"Where is Yu Xiaowu?"
Ning Hengwu had just pushed open the door when she heard Yan Shanqing's low, frustrated shout.
She chuckled and replied, "Xiaowu went to the Nether Sea."
Yan Shanqing's face flushed red with anger. On the table lay the letter Yu Zhiling had left behind.
Ning Hengwu picked it up and glanced at it.
—"Eldest Senior Brother, I’ll be gone for a couple of days."
Yan Shanqing muttered irritably, "She just got back, didn’t even have a meal together, and immediately ran off again. She’s becoming more and more of a wanderer."
Ning Hengwu laughed softly, carefully folding the letter before setting it down. Calmly, she asked, "The demon realm sent envoys again. They’ve been stationed near Ying Mountain for days."
Yan Shanqing’s expression instantly darkened. "What do they want? Didn’t Mo Zhu already say he won’t return to the demon realm?"
"He did, but the demon realm is without a ruler now. They need someone to take charge. Besides, Mo Zhu is the last of the Flying Serpent royal bloodline. It’s understandable." She poured herself a cup of tea and sat across from Yan Shanqing. "What do you plan to do?"
Yan Shanqing remained composed, flipping through a dossier. "Ignore them. Back then, they believed Chou Xiao’s lies and turned against the Flying Serpent royal family. Now they regret it, but Mo Zhu clearly has no intention of going back. Let it be."
Ning Hengwu hesitated. "Then… what about Xiaowu and Mo Zhu’s marriage…?"
Yan Shanqing paused mid-writing and looked up. "What do they think?"
"Mo Zhu was recovering from his injuries—he was severely wounded last time, so the matter was postponed. We’ll discuss it later."
Yan Shanqing chuckled and shook his head before resuming his work.
The jade token at Ning Hengwu’s waist kept chiming. She silenced it, but the calls persisted. Without lifting his head, Yan Shanqing remarked dryly, "That boy again?"
"Mn." Ning Hengwu’s expression was indifferent. "Annoying. He shows up in front of me every day."
Yan Shanqing shook his head.
Ning Hengwu had a soft heart. If she truly disliked someone, she wouldn’t even let them step foot inside her residence. The fact that Fu Zhao could enter her home daily to help with chores meant she had already made concessions.
No one in Ying Mountain was truly cold-hearted—everyone was soft to the core.
Yu Zhiling and Mo Zhu arrived at the Nether Sea.
Just before reaching their destination, they stowed away their miniature boat and continued on foot. Passing through a bamboo grove, Mo Zhu suddenly stopped.
Yu Zhiling squeezed his hand. "What’s wrong?"
Mo Zhu raised his hand, pointing into the distance. "Do you remember this place, Master?"
The bamboo forest was deep and serene. It was early spring, and the wind carried a faint chill. She paused, searching her memories until she recalled where they were.
"I was only three years old then, cradled in my mother’s arms. You were standing right there."
When the Miao Wan family had fled the Nether Sea and were ambushed, little Mo Zhu had peeked out from the cloak his mother had wrapped around him. Amidst the sea of enemies, he had spotted a lone figure at the forefront.
A slender figure in a plain green robe, hair cascading to the waist, a sword gleaming coldly in hand. Just a single glimpse of that back had etched itself into his memory for years.
Yu Zhiling remembered. She smiled. "I recall. Back then, I accidentally wandered into the Nether Sea while hunting evil spirits. Severely injured, I fell into the sea, and your mother saved me. I owed her my life. When she begged for my help, I knew your family was in trouble."
"So you came to the Nether Sea and carved a path for my parents to escape to the Central Continent. The debt was repaid—so why did you later give my mother that luminous pearl?"
"Because I knew the Flying Serpent clan was innocent. I wanted at least some of you to survive."
Their eyes met. After two lifetimes, they were no longer the same people they once were.
Mo Zhu had never imagined that the savior he’d glimpsed as a child would one day become his heart, his soul—the person he’d willingly give his life to protect.
He cupped Yu Zhiling’s face and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.
Yu Zhiling laughed and dodged, turning her face so his kiss landed on her cheek instead.
"What are you doing? We have business to attend to."
Mo Zhu wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and planted kisses all over her face.
His warm breath brushed against the sensitive shell of her ear as he murmured cheerfully, "Should we stay here for a few days?"
Yu Zhiling shivered slightly. "Do you want to?"
"It’s probably uninhabitable now." Mo Zhu’s voice was tender as he nuzzled her ear. "Master isn’t a Flying Serpent—your flesh and scales aren’t as resistant to the cold. Back then, the clan’s barrier protected us, but now there’s nothing left."
Yu Zhiling wasn’t disappointed. She took his hand. "Then let’s go early and return soon."
The Nether Sea was no place for cultivators from the Central Continent. The climate was bitterly cold, erratic, and the terrain treacherous. When Yu Zhiling had answered Miao Wan’s plea for help years ago, she’d only survived thanks to the Flying Serpent’s protective barrier.
They had come today simply to see the place again.
Mo Zhu still remembered the way. Hand in hand, they arrived at the ruins of the Flying Serpent settlement. The area remained in chaos—those who had perished in the Eight Blades Slaughter Array hadn’t even left behind intact corpses.
The young man crouched, picking up a nearly decayed toy from the dirt.
"The cold preserved these. They haven’t rotted completely—that’s something, at least."
Yu Zhiling knelt beside him, grinning. "Is this little tiger yours?"
"Mn. My grandmother made it for me." Mo Zhu dusted off the dirt, his face brightening at the memory. "She crafted many toys for me. I wonder what else survived."
Yu Zhiling enthusiastically joined him in digging. "Don’t worry. It’s freezing here—no wind, no sun. Plenty of things could’ve lasted. We’ll take our time searching."
Mo Zhu glanced at her. She was always so full of life. No matter the situation, she radiated warmth and energy.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek again.
Yu Zhiling covered her face. "What are you doing? Not here!"
Mo Zhu laughed and pecked her lips.
"Mo Zhu!"
"It’s fine. I want them all to know I’ve taken a wife."
The words instantly dissolved her irritation. She bit back a smile, turning away with a huff. "You’re too smooth. But no more kissing—save it for later."
Later, she’d kiss him senseless.
Mo Zhu watched as she brandished a small shovel, digging enthusiastically. He followed her like a shadow, sticking close wherever she went.
Very little remained—buried in the earth, these fragments had escaped the destruction of the slaughter array.
Time had long since eroded everything. After gathering what they could, Yu Zhiling turned to Mo Zhu. "Should we take these back?"
Mo Zhu shook his head. "No. Most of these belonged to the clan."
Yu Zhiling took out a wooden box and placed the retrieved items inside to protect them from the erosion of dirt, finally setting it beside a stone stele. This stele had once been used by the Flying Serpent clan as a protective barrier for their people, until it was discovered by Chou Xiao's forces and shattered by the demon tribe's envoys.
The only thing Yu Zhiling kept was a tiger plush toy Mo Zhu had played with as a child.
She crouched on the ground, lighting a small fire, and handed Mo Zhu the prepared spirit money.
"I heard that the demon tribe also uses the Central Continent's methods to honor the deceased, is that true?"
"Yes."
Mo Zhu took the folded paper and fed it into the flames one sheet at a time.
Yu Zhiling asked him, "Now that Chou Xiao is dead and the demon tribe is without a leader, what do you plan to do?"
Mo Zhu's expression remained calm. "I won't go back."
The firelight flickered across his face, highlighting his sharp brow and pronounced nose—features that gave him an aggressive aura. Yet his gaze wasn't on Yu Zhiling but on the dancing flames and the ashes of the burning paper.
Yu Zhiling hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "I don’t mean anything by it, Mo Zhu. Whatever decision you make, I’ll support you. But I still want to ask—are you staying away from the demon realm because of me, or is this truly your own choice?"
Worried her words might be misinterpreted, she quickly raised her hands. "I really don’t mean anything else. I’ll stand by whatever you decide."
It wasn’t just Yu Zhiling. Yan Shanqing and the others had asked the same question many times. The entire Ying Mountain had pondered this, especially since the demon tribe kept sending envoys to plead with him—acting obedient, pitiful, and desperate. Mo Zhu had been recovering from his injuries and rarely came down the mountain, but Yu Zhiling was well aware of their efforts.
Mo Zhu was silent for a while. The spirit money in his hands soon burned out, and Yu Zhiling hurriedly handed him another stack.
His expression remained unreadable, his long lashes trembling slightly before he finally spoke in a low voice. "I don’t want to go back."
Yu Zhiling scooted closer until their shoulders touched. "Then don’t. When we get back, I’ll chase them all away."
Mo Zhu said nothing.
Yu Zhiling understood why he didn’t want to return. Even though the demon tribe had been manipulated by Chou Xiao into attacking the royal family and later regretted it, the harm had already been done. The Flying Serpent royalty had fallen to ruin, and the entire demon tribe bore indirect responsibility.
A throne might be an irresistible temptation to others, but to Mo Zhu, it couldn’t compare to a place as an inner disciple of Ying Mountain—nor could it compare to the spot by Yu Zhiling’s side.
All Yu Zhiling could do was hold his hand. "Stay with me. Stay at Ying Mountain."
By the time they left the Nether Sea, it was already deep into the night.
Yu Zhiling boarded the Jiezi boat. "We can come back every year from now on. Next time, we’ll arrive earlier and stay the whole day."
Mo Zhu wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pressing a kiss to her neck. "Mm. Okay."
The ticklish sensation made Yu Zhiling giggle, shrinking away. "What are you doing?"
Mo Zhu was already deftly undoing her belt between kisses. "It’s been three months since I last touched you, Master."
He had been recovering from his injuries, and Yu Zhiling had been busy traveling across the Central Continent to settle affairs. Their meetings had been limited to kisses and embraces—Mo Zhu had indeed been deprived for too long.
"Mo Zhu!"
Her outer robe was already off. Mo Zhu cast a cleansing spell on them both before lifting her by the hips.
"Mo Zhu, no—wait until we get back…" Yu Zhiling clung to his shoulders, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are your injuries completely healed?"
Mo Zhu sat at the edge of the bed, tilting his head to kiss the shell of her ear. "Yes, they are. Let me just kiss you for a while, alright?"
Yu Zhiling knew how much he had missed her—how long he had waited while she was away.
Her silence was permission. The serpent youth captured her lips, one hand swiftly loosening her clothes without removing them entirely, merely slipping beneath to claim what he had longed for.
Yu Zhiling’s gasps were swallowed by his mouth, her tongue tingling. He must have planned this—waiting for her return—but hadn’t expected her to drag him to the Nether Sea first. The trip had delayed his intentions, but now that they were back, he couldn’t hold back any longer.
Mo Zhu trailed kisses down her neck, nipping lightly until Yu Zhiling lost all strength to resist.
Dazed, she barely registered when he pulled away, only to return moments later, laying her down on the bed. His damp fingers worked at the ties of her skirt.
Yu Zhiling murmured hazily, "Did you… wash your hands?"
"Mm." His voice was rough. "We’ll do the rest when we return. Let me make you feel good first, Master."
Before she could process what he meant, her lower garments were tugged aside, and his slender fingers found her. A whimper escaped her as she clutched the sheets, her neck arching, sweat glistening along her skin.
Mo Zhu held her waist with his other hand, breath ragged as he coaxed her. "Don’t pull away. It’s been too long, Master. You’re too sensitive. Let me help you."
He watched her—her flushed face, glistening eyes, parted lips. The warm light bathed her body, her robes long since pushed aside to reveal jade-like skin now tinged pink.
Yu Zhiling gripped his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles beneath her fingers. A sob broke free as she whispered his name. "Mo… Mo Zhu…"
Mo Zhu loved watching her like this.
Watching her unravel, watching her lose herself, watching her find ecstasy because of him. He leaned down to kiss her again, his tongue claiming hers while his fingers never ceased their rhythm.
Much later, Yu Zhiling lay boneless, drained of all strength.
Mo Zhu brushed aside her sweat-damp hair, meeting her gaze with a voice both hoarse and tender.
"Let’s hold a bonding ceremony, Master."
