Yu Zhiling didn’t want to talk to him. She lay down and pulled the quilt over herself, her voice muffled. "I'm sleepy."
The implication was clear—she wanted him to leave and give her, her master, some space to sleep in peace.
But Mo Zhu didn’t leave. He stood inside the room, his gaze fixed on the lump under the embroidered quilt—his beloved master, now choosing to be a cowardly turtle retreating into its shell. If it were any other matter, he might have obediently turned and walked away.
But not this time.
Mo Zhu lowered his eyes slightly, silent, his hands clenched tightly at his sides.
Should he say it?
He hadn’t planned to tell her so soon. He was acutely aware of the gap between them and didn’t believe he was worthy of her yet. He had only wanted to get closer, to let her vaguely sense his feelings, to make her pay a little more attention to him.
But he had never intended to confess outright, to lay his heart bare before her.
And yet…
There was someone else in her heart—someone he didn’t know.
Gui. Someone who mattered deeply to her.
Mo Zhu lifted his gaze. She was still curled up under the quilt, likely overheating, as her feet peeked out from beneath the covers, wiggling slightly to cool off. She had many little habits when she was nervous, and Mo Zhu knew them all.
Yu Zhiling had waited for what felt like an eternity, but Mo Zhu still hadn’t left. The sweltering heat of June was unbearable under the thick quilt, turning it into a suffocating furnace. She cursed him inwardly—why wouldn’t he just go already?
She was going to die of heatstroke at this rate!
Then, footsteps sounded.
Yu Zhiling’s heart leapt—was he finally leaving?
But the footsteps didn’t retreat. Instead, they grew closer, until the mattress beside her dipped slightly under someone’s weight.
Yu Zhiling: "!"
This rebellious disciple!
Mo Zhu tugged at the corner of her quilt, and before she could react, he had already pulled it back, freeing her from the stifling heat.
Yu Zhiling: "..."
Mo Zhu reached out, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Despite his usual fastidiousness, he didn’t seem to mind her damp skin, carefully dabbing away the moisture.
"Master, are you hot?"
Yu Zhiling shot him a glare. "That’s like asking a chef what his job is."
Couldn’t he see the sweat pouring down her face?
Mo Zhu chuckled, using his sleeve to wipe the sweat from her cheeks and neck.
With her protective shell stripped away, Yu Zhiling felt as exposed as if she were standing naked in public. She sprawled out, fanning herself with her hands, then glared at Mo Zhu again.
Mo Zhu remained silent, continuing to wipe her sweat patiently. The prolonged silence eventually made Yu Zhiling uncomfortable. She stopped fanning herself and pulled a corner of the quilt over her stomach.
Mo Zhu smiled. "Not hot anymore?"
Yu Zhiling muttered, "You wouldn’t understand. No matter how hot it is, you have to cover your belly button when you sleep."
Where she got these strange ideas, Mo Zhu had no clue. But after finishing his task, he still didn’t leave. Instead, he sat by the bed, watching her.
Yu Zhiling: "...Why aren’t you leaving?"
Mo Zhu replied, "I want to talk to you, Master."
Yu Zhiling: "...Master doesn’t want to listen."
Mo Zhu: "But this disciple has something to say."
Yu Zhiling was stunned. "You’re not even listening to me anymore!"
Mo Zhu’s lips curved slightly. "I’ll listen to you in all things, Master. But I also want you to listen to me for once."
Damn it, why did he have to phrase it so smoothly?
Yu Zhiling was left speechless.
Mo Zhu’s smile faded then.
"Master."
"...What?"
"Miss Liu told you something, didn’t she?"
Yu Zhiling pursed her lips, forcing out a reluctant, "Mhm."
There was no point in lying. Mo Zhu was perceptive, and his refusal to leave made it clear he had already noticed something was off.
A heavy silence settled between them, the room growing still. Yu Zhiling didn’t know what to say, and Mo Zhu seemed to be wrestling with whether he should speak at all.
The quiet stretched on so long that even the night breeze drifting through the room cooled Yu Zhiling’s flushed skin.
Finally, Mo Zhu stirred.
"From the moment I could remember," he began, his voice steady, "my parents and I were always hiding across the Central Continent. I didn’t know what they were running from, but I knew they often fought others. My parents were powerful cultivators, and there always seemed to be someone helping us from the shadows. We kept moving like that until I was five."
Yu Zhiling was momentarily confused—why was he telling her this?
Mo Zhu sat beside her, one seated, one lying down, master and disciple close yet distant.
The young man kept his gaze lowered, his expression calm.
"Then, when I was five, we received news that the Nether Sea had been attacked. My grandmother died in battle. My father went back to help, but all that returned was his bloodstained sword, delivered by a minor demon. I was terrified."
Yu Zhiling’s guard lowered slightly. She pressed her lips together but remained silent, listening.
"I begged my mother not to leave me. I knew my father was dead. I knelt and pleaded with her, but she still left. Without hesitation. Without looking back."
Mo Zhu’s tone was detached, as if recounting someone else’s story.
"Back then, I couldn’t understand. Why would they throw their lives away when they knew it was hopeless?" Mo Zhu met her eyes. "Why could they die for others but not live for me?"
Yu Zhiling saw the emptiness in his gaze. He wasn’t asking her—he was asking himself.
Her lips parted. "Mo Zhu, everyone has different priorities. Choosing between family and duty is never easy—"
"Master."
Mo Zhu cut her off. He had heard all the platitudes before—that the strong bore greater responsibilities, that cultivators must uphold the Dao even at the cost of their lives, that fear of death was cowardice.
"But to me, my parents mattered more. And you matter just as much. I would live for the people I care about. I want to protect those who are important to me."
Yu Zhiling’s heart skipped a beat.
"M-Mo Zhu..."
Mo Zhu continued softly, "When Immortal Fuchun died, did you ever think about hiding her? Even if sheltering a demonic cultivator would bring disaster to the Central Continent… did you consider it?"
Yu Zhiling’s breath turned cold.
Of course she had. In her dreams, she had been Zhuo Yu, and she had felt Zhuo Yu’s desperation—the urge to hide Fuchun, even if her master had become a demon.
If it had been Yan Shanqing or the others, perhaps they would have done the same.
But in the end, reason had prevailed over desperation. She hadn’t been able to bear seeing Fuchun reduced to that state.
Mo Zhu said quietly, "If it were me, I would have."
Yu Zhiling: "...What?"
Mo Zhu looked at her. "If you had been infected with demonic energy, Master, I would have hidden you away. I would have taken you somewhere only we knew, somewhere I could protect you forever."
Yu Zhiling stammered, "B-but I’d be a demon..."
"So what?" Mo Zhu's expression remained unchanged as he said calmly, "You are Yu Zhiling, and I will always choose you. Principles mean less to me than a single strand of your hair."
Yu Zhiling was no fool. Was Mo Zhu merely posing a hypothetical question?
No. He was declaring his stance, confessing his feelings.
She shrank back slightly, her willow-like brows furrowing as she looked at him. "Mo Zhu, don't say it."
She believed he understood her meaning.
Being master and disciple was the best outcome for them. She couldn’t fathom how a protagonist could fall for a villain—how a mere month could erase the torment and suffering she had inflicted on him for ten years.
Mo Zhu lifted his dark, fathomless eyes to watch her retreat until her back pressed against the wall.
"Shizun."
Yu Zhiling shook her head, her tone turning stern. "Enough. Go back to your room."
Mo Zhu remained expressionless, finishing what he had to say.
"My heart is only one, and there is only one Yu Zhiling."
It was over. Yu Zhiling’s mind blanked.
He had said it.
Mo Zhu shifted, kneeling on the bed with one knee as he leaned toward her.
Yu Zhiling was already cornered, trapped against the wall. When he closed the distance, his arms caged her on either side, his tall frame looming over her. Compared to her flustered state, his composure was unnervingly steady.
He reached out, brushing aside a loose strand of hair by her temple, his voice soft. "I believe Shizun understands. Or do I need to make it clearer?"
"You—you—you rebellious disciple!"
Yu Zhiling turned her face away, her long lashes fluttering rapidly as her mind raced for a way to defuse the situation.
Even her scolding sent a shiver down his spine, his lips curving into a smile.
Rebellious disciple?
He was indeed living up to her past accusations.
What kind of proper disciple harbored such improper thoughts toward their master?
Mo Zhu nodded, unbothered, fully embracing the label. "Yes, I am rebellious. I want to overstep my bounds."
Yu Zhiling tried to push him away, but his arms blocked her escape, leaving her no room to flee.
She could only shove weakly at him. "Mo Zhu, move back first."
Mo Zhu shook his head. "No. Shizun must listen to me first."
"Haven’t you already said enough?!"
"There’s more."
Yu Zhiling covered her ears. "I won’t listen!"
At times like this, she acted like a child. Mo Zhu chuckled, gently prying her hands away and leaning close to whisper in her ear.
"Good Shizun, listen for a little longer. It’s sweet talk."
His warm breath brushed against her ear, sending a flush across her face and a tingling numbness down one side of her body.
"Mo Zhu!"
He didn’t budge, murmuring softly by her ear. "I like Shizun—not as a disciple likes their master."
"I—you—shut up!"
"No. Listen a little more."
Mo Zhu cupped her face with one hand, preventing her from turning away, still hovering close to her ear.
"I like Shizun as a man likes a woman. The kind of liking where I want to sleep beside you. My feelings have nothing to do with allegiances. Whether you’re a demon, human, or monster, good or evil—it doesn’t matter. I like you. My dao heart is built upon you, so I will always choose you."
He wouldn’t abandon his loved ones for the sake of righteousness, as his parents had.
Nor would he be like Zhuo Yu, who, out of pity, shattered his master’s soul to prevent her from becoming a demonic cultivator.
His parents were good people. Zhuo Yu was a good person. They all had principles they upheld.
But Mo Zhu was no good person, nor did he possess an unshakable dao heart.
Yu Zhiling was stunned, her senses overwhelmed by his presence. He hovered over her, their position so intimate that anyone walking in would assume the worst.
Yet at this moment, her mind was devoid of any romantic notions.
This shattered her worldview—her understanding of the world of Chang Qiu.
Mo Zhu gently stroked her cheek. Her skin burned hot, smooth as fine jade. He feared his calloused fingers might hurt her, so he touched her with the utmost care.
He saw the disbelief in her eyes—she couldn’t accept it.
Mo Zhu chuckled. "Shizun, do you want to hear more? I have plenty left to say."
Yu Zhiling clapped a hand over his mouth. "Shut up!"
Mo Zhu’s eyes crinkled with amusement. Even muffled, he persisted. "Why won’t you listen? I haven’t even praised you yet."
Her palm pressed against his lips, and as he spoke, the movement of his mouth grazed her skin. Yu Zhiling could feel the softness of his lips, and she yanked her hand back as if burned.
"You—you—!"
"Me? What about me?"
Mo Zhu deliberately mimicked her stammering.
Yu Zhiling: "You’re taking advantage of me!"
Mo Zhu arched a brow. "Shizun has taken advantage of me too."
He tugged at his collar, revealing a faint bite mark on his collarbone, nearly faded. He had deliberately left it untouched, refusing to heal it with spiritual energy. While the others had vanished, this one—the one that had drawn blood—still lingered.
"I couldn’t bear to let it fade. I’d keep it forever if I could."
Yu Zhiling: "..."
Help, there’s a pervert here!
She tried to bolt when he loosened his hold, but Mo Zhu blocked her again.
Now stubborn, he pulled her back beneath him, arms caging her once more, enveloping her in his embrace.
"Shizun, you’re beautiful, powerful, and you’ve been too good to me. I admired you since childhood. For those ten years, I clung to the memory of our first meeting—every word you said to me in those seven days you saved me."
"As a child, it was admiration. Later, it became resentment—I wanted the old you back. When you emerged from seclusion, you felt familiar. I kept opening my heart to you, and you never pushed me away. Is it any wonder I fell for you?"
"After all," Mo Zhu traced her cheek, his gaze intense, "who wouldn’t like someone as wonderful as Shizun?"
She was adorable, clear-minded, steadfast in her dao, and radiant as the sun—who could resist?
People were drawn to warmth, and she possessed an indescribable charm.
Yu Zhiling stared at him in horror. "Mo Zhu, have you lost your mind?!"
It was meant as a rhetorical question, but Mo Zhu nodded. "Yes."
Yu Zhiling: "?"
Mo Zhu continued, "Shizun is too close to Gui. I’m jealous. I can’t stay calm anymore."
Yu Zhiling nearly laughed in exasperation. "We don’t even know if Gui is a man or a woman!"
"What if they’re a man?"
"...I don’t like Gui that way!"
Mo Zhu shook his head. "No, Shizun. You rely on Gui too much."
Yu Zhiling froze.
Mo Zhu met her gaze and said calmly, "You rely heavily on Gui. Even you don’t realize it, do you?"
Rely on him?
Yu Zhiling thought back to her life in the other world—how she would message Gui whenever she had a spare moment, how the first thing she did upon waking was talk to him. She’d update him about her medical checkups, even what she ate that day. To her, Gui was like a lifeline, the last thread of hope, the only companionship in her lonely existence.
That was why she said Gui was important.
Mo Zhu asked, "Master, look into my eyes. Who matters more—Gui or me?"
Yu Zhiling swallowed hard, acutely aware of the dangerous glint in his eyes.
Right now, she could easily lie and say he was more important, and the matter would be over.
But Yu Zhiling couldn’t bring herself to say it.
She stayed silent, yet the scales in her heart had already tipped to the other side—the side that didn’t belong to Mo Zhu.
One was the person who had stayed by her side through countless near-death experiences. Every time she woke up from ICU resuscitation, she’d find hundreds of messages from Gui, checking if she was alright. No matter how late she texted, he’d reply instantly. He’d handmade her little gifts. The sense of security and warmth he gave her was unmatched. Gui had been with her for years.
The other was the male lead she’d only known for a little over a month, someone she’d approached solely to complete a mission—the same protagonist who would kill her in the original story.
Mo Zhu’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he said quietly, "I understand."
He straightened up, no longer pressing her.
Yu Zhiling lay on the couch, staring at him blankly.
She couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. All she sensed was an unsettling quietness about him.
"Mo Zhu, that’s not what I meant…"
She wanted to placate him.
"Master."
Mo Zhu cut her off.
Yu Zhiling stammered, "Y-Yes?"
Mo Zhu asked, "Where is Gui now?"
Yu Zhiling pressed her lips together, her eyes dimming. "I can’t see him anymore."
"Never again?"
"Mm."
She couldn’t go back. She’d never see her Gui again.
Mo Zhu nodded. "Good. That’s good."
Yu Zhiling blinked. "What?"
Mo Zhu stood, his broad frame blocking most of the light in the room. For the first time, Yu Zhiling realized just how tall her little disciple was. A towering presence like his was naturally intimidating—especially when he wore that expressionless face.
He looked down at her and said coolly, "It’s good that you can’t see him. However much space Gui occupied in your heart before doesn’t matter. You have no future with him. But the years ahead are long, and the one who’ll stay by your side for centuries will be me. That’s enough."
He told himself not to dwell on her past, no matter how much it drove him mad with jealousy. The past couldn’t be changed. What he wanted was her future.
A future with her, spanning centuries.
He interpreted Yu Zhiling’s words to mean Gui was dead.
Dead was good. Saved him the trouble of tearing the world apart to hunt down and kill that inexplicable rival.
What could a dead man possibly take from him?
Mo Zhu took a deep breath, leaned down, and gently stroked her hair. Meeting her dazed gaze, he maintained an eerie calm.
"Master, I’ve said my piece. I won’t force you to be with me. Right now, I’m not worthy. I’d planned to wait until I grew stronger before pursuing you, but now that this stranger has appeared… I couldn’t hold back. You won’t blame me for being reckless, will you?"
Yu Zhiling caught the implication in his words.
Sure enough, the next moment, he chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
"Now that I’ve said it, it’d be a waste not to act. We have so many years ahead. I’ll work hard to become someone deserving of you, and…"
Mo Zhu lowered his head, pressing his forehead against hers, nuzzling her gently like he used to when seeking affection.
"I’ll do my best to win you over."
He agreed with Ning Hengwu’s observation—Yu Zhiling was someone who appreciated looks. She often stared at his face, or at Yan Shanqing and the others, because they were all good-looking.
Sometimes, a little calculated charm wasn’t a bad thing. He’d been blessed with a handsome face; might as well make full use of it. She liked his appearance anyway.
Every one of Yu Zhiling’s so-called "standards," he’d strive to meet.
Being too reserved wouldn’t win her over. Waiting for her to figure it out on her own might take eight hundred years, and Mo Zhu had no patience for that.
He knew all too well that delays bred uncertainty. One Gui was gone, but who was to say another wouldn’t appear? A Gui 2.0, perhaps?
Mo Zhu nuzzled her cheek and cooed, "Master, rest well. Tomorrow, I’ll wake early to buy you crab buns."
Crab buns? Right now, Yu Zhiling wanted to turn him into one!
Once Mo Zhu left, she was alone in the room. She kicked off the brocade quilt he’d draped over her.
Yu Zhiling screamed internally: "You insolent disciple! Expelled! Straight to expulsion!"
Her second senior sister had been right—young ones had the biggest ambitions. He actually had designs on his own master!
His antics had agitated her so much her injuries felt half-healed. After all that fuss, she wasn’t even in pain anymore.
Next door, it was silent, as if he’d already fallen asleep. Here she was, the one who’d been confessed to, yet she was the one unraveling. How was this fair?!
Yu Zhiling was drenched in sweat, sprawled inelegantly across the bed. After venting, she began to ponder—was this really the world of "Long Autumn"? Mo Zhu’s change in attitude toward her was too abrupt.
It was as if, in an instant, she’d gone from the villain who massacred his family to the savior who rescued him.
"System, you have to answer me now. The protagonist falls in love with the antagonist he’s hated for years? That’s like a wage slave falling in love with their 9-to-5! Isn’t this extreme OOC? It’s downright bizarre! Doesn’t this threaten world stability? Do you have a solution?"
She waited, but the useless system remained silent. Aside from mission prompts, it barely spoke at all.
Yu Zhiling cursed in frustration, "How is this not OOC? This isn’t just about love—it’s about the protagonist’s entire worldview, life philosophy, and values! Do you understand the butterfly effect? The slightest change can destabilize an entire world! Say something! Don’t give me the silent treatment!"
The system never replied, leaving her to spiral alone.
Yu Zhiling grabbed a cup of water and gulped it down.
This was infuriating!
She flopped onto the bed, hoping sleep would reset this nightmare.
Too weird. Too, too weird. Yu Zhiling couldn’t process it.
In her previous world, she’d been in her twenties, but Mo Zhu was only seventeen here. Sure, in this world, boys came of age at sixteen, and many married at seventeen.
But to her, Mo Zhu was just a high school boy!
The idea of dating a seventeen-year-old boy was something she couldn’t accept.
Yu Zhiling yanked the blanket over her face, wishing she could suffocate herself right then and there.
She needed to figure out what to do.
Time passed slowly, the night deepening until daylight tore through the darkness.
Morning arrived.
Mo Zhu walked into the courtyard, carrying breakfast he had bought. After tidying the stone table and setting out the meal, he went to call Yu Zhiling to eat.
The tightly shut door of a certain master’s room opened, and Yu Zhiling emerged, pushing her wheelchair with a cold expression. Her hair was disheveled, dark circles under her eyes—she looked like she hadn’t slept all night.
Mo Zhu effortlessly summoned a smile, stepping forward to support her as he asked softly, "Master, you’re awake?"
Yu Zhiling grabbed him abruptly.
"Master?"
"Kneel down," she ordered.
Mo Zhu half-knelt before her. Today, he wore a sleek black robe, different from his usual plain attire. This one was embroidered with intricate silver patterns, tailored to accentuate his tall, straight figure.
His raven-black hair was tied into a high ponytail with a jade crown—a dashing young man of seventeen, brimming with vitality.
Yu Zhiling concluded: he had absolutely done this on purpose, dressing up like a peacock to seduce his master.
As if the illustrious Immortal Lord Zhuoyu could be swayed by mere looks!
Mo Zhu smiled at her. "Master, did you need something?"
Yu Zhiling stared at him expressionlessly.
Mo Zhu thought to himself: she really did like his appearance. His strategy wasn’t wrong.
"Master, you—"
"Eat." Yu Zhiling cut him off, shoving a porcelain vial to his lips. "Take this. The whole bottle!"
Mo Zhu: "..."
Yu Zhiling: "If the medicine didn’t work, increase the dosage. Now eat."
Mo Zhu: "......"
He didn’t refuse her, taking the "medicine for idiots" that Ning Hengwu had left behind and swallowing it all in one go. He shook the empty vial afterward.
"Master, I took it."
Yu Zhiling asked, "Is your brain any better now?"
Mo Zhu nodded. "Much better."
Her eyes lit up. "Hehe, then take a good look at me. Don’t I seem utterly detestable now? Like you want to skin me alive? Look, look!"
This was the script a villain like her deserved, kid!
Mo Zhu studied her up and down, eyebrows lifting slightly as he responded, "Mm, I’ve looked."
Yu Zhiling: "And?"
Mo Zhu: "Beautiful."
Yu Zhiling: "?"
Mo Zhu: "Every part of you is beautiful. I like it. I like you."
Yu Zhiling clapped a hand over his mouth, deadpan. "You’re beyond saving. It’s terminal. Just wait—I’ll find you a nice burial spot soon."
Mo Zhu’s eyes curved with amusement, his voice muffled against her palm. "Then will you bury yourself with me, Master?"
Yu Zhiling snatched her hand back, her face burning red as she snapped, "In your dreams! You’ll be buried in the south, and I’ll be in the far north!"
Mo Zhu laughed. "That wouldn’t do. Let’s just stay alive together—there are so many things I want to do with you, Master."
Yu Zhiling smacked his shoulder hard. "Are you blind? I’m Yu Zhiling!"
She was the villain here!
"I know you’re Yu Zhiling."
Mo Zhu remained kneeling before her, his gaze level with hers. The teasing glint in his eyes faded, but his smile stayed, warm and tender as he looked at her.
"But I like Yu Zhiling. And I’ll only ever like Yu Zhiling."
