand my feelings?"
He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait. But he was grateful, at least, that she was oblivious to romance—that she felt nothing for Yun Zhi or Wu Zhaoyan.
The heads of the Yun and Wu families, both Great Ascension cultivators, Immortal Venerables of the alliance, her childhood companions—Mo Zhu didn’t need to guess whom Yan Shanqing would prefer. If it came down to a choice between them and him, he couldn’t be sure Yu Zhiling would pick him.
But one thing was certain: Yan Shanqing would never choose a demonic cultivator like him.
He sighed, feeling a faint burn in his meridians. His thunder tribulation was due soon.
"Master, just wait a little longer. I’ll catch up to you. I won’t let you suffer for me."
Yu Zhiling’s response was to roll into his arms, curling up like a contented cat.
Mo Zhu’s heart softened. He poked her nose, earning a frown from his sleeping master.
"Sleep well, Master. Sweet dreams."
"Ah Ling, they’re looking for us."
The woman in red sat by the window, her striking features icy, fingers clenched around the hilt of her blade.
Zhuo Yu poured her a cup of tea, expression unreadable.
"What are your plans?"
"I don’t know."
"What does the Head of the Wen Family say?"
"Grandmother said Chen should take me and the child away from the Nether Sea, and also... the Huiqing Serpent Bangle must not remain in the clan. They came for it. If the bangle stays here, they will eventually find the Nether Sea."
Zhuo Yu said nothing, gazing out the window. The Nether Sea was perpetually blanketed in snow, the flakes melting instantly upon touching the turbulent waters. The sea wind lashed against their faces, chilling to the bone.
Miao Wan pressed her lips together and followed her gaze outside.
"Ah Ling, I don’t want to leave the Nether Sea. My home is there."
Zhuo Yu replied calmly, "As the Head of the Wen Family has spoken, you and Chen should take the child and go. Leave the Nether Sea, head to the Central Continent. I will carve a path for you—I’ll deal with the pursuers."
Miao Wan lowered her head, one hand absently tracing the rim of the teacup on the table. Though her beauty was striking, sorrow clouded her delicate features.
"Will we... be safe?"
"You will. I’ll see you off safely, Ah Wan. You once helped me."
"But once we leave... we may never return."
Zhuo Yu met her eyes, their gazes locking across the space between them.
"Survival is what matters," she said.
Outside, the cold wind howled, the sea roared, and snowflakes swirled endlessly in the air.
Zhuo Yu stood, her expression softening slightly.
"The Nether Sea and the Central Continent have been in turmoil for years. We may encounter assassins, but I’ll handle them. You and Chen must go. Afterward, I’ll find a way to obscure your trail."
She paused, then added, "If you ever face mortal danger, crush this bell. As long as I live, I will come. I owe you a life."
She handed over a silver bell, which Miao Wan accepted.
"Ah Wan, I will help you survive. You must live well—with your husband, your child, your family."
Seventeen years passed in the blink of an eye.
Yu Zhiling slowly opened her eyes, disoriented. The unfamiliar canopy above her bed took a long moment to register—she wasn’t at Listening Spring Cliff. Last night, she and Mo Zhu had stayed at the Eternal Light Pavilion.
She had dreamed again.
She thought she needed to accumulate two thousand merit points before dreaming of Zhuo Yu once more. Yet last night, she had seen her again.
"...Ah Wan?"
She remembered clearly—the woman in red from her memories was named Miao Wan. The name had suddenly come back to her.
At that moment, the door opened, and Mo Zhu entered.
Seeing her awake, he strode over and helped her sit up.
"Master, you’re awake?"
Yu Zhiling leaned against the headboard, her gaze still dazed.
Mo Zhu frowned. "Master, what’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"
Her eyes traveled upward, skimming past the lean lines of his waist before settling on his striking face.
Before, she couldn’t quite picture how much Mo Zhu resembled his mother. But now, having seen it for herself, she understood why Zhuo Yu’s first words upon rescuing him had been—
"You look... so much like your mother."
Mo Zhu and Miao Wan shared the same bold, exquisite features.
"Master?"
Yu Zhiling blinked but didn’t answer his question. Instead, she asked, "Did your mother ever give you a bell?"
Mo Zhu’s expression darkened, his gaze turning shadowed.
"Master... how did you know?"
"Where is the bell now?"
"I crushed it... when I was captured in Northfrost City."
Before leaving home, Miao Wan had entrusted the bell to Mo Zhu.
She had stroked his hair, smiling as she instructed him, "Ah Zhu, if you ever face mortal danger, crush this bell. A celestial will come to save you. You can trust her."
Yu Zhiling’s voice was quiet. "You... crushed it in Northfrost City?"
Mo Zhu nodded. "Yes. At the time, half my bones were shattered. I remembered my mother’s words and crushed it."
But after three days of torment, no celestial came.
Back then, Mo Zhu had assumed his mother had simply been comforting him. He hadn’t been disappointed—just resigned.
Who would ever come to save him?
In this world, one could only rely on oneself.
By the fifth day, his captors lost patience. As he teetered on the brink of death, they prepared to carve out his Tengshe heart while he still breathed.
That was when Zhuo Yu arrived.
Now, realization struck Mo Zhu like lightning.
"Master... that bell summoned you?"
His mother’s words had been true?
Yu Zhiling nodded. "Yes. I dreamed it. I knew your mother. Your grandmother wanted your father to take her away from the Nether Sea."
The Nether Sea lay beyond the Central Continent, a place few dared to inhabit—a land of eternal snow and bitter cold. Most who fled there were fugitives, desperate to evade capture.
So the Tengshe royal family had hidden there all along.
The Tengshe, with their half-divine bloodline, could endure the harsh climate. Even the depths of the sea were survivable for them. It was the perfect refuge—no ordinary person could last a year there, but the Tengshe could.
Mo Zhu’s breath shuddered, his lashes trembling faintly.
Yu Zhiling, however, frowned. "So long ago, someone was already hunting the Nether Sea. They were searching for you, but the sea was vast—easy to get lost in, deadly for outsiders. Yet staying wasn’t safe either. What if they found you?"
"Your grandmother must have wanted your parents to flee to the Central Continent with the Huiqing Serpent Bangle. The Central Continent was under my protection, heavily guarded against demons and monsters. It was the safest place. But the moment you left the Nether Sea, assassins would have pursued you. That’s why your mother must have sought my help. It seems I owed her a debt."
Miao Wan and her family had fled with the bangle, while Zhuo Yu held off their pursuers, carving a bloody path to the Central Continent.
Mo Zhu remained silent.
Yu Zhiling murmured, "Then it seems your mother and I were close."
Zhuo Yu had seemed so kind—why, then, had she treated Mo Zhu so cruelly in the original story?
That was Miao Wan’s child. The child of her friend. She had once crossed the Central Continent to reach the Nether Sea, fighting alone to secure their escape. How could she have turned on him?
Yu Zhiling couldn’t make sense of it.
"Mo Zhu, do you know something—Mo Zhu?"
Instead of answering, the young man pulled her into a searing embrace.
He held her tightly, his chin resting against her shoulder, his breathing ragged.
"Master... Master, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry..."
Yu Zhiling nearly choked from the force of it. "What? What are you apologizing for?"
Mo Zhu only repeated, "I’m sorry... I was wrong..."
He had been so wrong. After crushing the bell and waiting three days in vain, he had cursed himself for clinging to a hollow promise—just his mother’s way of comforting him.
He had never crushed the bell despite countless brushes with death, carefully protecting it all this time, clinging to the possibility of someone who might not even exist. Yet, this was his only hope—the only one who might still stand by him.
As long as the bell remained, there was someone behind him.
So it was…
Her.
Five days. It took her five days to arrive. Where had she been then?
Probably in the Four Slaughter Realm.
For a Great Perfection Realm cultivator to take five days to reach him, she must have come from the southernmost Four Slaughter Realm, which was separated from the northernmost Beiling City by the entire Central Continent.
"Master, I should have recognized you. I'm sorry… I'm truly sorry."
She had rushed all the way from the Four Slaughter Realm just to save him, yet the first time he saw her, he had glared at her with wary hatred, even hurling the stone he clutched in his hand at her.
She never said a word, never mentioned all the things she had done for him.
Mo Zhu held her tightly, and Yu Zhiling coughed lightly.
"You… you rebellious disciple… your master is about to be strangled to death…"
Only then did Mo Zhu loosen his grip. "Master, I'm sorry."
Yu Zhiling feigned another cough. "Your master is on the verge of death by suffocation and now desperately needs some happy water to recover. The fruit wine from last night! Oh, and also some roasted duck—remember to add just a hint of spice if you care about your master. Just a tiny bit, okay?"
She gestured playfully, her mischievous expression nearly bringing tears to his eyes.
"…Alright, alright. Master, whatever you want, you shall have."
Whatever she wanted, he would give her.
Mo Zhu pressed her hand against his cheek before rising to order food for her. He requested a lavish spread, having grown intimately familiar with her tastes after caring for her for so long.
Thus, the master indulged in a grand feast first thing in the morning.
"Mo Zhu, you’re truly your master’s sweetest treasure!"
Her sweet treasure dutifully peeled shrimp and picked out bones for her, looking utterly obedient.
Once she was full and satisfied, Yu Zhiling patted her stomach contentedly.
"Let’s go, back to the Yingshan Sect."
"Alright."
He was so docile it melted her heart. If he were a girl, Yu Zhiling would have already hugged and kissed him twice by now.
After returning to the Listening Spring Cliff, Mo Zhu knelt beside her bed and said softly, "Master, I’ll go practice my sword. I may face my tribulation in a few days."
Yu Zhiling jolted. "You’re about to undergo a tribulation?"
"Yes."
It must be the Nascent Soul tribulation. He had reached the peak of the Golden Core Realm last year. If he succeeded, her merit points would skyrocket, unlocking the second phase of her memories.
Yu Zhiling beamed and ruffled his hair. "Your master will prepare some immortal pills for you these next few days. I’ll stand guard during your tribulation, and after each minor trial, you’ll get a little reward. And when you eventually reach the Ascension Realm, your master will give you a grand reward!"
Mo Zhu grasped her wrist and smiled. "Deal."
Just as Yu Zhiling was about to pull her hand back and sprawl out, the jade token at her waist chimed.
She picked it up, and a gentle voice drifted through.
"Zhuo Yu, Zhao Yan and I are at Sect Leader Yan’s place. Are you free? Let’s have a meal together." Yun Zhi paused before adding, "Zhao Yan bought your favorites—stir-fried pork, roasted duck, and—"
Wu Zhaoyan cut in furiously, "Who said I bought her favorites? I just grabbed whatever!"
Yu Zhiling immediately agreed. "Yes! When and where? I’m coming!"
All her favorite dishes!
Even though she had just eaten, Yu Zhiling could still devour an entire cow right now.
Yun Zhi replied, "If you’re free, you can come now."
The call ended, and Yu Zhiling excitedly patted Mo Zhu’s shoulder.
"Mo Zhu, Mo Zhu, take me there now!"
Mo Zhu lifted his gaze, his eyes cold and shadowed.
"Master, you really want to go?"
"Of course! I haven’t seen them in so long. It’s just a quick visit."
"Just a visit?"
"Obviously."
Mo Zhu lowered his eyes.
His throat tightened, an uncontrollable bitterness rising in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t overthink it, yet Ning Hengwu’s words echoed relentlessly in his mind.
Ning Hengwu had said Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan were better suited for her.
Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan were still unmarried, both esteemed immortals of the Central Continent. They had grown up together. Even if the current Yu Zhiling—with her lost memories—didn’t love them, what about the Yu Zhiling before?
Had there really been no feelings at all?
He didn’t know.
And because he didn’t know, the fear gnawed at him deeper.
"Master, you said earlier that when your disciple reaches the Ascension Realm, you’ll grant him a grand reward."
Yu Zhiling nodded cheerfully. "That’s right!"
The book said it would take him ten years, but judging by his progress now, he’d likely reach Ascension much sooner. Then her mission would be complete!
"If it’s a grand reward, can your disciple ask for anything?"
"Anything! Your master will give you anything!"
"No take-backs?"
"I swear on my honor—no take-backs!"
Mo Zhu met her gaze and suddenly smiled. "Good."
She said it herself—anything he wanted, she would give.
