Pei Liang was busy with other matters at the moment.
After returning from the Jiang estate, Pei Liang did not follow the example of the other sect leaders. She neither became fearful and cautious in the face of the Demon Cult’s threat, nor did her sect fall into internal strife after she was shaken by what had happened at the Jiang estate.
Take Medicine King Valley and the Infinite Sect, for instance. The man killed by the Infinite Sect’s leader had been the Valley Lord’s own brother. The brothers had shared a deep bond since childhood, so Medicine King Valley naturally had no intention of letting Sect Leader Qiu off so easily.
Even though Situ Zhuo had crippled Sect Leader Qiu’s hands and feet at the Jiang estate, the twenty years he had spent building a false reputation and basking in glory still seemed like far too light a punishment compared with his elder brother being buried alive and starved to death in a demonic cavern.
The Infinite Sect naturally understood that Medicine King Valley would not let the matter rest. Although Sect Leader Qiu was now a cripple, there was no denying that the Sacred Flame Technique had brought the sect considerable benefits over the years, nor that the prestige he had cultivated would collapse overnight.
Moreover, he was a cunning man by nature. He knew full well that if he allowed Medicine King Valley to return just like that, the Infinite Sect would soon face relentless attacks from them. On top of that, the sect still had to return and strengthen its defenses, remaining on guard at all times against the Demon Cult Leader storming their gates.
Sect Leader Qiu knew that if the Infinite Sect did not wish to decline from that point onward, it could not afford to be caught between the Demon Cult and Medicine King Valley.
And so he devised a vicious scheme. He sent experts in disguise to poison everyone from Medicine King Valley while they were on their way home. He also had them impersonate Medicine King Valley disciples and cause trouble among sects that had longstanding disputes with the valley.
At the same time, he contacted the sect’s covert forces and had them wreak havoc throughout Medicine King Valley’s principal businesses.
Medicine King Valley had never imagined that the other side would be so shameless as to tear away all pretense so decisively. Caught off guard, they suffered quite a few minor losses.
But they were hardly helpless. If anything, the attacks only strengthened their resolve to retaliate. In a short time, they rallied every force they could and launched a concentrated assault against the Infinite Sect. Before long, the two sects were embroiled in conflicts of every size.
Whenever disciples from the two sects encountered one another outside, they drew their weapons and fought.
In the end, with a full-scale war on the verge of breaking out, Shaolin Temple, the Beggars’ Sect, and several other behind-the-scenes heavyweights had to step in and mediate. Under immense pressure, the Infinite Sect had no choice but to compromise.
They replaced Sect Leader Qiu and handed him over to Medicine King Valley for punishment, while Medicine King Valley promised that the matter would end there.
But the two sides had already forged a blood feud. Although Sect Leader Qiu was ultimately cast out as a scapegoat, it remained a fact that he had made substantial contributions to the sect over the years, even if he was now a cripple.
Not to mention that he had spent years building his influence, naturally earning himself no shortage of loyal followers. Thus, although the matter had ostensibly been settled, loyal agents of the Infinite Sect continued to infiltrate Medicine King Valley in an attempt to rescue Sect Leader Qiu.
Some extremists even began murdering Medicine King Valley disciples and those who ran its businesses. The conflict was suppressed, only to flare up again time and time anew. To call the two sides sworn enemies would be no exaggeration.
As for the Emei Sect and the Thousand Crane Sect, they did not become mortal enemies like the previous two.
Still, the Thousand Crane Sect’s leader was decisive. After returning, she personally paid Abbess Yuqing a visit, bringing with her a top-grade poison—one potent enough to kill anyone who drank it on the spot.
Though it was not as mysterious and impossible to guard against as Formless Divine Water, her attitude was perfectly clear: Abbess Yuqing had to pay for a life with her own.
Within Emei, opinions were also divided into two camps. One side believed that Abbess Yuqing’s crimes were unforgivable and that she ought to go below and repent before Senior Sister Yuruo.
The other side felt that, as one of the Four Sects and Eight Schools, Emei was at least a prestigious and influential sect. No matter how grievous a sect leader’s crimes might be, she should not be sentenced to death by another sect.
They thought the Thousand Crane Sect had overreached. Although the Thousand Crane Sect’s leader had once been betrothed to Senior Sister Yuruo, the two had never actually married. His current stance was perhaps a little too overbearing.
Moreover, while Yuqing’s talent was not exceptional, she had managed Emei in an orderly fashion all these years. Her martial strength might not rank among the best of the Four Sects and Eight Schools, but as the leader of a sect, she was still qualified.
Punishment was certainly warranted, but with the demonic cult threatening the martial world, every top-level fighter in every sect was precious. Even if Senior Sister Yuruo were to chop Abbess Yuqing into a thousand pieces, it would not bring her back. It would be better to strip Yuqing of her position as sect leader and confine her to Emei, where she could devote herself to cultivation.
Those who held this view were being more pragmatic. Objectively speaking, however, they were also considering the sect as a whole.
Apart from these two factions, there were also members of the younger generation who had never even heard of Fairy Yuruo and recognized only the current sect leader. They spoke up in her defense as well. And then there was one final group, whose position was rather awkward—
Those who, like Abbess Yuqing, had an intimate relationship with Jiang Xun. Seeing their sect leader’s current predicament, they found themselves in an exceedingly difficult position.
The entire Emei Sect had descended into chaos. Meanwhile, the Thousand Crane Sect maintained a hard-line stance. Though it had not drawn weapons as the Wuji Sect and Medicine King Valley had, the undercurrents running beneath the surface were no less turbulent.
Under such circumstances, a short-term alliance was naturally out of the question. At the very least, four sects were too preoccupied with their own affairs for the Four Sects and Eight Schools to organize one by force.
What was more, every sect had to keep an eye on these four, lest they truly spark conflict throughout the martial world and plunge the entire righteous path into disorder.
If that happened, they would no longer be thinking about how to wipe out the demonic cult. Instead, the demonic cult would seize this once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity to destroy them one by one.
And what was Pei Liang doing in the midst of all this?
Cooking.
After returning from the Jiang residence, everyone in the Pei household had begun making a fuss around her.
They had mainly been frightened by the dangerous situation she had faced—especially after learning that Pei Liang had taken on three of those vicious demonic-cult protectors at once.
Qingyi, the frailest of them all, had fainted on the spot from fright, while Hongxiu had spent her days weeping.
The concubines, secondary wives, younger half-brothers and sisters, nieces, and nephews from every household had all come to see her. Over the course of a single meal, Pei Liang received countless bowls of soup, pastries, protective talismans, and scented sachets.
The people of the Pei household had truly grown attached to her. And regardless of affection, having such a generous, open-minded, and magnanimous family head was a blessing that came only once in three lifetimes.
Without Pei Liang, they genuinely had no idea what they would do.
Thus, over the past few days, in order to prove that she was unharmed and reassure everyone, Pei Liang had put her skills on display several times.
She had fed the entire household, who had been sobbing miserably, until their faces glowed with health.
It was as though everyone had completely forgotten that the demonic-cult leader had said he would come looking for her. Among all the sect leaders who were anxious and worried, her situation was almost bizarrely out of place.
Naturally, Pei Liang was delighted when she learned that Han Weiliu had been found.
Fortunately, she had nearly finished what she was doing. She instructed Hongxiu, “It’ll be ready to serve in another quarter of an hour.”
With that, she went out to greet him.
Han Weiliu had naturally already seen Pei Liang through Situ Zhuo’s eyes a few days earlier.
He could not deny that her appearance and bearing—both even more stunning than they had been three years ago—had stirred something in him.
To put it in somewhat fashionable terms, Pei Liang was precisely his type.
Otherwise, Han Weiliu would never have fallen for her at first sight, nor insisted that he would marry no one but her.
Later, after his family was destroyed, Pei Liang’s existence became complicated and delicate. Naturally, Han Weiliu no longer allowed himself to indulge in his feelings.
Yet he discovered that, compared to before, she had become even more captivating, so much so that he could hardly look away.
By then, it had even gone beyond mere physical attraction.
Three years had passed, and Han Weiliu believed he could now face her calmly. But when the gates of Zhanyue Manor opened and Pei Liang came out to greet him in casual clothes, carrying the pleasant scent of cooking fires about her, the stir in his heart was anything but slight.
For a fleeting moment, he even had the illusion that if the massacre of his family had never happened, if his parents and relatives were still alive, and if he had already married the fiancée to whom he had once been betrothed—
Then perhaps, after traveling far from home, he might return one day to find her coming out to greet him, just as she had today, with the warm scent of hearth smoke clinging to her.
But the illusion lasted only an instant. Even Han Weiliu found it absurd and laughable.
Leaving aside the awkward relationship between them now, Pei Liang herself—with the intelligence and ambition she had displayed—was clearly not the sort of woman who would wait at home for someone to return.
Han Weiliu smiled and said to the Pei Liang who had come out to greet him, “It’s been a long time, Sect Leader Pei. How have you been these past few years?”
What Han Weiliu had not expected was that Pei Liang would show not the slightest trace of reserve toward him. There was none of the awkward unfamiliarity one might expect after three years apart, as though they had only parted yesterday.
The moment she arrived, she took his hand, leaving Han Weiliu somewhat dazed.
Then he heard the smile in her voice. “You finally came to see me. I was almost tired of waiting.”
As she spoke, she pulled him by the hand and led him into the manor.
At that moment, all of Han Weiliu’s attention was focused on his palm.
Her fingers were slender and long, but her hand was not soft. There were distinct calluses on her palm, and the texture was undeniably rough.
She seemed to have completely lost the delicate softness she had once possessed. Three years ago, she had rarely handled weapons despite practicing martial arts, precisely because she feared they would roughen her hands.
Yet from what he had seen at the Jiang residence earlier—from her profound internal cultivation and extraordinary martial skills—it was clear that she had understood the weakness she had once spoken of and acted accordingly.
Over the past three years, she must have trained tirelessly every day, just as he had, to achieve what she had now.
Her hand was no longer soft and yielding, inspiring tenderness at a touch. Instead, it gave him an overwhelming sense of warmth.
For a moment, Han Weiliu was dazed. He even forgot what he had come to do. And the way they were now was clearly inappropriate.
Just like that, she led him all the way to the rear courtyard.
The dishes had already been served, and nearly the entire Pei family was there.
They were seated at two tables. The concubines and secondary wives occupied one, while Pei Liang, her younger half-siblings, and her nieces and nephews sat at the other.
When Han Weiliu entered, everyone’s eyes turned toward him, staring at him with intense curiosity.
Han Weiliu immediately felt somewhat awkward. There was not much hostility in their gazes—mostly wariness.
The younger ones all looked thoroughly unwilling, gripping their chopsticks tightly as though poised to strike.
They looked as if they were on guard against one more person coming to steal their food.
Hongxiu and Qingyi forced stiff smiles as they set out an extra bowl and pair of chopsticks for him. “Young Master Han, please!”
Running into someone at mealtime was awkward, but Han Weiliu could only follow the host’s arrangements.
As the head of the household, Pei Liang took her seat first and said, “Let’s eat.” At once, everyone at both tables began to dig in with astonishing enthusiasm.
Han Weiliu could only marvel at the spectacle. Anyone who didn’t know better might have thought the Pei family ate only one meal a day. Yet, judging by how Pei Liang’s younger half-siblings depended on and defended her, it didn’t seem as though she mistreated them.
With that question in mind, Han Weiliu reached out with his chopsticks—
And for the entire meal, he was met with the looks from Pei Wen and Pei Wu beside him that clearly said, “Shameless.”
After all, with his current level of skill, using his martial arts to snatch food was rather like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut.
Still, it worked remarkably well.
After the meal, ignoring everyone’s muttered comments, Pei Liang led Han Weiliu to her own courtyard.
She smiled at him. “You must be tired after the journey. Go take a bath first.”
Han Weiliu thought that was unnecessary. He had come to discuss serious business with her, and he still needed to explain the misunderstanding from all those years ago. There was no need for her to be so hospitable.
So he said, “There’s no need. I was discourteous at the table earlier. I came this time because I have something to discuss with Sect Leader Pei.”
Pei Liang, however, raised a finger and pressed it to his lips. “Go wash away the dust of the road. I’m covered in cooking smoke myself. We can talk later.”
Seeing her act so insistently, Han Weiliu found himself unable to refuse. After all, when one was a guest, one followed the host’s arrangements. He couldn’t exactly drag someone into a conversation when she was covered in the smell of smoke and grease.
Thus, he could only follow Hongxiu and Qingyi to a bathing pool.
If there was one thing Pei Liang had in common with the previous Sect Leader Pei, it was their extravagant lifestyles and love of indulgence.
In fact, Pei Liang was even better at enjoying herself. She was more skilled at making money, after all, so she could spend it with even greater abandon.
The courtyard she currently occupied belonged to the sect leader. She had extensively expanded and renovated it, digging out a new pond and building two bathing pools supplied with hot spring water.
She often enjoyed the hot springs while Hongxiu and Qingyi massaged her and filled the air with fragrant incense, laughing and playing with the beautiful women. For all the hardship of her martial training, her life itself was anything but hard.
By day, she was an ascetic monk; by night, she was an emperor lost in pleasure. Even Elder Uncle Pei could only marvel at her astonishingly contradictory self-discipline.
The guest bath Han Weiliu was brought to was likewise elegant and exquisitely appointed. Its style was unlike anything he had seen before—not Central Plains, nor Western Regions, yet immensely comfortable to look at.
From there, the breathtaking mountain scenery surrounding Slaying Moon Manor unfolded before his eyes, leaving him refreshed and clear-headed.
There was also a massive pane of glazed glass here, even larger than the one in the Demon Cult, with greater clarity and transparency.
It seemed the Demon Cult’s intelligence had been accurate. In recent years, the Pei family had flourished, expanding its industries and influence more than threefold, while its profits were beyond estimation.
It had even established close ties with the imperial court, and was no longer merely a band of wandering martial artists from the jianghu.
When Pei Liang had vouched for the Demon Cult and cleared its name at gatherings of the Four Sects and Eight Schools, she had repeatedly mentioned the Six Fan Gate. That connection with the imperial court was likely another development of recent years.
Just as his thoughts were turning, a cold snort came from beside him.
Han Weiliu turned his head and saw the unconcealed jealousy on the face of the plump, alluring woman. The Qingyi woman beside her gave her a discreet nudge with her elbow, signaling that she should rein in her temper.
From her expression, however, it was clear that she was dissatisfied as well.
The two women placed the finely carved wooden trays they were carrying beside the bath. On them were scented soap tablets, as well as crystal cups filled with nectar-like wine.
With respectful expressions, they said, “Young Master Han, please enjoy your bath. We’ll take our leave now.”
Once they had left the bathing chamber, the maid in red could no longer contain herself.
“What a stroke of luck. To think he would be favored by our lady.”
The Qingyi woman’s voice was filled with helplessness. “Sigh. Stop dreaming. You and I are merely maids. We should have been content long ago that our mistress has shown us favor.”
“For the past three years, Mistress has devoted herself to cultivating her divine arts and had no interest in men. But she can’t live like an ascetic forever.”
“Try to look at it more positively. At least Young Master Han is handsome, and his background is cleaner than that Jiang fellow’s. It can’t be considered an insult to her.”
“Hmph! I’m still not satisfied. If you and I were men, we would have firmly captured Mistress’s heart. How could there be any opportunity for these people?”
“Sigh… In your next life, make sure you’re born properly.”
Han Weiliu: “…”
Why did this sound exactly like his uncle’s two concubines reacting to the news that a principal wife was about to enter his uncle’s household?
Han Weiliu’s scalp prickled all over. Had these two girls misunderstood something?
Or—had he simply thought things were too straightforward?
But now that he had come this far, refusing to get into the bath and wash would seem discourteous. Besides, his martial prowess was formidable. Even if Pei Liang had misunderstood, there would be nothing to say as long as he held his ground.
Thus, Han Weiliu ultimately removed his clothes and stepped into the bath.
The scented soap tablets prepared by the Pei family were even better than those used in the Demon Cult, which surprised Han Weiliu. Given the Demon Cult’s wealth, Situ Zhuo, as its leader, surely enjoyed the most extravagant comforts.
Anything purchased for him ought to have been among the finest luxuries in the world. Yet even those could not compare to the Pei family’s?
The wine in the cup was also far richer and more mellow than ordinary liquor.
Before his family’s downfall, Han Weiliu had been a carefree man who loved his wine. Over the years, his single-minded pursuit of vengeance had made him restrained and disciplined. Now, however, the rare vintage stirred memories of those days.
As he soaked in the hot spring, he unknowingly finished an entire pot of wine.
By the time he rose, he was already somewhat tipsy, and he was immediately struck by how improper his behavior had been.
Fortunately, his internal cultivation was profound. By the time he left the bathhouse, at least outwardly, there was no sign that anything was amiss.
The two maids then led him to Pei Liang’s room.
When they withdrew, they even closed the door behind them.
Han Weiliu: “…”
This wouldn’t do. He had never intended to become entangled with Pei Liang in a romantic way again. He could not allow himself to place her reputation in jeopardy by creating grounds for gossip.
He therefore began, “Sect Leader Pei, perhaps we should move to the main hall—”
Before he could finish, Pei Liang rose and came to him. She pressed down on the back of his head, then covered his lips with hers in a long, lingering kiss.
Han Weiliu was completely dumbfounded. His body went rigid, his mind went blank, and he had no idea how to react. The only things he could register were the sweetness in his mouth and the thrilling flutter in his heart.
When the kiss finally ended, Pei Liang smiled at him in satisfaction.
“Just as I thought. The flavor of that wine suits you perfectly.”
“But don’t drink too much. This wine has quite a kick.”
No wonder he felt so light-headed. Han Weiliu knew he couldn’t let things continue like this. If he didn’t make his position clear now, the misunderstanding would become impossible to undo.
He had originally intended to tactfully discuss what had happened over the past few years before broaching the subject, but the other man had given him no opportunity at all.
So he said, “Sect Master Pei, I—”
Pei Liang smiled and pressed his index finger to Han Weiliu’s lips. “I understand. I, Pei Liang, am not the sort of man who takes liberties.”
With that, he turned around, took a stack of papers and letters from the cabinet beside the bed, and placed them in front of Han Weiliu.
The moment Han Weiliu saw the papers, he forgot what he had been about to say.
His expression turned solemn. He picked up the documents from the table, checked them to make sure he wasn’t mistaken, and asked Pei Liang incredulously, “Are you certain?”
Pei Liang shook his head. “Eighty percent, perhaps? The remaining twenty percent is being verified. After all, the other party has been lying low for decades, with countless contingencies in place. They’re cunning and wary. We have to uncover their true identity. It won’t be easy if we arrest the wrong person.”
Han Weiliu naturally understood that, but he still found it difficult to believe.
Pei Liang explained, “Actually, the clues are fairly easy to sort out. I suspected them from the very beginning.”
“However, we couldn’t rule out the possibility that Xia Yunsha was merely borrowing the identity of a Wangqiu Sect disciple to conceal her true origins. After all, they had shown no obvious flaws at the time.”
“To remain composed under such pressure demonstrates extraordinary patience. If we had killed the wrong people under those circumstances, we could easily have alerted the real culprit.”
“The former sect master of the Fentian Sect must have anticipated this possibility. That’s why the preparations were so airtight. There were several sects positioned to draw attention, not to mention the Holy Flame Cult, which served as a living target.”
“The current sect master may not amount to much in terms of ability, but when it comes to concealment and keeping a low profile, he has reached perfection over the past several decades. Still, as I said, once you find the key, you can follow the vine to its root.”
“The Jiang and Cao families are no cause for concern by themselves, but they were the ones who wiped out the Han family. When the mastermind released those smokescreens, they were bound to react with the greatest urgency. That’s why the Jiang family was so eager to join the orthodox sects in wiping out the demonic cult.”
“The mastermind understood this as well, so he was sure to exploit the desperation of the Jiang and Cao families. Sure enough, after digging deeper, I managed to uncover a thread.”
“As for your Holy Flame Cult, although you only officially returned a few months ago, you had already been secretly moving back in stages more than two years ago. Given the timing, there can be no other explanation than that it was a contingency plan to deal with your sudden disappearance and the martial world’s return to peace.”
“After all, in my view, the old cult leader was already at the end of his life. These three years were a turbulent period of transition between the old and new leadership—not a suitable time to return to the Central Plains. The wisest choice would have been to wait until the new cult leader had taken the throne and fully consolidated his authority.”
“Therefore, the old cult leader must have received some kind of information that prompted him to disregard the circumstances and return to the Central Plains ahead of schedule.”
“But the sudden death of the Holy Flame Cult’s heir from a serious illness was an unexpected stroke of luck. It was precisely this accident that finally allowed me to cross the other suspects off the list and focus my suspicions once more on the Wangqiu Sect.”
Han Weiliu’s heart jolted. Cold sweat nearly broke out all over him.
He seemed not to have noticed anything Pei Liang said afterward, focusing only on that one phrase—“your Sacred Flame Cult.”
Han Weiliu forced a stiff smile. “Sect Leader Pei must have misspoken. What do you mean, ‘our Sacred Flame Cult’?”
Pei Liang glanced at him with an expression that seemed to say, *You’re really going to pretend in front of me?*
“Did you really think that after three years I wouldn’t have investigated the old servant who told you that the Pei family was responsible down to the last detail?”
A wave of dejection swept through Han Weiliu’s heart. Of course. How had he overlooked that?
That old servant had served at the side of the Han family patriarch for decades. Even among the countless spies the Fentian Sect had scattered throughout the martial world, he should have been among the most loyal and closest to the core.
After the Han family’s destruction, the old servant should have retired after completing his mission. But he would not have chosen to disappear, for that would have been highly suspicious. Nor had he chosen suicide.
With the kind of devotion he possessed—the willingness to dedicate his entire life to the Fentian Sect—it was unlikely that he feared death so much that he would increase the risk of its secrets being exposed.
That meant there was still some other task or purpose for which his life had been preserved.
Pei Liang continued, “He was a key figure, so I naturally spared no effort investigating him. Perhaps your disappearance made him careless. In the end, I managed to uncover the pattern and code words he used to contact his liaison.”
“Moreover, he was excessively concerned with a certain mother and son—especially over the past year. The frequency was simply too high.”
“At first, I thought the mother and son were his illegitimate descendants, and I planned to capture them and use them to threaten him. But before I could act, you showed up ahead of schedule.”
“Then, quite by accident, you got into a dispute with that boy. When you eventually went to his home with the old servant to collect the money, you happened upon him beating his birth mother after going out gambling. In the process, you killed him by accident.”
*It wasn’t an accident,* Han Weiliu thought.
When the real Situ Zhuo saw him, he had arrogantly tried to attack him. Han Weiliu had originally intended only to restrain him, but after learning his identity, a plan had immediately formed in his mind.
His alternate personality had clearly reached the same conclusion. It had suddenly emerged, seized control, and killed the man.
Han Weiliu could not claim innocence. After all, the murderous intent had arisen from his own mind; his alternate personality had merely cast aside his hesitation and delivered the killing blow without a second thought.
If he truly had not wanted to kill the real Situ Zhuo, his alternate personality would never have succeeded. Therefore, he was the one who had killed him—without a doubt.
Once the real Situ Zhuo was dead, the old servant naturally could not be allowed to live either.
Under Han Weiliu’s questioning, the old servant bit through his own tongue to conceal the secret. As he died, tears streamed down his face, as though filled with remorse and guilt toward Han Weiliu.
But even so, he had already made his choice. Looking at the man’s corpse, Han Weiliu felt no ripple in his heart.
After the real Situ Zhuo’s death, the two Sacred Flame Cult members responsible for raising and protecting him were scared half to death.
They had already received word from the cult that, in recent days, members who had returned to the Central Plains had been contacting them repeatedly. Otherwise, Situ Zhuo would not have grown increasingly arrogant and overbearing.
It was because he had learned that he was soon to become the leader of the cult.
Now that the old cult leader’s only remaining child was dead, given the strictness of the cult’s rules, there was no chance the two of them would survive.
Just as they were terrified out of their wits, they saw Han Weiliu gradually transform into Situ Zhuo’s appearance. The resemblance was impossible to distinguish—even Situ Zhuo’s birth mother could not tell them apart by their features alone.
Han Weiliu asked the three of them a question: “Who am I?”
In the end, all three gave the correct answer. “You are Situ Zhuo, the old cult leader’s only surviving heir, and the next leader of the Sacred Flame Cult.”
That was why Han Weiliu had not killed them. Taking them with him would instead make his identity more convincing.
Fortunately, Situ Zhuo’s birth mother was a practical woman—not the sort who would give up her life and the wealth and glory within reach for the sake of her son. That spared Han Weiliu a great deal of trouble.
These were secrets no fourth person knew. After the old cult leader’s death, the risk of their being exposed would only diminish with time.
Yet Pei Liang had apparently known all of it long ago.
Never before had Han Weiliu been so grateful that this person was not his enemy.
His expression was complicated. “I’m not so incompetent that I wouldn’t notice someone following me.”
Pei Liang nodded. “The men I sent to follow the old servant didn’t know either. I deduced it myself.”
“Even if you disguised yourself as that fool, you could never have done the same idiotic things he did—the kind that made people want to gouge out their own eyes. Add to that the timing of the old servant’s death, your disappearance afterward, the panic and unease of those three men, and Situ Zhuo’s sudden change in temperament.”
“Taken separately, those clues might not have pointed to anything. But when the leader of the demonic cult introduced himself as Situ Zhuo, the whole story fell into place.”
So when she had asked his name back then, it had not merely been a polite question?
Han Weiliu had no reply. Though he often mocked the alternate personality, he had indeed been rather pleased with the leverage he now held.
The alternate personality was even worse—his tail had practically shot up to the heavens. If Han Weiliu had not kept him in check, he would surely have been even more arrogant.
But only now did he clearly realize that the entire situation had never escaped her control.
As he was sinking into a muddle of dejection and conflicted feelings, a hand reached toward him.
It stroked slowly along the line of his waist. Han Weiliu stiffened.
Then Pei Liang said, “You looked far too tempting that day. It took every ounce of my self-control not to let anything show.”
“Why didn’t you come to my door today as the demonic cult leader? That magnificent red robe looked beautiful on you. When you stood there that day, all I could think of was pinning you to the rooftop and having my way with you.”
Han Weiliu’s face flushed scarlet. While everyone else was on guard against the demonic cult’s devilish leader, was that really what she had been thinking about him?
As her aggressive intent grew ever more apparent, panic rose in Han Weiliu’s heart. Perhaps it was the effect of the fine wine, but his mind felt somewhat dazed.
It took tremendous effort for him to remember why he had come today. Just as he was about to retreat, put some distance between them, and firmly state his position—
The next moment, however, his hand moved beyond his control, wrapping around Pei Liang’s waist and pulling her into his arms.
Han Weiliu’s expression also shifted into one of wild, unruly arrogance. The alternate personality had forcibly seized control.
Under ordinary circumstances, he would not have succeeded. But at that moment, the alternate personality was furious.
Nearly gritting his teeth, he said, “You’re saying you knew it was me all along?”
So she could never have been unsettled by his existence, never have returned home anxious and uncertain. Naturally, she would not have been cowed by his martial prowess, becoming wary and guarded around him—only to reveal utter disbelief when she learned his true identity.
Pei Liang loved the way he could be overwhelmed by shyness one moment, then domineeringly take the initiative the next.
At that, she slipped a hand beneath his lapels. Her palm, lightly callused yet warm, made its presence impossible to ignore. And what did Situ Zhuo, so inexperienced in such matters, know of resisting Pei Liang’s skill?
Situ Zhuo’s expression changed. His body was beginning to feel strange. Though he was furious at this woman’s teasing, another unfamiliar sensation was crashing through him.
It came in wave after wave, leaving him abruptly hollow, as though something inside him desperately needed release.
Situ Zhuo understood at once: this must be the powerful urge to subdue this woman, born from the resentment in his heart.
Why else would he suddenly want to push her down?
Who was Situ Zhuo? The unfettered, willful leader of the Demon Sect. If he wanted something, naturally he would do it.
And so, amid a dizzying whirl, Pei Liang found herself pinned to the bed beneath him.
Han Weiliu hurriedly tried to wrest back control. Did this idiot even know what he was doing? If this went on, he was afraid he truly would end up in that humiliating position.
Yet the moment he regained control, he discovered that he had already been stripped bare—
Why was she so practiced at this? Why was she so skilled at undressing men?
Protector Jing had been the same; even while he was lying out in the fields, she had stripped him completely naked.
At that moment, Han Weiliu did not even have time to process it. Before he could be shocked, he sucked in a sharp breath—because Pei Liang already had him in her grasp.
Han Weiliu curled his toes tight and bit down on his lip, barely managing to keep an embarrassing sound from escaping.
As she moved her hand, Pei Liang bit his collarbone and sighed softly. “You smell so good. This fragrance was specially blended for you. Once it picks up your scent of pine, it’ll smell even better.”
Han Weiliu’s breathing turned ragged. He was utterly at a loss. Pushing her away should have been such a simple thing, yet he seemed to have forgotten how to move.
Only after hearing Pei Liang’s words did he realize that, from the moment he had stepped into Moon-Slaying Manor, he had been a carefully prepared dish, seasoned and set before her.
Pitifully, he had even leapt into the soup himself, sprinkling the seasoning over his own body so that she could enjoy him all the more.
Han Weiliu was mentally fragile at the moment, repulsed by the sight of himself so disheveled and out of control, while his body continued to respond on its own, yielding and begging for more.
The next instant, a veil seemed to fall over his vision. There was no need to guess—the alternate personality had seized control again.
Han Weiliu had always berated that alter ego for agreeing to such a ridiculous arrangement, yet now he found himself strangely displeased.
Then the alternate personality’s broken, intermittent voice sounded in his mind:
“Get lost! Don’t get in my way. This woman’s opponent—mmh—is me. Today, I’ll see—ah—what tricks she can come up with.”
“Heh... If she thinks such petty methods alone can make this venerable one—ngh—surrender, then she must be dreaming—hah—of spring and autumn!”
Humiliating. Absolutely humiliating!
Han Weiliu snapped angrily, “Do you even know what is happening right now?”
Situ Zhuo forced himself to sound defiant. “It is nothing more than this woman—mmh—using some wicked art to provoke me, to question this venerable one’s—ah—skill.”
“Such a paltry trick—ahh—! Even if I lie here without moving, she... she will never get what she wants.”
Han Weiliu did not even want to spare the fool another glance. He began fighting with all his strength to reclaim control, trying to stop what was about to happen.
Yet Situ Zhuo was no pushover either. The two personalities kept switching places, each fighting to seize control, and neither could gain the upper hand.
In the end, both were too exhausted to resist, and Pei Liang had her way with them. Their bodies ended up belonging to her.
Even more shamefully, for all their fighting over control, neither of them held back when it came to doing what needed to be done.
At last, Pei Liang dangled a thin cigarette from her lips, looking utterly satisfied as she stroked the hair of Han Weiliu, who lay with his back to her.
“You’re so conflicted even at a time like this. It’s adorable,” she said softly.
Han Weiliu tugged the covers higher in embarrassment, tears spilling down his face.
Pei Liang hurriedly said, “Why are you crying again? Don’t be afraid! You may simply be more sensitive than most people. There’s nothing shameful about crying from pleasure.”
As she spoke, she leaned closer. “On the contrary, you look even more alluring when you cry. It’s almost impossible to restrain myself.”
Especially the way he kept shedding tears while stubbornly hurling threats at her—it made her want to push him even further and make him cry properly.
Still, since this was his first time, Pei Liang felt obliged to be considerate and gentle, lest she frighten him.
But Han Weiliu really was full of surprises. And, in particular, he possessed an impressive talent for disguise.
This definitely wasn’t the right time to bring that up. If she mentioned it now, she might very well be kicked out of bed. But sooner or later, she absolutely had to give it a try.
Judging from Situ Zhuo’s appearance, he was quite to her taste as well. Perhaps the possibilities didn’t end there.
Pei Liang felt that getting Han Weiliu was a bargain. Having one of him was practically the same as having the whole world.
But when Han Weiliu heard this, he was so humiliated and furious that he wanted to bite his tongue and end it all.
In a low voice, he said, “I wasn’t crying!”
And he truly hadn’t been. The one crying had been that clueless fool who knew nothing about such matters, had overestimated himself, and was still stubbornly refusing to admit defeat.
That fool was still boasting now. The instant Han Weiliu finished speaking, he seized control again and lifted his chin defiantly at Pei Liang.
“Next time, you’ll be the one crying.”
Pei Liang stroked him. “All right, all right! I’m looking forward to seeing how you perform next time.”
“…” He was still so infuriating.
Han Weiliu had completely lost patience with the fool. He let out a cold laugh. “You cried like a beaten dog, yet you still don’t know your place.”
Situ Zhuo’s voice still carried a sobbing undertone. “It was your useless body. If it wanted to cry, how was I supposed to control it?”
“This is certainly not my fault. Even when I was gravely wounded, have I ever so much as furrowed my brow?”
“Before you say that, how about lowering your voice? You’ve got a sob in your throat, and you still have the nerve to blame me?” Han Weiliu retorted.
Unable to save face, Situ Zhuo shifted the blame onto Pei Liang instead. “It’s this woman’s fault. She turned me over and over again, and repeatedly ordered me around.”
“You kept fighting for control, your body refused to obey, and you did everything disgraceful there was to do. That was why I was so humiliated and furious.”
“But this woman must know how formidable I am. You heard her just now—she said I nearly took her life!”
Han Weiliu: “…”
Forget it. Let him have his way.
He was tired.
