Shangguan Huanxi swung onto her horse, gripping the reins with a light laugh. "The world is full of magnificent landscapes, but one must see them for oneself to truly understand."
Su Lingxi looked up at her, visibly moved.
"See those distant mountains like ink-washed brows, the mist-kissed waters nearby," Shangguan Huanxi pointed toward the horizon, her smile broadening with an air of carefree ease. "A thousand days spent trapped in one place, reciting the same words, can't compare to a single day galloping freely—breathing in the scent of grass and wind, listening to the murmur of mountain streams. Farewell—"
Before her words fully faded, she nudged the horse’s flank lightly. The chestnut steed, as if understanding her intent, let out a spirited whinny, its mane rippling gracefully in the wind as it surged forward. Soon, her figure melted into the bustling world beyond, vanishing from sight.
Su Lingxi chased after her but couldn’t even catch a glimpse of her sleeve.
He stood frozen in place, murmuring after a long silence, "Wuya... am I being childish?"
Wuya remained by his side, placing a large hand atop his head. "That is indeed a remarkable young woman. It’s only natural for the young master to admire her. Being childish isn’t necessarily bad—it reminds you there’s still a long road ahead, and much left to learn."
Su Lingxi seemed to grasp something, then nodded firmly.
Wuya’s gaze softened. Perhaps bringing the young master out for this journey had been the right decision after all.
Hidden behind a tree, Heart Knife clutched his chest, muttering in frustration, "What a disaster! That woman keeps claiming she’ll be my father—why am I so hopelessly drawn to her?"
He made to chase after her, but his two brothers seized his arms.
Left-hand Knife sighed. "Enough. She’s long gone—stop being a creepy stalker."
Right-hand Knife added, "The fortress sent word. We’re to return immediately. Seems they’ve caught wind of you causing trouble outside, tarnishing the Feng Family Fortress’s name under the alias 'Blade Demon.'"
Left-hand Knife mused, "This time, they’ll probably purge the family ranks. Wonder if chopping off a hand will suffice?"
Heart Knife paled. "Eldest Brother, Second Brother—I’m your blood kin!"
Meanwhile, atop a rooftop—
Murong Meifei raised her hand, and a pigeon alighted on her wrist. Retrieving the message tied to its leg, she scanned it and announced, "The sect has sent urgent orders. We must return at once."
Below, Murong Meixin hopped about fretfully. "Junior Sister, come down! How can you protect me from way up there?"
Murong Meifei’s eyebrow twitched. "You’re insufferable."
She flicked a crumpled paper ball, hitting him square on the head. With a dramatic "Aiyo!", he spun in place before collapsing delicately to the ground.
"The ground’s filthy! My new robes! I’m dying—Junior Sister, save me!!!"
Wenren Buxiao dared only watch from afar as Shangguan Huanxi departed. Once her silhouette disappeared entirely, he returned to his room and spotted a letter on the desk.
Unfolding it, his eyes stung at the words glaring back at him: "Divorce Agreement."
"The lady left it here before she went," said Luo Qiaoqiao from the doorway, her face haggard, all pretenses gone.
She continued, "I know I’ve done many wrongs. I’ll take Yan'er and leave—you’ll never see us again."
"How could you possibly leave?"
Luo Qiaoqiao faltered. "What?"
Wenren Buxiao turned to her, his dark eyes simmering with suppressed madness. "Yan'er is my son. He belongs by my side, raised and molded properly."
Instead of relief, a chill ran down Luo Qiaoqiao’s spine.
Wenren Buxiao’s lips curled into a whisper. "I wonder... which day will it be?"
As he brushed past her, all traces of amusement vanished from his gaze.
"I might just kill him."
Luo Qiaoqiao crumpled to the floor, trembling violently. Only after Wenren Buxiao left did she finally break into wrenching sobs—regrets known to none but herself.
Master Jin knew the tides had turned. Survival was unlikely, yet he clung to one last gamble.
In mere days, the once-luxurious den of indulgence stood deserted. Under Shangguan Huanxi’s arrangements, the women had all found new paths, leaving behind only debris where revelry once thrived.
As despair gnawed at him, laughter suddenly echoed from the entrance. His eyes lit up.
"Ninth, I bought you candied hawthorns—no more sweets after this!"
"Why?"
"Too much sugar rots your teeth. And if your teeth ache, my heart will ache!"
"Oh..." The boy’s voice, muffled by the treat in his mouth, turned syrupy—soft yet brimming with playful smugness. He feigned ignorance. "But why would your heart ache if my teeth hurt?"
"Because I like you, obviously!"
The two figures stepped inside, their features coming into focus.
The Miao youth, whose very presence evoked dread, stood with hair white as a specter’s, eyes crimson like bewitching gems, and skin pallid as death. His black-and-red embroidered robes shimmered with silver ornaments, as though he’d stepped straight from a tale of demons.
Yet now, his slender fingers clung to a corner of the girl’s green sleeve. The green ribbon woven into his dark hair brushed against his ghostly hand, as if painting life back into him.
Thus, his white hair became moonbeams, his red eyes precious stones, his pallor purest snow.
"So... you like me this much, Chu'he?"
He lowered his lashes, lips pressed together, staring at the crown of her head with a smile so tender yet possessive—like a wraith determined to entwine itself around her, devouring every bit of her essence.
But Chu'he merely shook her head, muttering about moderation in sweets, oblivious to the peril beside her.
In his daze, Master Jin recalled a Buddhist parable: a man who sliced his own flesh to feed an eagle, sparing a dove.
Chu'he seemed to glow before him. This wasn’t flesh for an eagle—it was a mortal offering herself to a demon!
"Save me!" Master Jin crawled toward her, arm outstretched. "Miss Chu'he! I’ll give you everything I own—just spare my life!"
Chu'he yelped, darting behind Ninth before peeking out. Seeing Master Jin—once opulent, now gaunt with a grotesquely swollen belly—she gasped.
"Master Jin, how’d you get so... ugly?"
Ninth took a bite of his candied fruit, eyes crinkling. "So ugly?"
Chu'he nudged him. "Ninth, stop copying me."
He mumbled an "Oh."
Clearing her throat, Chu'he asked, "Miss Shangguan mentioned you needed our help?"
Ninth added, "That Shangguan woman said you’re begging us for something?"
Chu'he glared up at him.
He grumbled, "I wasn’t copying you."
Master Jin, now half-dead and desperate, pushed forward a chest he had prepared long ago. "Here are all my gold, silver, jewels, and collections—I give them all to you, all to you!"
He opened the chest, and in an instant, the dazzling gleam of treasures blinded the eyes. Thick stacks of silver notes, gleaming gold and jade—it was impossible not to be captivated. Master Jin hadn’t worked all these years for nothing.
Carefully, he asked, "Can these riches... spare my life?"
Chu'he tugged at Ninth’s sleeve.
Ninth snapped his fingers.
Suddenly, Master Jin felt the urge to vomit. He collapsed to the ground, retching violently, until a pitch-black, fleshy worm crawled out of his mouth.
This was the first time Chu'he had ever seen a gu worm emerge from someone’s mouth.
Her expression shifted rapidly:
Õ_Õ
⊙O⊙
⊙Д⊙
Ninth, amused by her vivid reactions, leaned down, his gaze fixed on her—sticky and intense.
Finally, too disgusted to bear it, Chu'he covered her face with both hands.
Ninth poked at her playfully. "Chu'he, I want to see you."
Chu'he kicked him.
Master Jin, however, had no time to dwell on the disgust. Feeling an urgent need to relieve himself, he scrambled up and bolted for the outhouse.
Chu'he quickly pulled Ninth down beside the chest to divide the spoils. She grabbed a stack of silver notes, muttering to herself.
"This one is Ninth’s, these two are mine, this one is Ninth’s, these three are mine, this one is Ninth’s..."
After several rounds, Ninth looked at the meager handful of notes in his grasp, then at the thick wad in Chu'he’s hand. "Chu'he, why do I have so little?"
"Little? It’s not that much less than mine!" Chu'he stuffed the notes into her pouch, speaking with conviction. "Besides, I’m saving up to buy you candied hawthorns!"
Ninth: "Oh."
The next moment, Chu'he snatched the notes back from Ninth’s hands before he could even warm them. "Ninth is silly and loves playing with bugs. Who knows when those notes might get eaten by worms? I’ll keep them safe for you. Outsiders charge a fee for safekeeping, but since you’re my favorite, I won’t charge you."
As Chu'he tucked those few notes into her own pouch, Ninth blinked and said, "Chu'he, you’re so good to me."
A small green snake peeked out from Chu'he’s shoulder, eyeing the white-haired, red-eyed boy with undisguised disdain.
"Of course I’m good to you. Who else in this world do I love more than Ninth?"
Chu'he spoke righteously, then scooped up the jewels from the chest, continuing her familiar method of division.
"One for Ninth, two for me, one for Ninth, three for me, one for Ninth..."
The boy’s eyes followed her hands as they moved, but suddenly, his gaze caught on something else in the chest. Curious, he brushed aside the jewels and pulled out a book.
The pages were dense with text he couldn’t understand, but scattered among them were illustrations—men and women, bare and entwined, in different positions, mouths locked in different places.
For some reason, his breathing grew hot.
When Chu'he looked up, Ninth instinctively hid the book behind his back, his face flushed unnaturally.
Chu'he frowned. "What’s wrong? Your face is so red."
Ninth put on an innocent expression. "Nothing. I just... think Chu'he is so pretty."
Chu'he lifted her chin proudly. "Of course! This young lady is as beautiful as a flower."
Ninth pressed his lips together, fingers secretly tracing the hidden book. His heart pounded wildly.
If—if he and Chu'he did the things in those pictures—
The heat surged even stronger.
He glanced down, then quickly clamped his legs together and turned away, not daring to look at the girl counting jewels with her head bowed. His ears burned red. He pressed a hand to them, his mind feverish, restless, and unsettled.
