The Listening Spring Cliff welcomed the month of July.
Ning Hengwu arrived at the cliff carrying a freshly brewed medicinal decoction. Passing by Mo Zhu’s courtyard, she stepped into the neighboring one, where she found her dear junior sister lying on a soft divan in the yard. Yu Zhiling had her hands folded over her stomach, staring blankly at the sky with such a lifeless expression that it was almost comical.
For three days now, this had been the scene. Previously, Yu Zhiling had even moved her divan into Mo Zhu’s courtyard, claiming she needed to keep watch over her severely injured disciple during the day.
But three days ago, she abruptly moved it back, insisting with conviction that Mo Zhu had recovered—he was a grown serpent now and didn’t need his master hovering over him.
Ning Hengwu set the medicine on the table and asked, "Is Mo Zhu still next door?"
Yu Zhiling responded gloomily, "Mhm."
Ning Hengwu walked over and tapped Yu Zhiling’s forehead with a curled finger. "Did you two have a fight? Why aren’t you keeping an eye on him lately? His injuries aren’t fully healed yet."
Yu Zhiling scoffed, "He’s perfectly fine."
Always using those sly, seductive tricks, speaking more and more shamelessly in front of her. His cultivation was progressing smoothly—in a few more days, he’d even be fit for sword practice.
Ning Hengwu chuckled, pinching Yu Zhiling’s cheek. "You’ve got some color back in your face. Looks like you’ve put on a little weight."
Yu Zhiling nuzzled her senior sister’s hand. "Heh, it’s all thanks to you and the others taking such good care of me."
After chatting for a while, Ning Hengwu had to leave to attend to sect matters. Before going, she reminded Yu Zhiling to deliver the medicine to Mo Zhu once he woke—his recovery still required a few more doses.
Yu Zhiling continued basking in the sunlight on her divan until a mechanical voice echoed in her mind.
[Ding. The male lead has mastered the "Wenyu Heart Method." Host’s merit points +50. Current merit value: 3,250. Keep up the good work.]
Well, the overachiever had claimed he was going back to sleep, but in reality, he’d been meditating and cultivating. She could sense his urgency—his progress was astonishing, to the point where he seemed on the verge of facing a heavenly tribulation.
Yu Zhiling couldn’t help but marvel at the protagonist’s terrifying diligence. Day and night, he pushed himself relentlessly, sleeping barely two or three hours.
But his rapid advancement…
Something about it felt off.
Footsteps approached from outside. Reacting quickly, Yu Zhiling shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep.
The courtyard gate creaked open. The footsteps drew closer before stopping right beside her divan.
Yu Zhiling grumbled inwardly. What’s this little brat staring at? Can’t he see his master is sleeping? Take your medicine and scram!
The "little brat" chuckled, effortlessly seeing through her act. "Master, your disciple is a Tengshe."
As a celestial serpent, his heightened senses easily discerned the rhythm of her breathing—whether she was truly asleep or not.
Yu Zhiling opened her eyes and glared at him. "I’m sunbathing. What do you know? Go drink your medicine!"
Obediently, her disciple picked up the decoction. Unlike Yu Zhiling, who was fussy about bitter medicine, Mo Zhu downed it in one go without hesitation.
But after finishing, he didn’t leave. Instead, he washed the bowl, put it away, and returned to his master’s side.
Yu Zhiling scooted over slightly, making room on the divan. Mo Zhu took the hint and sat down.
He didn’t understand why she loved lounging in the yard so much. An orange blossom tree stood in the courtyard, its shade perfectly sheltering her.
"Master, I mastered a new heart technique today."
"I… I know."
"Any rewards?" Mo Zhu leaned in with a playful smile. "It was hard work. My meridians still ache from cultivating before fully recovering."
Yu Zhiling kicked him lightly. "Don’t push your luck! What rewards?!"
"How about a kiss?"
"...No!"
"Pity. Ever since the first time, I’ve been craving more. It’s unbearable."
Despite his words, there was no real regret in his eyes—only amusement as he watched her flustered reaction. Clearly, he was just teasing her.
Yu Zhiling: "..."
Had he cast some spell on her? Ever since that night when they’d kissed for hours, she kept recalling it at random moments. Now, whenever he flirted—intentionally or not—she actually felt the urge to kiss him again. The little brat was good at it. The sensation had been intoxicating.
But Yu Zhiling wasn’t someone to lose her wits over lust!
She shut her eyes, ignoring the serpent who’d somehow turned into a seductive fox spirit.
Mo Zhu stayed beside her. During their time resting at Yingshan Sect, he’d learned how much Yu Zhiling cherished these peaceful, uneventful days. Though busy, Yan Shanqing and the others always made time to visit her.
If possible, Mo Zhu wouldn’t have disturbed this tranquility.
Listening to her steady breathing, watching her slowly close her eyes, he finally voiced what had been weighing on him for days.
"Master."
Yu Zhiling hummed in acknowledgment, eyes still shut.
Mo Zhu continued, "The Spirit’s Hidden Path—do you know of it?"
Yu Zhiling opened one eye, tilting her head. "Why ask suddenly? From what I’ve read, the Spirit’s Hidden Path is a forbidden land that’s existed since the dawn of this continent. Some say divine relics lie within, but no one knows for sure. They say an unpassable river, the River of No Return, guards its entrance."
This matched what Mo Zhu had uncovered. He knew little beyond this.
After a pause, as if steeling himself, he spoke under her puzzled gaze. "Master, in the Endless Sword Realm, I saw a memory that wasn’t mine. Yingshan Sect was annihilated. Before dying, Second Uncle entrusted me to seek the Spirit’s Hidden Path—to avenge you and retrieve your body."
He expected shock, disbelief. After all, this tragedy hadn’t happened yet. She cherished Yingshan Sect deeply—such news should devastate her. Even he had felt icy dread crawling down his spine upon witnessing that memory.
But Yu Zhiling remained eerily calm.
Unnaturally so.
Lying on the divan, she met his gaze with unsettling composure. She didn’t question the memory’s authenticity. Instead, she asked bluntly, "The Endless Sword showed you this. Are you certain it wasn’t fabricated?"
Mo Zhu shook his head. "A sword spirit can’t forge memories. The Endless Sword said it sensed this memory imprinted on my soul. But Master, Yingshan Sect still stands. And you…"
You’re alive.
You’ll always be with me. How could you die?
"I see. Don’t dwell on it."
Her response was curt before she closed her eyes again. No grief, no fear, not even skepticism—she was calmer than Mo Zhu, who had lived through that memory.
Mo Zhu fell silent. For a long while, he watched her, motionless. If not for the irregularity of her breathing, he might’ve thought she’d truly fallen asleep.
But Yu Zhiling wasn’t sleeping. Behind closed lids, her mind raced, her pulse quickened. Hidden in her wide sleeves, her hands clenched into fists.
This was the original novel’s ending. Why does Mo Zhu know about it? Does he have the plot too?
No, impossible. The system never mentioned there being two mission-takers in this world. How could he possibly have knowledge of the plot? Moreover, judging by his usual behavior, he didn’t seem aware of the storyline. So how did he end up with these memories?
Mo Zhu claimed they were memories imprinted on his soul. The fact that these memories resided in his soul was utterly bizarre.
Yu Zhiling couldn’t make sense of it. After waiting for a long time, she heard Mo Zhu speak softly beside her ear.
"Master, please rest well. This disciple will take his leave now."
Yu Zhiling pretended to be asleep and didn’t respond. Mo Zhu didn’t press further, understanding that she was likely deep in thought. He quietly rose and left her courtyard, closing the gate behind him.
The moment he stepped out, Yu Zhiling sat up abruptly, confirming that Mo Zhu had returned to his own quarters.
"System, now you have to speak up, don’t you? Don’t you think things have already spiraled beyond your control?"
Yet the system, a mere machine, remained silent at this critical moment.
Frustration throbbed in Yu Zhiling’s temples. She grabbed a cup of tea and downed it in one gulp before hastily slipping on her shoes and rushing inside.
Beyond Zhuo Yu’s room lay a small courtyard leading to the lakeshore of Listening Spring Cliff—the very place where Zhuo Yu and Fuchun used to cultivate together.
The pavilion was spacious, furnished with two low desks and a bookshelf tucked in the corner. Not long after arriving in this world, Yu Zhiling had combed through every inch of it. The shelves held hundreds of scrolls, mostly on cultivation techniques and swordplay, which she had later passed on to Mo Zhu.
The remaining books were mostly miscellaneous texts. Yu Zhiling had even stumbled upon two volumes of romance novels, likely hidden by Yu Xiaowu before Fuchun’s death.
Following her memory, she rummaged through the shelves until she found a blue-bound volume in the corner. She carried it to one of the low desks and sat cross-legged on the floor.
Back then, she had only skimmed through it, assuming it was just an ordinary encyclopedia. But now, after practicing the cultivation manual Fuchun had personally written, Yu Zhiling recognized the handwriting the moment she opened the book—this, too, was Fuchun’s work.
Fuchun’s script was bold and precise, each stroke deliberate.
The volume seemed entirely dedicated to the Spirit Nether Path, spanning just seven pages. When Yu Zhiling had first flipped through it, she hadn’t paid much attention, merely glancing at the opening lines before shelving it again—she’d been far more interested in the romance novels.
Now, however, she focused intently, reading every word from start to finish.
It took her only a quarter of an hour to finish all seven pages. Zhuo Yu had always possessed a photographic memory.
Yu Zhiling set the book down.
[In the 400th year of Xiqing, the Spirit Nether Path opened. I went there and saved a woman before the Heavenward Lotus. Her name was Yu Xiangrong, nicknamed Rong. On her deathbed, she entrusted her child to me.]
[After Rong’s death, I buried her and brought the child back to Yingshan Sect. Together with Shanqing and the others, we named her Zhiling. Since Rong’s surname was Yu, we gave Xiaowu the same.]
[Xiaowu was exceptionally gifted. By her first year, she could already draw in spiritual energy. By three, she followed me into the Path of Clarity, her future boundless, her path long. But at ten, she suddenly fell into a coma for an entire month. I lied to Shanqing and the others, claiming she was in secluded cultivation—but that wasn’t the truth.]
[I sensed an unknown power within her, one that propelled her cultivation to soaring heights. After waking, she leapt from the early Golden Core stage to the mid-Nascent Soul stage in just a month. I was already at the Tribulation Transcendence stage, nearing ascension, yet this power unsettled me. So I resolved to investigate the Spirit Nether Path for answers.]
[The power within Xiaowu might be tied to Rong—or perhaps to her father. To uncover the truth, I had to return to the Spirit Nether Path. A century later, I cleaved the Unforgetting River and ventured there, barely surviving, yet finding no clues.]
Records about the Spirit Nether Path in the Central Plains were scarce. These seven pages were mostly Fuchun’s personal notes, chronicling events from Yu Zhiling’s tenth year until Fuchun’s death at Mount Sanwei when Yu Zhiling was 123.
A hundred and ten years condensed into seven pages.
From them, Yu Zhiling gleaned only two useful pieces of information.
Yan Shanqing had once mentioned that when Fuchun brought Yu Xiaowu back to Yingshan Sect, she was still swaddled, not even a month old. At the time, Yan Shanqing and the others were young, unmarried, and utterly unprepared to care for an infant. They took shifts, never leaving her side until she could toddle and babble.
Fuchun claimed to have found Yu Xiaowu in the Spirit Nether Path.
At ten, Yu Xiaowu had fallen into a month-long coma, her body harboring an unknown force. After awakening, she had vaulted straight to the mid-Nascent Soul stage. Fuchun, unable to discern the secret within her, grew increasingly uneasy and returned to the Spirit Nether Path, nearly dying in the process—yet finding nothing.
Yu Zhiling sat in the pavilion for a long time. As dusk fell and the evening glow seeped through the latticework, she finally stirred, blinking slowly.
She didn’t know why Mo Zhu had seen those memories, but deep down, she felt they couldn’t be false. The novel’s passing mention of these events concealed a storm of secrets.
The annihilation of Yingshan Sect seemed tied to the Spirit Nether Path. Before dying, Ning Hengwu had entrusted Mo Zhu with a mission to go there.
Yu Zhiling opened the Infinite Realm. The task of preventing Yingshan Sect’s destruction was only half-complete. What about the other half?
Was it connected to the Spirit Nether Path?
Abruptly, Yu Zhiling stood, lifting her skirts as she hurried down the corridor and out the front gate, her steps swift.
She hadn’t gone far when someone called out behind her.
"Master."
Mo Zhu stood at the open gate, watching her calmly.
Their courtyards were adjacent, and he had heard her the moment she opened her door.
"Do you need something?"
Yu Zhiling glanced at the Unreturning Sword at his waist. "Can Unreturning show you more of those memories?"
Mo Zhu: "Not for now. Unreturning says the remaining memories are sealed. Perhaps as my cultivation advances and the sword grows stronger, more will be revealed."
Yu Zhiling turned away. "I have business to attend to. Wait for me at Listening Spring Cliff."
Her tone was icy, her strides sharp. Even her gaze toward Mo Zhu was cold.
Mo Zhu didn’t ask why. As she walked away without looking back, she seemed like a different person. Yu Xiaowu was usually carefree, but when it came to serious matters, she became steady and composed—a pillar of reassurance.
Yu Zhiling headed straight for Yingshan Sect’s administrative hall. Yan Shanqing was buried in paperwork when she barged in without knocking.
Before even looking up, Yan Shanqing knew who it was. "Yu Xiaowu! How many times must I tell you to knock before entering?"
By the time he finished scolding, Yu Zhiling was already standing in the center of the hall.
Frowning, Yan Shanqing immediately sensed the gravity of the situation. When Yu Zhiling wore that expression, it meant business.
"Eldest Brother, I need to leave the mountain."
Yan Shanqing’s face darkened. "No. You’re not going anywhere."
Yu Zhiling countered, "Aren’t you going to ask where?"
Yan Shanqing slammed the table. "No matter where you go—even if it's the Changming Tower at the foot of Yingshan Sect—I won't allow you to leave the mountain!"
"I'm going to the Lingyou Path."
Her words fell, and the great hall fell into dead silence, so quiet one could hear a pin drop.
Yan Shanqing dropped the brush in his hand, leaning back into the wide chair with a calm expression. "What are you going there for?"
Yu Zhiling only replied, "Something important."
Yan Shanqing's face remained impassive. "What important matter can't you share with me?"
"I can't say for now."
Mainly because she couldn’t. The annihilation of Yingshan Sect was something even Mo Zhu found hard to believe. If Yu Zhiling hadn’t known the plot, she wouldn’t have remained so composed, trusting Mo Zhu’s account.
Yan Shanqing and the others would never believe it either. Even those who had transcended tribulations could only foresee a possible outcome. To directly glimpse memories from beyond this world—there had been no precedent for such a thing in Zhongzhou for tens of thousands of years.
Yan Shanqing nodded, straightening up and picking up his brush again. "Go back. Don’t even think about leaving the mountain. I forbid it."
Yu Zhiling pressed her lips together, silent for a moment before speaking again. "I don’t want to force my way through Yingshan Sect’s barriers. It would hurt the disciples. Senior Brother, you know the barriers can’t stop me. I have to go."
"No. Until the Demon Lord is captured, you are not to leave Yingshan Sect."
"Senior Brother..."
"Yu Xiaowu." Yan Shanqing suddenly looked up, his hand gripping the brush trembling slightly. "I know you’ve kept many things from your senior brothers and sisters. I also know whatever you’re planning must have its reasons. But Xiaowu, we can’t afford to take that risk."
"You know he wants to kill you. Until he’s caught, you stay within the sect. Your senior brothers and sisters will handle it."
Yu Zhiling looked at Yan Shanqing, seated high on the platform. He was the pillar of Yingshan Sect, rarely leaving after succeeding as sect leader. While others traveled freely, he alone remained, guarding Yingshan Sect.
This mountain wasn’t small—it was the tallest in Zhongzhou.
Yet it wasn’t so large either, enough to confine him for a lifetime.
Yu Zhiling understood his worry, his fear.
"Senior Brother, I don’t want to lose any of you. Hiding will only make us more vulnerable. Some things can’t be avoided by hiding."
The entire Yingshan Sect, including Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan, had unanimously insisted she stay. The suppression of the Four Killing Realms didn’t require her, the demon purging in Zhongzhou wasn’t her responsibility, and with all of Yingshan Sect’s protective formations activated—along with the Infinite Boundary—this was now the safest place in Zhongzhou.
Of course, she knew their intentions. But she also had to resolve these matters.
Even if she truly had to leave in the end, she would do so only after settling everything, leaving them a Yingshan Sect free from future worries.
Yu Zhiling turned and left. Behind her, Yan Shanqing remained silent, neither calling her back nor arguing.
Only after she was gone, the hall doors closing once more, did his rigid posture collapse. He slumped into the chair, defeated.
"Xiaowu… Xiaowu..."
The jade token at his waist lit up, flashing several times before he finally answered.
Ning Hengwu’s voice came through. "Senior Brother, something’s happened to the Yun family."
Yan Shanqing’s grip on the token tightened.
"W-what?"
"Yun Zhi went missing on his way to suppress the Four Killing Realms. It’s been three days. Zhaoyan sent word, asking Xiaowu to leave the mountain. It seems… it’s related to the Lingyou Path."
Then, as if recalling something unpleasant, Ning Hengwu’s voice lowered. "Unless absolutely necessary, Zhaoyan wouldn’t have reached out to me. But Senior Brother, you know—only Xiaowu can cleave through the Unforgotten River."
Yan Shanqing ended the transmission.
He knew. He could no longer keep Yu Zhiling here.
When Yu Zhiling returned to Listening Spring Cliff, she saw the black-clad youth standing atop the peak.
He stood there, sword in arms, his dark hair slightly disheveled by the wind—as if he’d been waiting for her for a long time.
A pang of guilt struck her, remembering how coldly she’d spoken to Mo Zhu earlier.
"Have you been waiting long? I had matters to discuss with Senior Brother. It wasn’t convenient to bring you."
Mo Zhu shook his head. "This disciple understands. Master plans to leave the mountain, doesn’t she?"
Yu Zhiling lowered her head slightly, nodding in admission. "Yes. I knew you’d guess. Do you understand why?"
"I do." Mo Zhu replied. "Master suspects the annihilation of Yingshan Sect is tied to the Lingyou Path. You want to investigate, to seize the initiative."
Yu Zhiling asked, "Perhaps staying in Yingshan Sect is the safest option."
Mo Zhu bent down, so she wouldn’t have to look up at him.
He said, "But if you stay, Sect Leader and the others may not be safe. You fear something will happen to them."
"Do you think I should go?"
"Yes. Because Yingshan Sect is Master’s home. Its survival is yours. If Yingshan Sect falls, what would Master do?"
Yu Zhiling wasn’t sure how she’d react if she witnessed Yingshan Sect’s destruction firsthand. In the original plot, by this point, Yu Xiaowu should already be dead.
In the original story, the first to die in Yingshan Sect was Yu Xiaowu.
The answer she didn’t know, Mo Zhu provided.
"Master would lose herself. Do you remember in Nan City, when the Immortal Alliance elders came for Sect Leader and the others? Do you know how Master looked then?"
Yu Zhiling’s lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.
Mo Zhu continued, "Like a god of slaughter."
No rationality left. If Xiang Wuxue hadn’t intervened in time, she would have cleaved Jing Wei in half with a single strike.
No regard for consequences. In that moment, she’d been beyond reason. Yingshan Sect’s protectiveness ran deep—it had been that way since Fuchun’s time.
Mo Zhu pinched her cheek lightly. "Do what you must. Hiding forever isn’t the answer. If the Demon Lord isn’t caught in a day, must we stay confined for a day? What if he remains at large for a hundred years?"
Yu Zhiling chuckled. "I didn’t expect you to support me. Back in Lianhua Marsh, I asked you the same question. Your answer then shocked me—repeatedly."
Mo Zhu also smiled, eyes curving. "I listen to Master. Whatever Master asks, I’ll do. But I’m going with you to the Lingyou Path."
Yu Zhiling arched a brow. "It’s dangerous there."
"But Master needs me. Needs my memories, doesn’t she?"
Yu Zhiling did need them. She’d been dreaming, but those dreams only showed the original host’s memories. By the time Yingshan Sect was destroyed, the original host should already be dead.
Otherwise, Ning Hengwu wouldn’t have clung to her last breath, waiting for Mo Zhu to arrive so she could urge him to avenge her master.
The original host had no memories of Yingshan Sect’s fall. Yu Zhiling couldn’t dream of them either. Those memories belonged only to Mo Zhu—and he might hold more clues.
When happy, Yu Zhiling forgot all caution. Habitually, she scratched her disciple’s chin, as if petting a kitten. "Wait a few more days. After my tribulation lightning descends and your eighteenth birthday passes, we’ll set out for the Lingyou Path. You and I—together."
Mo Zhu naturally took hold of her hand, pressing his cheek against her palm and nuzzling it gently. "Master, do you remember what I said? That I’d give you a little gift for my eighteenth birthday?"
His misty eyes gazed at her, strikingly similar to the way he looked at her when he kissed her. Mo Zhu disliked closing his eyes when kissing—most of the time, he kept them open, watching her with intense focus and fervor, his desire and adoration so palpable it was almost overwhelming.
Yu Zhiling keenly recognized this as a signal of seduction, and fearing her own wavering resolve might lead her to fall for it again, her face flushed as she pulled her hand away. "Why would you give me a gift on your birthday?"
Mo Zhu, emboldened, leaned in closer, cupping her face and pressing his forehead against hers, whispering in a coaxing tone.
"It’s very important. A gift I absolutely must give."
"Mo Zhu, let go first."
Yu Zhiling tried to retreat, but Mo Zhu wrapped his arms around her waist, chuckling lowly before resting his chin on her shoulder.
"No way. Master likes being close to me."
Her racing heartbeat betrayed the truth—his proximity, his embrace, his sweet words and affectionate gestures all sent her pulse into disarray. His heart, too, beat just as wildly.
Yu Zhiling couldn’t help but laugh as the loose strands of his hair tickled her, squirming slightly to push him away.
"What are you doing? Why are you always acting so spoiled?"
"Because Master likes it."
"Master likes plenty of things. Are you going to do them all?"
"All of them."
"Then why didn’t you take off your clothes when Master told you to? All talk, no action!"
Mo Zhu nuzzled against her ear, murmuring in a hushed voice, "I was being shy back then. Now I regret it. If I take them off now, will you look?"
Yu Zhiling smacked his shoulder. "Mo Zhu!"
Shameless! He had completely changed!
The little brat nuzzled against her head, hugging her tighter and whining, "Master likes my face, so don’t be shy. Why won’t you be affectionate with me?"
"I still have some dignity!"
"Well, I don’t. Master, spare me some face—you know you like it."
Yu Zhiling’s laughter left her weak, unable to escape, and too reluctant to actually hit him. She could only tilt her head slightly, gazing at the young man resting against her shoulder.
"You—you shameless little rascal, go cultivate!"
"Later. Just a little longer. Let me hold you a bit more."
If he could hold her like this, he wouldn’t feel tired for the rest of the day.
Yu Zhiling’s temper flared at his words, and just as she turned her head to push him away, he happened to turn as well, bringing them face to face.
His lips brushed against the corner of hers, sending a tingling sensation coursing through her entire body.
Yu Zhiling: "???"
She shoved him away immediately. "Mo Zhu!"
Beneath the setting sun, she stood atop the towering Tingchun Cliff, her flushed cheeks and flustered glare all because of him.
Mo Zhu’s throat moved as his stunned mind finally caught up. He raised a hand to touch his lips, regretful—why had he turned so hastily? A fleeting touch, just a graze.
What a pity.
The furious master easily read the indecent thoughts in her disciple’s mind and delivered a sharp kick to his knee.
"Get rid of those filthy ideas in your head, or I’ll get rid of you!"
She turned and left, leaving Mo Zhu alone at the cliff’s edge.
The delayed pain in his knee finally registered—that kick had been solid, packed with force. Mo Zhu bent down to rub his knee, utterly unfazed by the shoe print on his black robes. Straightening up, his gaze drifted downward from Tingchun Cliff.
From here, he could see all of Yingshan.
Beautiful, vast, and warm.
Mo Zhu suddenly laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners, bright and radiant.
"I love it. I really do."
He loved Yingshan. But even more, he loved the master who resided there.
He wanted to stay by her side forever—here, in their home.
