He had always been easy to coax.
Mo Zhu was endlessly tolerant toward those he loved, his temper remarkably gentle.
Yu Zhiling turned her face away. "Mo Zhu, don’t do this."
Don’t do what?
Mo Zhu captured her lips, his hand pressing firmly against the small of her back as he pulled her into his embrace. Yu Zhiling let out a muffled whimper, tasting the metallic tang of blood on his tongue—a kiss stained crimson, though it was his blood she tasted.
"Coax me," he murmured against her mouth. "Say you love me. Say you’ll give yourself to me."
He lifted her, pinning her against the trunk of a tree before trailing kisses down her neck.
Yu Zhiling gasped, struggling to reason with him. "Mo Zhu, wait—just stop for a moment. Listen to me, please?"
Mo Zhu wasn’t in the mood for negotiation. "Why is it only acceptable when Shizun kisses me, but not when I kiss Shizun?"
His fingers were already loosening the sash of her robes. Yu Zhiling panicked, hastily wrapping her arms around his neck. "We’re outside!"
Mo Zhu deftly untied the belt of her outer robe. "It’s fine. I’ll hold you. No one will come here. Besides… wouldn’t it feel different this way?"
"Mo Zhu!"
Yu Zhiling was utterly flustered now.
His hand slid to her waist, a single upward push enough to part the layers of her inner garment. His gaze locked onto hers, cool and unreadable, until Yu Zhiling squeezed her eyes shut.
Then she saw it—the glimmer of tears in his eyes.
This wasn’t about desire at all. From the moment he had cornered her, he had been drowning in sorrow—a quiet anger simmering beneath, but mostly the overwhelming ache of being abandoned by her.
Yu Zhiling opened her eyes, one hand cradling the back of his head as Mo Zhu buried his face against her neck, hot tears dripping onto her collarbone.
"Mo Zhu… I’m sorry."
He didn’t respond, only hoisted her up by the thighs until she was nearly wrapped around him.
Yu Zhiling held him tighter, fingers threading through his hair as she whispered, "I love you. Only you. There will never be anyone else. But Mo Zhu… I have to do this. It’s not that I don’t want you—it’s because staying by my side isn’t safe."
Mo Zhu nipped at the tender skin of her throat, though without any real force. His voice was thick. "You always decide everything on your own. Have you ever considered that what you think is ‘for our own good’ might not be what we actually want?"
"Mo Zhu… do you understand me?"
"I understand your reasoning," he said, lifting his head to brush his lips against hers. "But I don’t agree. You can’t just discard me like this. You never asked for my opinion—never asked whether Sect Leader or the elders even need you to sacrifice yourself."
"Shizun, you can’t be this selfish. We’ve already lost you once. If it happens again… we’ll lose our minds."
But Yu Zhiling couldn’t bring herself to choose. She didn’t dare gamble with their lives.
Mo Zhu studied her for a long moment, waiting for an answer she couldn’t give. Of course he knew what held her back.
She feared that missing this chance to destroy You Zhou would bring disaster to Ying Mountain—that Yan Shanqing and the others might never leave Ying Mountain Sect again.
She feared her inner demons would one day break free, forcing her to flee the Central Continent and bringing ruin upon Ying Mountain.
Every fear was justified, every possibility real. And so, she couldn’t take the risk.
Mo Zhu lowered his gaze, gently setting her down before crouching in front of her. He turned, offering his back, then used a flick of spiritual energy to retrieve the fallen fruit she had dropped earlier. Without a word, he began carrying her up the mountain.
Yu Zhiling clung to his shoulders, shifting slightly in discomfort. Mo Zhu tightened his grip beneath her thighs in response.
"…Mo Zhu, let me go. Sui Ji is waiting for me."
He didn’t release her, his voice flat. "Shizun, I don’t want to argue with you."
Yu Zhiling understood the unspoken warning. Her arms tightened around his neck as she murmured, "Mo Zhu, some things… only I can do."
He didn’t answer, nor did he put her down. The descent had been swift, but the ascent took far longer.
By the time they reached Listening Spring Cliff, night had fully fallen. Mo Zhu set her down and left without a word, returning to his own quarters. She had expected anger, pleading, or perhaps quiet forgiveness—anything but this. No questions, no reconciliation. Just silence, as if his only purpose had been to bring her home.
Yu Zhiling sat alone in her room, the lamps Mo Zhu had lit before leaving casting the space in bright, artificial daylight.
Now it was her turn to feel lost. What did this mean? Was he still upset? Or had he silently accepted things between them?
Her fingers twisted together anxiously. She picked up one of the cleaned fruits, taking a few absentminded bites. Should she seize this chance to slip away? Or wait until morning to explain properly before leaving?
The back-and-forth left her head spinning. With a frustrated groan, she pressed her palms to her temples. That little serpent—how dare he walk away so easily, leaving his Shizun to agonize alone?
Straightening abruptly, she made up her mind. She had to go now. By tomorrow, Mo Zhu might alert Yan Shanqing and the others, and then escape would be impossible.
But just as she rose, the sound of the courtyard gate swinging open froze her in place.
Yu Zhiling stared blankly toward the door as light footsteps approached, the silhouette of a tall, slender youth outlined against the paper screen.
"Mo Zhu, come in—"
Before she could finish, the door slid open on its own.
For a heartbeat, she simply stared as he stepped inside. The room wasn’t small by any means, yet his presence seemed to shrink it around them.
Mo Zhu looked freshly bathed, his clothes clean, every trace of blood scrubbed away.
Their eyes met. Yu Zhiling stood slowly.
"Mo Zhu, let’s talk properly. I can explain everything."
She moved toward him, already mentally drafting arguments. How could she convince someone so stubborn to let her go?
When she reached him, Mo Zhu remained silent, head bowed as he watched her.
Yu Zhiling tilted her face up earnestly. "I truly have to go. I’ll do everything to survive, but you—mmph!"
The rest was swallowed by the heat of his mouth. Mo Zhu parted her lips with practiced ease, his tongue claiming hers in a relentless invasion.
Every protest died in her throat as she stumbled backward, half-dragged into the bedchamber. By the time her back hit the mattress, her outer robe was already gone. The thick bedding cushioned her fall, but the impact still broke the kiss.
Instinct kicked in—she rolled sideways, trying to scramble off the bed, but an arm hooked around her waist and hauled her back. Mo Zhu knelt over her, one knee on either side of her hips, his weight pressing down just enough to remind her of his strength.
"Mo Zhu! What are you—"
Yu Zhiling braced her hands against his chest, but he simply lowered his head, silently working at the ties of her inner garments.
"Mo Zhu!"
This time, she grabbed his wrist with real force, leaving red marks across his skin.
The young man slightly raised his gaze, his eyes locking with Yu Zhiling's. Across the distance, her expression was somber, yet it couldn't conceal her fluster. After all, she was an inexperienced maiden—prepared as she might have been to bewitch him, the sudden turn of events tonight was entirely unexpected.
Mo Zhu said softly, "I regret it."
"What?" Yu Zhiling's delicate brows furrowed. "What did you say?"
Mo Zhu leaned down to kiss her forehead, his scorching breath brushing against her skin.
"Even if we cultivate together without name or status, I'll accept it. Whatever Shizun wants is fine. I am Shizun's, and Shizun is mine. Until death, we belong to each other."
As his lips grazed her ear, Yu Zhiling shrank back, turning her head to avoid him.
"You… What’s gotten into you? Who said something to you?"
Mo Zhu remained silent, trailing kisses along her ear and neck.
"Mo Zhu, Mo Zhu—get off me first. Did you see another memory?"
The ties of her inner robe had already loosened. Yu Zhiling quickly pressed her hand against his wrist. "Mo Zhu, what’s wrong?"
Mo Zhu lifted his head from her neck, his cheeks flushed. Having stepped into the Tribulation Transcendence stage, the pressure around him had intensified, but what unsettled Yu Zhiling more was the look in his eyes—dark, unfathomable, indifferent yet filled with pain.
Her heart ached. Cupping his face, she coaxed him gently, "You saw something, didn’t you? Don’t dwell on it. Mo Zhu, we must move forward, right?"
She thought she could calm him quickly, but the next moment, his hand slid beneath her inner robe.
"Mo Zhu!"
Why wouldn’t this child listen to her?
Mo Zhu tilted his head to kiss her again, targeting her most sensitive spot—her ear. Soon, he felt her body soften slightly.
"Give yourself to me, Shizun."
Yu Zhiling tried to placate him. "Later… Can we wait a little longer?"
Later?
There wouldn’t be a later.
Liar. Little liar. She was deceiving him again.
She was planning to throw her life away. She never intended to keep him.
Mo Zhu was usually tender when kissing her, but now his bites were rough, his tongue relentless. His hand slipped further into her robe, fumbling clumsily to undo another tie.
He hadn’t spent all that time close to her for nothing. He knew exactly where to touch to melt her resistance. As her breath hitched and her hands fell limp against his chest, Mo Zhu finally relented.
Straightening up, he let the bed curtains fall, plunging them into dimness. He undid his own belt without a word.
"Mo… Mo Zhu…"
He was undressing right before her. Yu Zhiling, who had never been with a man, had never experienced such stimulation. Her fingers clenched the embroidered sheets reflexively. The scattered luminous pearls cast faint light, allowing her to see Mo Zhu clearly despite the curtains.
Outside, the wind howled against the window—autumn had long since deepened into winter.
Mo Zhu shed his inner robe, revealing a lean, muscular frame—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, taut abs disappearing into black trousers. Yu Zhiling immediately averted her gaze.
"Mo Zhu!"
She struggled to sit up, but as she propped herself on her elbows, she met his gaze.
He didn’t stop her, simply watching in silence, no longer undressing.
Yu Zhiling couldn’t help but notice the scars littering his body. Though the Flying Serpent’s regenerative abilities were formidable, Mo Zhu had suffered countless wounds over the years—some too severe to heal completely. The marks weren’t grotesque, but they were impossible to ignore.
Their eyes held, heavy with unspoken words.
She saw the reluctance in his gaze, the sorrow and insecurity. He lacked assurance because her love wasn’t enough to sustain them. From the start, she had hesitated—worrying about their age difference, her mission, and now, abandoning him for Yingshan.
"So, I’ll always be the one you discard, is that it?"
His words echoed in her ears.
Yu Zhiling lowered her eyes to the scar on his abdomen—a remnant from when a spirit beast gored him at the Spirit Artifact Pavilion. Though healed, the mark would take time to fade.
She lay back down and untied her inner robe herself.
"Mo Zhu, I’ll give myself to you."
Her voice was gentle, yet Mo Zhu’s pupils trembled. Her actions, her words—they felt like a slap to his face.
"...I’m sorry."
Mo Zhu turned away, grabbing his discarded clothes.
"Forgive me, Shizun. I forced you. I made you yield."
His voice was hoarse, thick with unshed tears. The initial despair had shattered his reason, but now that she had agreed, clarity returned.
What was he doing?
Coercing her into giving herself to him?
Exploiting her innate softness and affection to pressure someone who loved him deeply?
Mo Zhu draped the clothes over her, tears spilling onto Yu Zhiling’s face.
"Forgive me… Forgive me, Shizun."
He scrambled to leave, but Yu Zhiling caught his wrist.
"I’m not yielding. I’ve always been willing."
The young man stiffened, not daring to look back.
Behind him, rustling fabric reached his keen senses—he knew exactly what she was doing.
Yu Zhiling’s heart raced as she sat up and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. She had embraced him many times, but never like this—clad only in her undergarments.
Her slender arms encircled him, her smooth skin pressed against his feverish body.
"I’m not coaxing you or lying to you," she murmured. "I’ve always… been willing."
"When two people love each other, anything is allowed. I promise you—these words hold no deceit. My love isn’t false. You’re in my heart."
Mo Zhu turned and pinned her down against the sheets.
He kissed her wildly, his trembling hands stripping away her last layer until nothing remained hidden.
Yu Zhiling shut her eyes, cursing her fear of darkness. Mo Zhu had scattered luminous pearls in the canopy to soothe her, never imagining they’d now serve his advantage—letting him see everything.
Every inch of her.
His scorching lips, his fervent kisses, his hands and mouth claiming her relentlessly. Yu Zhiling covered her face, wishing she could suffocate herself. Biting her lip did nothing to stifle her sounds. Her entire body burned crimson.
Mo Zhu pried her hands away, fearing she might truly choke herself.
Dazed, she realized she was already bare beneath him—he had seen all of her.
Yu Zhiling kept her eyes shut, arms looped around his neck as their kisses tangled. His scent marked every part of her.
At last, Mo Zhu whispered against her ear, "I’ve cleansed my hands. May I?"
Yu Zhiling nodded in agreement, after which all she could do was cling to his shoulders, her waist arching and sinking as the embroidered quilt was kicked into disarray. Strands of sweat-dampened hair clung to her cheeks. Mo Zhu's inexperience was what she found hardest to endure—his strength was uncontrolled.
At first, it brought her only pain. But as he grew slightly more adept, Yu Zhiling finally understood what it meant to be trapped between unbearable pleasure and torment. Mo Zhu’s hands, so skilled with a sword, were beautiful—the calluses on his fingertips proof of his dedication, yet they also became the cruelest instruments of torture.
Outside the window, the wind stilled. As dawn’s faint light crept in, rain began to fall.
The air was damp, slightly cool.
Mo Zhu rose to close the wide-open window, leaving only a narrow gap. He turned back, lifting the bed curtains to find Yu Zhiling lying on the inner side of the bed.
The young man slipped beneath the covers, one arm sliding beneath her neck, the other wrapping around her waist from behind, his lean back pressing against her slender frame. His chest, firm and warm, molded to her.
Mo Zhu trailed light kisses along the marks on her shoulders, then lifted his head slightly to look at her, noticing the redness at the corners of her eyes.
He chuckled. "I’m the one doing all the work, so why is Shizun the one crying?"
Yu Zhiling: "..."
She squirmed slightly. "...If you’re not going to finish, then stop tormenting me."
He hadn’t gone all the way, yet he had explored every inch of her. Despite their mutual inexperience, stumbling through it together, they had nearly crossed that final line.
But at the critical moment, he had stopped, retreating to the bathing room to take care of himself.
Now, Mo Zhu held her close, pressing a kiss to her neck, his voice low and rough. "I still want to claim my rightful place before doing these things. Shizun, can you understand that?"
Yu Zhiling’s half-lidded eyes opened slightly. Beneath the quilt, their bodies were bare, pressed tightly together, their intimacy undeniable.
She didn’t answer, her gaze unfocused, as if she were looking at nothing and everything at once.
Mo Zhu kissed her again, murmuring between touches. "We’ve already crossed a line, Shizun. You know how much I want this. What I said last night was spoken in anger—I won’t settle for no name, no status. I want a marriage bond. I won’t let Shizun be with me without it."
Yu Zhiling said, "I can give you a marriage bond."
Mo Zhu replied, "I only want the Twin-Life Bond."
Yu Zhiling fell silent, but her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the pillow. Mo Zhu shifted, leaning over her to capture her lips, their tongues tangling swiftly. He pressed her down, his hands roaming freely, drawing soft sounds from her.
"Only the Twin-Life Bond. Nothing less. Don’t try to deceive me, Shizun. I want that and nothing else."
Yu Zhiling turned her head away, struggling to breathe. In the end, she lay on her side, legs tightly closed, as his deep, melodious voice—unrestrained in its pleasure—whispered and panted in her ear.
"Shizun, give me the Twin-Life Bond."
Dazed, Yu Zhiling thought to herself—she, the illustrious Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, was unmatched in every aspect. There was no one in this world she couldn’t defeat. If such a person existed, it could only be because they were born with inhuman talent.
After all… he was a Flying Serpent. Fundamentally different from human cultivators.
Mo Zhu fetched a basin of water to clean her.
Yu Zhiling was beyond shame now—after hours of being laid bare before him, if he was willing to serve her, she was more than happy to let him. Besides, this mess was his doing; he ought to be the one to tidy it up.
Once he had finished, Mo Zhu covered her with the quilt and sat silently at the edge of the bed, watching her.
Yu Zhiling felt his gaze and knew what he was thinking.
She still hadn’t given him the Twin-Life Bond.
Mo Zhu lay beside her, pulling her into his arms. "Should I open the bed curtains?" he asked softly.
"Mm."
The scent inside the canopy was too strong, and he could tell she disliked it.
Yu Zhiling rested her head on his arm, her face buried against his chest, while Mo Zhu pressed his chin to the top of her head. They lay entwined, facing each other.
He didn’t press her further about the bond. But after failing to secure her promise, he silently resumed exploring her body, stealing away even the time she had meant to rest. Though he had held back from taking the final step, Yu Zhiling still spent the entire night without sleep.
Mo Zhu kissed her forehead, then trailed lower. Just before his lips met hers, Yu Zhiling shrank back slightly.
"Don’t kiss my mouth with that."
It took him only a second to understand. He laughed, pulling her tighter against him.
"Shizun is clean everywhere."
Yu Zhiling chose to play mute. Men seemed to have an innate talent for this. Two novices who had initially caused each other pain had, in the end, found boundless pleasure.
She lay there for a long time. Outside, daylight had fully arrived. The jade token by the bed had lit up twice the night before, but Mo Zhu hadn’t allowed her to answer. The caller hadn’t tried again—likely realizing she was occupied.
After a moment’s hesitation, seeing Mo Zhu’s eyes closed as if dozing, she finally spoke, her voice tentative. "Mo Zhu, let’s not fight, alright?"
Mo Zhu opened his eyes, lifting a hand to stroke her cheek. "I never wanted to fight with Shizun."
Yu Zhiling wrapped her arms around his waist, tilting her head up to kiss his jaw. "I don’t want to leave. But I have no choice. I didn’t tell any of you because I knew you wouldn’t agree. But Mo Zhu… do you know what Sui Ji showed me?"
Mo Zhu waited silently for her to continue.
Yu Zhiling said, "You Zhou is a Heavenly Demon Seed—a being born from the purest demonic energy in the lightless depths of the Demon Abyss, nurtured over millennia. That’s why his soul is unlike anyone else’s. Do you know how he cultivates those demonic seeds that control the cultivators of the Central Continent? Or those bloodthirsty demonic wraiths?"
Mo Zhu frowned. "They’re connected to the Demon Abyss?"
Yu Zhiling nodded. "The disturbances in the Four Slaughter Realms are growing more frequent. The demons inside seem to be systematically assaulting the Four Slaughter Stele, and this time, their forces are far stronger than before. I suspect the Demon Abyss has bred at least a million wraiths—the demons are using them to break the stele."
"And," she continued, "Sui Ji said You Zhou isn’t so easily destroyed. His three souls and seven spirits are different from ours. We don’t even know if he has other means of survival. That’s why I need to go with Sui Ji into the heart of demon territory—there might be a way to kill him there."
"Mo Zhu, whether it’s the increasing unrest in the Four Slaughter Realms, the Immortal Alliance’s annihilation, or You Zhou and the hidden forces behind him… we’ve been too passive all along. I don’t want you all to be trapped in Ying Mountain forever."
She reached up, tracing the corner of his eye, her fingertips brushing his lashes.
"I don’t know what he’s planning. But Mo Zhu, he’s already unfolding his schemes. There are too many unknowns—I can’t afford to hide in Ying Mountain any longer. Until I kill him, none of you can leave. Do you understand?"
Of course he understood. Mo Zhu took her hand, intertwining their fingers tightly.
"Master, you can go to the Abyss of Demons."
Yu Zhiling blinked, her expression dazed.
Mo Zhu brushed his lips against hers, murmuring, "I’ll go with you."
Yu Zhiling’s pupils constricted, and she refused without hesitation, "No!"
Mo Zhu nipped her lower lip, his voice low and rough, "Then you’re not going either. If you disagree, you won’t leave Ying Mountain unless I’m dead."
"Mo Zhu!"
Yu Zhiling turned her face away, evading his kiss.
Mo Zhu pressed his lips to her neck instead—after all, with her in his arms, what did it matter where he kissed her?
Their bodies pressed close, and Yu Zhiling looked down at the young man burying his face against her, showering her with heated kisses. She pushed at his head and whispered, "You know exactly why I won’t form the Twin-Life Marriage Bond with you."
Mo Zhu lifted his gaze, his eyes steady. "I know. You’re afraid you’ll die and drag me down with you."
Yu Zhiling’s expression darkened. "If you know, why are you so stubborn?"
"This isn’t stubbornness." Mo Zhu cupped her face, leaning in with unwavering focus. "Master, this is the courage we give each other. If you don’t want me to die, then fight to survive—no matter how bitter or difficult it is, come back alive. And I’ll do the same."
He kissed the corner of her lips, softening his voice to coax her. "Master, you know me. Once I’ve decided something, nothing will stop me."
"If you refuse to let me follow you, then the only way you’re leaving Ying Mountain Sect is by stepping over my corpse."
Yu Zhiling shoved him away and turned her back, as if sulking.
Mo Zhu froze for a moment. She faced away from him, her smooth, pale back marked with scattered traces of passion—every few inches, a bruise or a bite. Between her shoulder blades, faint teeth marks lingered. Last night, he’d lost himself in the heat of the moment, his control slipping, yet she hadn’t once told him to stop.
Gently, he traced a finger down her spine before carefully wrapping his arms around her from behind.
"Master… give me the Twin-Life Marriage Bond."
