Mo Zhu was in the courtyard while Yu Zhiling sat cross-legged on the daybed inside, listening to the noises outside—he must have been chopping firewood.
The jade token had been taken by him, cutting off Yu Zhiling’s connection with Sui Ji. Yet, since she hadn’t met Sui Ji all night, he must have already guessed something was wrong.
Yu Zhiling hugged her knees and sat quietly for a while. The sounds from the courtyard hadn’t ceased—he was still there, likely waiting to block her.
After a moment, she stood up, put on her outer robe, and pulled open the door. Mo Zhu sat in the corner of the yard, and the aroma of roasted sweet potatoes wafted through the air.
"Mo Zhu," she called softly, settling beside him. She studied his sharp profile, but he didn’t look at her, only using his spiritual energy to disperse the smoke drifting toward her.
"Talk to me, won’t you?"
She wrapped her arms around his and leaned closer. Mo Zhu didn’t pull away, remaining seated beside her.
He had demanded the Twin Marriage Vow all night, but Yu Zhiling had refused to yield. He was stubborn, and she was just as obstinate. In the end, they parted in frustration, and if this continued, they’d only argue again. So Mo Zhu had gotten up, dressed, and left.
But he hadn’t gone far—just stayed in the courtyard to prepare food for her while keeping her from leaving.
Yu Zhiling said, "Mo Zhu, don’t be upset with me anymore, alright?"
His hand, feeding the fire, stilled. He turned his head to look at her.
"Does Shizun think I’m just throwing a tantrum?"
Asking for the Twin Marriage Vow, blocking her from leaving—was all of this just him being petty?
Yu Zhiling immediately realized her mistake and raised her hands in surrender. "My bad, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant."
Mo Zhu fished out the sweet potatoes, dusted them off, and handed one to her without looking. "Eat something to fill your stomach."
She took it meekly, carefully peeling the skin while stealing glances at him from the corner of her eye.
He seemed calm, no different from usual—neither angry nor unbothered.
"Want a bite?" She held the sweet potato to his lips, trying to coax him. "Let’s talk later?"
Mo Zhu turned his face away. "This disciple isn’t hungry. Shizun should eat."
Yu Zhiling withdrew her hand and lowered her head. "Alright."
The fire crackled, casting a warm glow on their faces. She inched closer until their shoulders touched, then cautiously rested her head against his. Sure enough, she felt the tension in his body ease.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed the stiffness in his lips softening too.
Her disciple was easy to placate. All he needed was for his Shizun to reach out, to give him a little reassurance, and he’d soothe himself.
"Mo Zhu," she murmured.
"Mn. This disciple is here." He turned to her, but before he could react, Yu Zhiling tilted her head up and pressed her lips to his.
He froze for a second before responding, cupping her face as he kissed her back. The sweetness of the sweet potato mingled with their shared warmth, deepening the embrace.
Yu Zhiling hooked her arms around his neck, letting him guide her into his lap. The sweet potato was set aside as he wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her fervently.
The slightest initiative from her sent him into a frenzy.
They kissed until her lips grew numb. She pulled away slightly, peppering kisses along his brow, his eyelids—slow, deliberate.
The frustration and unease Mo Zhu had harbored all night melted under that lingering kiss.
Yu Zhiling buried her face in the crook of his neck, their bodies pressed flush together.
In a soft, coquettish voice, she murmured, "Mo Zhu, my thighs are sore. Come inside and take a look, won’t you?"
He understood her meaning. They hadn’t gone all the way, but they’d certainly explored everything else.
The tips of his ears burned red, the flush spreading beneath his collar. His usual composure shattered under her teasing.
"S-sorry." His fingers tightened around her waist as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, voice rough. "I’ll be more careful next time. Sorry."
Yu Zhiling coaxed him gently, "Don’t wait for next time. Let’s go inside now—all the way, okay?"
Mo Zhu fell silent. Her hands slid down from his shoulders, tracing the embroidery on his black robes before lingering at his waistband, fingers toying with the tie.
Just as she was about to undo it, he spoke.
"Shizun… are you planning to knock me out while I’m distracted?"
Her fingers stilled.
A chill ran down her spine, but she quickly forced a smile. "Why would you think that?"
Mo Zhu almost sighed. She was terrible at acting—her thoughts were always so transparent.
He didn’t answer, but his gaze bore into her. Slowly, her smile faded. His hand closed over hers, stopping her movements.
Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "Can your fingers heal?"
Yu Zhiling had expected an argument, not this. She blinked. "What?"
"Your hand," he said quietly.
She looked down. His palm dwarfed hers—her fingers were slender, her skin paler, but the calluses from years of sword practice were thicker than his.
He had only trained for a little over a decade. She had wielded a sword for nearly two centuries.
The joints of her right index finger were sunken, her thumb slightly misshapen. That was what he meant.
Her fingers curled slightly. "It’s fine. All sword cultivators are like this. The grip molds to the sword."
She didn’t understand why he’d asked, nor how to convince him to let her go.
Mo Zhu studied her. From his angle, her lashes cast shadows over her eyes, her head drooping like a dejected little animal. She never seemed like the revered Immortal Lord of Zhongzhou—except when she fought, her authority undeniable.
"Is the sword important to you?"
Yu Zhiling hesitated, confused, but nodded. "...Yes."
"Why?"
"Because… when I hold it, I can protect those behind me. This sword has saved many lives alongside me."
Mo Zhu brushed his thumb along her cheekbone before kissing the corner of her lips. "Shizun has used this sword to protect many. We’re all grateful. But at the same time… I hope Shizun remembers you’re not alone."
"Why must you shoulder everything yourself? Even wolves know survival is easier in packs—hunting together yields better results. My people, the Tengshe, may be few in number, but we stay united. No matter where the demon race migrates, the Tengshe remain together."
Yu Zhiling clutched his collar. "I… I just don’t want any of you to get hurt…"
"But we also fear something might happen to you, Master." Mo Zhu's deep voice cut her off as his calloused thumb brushed gently against her cheek. "Master, I'll give you one day. Starting now, I won't appear before you. Whether you choose to leave the mountain or stay, I won’t stop you."
Yu Zhiling had thought of countless ways to convince Mo Zhu to let her go. She needed to reach the Demon Abyss, and she didn’t want them to know about it.
The one thing she hadn’t expected was for Mo Zhu to be so decisive—just when she thought he would be furious, he instead let her go.
Mo Zhu’s kiss was as bold and overwhelming as he was. During that half-hour in the courtyard, it was as if he knew it would be their last, pouring all his love into it.
Finally, their lips parted, foreheads still pressed together. Mo Zhu wiped the dampness from her lips, his eyes dark as he murmured, "Master, as you wish. The choice is yours."
Even after he left, Yu Zhiling remained dazed.
He had returned her jade token and handed over the prepared Qiankun bag. The Listening Spring Cliff stood empty—Mo Zhu had gone elsewhere.
Yu Zhiling activated the jade token, and the connection was swift.
"Were you discovered?" Sui Ji asked bluntly. "I waited for you outside the Four Slaughter Realm for a long time, but you never came. Just as the realm began to stir, Yun Zhi arrived, so I had to hide."
Yu Zhiling sat by the stone table, her gaze falling on the two sweet potatoes placed side by side.
"Sui Ji, give me one more day."
Silence stretched on the other end before Sui Ji finally replied, "Fine."
The connection ended without further questions, no urging for her to hurry to the Four Slaughter Realm.
Yu Zhiling stepped out of her courtyard. Mo Zhu had said he would give her the choice—today, he wouldn’t appear before her, whether she left or stayed.
She descended the mountain path, passing step after step. Occasionally, disciples greeted her warmly, and Yu Zhiling never turned them away with a cold face. No matter how troubled her heart was, her smile remained gentle.
Before she knew it, she found herself at a bamboo grove.
A rustling sound came from within. Yu Zhiling lingered at the edge, hidden in the shadows, watching as a tall figure in red emerged from the path. His dark hair was half-tied with a jade hairpin.
Beside him walked another. "Master, you’ve nurtured these southern bamboos for a hundred years. Why suddenly cut them down now?" Zhan Shuo asked.
Xiang Wuxue chuckled. "Xiaowu wants a swing. These bamboos are sturdy, their color beautiful—they’ll make a fine one."
Zhan Shuo lowered his voice. "Just for a swing? Other bamboos would do just as well."
Xiang Wuxue carried a thick bamboo pole effortlessly, his expression unbothered.
"Xiaowu deserves the best. And these are the best."
Yu Xiaowu lived in the finest place—Listening Spring Cliff. Yu Xiaowu wore robes of the finest silk. Even a single hairpin for Yu Xiaowu had to be adorned with the finest pearls.
Yu Xiaowu also had the best senior brothers, sisters, and master.
Yu Zhiling watched as Xiang Wuxue and Zhan Shuo carried the bamboo away. Her cultivation far surpassed theirs—they would never sense her presence.
She left the grove and continued toward the mountain gate, passing Ning Hengwu’s peak. From the heights, she spotted Ning Hengwu bustling in her courtyard.
Though cold in demeanor and an obsessive doter when it came to Yu Xiaowu, Ning Hengwu was a peerless healer. Every year, she held free clinics within Yingshan’s borders—a truly noble physician.
She was drying herbs when Fu Zhao arrived, carrying a basket of fruits and snacks to pester her. The proud Voidfire Rhinoceros acted like a quail in her presence, soon chased away.
Ning Hengwu carefully stored Fu Zhao’s offerings in the pavilion at the courtyard’s edge.
Yu Zhiling had visited often these past days, devouring everything Fu Zhao brought. Ning Hengwu saved them all for her, pulling them out the moment she arrived so she could eat her fill.
After watching for a while, Yu Zhiling slipped away once Ning Hengwu returned indoors.
Next was the neighboring peak—Mei Qiongge’s lavish courtyard.
The daughter of a human emperor lived extravagantly, obsessed with beauty. Her courtyard was opulent, and she lounged lazily in a golden robe on a recliner.
A small table beside her held gold leaf and gemstones. Mei Qiongge was skilled—many of her adornments were crafted by her own hands. Now, she was decorating a gold hairpin.
Yu Zhiling perched on the roof, listening to her mutter, "No, too flashy. Xiaowu wouldn’t like this."
Mei Qiongge was wealthy enough to discard anything unsuitable. With a flick of spiritual power, the hairpin melted away.
She rummaged through her Qiankun bag, finally pulling out a wooden box. Inside lay a pale-red jade.
Holding it up to the light, Mei Qiongge nodded in approval. "Good. Clear and flawless—perfect for a pair of pendant earrings for Xiaowu."
Such a priceless treasure had no purpose other than becoming earrings for her junior sister.
Yu Zhiling watched her work meticulously—grinding the jade, carving patterns—for a full hour before one earring was complete.
Before Mei Qiongge noticed her, Yu Zhiling left again. This time, she neared the mountain’s base.
A hundred zhang up from Yingshan’s entrance stood the sect’s Teaching Hall, where Yan Shanqing often stayed.
Unlike the courtyards, Yu Zhiling couldn’t peer inside from above. The hall’s doors were shut tight.
If she entered, Yan Shanqing would know.
Instead, she found a rock outside and sat, hidden in a corner, chin resting on her knees as she absently watched ants scurry—perhaps rain was coming.
She stayed until dusk, the day nearly gone. She only had this one day.
Rising, she glanced back at the Teaching Hall. A faint light glowed within—Yan Shanqing was there.
In the end, she couldn’t muster the courage to enter. Yu Zhiling turned away.
"Yu Xiaowu."
A cool voice called out.
She froze, looking back.
Yan Shanqing stood at the hall’s entrance, hands behind his back, gazing down at her from the steps.
Yu Zhiling pressed her lips together, straightening. "Eldest Brother."
"Why didn’t you come in?"
"How did you know I was here?"
"This is Yingshan Sect’s Teaching Hall."
Realization struck—the hall was surrounded by arrays. They didn’t block her, but Yan Shanqing hadn’t activated them. The moment she approached, he knew.
After waiting for a long time without anyone entering, Yan Shanqing seemed to have lost focus on his official duties.
Yu Zhiling lowered her head, looking as if she had done something wrong. "Eldest Senior Brother, I just came to see you. I was worried I might disturb your work, so I’ll leave now."
Yan Shanqing called out to her, "Xiaowu."
His voice deepened slightly, and Yu Zhiling keenly sensed something was off.
Yan Shanqing stood on the three-step-high platform, looking down at her. Having been the sect leader for many years, his expression turned stern when he frowned, his gaze dark and heavy.
"You were raised by me."
So, he had noticed her unusual mood from the start.
When she had brought gifts earlier, her senior brothers and sisters had already sensed something was amiss. Yan Shanqing had asked Wu Zhaoyan to inquire with Sui Ji, wondering if he had said something to Yu Zhiling.
Yu Zhiling quickly raised her head. "Eldest Senior Brother."
Yan Shanqing turned and walked inside, his voice cold. "Come in."
He had been working here since early morning. Though Yan Shanqing was the leader of the Yingshan Sect, his responsibilities extended beyond the sect itself, encompassing the entire Yingshan region—reports of evil spirits appearing in towns, mysterious murders—all had to be reviewed by him.
Only a single lamp was lit in the hall, casting a dim glow. Yu Zhiling rubbed her arms. "Eldest Senior Brother, why don’t you light more lamps? You’ll ruin your eyes like this."
Cultivators didn’t suffer from nearsightedness, but Yu Zhiling, having once been a modern person, couldn’t shake some habits so easily.
Yan Shanqing paused for a moment, but in the next instant, he acted as if nothing had happened.
"Have some tea."
He cleared the documents from the desk and handed her a cup.
"Thank you, Senior Brother."
Perhaps because Yu Zhiling had bothered him often in the past, there was even a soft chair in the sect leader’s office. She pulled it out without hesitation and sat across from Yan Shanqing.
Yu Zhiling held the teacup to warm her hands, taking only small sips while stealing glances at Yan Shanqing, who was brewing tea across from her.
His eyes were lowered, his expression as stern as ever, but the fine lines at the corners of his eyes had deepened compared to a few months ago. Lately, with so much work, he hadn’t been sleeping well.
A pang of sadness struck Yu Zhiling’s heart, and she said softly, "Senior Brother, you need to take care of yourself. Rest when you should, go out and relax when you can. If you meet a female cultivator you like, be more proactive. Don’t always shut yourself inside Yingshan Sect."
At first, her words sounded like casual chatter, but gradually, they took on a different tone—more like earnest advice.
As if a family member were about to embark on a long journey, leaving behind reminders for those staying home.
Don’t overwork yourself, don’t neglect your health, take walks, make friends, look after yourself and those around you.
"The Infinite Realm will sustain Yingshan for a long time. You and our senior brothers and sisters will likely ascend within two thousand years. Everything will be peaceful—"
"Xiaowu."
Yan Shanqing cut her off.
The new tea was ready. He skimmed off the foam and refilled her cup with warm tea.
"When you first came to Yingshan Sect, you were less than a month old. I was already two hundred and thirty, and even Qiongge was a hundred."
Caught off guard by his interruption, Yu Zhiling accepted the tea and murmured, "Yes, I’m much younger than all of you."
Yan Shanqing leaned back in his wide chair, his gaze fixed on Yu Zhiling’s face.
"Back then, our master was busy, so the four of us took turns raising you. Raising a child wasn’t easy. You were so small—if we laid you down, you’d cry. Someone had to hold you day and night, feeding you, changing your clothes, carrying you until you grew stronger."
Yu Zhiling’s grip on the teacup tightened. For some reason, hearing this made her nose sting with unshed tears.
"Your Second Senior Sister spent her days perfecting spiritual elixirs for you. Third Senior Brother carved wooden horses and a cradle for you, filling the room with toys. Fourth Senior Sister was wealthy—even a single outfit for you cost more than a common family’s expenses for years. We gave you everything we could, cherished you with all our hearts."
"When you grew a little older, before you were even one, you could already walk. Your senior brothers and sisters would stand at the end of the path, watching you toddle toward us, babbling ‘Senior Brother’ and ‘Senior Sister.’ We were overjoyed, competing over who you called more each day."
"Later, at three years old, you entered the Path of Clarity. In all these millennia, fewer than fifty in the Central Plains have walked this path. The day you established your Dao Heart, all of Yingshan celebrated. We held a feast for three days."
"When you were seven..."
Yan Shanqing’s voice was gentle, his expression softening with memories.
But Yu Zhiling’s head sank lower, the tea in her hands cooling from scalding to lukewarm.
"At fifty, you won the Champion of Heroes tournament. We knew you did it for Yun Zhi, but afterward, you said being first felt amazing—that Yu Zhiling deserved only the best. You won three times in a row. We were so proud. You were the pride of all of us."
Yu Zhiling’s hands trembled now, her vision blurring.
"At a hundred and ten, our master died. And you changed."
The tender reminiscing ended. A tear fell from Yu Zhiling’s eye, splashing into the teacup and rippling the still surface.
"At a hundred and seventy, you went to the Slaughter Realm. The greatest regret of my life was letting you go there."
Yu Zhiling still didn’t speak, her shaking body betraying her emotions.
The two sat in silence until Yan Shanqing finally asked, "You’re a hundred and eighty now. Your senior brothers and sisters have watched over you all these years. If you die, we’ll be ruined. We’ll never move on."
"Yu Xiaowu, are you still determined to go?"
Yu Zhiling suddenly dropped to her knees. "I’m sorry! I was wrong, Senior Brother! I was wrong!"
She collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, her cries raw and broken like a wounded beast. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders and onto the floor as she repeated her apologies, over and over.
"I was wrong, it was my fault, all my fault!"
She had been ready to face death, believing her sacrifice was for their sake, for their good—but she had never considered what would happen to Yan Shanqing and the others if she left again.
To lose her, regain her, only to lose her once more—such repeated blows would destroy them.
They had raised their junior sister for over a century, pouring their hearts into her, wanting nothing more than for her to remain Yu Xiaowu. But she insisted on becoming Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, shouldering the burden of eliminating threats alone.
She had lingered outside for so long—how could Yan Shanqing not have noticed?
After one devastating loss, even the slightest change put them on edge.
Yan Shanqing knelt before her, pulling the sobbing Yu Zhiling up. Though he didn’t cry, his eyes were red, his expression complex.
Rough fingers wiped away her tears as he said firmly, "You were planning to leave, weren’t you?"
Yu Zhiling continued to weep. "I have no choice, no choice at all! I want you all to live. As long as he exists, none of you will be safe. I can’t accept this—I just can’t!"
Yan Shanqing used his sleeve to wipe her tears, but they wouldn’t stop falling.
"Xiaowu, when the spirit of Chengfeng Blade awakened two months ago, and the spirit of Zhuqing Sword stirred in response, do you know how your senior brothers and sisters felt?"
Yu Zhiling’s vision blurred as her eyes brimmed with tears, droplets rolling down her pale cheeks.
She shook her head silently, wordlessly answering him.
Yan Shanqing said, "I slapped myself over a dozen times. I wanted to throw myself off the mountain and end it all. I failed to recognize you, I wavered in my doubts, I didn’t take care of you—letting you die alone in the Sishajing."
"Your second sister vomited blood, overwhelmed with grief, and fainted for an entire night. Your third brother wandered back in a daze, tumbling down the mountain path, weeping for hours. When I sent word to your fourth sister, she wailed through the jade token and immediately set out for Yingshan."
"So, ten years later, are you going to walk the same old path again, leaving your brothers and sisters drowning in guilt, unable to go on living?"
Yu Zhiling threw herself into his arms, her tears soaking his robes. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It’s my fault, all my fault! I won’t do it again, I swear I won’t!"
In the space where she couldn’t see, Yan Shanqing closed his eyes, and the tears he had long suppressed finally fell.
He raised a hand, gently stroking Yu Zhiling’s head, then patted her back.
"Xiaowu, don’t die for us. Live for us instead."
The full moon rose, and stars scattered across the night sky.
After leaving the teaching hall, Yu Zhiling visited each of her senior brothers and sisters in their courtyards.
She embraced Ning Hengwu, Xiang Wuxue, and Mei Qiongge, murmuring apologies as they held her in return, startled yet soothing.
"Senior brothers, senior sister, I’m sorry."
"Xiaowu, it’s alright."
No matter how grave her mistakes, they would always say—it’s alright.
As long as Yu Xiaowu was still by their side.
Yu Zhiling returned to Tingchun Cliff. Pushing open the gate, she found a young man standing in the yard.
She met his calm, dark eyes.
They stood in silence, saying nothing yet speaking volumes.
After a long while, Mo Zhu stepped forward, lifting a hand to brush the redness at the corners of her eyes. "Shizun didn’t leave."
Yu Zhiling mumbled, "What if I really had?"
Mo Zhu answered honestly, "Shizun wouldn’t have gotten far. I was waiting at the foot of the mountain."
Yu Zhiling laughed, tilting her head with a narrowed gaze. "You tricked me. You said the choice was mine, so why were you lying in wait?"
Mo Zhu pressed a light kiss to her tear-stained eyelid. "I lied to Shizun. It’s called a strategic retreat."
Yu Zhiling asked, "Did you know I’d go see them?"
"You would. You couldn’t bear not to." Mo Zhu cradled her face, kissing her tenderly. "Yesterday, Shizun went to the elders before leaving. Today was the same. With your emotions so unstable, they would’ve noticed something was wrong the moment they saw you."
So Yu Zhiling hadn’t dared to face Ning Hengwu, Xiang Wuxue, or Mei Qiongge. She hadn’t planned to see Yan Shanqing either—until he found her by chance.
And it was Yan Shanqing’s intervention that made her realize: Heaven had given her a second chance, yet she’d been ready to repeat the same tragedy from ten years ago. How could she?
Yu Zhiling buried her face in his chest, pinching his waist playfully. "You little snake, scheming against your own shizun."
Mo Zhu nuzzled her neck, his voice rough. "We had a conflict. It was affecting us. But I didn’t want to fight with Shizun, so I had to find another way."
So he gambled—betting that Yu Zhiling would seek out Yan Shanqing, that they would see through her distress, that their words would bring her back.
He wanted her to understand: Immortal Lord Zhuoyu didn’t matter. Yu Xiaowu did.
Dying for them wasn’t the answer. Living for them was.
Yu Zhiling murmured, "You’re so clever. I’ve figured it out now."
Mo Zhu ruffled her hair. "What has Shizun figured out?"
"I shouldn’t sacrifice myself alone. If the tragedy from ten years ago repeated, they wouldn’t survive it. I’d drive them mad."
"And?"
"And... I’m still going to the Demon Abyss."
Mo Zhu’s hand stilled. His body tensed, his expression turning cold.
Yu Zhiling pulled back, meeting his frosty gaze with a smile. "But this time, I won’t be alone."
She reached out to him. "Will you come with me? Not just you—all of them, my friends."
On her way back to Tingchun Cliff, she had sent messages to Yun Zhi, Wu Zhaoyan, Liu Guizheng, even Zhongli Yang, and the Jiang Family far away, asking them to join her in the Demon Abyss.
Their replies were all the same:
—Yes.
Mo Zhu looked at her. Her eyes, bright as ever, held the same light they had years ago.
He felt his heartbeat thunder, watched his own hand rise to clasp hers.
"Mm. Yes."
Mo Zhu had never opposed her desire to protect these people. If she chose a path of survival, he would rejoice for her.
If she chose death, he wouldn’t stop her—so long as she let him follow, granting him the right to die by her side.
Yu Zhiling rose on her toes, looping her arms around his neck to press a kiss to his lips. "During our fight... were you hurting?"
Mo Zhu circled her waist, resting his forehead against hers with a soft nuzzle. "Mm. I was."
Yu Zhiling exhaled, her breath warm. "Let me make it up to you."
"How?"
"With a Twin Life Vow. Let’s get married."
