"Mother?"
Jiang Kuangqiu had not moved from her position since receiving the letter. Tonight, rain was imminent, and the wind had picked up in the courtyard. She had left the window open, allowing the cold breeze to drift inside, rustling her thin white robes, making the scene appear particularly desolate.
Jiang Ciran stepped forward to drape a cloak over her shoulders. "Is it a letter from Little Five?"
"Yes," Jiang Kuangqiu replied softly, tucking away the jade token. "She plans to go to the Demon Abyss."
"Does she wish for you to accompany her?"
"Even if she hadn’t asked, now that we know, we should go."
Jiang Kuangqiu moved to the desk and sat down, lighting the lamp at its corner before lifting her gaze to Jiang Ciran. "Regarding the Lord of the Demon Realm that Yingchen was investigating before his death—have you uncovered anything else?"
Jiang Ciran shook his head. "He rarely appears in public. It’s said he remains in the demon realm."
"If he’s always been in the demon realm, why was Yingchen investigating him? And why was his portrait in the house? The conflicts between the Central Continent and the demon realm were settled long ago." Jiang Kuangqiu frowned, leaning back into the wooden chair, her eyes cold and contemplative. "Back then, Yingchen went out to exterminate evil spirits and was severely wounded, collapsing into the Unforgetting River. He was saved by that woman and lived in Jinghong Village for a year. Have we found out who injured him?"
Jiang Ciran sighed. "No. Third Brother was already a cultivator at the peak of the Divine Transformation stage, one of the most powerful figures in the Central Continent. Whoever wounded him must have been extraordinary. Now that we know he was investigating the new Demon King, I suspect..."
It was likely that Jiang Yingchen had been pursuing that very serpent from the beginning. After being gravely injured, he had collapsed into the Unforgetting River and was fortuitously rescued by A'rong, who took him back to Jinghong Village.
"But did the Demon King come to the Central Continent two hundred years ago?" Jiang Ciran’s brows furrowed as he tapped the desk lightly. "If Yingchen was chasing him, then he must have arrived in the Central Continent at least a hundred and eighty years ago. The defenses against the demon realm were so strict—how did he slip through?"
Jiang Ciran sat across from her, pouring tea with quiet deference. "Third Brother probably wasn’t after him initially. At the time, he was merely on a mission to eliminate a Nascent Soul-stage nightmare demon. Perhaps he stumbled upon something unusual along the way—a former subordinate of the Serpent King appearing in the Central Continent. Yingchen wouldn’t have let that slide, so he pursued them."
Jiang Kuangqiu’s expression darkened as she looked out the window. The towering tree in the courtyard had been planted by Jiang Yingchen in his youth. Now, after all these years, the sapling had grown into a lush giant—yet the one who planted it was gone.
The tea on the table had long gone cold. Jiang Kuangqiu murmured, "So many years have passed, and now his daughter wants to investigate as well. Since she insists on going to the Demon Abyss, let her. A'ran, this time, I’ll go."
Jiang Ciran’s lips parted as if to speak, but in the end, he swallowed his words and bowed his head. "Understood."
Yu Zhiling was nervous. She clung to the edge of the hot spring, stretching to reach the inner robe draped far away, hoping to slip out unnoticed. Just then, the door creaked open, and someone entered.
Yu Zhiling immediately retreated, covering herself, while Mo Zhu stepped out from behind the screen.
He wore only a thin inner robe, carrying a tray of peeled fruits.
"Master," Mo Zhu chuckled, setting the tray beside the spring. Seeing Yu Zhiling curled up in the corner, shielding herself, the young man’s throat bobbed, his gaze darkening. "I’ve already seen everything last night. Why hide now?"
Yu Zhiling scooped up a handful of water and splashed it at him. "Shameless! Be quiet!"
Mo Zhu’s robes clung to his damp skin. He laughed softly, his eyes brimming with adoration, then stood and began loosening his sash. Yu Zhiling quickly turned away.
She had deliberately scattered dried flowers into the spring—something she never usually used. But today, after being carried in by Mo Zhu, stripped bare, and tossed into the water, the little snake had cunningly placed her storage pouch and clothes just out of reach.
Left with no choice, Yu Zhiling had grabbed the long-forgotten dried petals by the spring and tossed them in, hoping they’d offer some cover.
He undressed swiftly. Within moments, she heard the water ripple as he stepped in.
A scorching body pressed against her back, pinning her to the edge.
"Mo Zhu, wait—"
"I can’t."
The moment she turned, Mo Zhu cupped her face and kissed her. His assault was relentless, her hands pried away from her chest, and every protest dissolved into wordless sounds.
Fifteen minutes later, she whimpered, trying to climb out, only to be dragged back and spun around. The little snake’s neck shimmered with faint scales, his pupils slitted.
"Are you part dog?!"
"Master, don’t hide. Let me kiss you."
Mo Zhu’s gaze trailed downward. She had always favored green robes—bright yellows and soft greens in her youth, deepening into muted, dignified shades as she matured.
Her undergarments had long been discarded. With her wrists pinned, her body was laid bare before him, pale skin marked with unmistakable traces. He stared, fascinated—how had she bruised so easily? Yet his hands didn’t stop.
He buried his face against her chest. Yu Zhiling arched her neck, her blood boiling under his touch. She tried to sink deeper into the water, but he hauled her back up.
"Mo Zhu," she stammered, struggling, "let’s—ah—let’s wait. The Twin Life Bond—we should form it first, okay?"
Mo Zhu’s voice was rough. "Later. Just a little longer."
Yu Zhiling channeled spiritual energy to break free, pushing the still-kissing youth away. She crossed her arms, pouting. "It hurts. Don’t be so rough..."
He was still inexperienced, and once aroused, he relied too much on brute strength—kissing, biting, squeezing—she couldn’t take it.
Mo Zhu’s face was flushed. The steamy bathhouse clung to his skin, sweat beading on his forehead. He rested his chin on her shoulder. "Sorry, Master. I can’t help it."
Loving someone truly meant wanting to cling to them every second. Everything about her was intoxicating.
Yu Zhiling wrapped her arms around his neck and bit down hard. Hearing his stifled groan, she’d meant to make him taste his own medicine—but worry made her release him quickly.
Yet Mo Zhu suddenly cradled the back of her head, pressing her to his shoulder as he nipped at her ear. "I love it. Do it again."
Yu Zhiling smacked him, leaving a red handprint. "Shut up! You’re insane!"
Mo Zhu, thoroughly pleased, nuzzled into the crook of her neck.
Yu Zhiling whispered, "Mo Zhu, the Twin Life Bond can’t be undone. If we form it, you’ll be bound to me forever."
Mo Zhu stilled.
After a pause, she hugged him tighter. "I’m much older than you. I’m a hundred and eighty. You’re only eighteen. I—"
"Don't say it, don't say anymore." Mo Zhu raised his head and covered her mouth.
Yu Zhiling only revealed her eyes, blinking in confusion, her fingers curled slightly where they rested on his shoulder.
Mo Zhu leaned down to meet her gaze, his eyes intent. "These words have been said too many times. Whether you care or not doesn’t matter. Besides, didn’t you say you’re not much older than me?"
She had said it herself during their argument a few nights ago.
At the time, she had lost control of her emotions and spoken words she shouldn’t have. She thought Mo Zhu hadn’t paid attention.
Yu Zhiling’s heart tightened with nervousness, unsure if he would overthink it. But in reality, Mo Zhu only brushed his fingers lightly against her cheek, his voice gentle. "There are things you can’t say, Master, but I can guess. How does someone who died in the Demon Abyss suddenly appear here? And all those strange things you’ve said before—were you suffering in places I didn’t know about?"
He really could figure it out.
Yu Zhiling lowered her eyes in silent admission, offering no reply.
Mo Zhu swept aside the hair at her temple, his tone calm. "There are worlds beyond this one, just as mortals say—'a single speck of dust holds three thousand realms.' How do I know I’m not the frog at the bottom of a well?"
"It doesn’t matter, Master. Whether you’re a year older than me, a hundred, or even a thousand—none of it matters. Cultivators live long lives. This truly means nothing."
Yu Zhiling could only accept his words in silence, pushing her worries aside.
Mo Zhu quickly helped her bathe, washing them both clean before lifting her out, drying their bodies, and carrying her toward the bed.
The bed curtains fell, enclosing them in dim light. The luminous pearl, sensing the darkness, began to glow softly, casting a warm radiance over the space.
Yu Zhiling’s heart pounded violently. She reached for the embroidered quilt, trying to cover herself, but Mo Zhu gently took her wrist and pulled it away.
His gaze traveled over her body, taking in every inch, as if her very presence compelled his attention.
Mo Zhu’s throat moved, his eyes darkening. Yu Zhiling turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut. "You—are you forming the marriage bond or not? Don’t... don’t look."
The young man exhaled slowly, suppressing the heat and urgency rising within him. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned the marriage contract.
Unlike ordinary bonds, the Twin-Life Marriage Contract was unbreakable. Once formed, it bound their souls—if one died, the other would perish within moments, hunted down by heavenly lightning.
Mo Zhu pressed his spiritual seal above his name, and half of the contract lit up.
"Master," he called softly.
Yu Zhiling was so tense that her heartbeat echoed loudly enough for Mo Zhu to hear. Her body flushed with embarrassment as she lay beneath him, trapped between his weight and the bed.
Mo Zhu propped himself up, watching her, waiting for her answer.
Her hand trembled as she met his unwavering gaze. Slowly, she raised her fingers and pressed them to her chest, drawing out a drop of heart’s blood.
Then, under his watchful eyes, she brought it closer to the contract, stopping just an inch away from her name.
Yu Zhiling hesitated. Unlike the frenzied insistence of days past, Mo Zhu didn’t grab her hand to force the seal. He simply waited, calm and patient, as if any decision she made would be acceptable.
Their eyes locked.
"I’ve kept many things from you," Yu Zhiling said. "Some, I may never be able to tell you."
"I know," Mo Zhu replied. "And I don’t care."
"I’ll be leading the charge into the Demon Abyss this time. Even with the others, I can’t guarantee I’ll return unharmed."
Mo Zhu’s voice softened. "Then if you die, I’ll follow you."
Yu Zhiling stared into his eyes. "Mo Zhu, how much do you love me?"
He kissed her, their tongues entwining, breaths mingling. Her palm pressed against his chest, feeling the steady, powerful rhythm of his heart.
When they parted, he wiped the moisture from her lips, his gaze hazy. "As my most precious treasure. More than life itself."
Yu Zhiling pressed her heart’s blood onto her name without hesitation.
Golden light erupted from the Twin-Life Marriage Contract, splitting in two before vanishing into their consciousness. An invisible red thread tied them together, their souls now intertwined—every breath, every heartbeat, resonating like thunder.
Mo Zhu swallowed hard, blinking as a tear escaped and fell onto Yu Zhiling’s face.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, lifting herself to kiss him again.
"Are you happy now?"
"...Mn."
"How does it feel?"
"...Very happy."
"Then why are you crying?"
"...It feels like a dream."
But it wasn’t. Her warmth was real. Her kiss was real. The pulse beneath his fingertips didn’t lie. The marriage bond etched into their souls confirmed it—all of this was real.
He had a wife now.
The kiss deepened, their restrained emotions finally breaking free. His lips burned hotter than ever before, and Yu Zhiling’s muffled whimpers escaped before she even realized Mo Zhu had lifted her into his lap.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing raggedly, her vision swimming. The hands that wielded a sword with deadly precision now explored her body with unbearable tenderness, drawing out sounds and tears she couldn’t suppress.
"Mo Zhu... Mo Zhu..."
He pleaded against her skin. "Can I? Will you let me?"
They were bonded now. There was no reason to refuse. She clung to him, nodding weakly. "Yes... yes, I’ll give it. I’ll give you everything."
They were in Yu Zhiling’s room, where the bedding was soft and layered, unlike the sparse furnishings in Mo Zhu’s quarters. The windows were barely open, and outside, the wind howled as the storm finally broke.
They held each other, kissing, touching, their voices blending together. The embroidered quilt was kicked aside in disarray, and Mo Zhu gathered her loose hair, tying it back loosely with his ribbon.
"Master," he murmured, "one last time—do you regret this?"
"No regrets. Stop talking."
"Alright."
The Listening Spring Cliff housed only the two of them. The gale outside had raged for nearly half an hour, rattling against the windows, but the barrier Mo Zhu had cast kept even a whisper of cold from entering.
The room was quiet, the pearl’s glow illuminating Yu Zhiling’s pale face. They had been locked in this stalemate for a while, neither able to advance nor retreat.
Mo Zhu rested his forehead against her collarbone, sweat dripping from his brow, his hair pushed back haphazardly. He wanted to soothe her, but in this position, he didn’t know how.
Yu Zhiling’s fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks. Her face was bloodless, her brows furrowed tightly. The pearl’s light washed over her, emphasizing her pallor.
Mo Zhu’s heart ached as he kissed the corner of her lips and caressed her body, trying to ease her tension, even though he himself was unbearably restless—but she was suffering more than he was.
Yu Zhiling buried her face in the crook of his neck, her voice trembling. "Mo… Mo Zhu…"
Neither of them knew what they were doing. Fumbling and clumsy, they ended up hurting each other, having neglected even the most basic preparations. She was frantic, and so was he. The sheer difference in size between a human cultivator and a demonic cultivator had been apparent last night when she first saw his body—she had known then that she was in for a rough time.
But now, faced with the reality, she realized she had underestimated it.
They had been stuck like this for half an hour. Mo Zhu glanced down and saw bloodstains on the brocaded bedding. Her face was still pale, and the moment he moved even slightly, Yu Zhiling’s tears spilled over. In the end, he could only grit his teeth and withdraw, laying her gently back on the bed.
Kissing away her sweat and tears, Mo Zhu murmured between kisses, "Shizun, Shizun, do you know how? What should I do to stop your tears?"
Yu Zhiling had no idea. She only knew where to begin. Clinging to his neck, she stammered, "I—I don’t know. Do you… do you have any manuals?"
"What manuals?"
"You know… those manuals."
Of course Mo Zhu didn’t have any. He had never bothered with such things. Now, his entire body burned with restraint. "No, I’ve never looked at them."
Yu Zhiling covered her face and sobbed. "Why didn’t you? You don’t know anything, and neither do I! You’re hurting me so much—go and learn! You’re supposed to be the one who knows this! I only taught you swordsmanship—why must I teach you this too?!"
She was being utterly unreasonable, but in truth, this wasn’t something effort alone could solve. The sheer difference in their sizes was the real problem.
Mo Zhu fumbled to wipe her tears. "Shizun, don’t cry, don’t cry."
Yu Zhiling wailed, "You just barged in without a care! You knew I couldn’t take it, yet you didn’t even prepare anything beforehand!"
Mo Zhu hurriedly soothed her. "I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to prepare. I didn’t think it through. Are you still in pain? I’ve already pulled out."
"Shut up!" Yu Zhiling slapped a hand over his mouth, furious. "Demonic cultivators and human cultivators are fundamentally incompatible! I regret this—go find someone else—"
"Shizun." Mo Zhu pulled her hand away, his dark eyes fixed on her.
Yu Zhiling immediately swallowed the rest of her words. She had lost her temper and spoken without thinking.
They stared at each other in silence for a long moment before Yu Zhiling’s lips quivered, and fresh tears welled up. "But it really hurts… What do we do? Go and learn, won’t you?"
She shouldn’t have cared about such superficial wounds. Strictly speaking, it was just discomfort—both of them had likely suffered minor injuries.
When Sui Ji had broken her ribs, the pain had been far worse. But this time, the pain came from Mo Zhu. This was her first experience with such intimacy, and between the embarrassment, panic, and pain—facing someone she loved and trusted so deeply—she couldn’t control her frustration. She just wanted to lash out at him.
Seeing her cry again, Mo Zhu quickly wiped her tears and coaxed her. "Don’t cry, don’t cry. We won’t continue tonight. I’ll prepare properly and try again tomorrow, alright?"
Yu Zhiling sniffled, covering her face. "At dawn, you’ll go buy manuals. You will study them. And—and get some aids… Just ask the shopkeeper—he’ll know what you mean!"
Right now, he would agree to anything.
"I’ll go down the mountain at dawn to buy them, alright?"
"…Don’t let Shixiong find out. Cover your face—no one can know it’s my disciple buying such things."
"Alright, alright. They won’t find out."
Finally, she stopped crying. Mo Zhu lifted a luminous pearl to inspect the bedding—the green brocade was stained. His brows furrowed. His own body bore traces of her blood, and guilt gnawed at him. He shouldn’t have been so reckless.
They had both been too impatient, carried away by passion without proper preparation.
Mo Zhu fetched a basin of water, lifted the bed curtains, and knelt on the mattress.
"Shizun, let me clean you up."
Yu Zhiling ignored him, eyes shut tight.
Mo Zhu exhaled shakily, carefully wiping her down. When she flinched and let out a muffled whimper—only to quickly suppress it and pretend nothing had happened—he froze.
The young man’s throat bobbed as if lost in thought, unmoving for a long while.
Yu Zhiling waited, but when he still didn’t continue, she opened her eyes—only to find him staring blankly at… there.
"Mo Zhu!" Shizun immediately bristled, scrambling to pull the covers over herself, but Mo Zhu caught her wrist.
Yu Zhiling panicked. "Mo Zhu, what are you doing?!"
Kneeling on the bed, his eyes darkened with desire. "I’m sorry. Earlier, I only thought of myself. Let me make it up to you. I’ll try something else—Shizun will feel better this way."
Try something else?
He had figured out another method.
Mo Zhu lowered his head. Yu Zhiling clutched the bedding tightly.
Outside, orange blossoms carpeted the courtyard. The curfew bell had rung over Ying Mountain—only night patrol disciples were permitted to keep lanterns lit. Yet, the entire Listening Spring Cliff blazed with light, illuminated by thousands of luminous pearls. The downpour outside drowned out all other sounds.
By dawn, the jade token by the bedside flickered once—unanswered.
Mo Zhu brought tea, lifting the bed curtains—only for a pillow to smack him square in the face.
"Get out!"
Unfazed, the disciple caught it, pulling his bristling Shizun into his arms and pressing the teacup to her lips. "Drink some water. Aren’t you thirsty?"
Yu Zhiling fumed. "You drink it!"
Mo Zhu chuckled. "I’ve already had my fill."
"Ugh—get lost!"
Yu Zhiling couldn’t help but take it the wrong way. She slapped him hard—a vivid red handprint bloomed on his cheek.
After much coaxing, she finally drank the tea, soothing her hoarse throat. The moment she set the cup down, Mo Zhu leaned in for a kiss—only for Shizun to clamp a hand over his mouth.
"Don’t you dare kiss me with that mouth today!"
Mo Zhu whined, nuzzling her. "But I washed! It’s fine."
Shizun, however, was merciless. Kicking and hitting, she practically booted the snake bastard out of the room.
Mo Zhu stood outside the firmly shut door, then suddenly laughed.
She might still be sore, but her punches packed a punch. Good thing he had reached the Tribulation Transcendence stage—he could just barely withstand his Shizun’s fists.
With a flick of his wrist, Mo Zhu summoned their marriage vow—a shimmering contract bearing their names side by side in the corner.
The more he looked at it, the wider his grin grew. With this vow, they belonged to each other for life. More importantly—she had agreed.
She had agreed to marry him, to be his Dao companion, to stay with him forever.
Forever was a long time. Once two Tribulation Transcendence cultivators ascended, their lives would stretch on endlessly.
Mo Zhu left, heading straight for the Teaching Hall.
When he knocked and entered, Yan Shanqing had just finished reviewing a stack of petitions. He lowered his gaze and asked in a deep voice, "You also want to go to the Demon Abyss with Little Five, don’t you? If she agrees, then go ahead—"
"Headmaster."
Mo Zhu knelt down.
Yan Shanqing frowned slightly. "What are you doing?"
Mo Zhu replied calmly, "This disciple and my master have already formed the Twin Life Marriage Bond. I apologize for not holding a wedding ceremony before sealing the bond. After returning from the Demon Abyss, I will make a trip to the Nether Sea. There are resources left behind by my parents there, and I will prepare a wedding to properly marry my master."
Yan Shanqing froze for a moment. "You… you two…"
Mo Zhu lowered his head. "My master and I have formed the Twin Life Marriage Bond."
The hall fell into silence for a long while. Then, a crisp sound echoed.
Yan Shanqing set down his brush and leaned back in his chair, his voice indifferent. "The Twin Life Marriage Bond—do you even know what that is?"
Mo Zhu nodded. "I do."
"Who initiated it?"
"I did."
Yan Shanqing fell silent, his fingers lightly tapping the desk as his dark eyes bore into Mo Zhu below.
Mo Zhu neither stood up nor spoke further, his expression composed.
Yan Shanqing chuckled, though his eyes held no mirth. "I’ve long wanted Little Five to bring you here, Mo Zhu. Just how many secrets do you still have?"
Mo Zhu lifted his gaze. "About my cultivation—I know the entire Ying Mountain finds it unusual. Perhaps this trip to the Demon Abyss will bring answers. When the time comes, I will personally explain everything to the headmaster and the elders. My master and I already have our suspicions."
Yan Shanqing’s voice turned cold. "Now that we know Youzhou is connected to the new Demon King, and you’ve always sought revenge—once this matter is resolved, do you plan to return to the Demon Realm and claim the throne? After all, many of your kind are searching for you."
Mo Zhu shook his head. "This disciple will not return. I will remain at Ying Mountain."
Yan Shanqing scoffed. "How can I trust you? In any case, Little Five will never follow you back to the Demon Realm."
"I understand." Mo Zhu answered without hesitation. "Nor will I let her leave this place. Her home is here, and my home is by her side."
Yan Shanqing was stunned, all the words he had prepared to refute Mo Zhu dying in his throat.
He had assumed Mo Zhu would return to become the Demon King—after all, most of the demon race still recognized the bloodline of the Teng Serpent. Between ruling a race and remaining an inner disciple of a sect, most would choose the former.
The affections of an eighteen-year-old might just be the fleeting infatuation of youth, unlikely to withstand the trials of time.
Yet he had bound himself with an unbreakable Twin Life Marriage Bond, and now he was even willing to forsake the chance to rule the Demon Realm.
Mo Zhu pressed his forehead to the ground and spoke softly, "As the eldest brother, you are like a father to her. The matter happened suddenly, and we did not have time to seek your permission. Now, I come to atone for my offense and to make you a promise—I will take responsibility for my master. Nothing that she deserves will be lacking."
What more could Yan Shanqing say? The bond was already sealed, and everyone could see how much Yu Zhiling adored Mo Zhu. At first, he had believed Mo Zhu unworthy of her—even now, knowing he was a prince of the Teng Serpent, he still thought so.
But what did it matter?
Little Five loved him.
In the end, a thousand words condensed into one sentence.
"Mo Zhu, Little Five was raised by us. She is precious to Ying Mountain. You must treat her well—love her for the rest of your life."
Mo Zhu vowed, "This disciple will remember."
