A Sigh
Bai Roushuang was teaching Yue'er how to cook mushrooms. Since their triumphant return the day before, bringing back an assortment of small items including needles and thread, the servants of the Demon Palace had grown quite fond of them—especially the chef, who, having resolved a long-standing grievance, generously lent them the kitchen for Bai Roushuang to experiment as she pleased.
She planned to make fried mushrooms, so she first washed and blanched them. Yue'er and the chef watched her in confusion.
Bai Roushuang’s lips twitched. It was understandable for Yue'er to be puzzled, but for a chef to share the same bewilderment—had he never even blanched ingredients before?
She looked at Yue'er with genuine sympathy. "You’ve suffered."
"..."
After draining the mushrooms, Bai Roushuang retrieved a bird egg from the spare ingredients, cracked it open, and sniffed. It was gamier than chicken eggs, but it would do.
"How do you usually eat these bird eggs?" she asked.
"Just boil them," the chef scratched his head. "Oh, I heard you mortals have something called 'tiger-skin eggs.' But we don’t have tigers in the demon realm—could we substitute gecko skin instead?"
"..." Bai Roushuang’s heart ached for the Demon Lord and his subordinates. "No. Absolutely not. Please don’t."
The chef sighed regretfully. "Someday, I’ll show you my self-created recipes. We can exchange ideas."
"...Sure," Bai Roushuang agreed bravely, her voice trembling.
The fried mushrooms were soon ready, their aroma wafting from the pan. Bai Roushuang deftly scooped them onto a plate and handed a portion to the chef, who took a bite and suddenly fell into deep thought.
She waved a hand in front of his face, but when he didn’t react, she didn’t press further. Instead, she and Yue'er took their share to the garden, settling atop a giant mushroom cap to eat.
If mushrooms had consciousness, the scene would have been nothing short of cruel.
Yue'er nibbled on a mushroom and gave Bai Roushuang a thumbs-up.
"Why does your name seem so different from the naming style of others in the demon realm?" Bai Roushuang finally couldn’t resist asking Ling Yuechan.
Yue'er smiled. "My mother named me. She loved mortal poetry when she was alive. 'Yuechan, Yuechan'—'the pale clouds congeal, the moon shines serene.'"
Not wanting to touch on painful memories, Bai Roushuang quickly added, "Your surname suits the name beautifully too."
"Ling? Actually, I don’t have a surname. 'Ling Yuechan' is just my given name. My mother gave me a mortal-style name so I could move more easily in the human world someday. She adored the mortal realm and always hoped demons and humans could coexist peacefully, trading and learning from each other. She even prepared many beautiful dresses for me to wear in the human world." Yue'er shook her head. "But she never lived to see that day."
Bai Roushuang patted her shoulder in silent comfort.
Yue'er continued, "So, I don’t have a surname. My father doesn’t either—his is something like 'Qilu Awa Aya Yibalu...'"
Bai Roushuang stared in astonishment as Yue'er uttered a string of bizarre syllables, then forced a laugh. "That’s... quite a long surname."
"Yeah," Yue'er grinned. "You should see the agony on his face when he has to write his full name on official documents."
Bai Roushuang couldn’t help but laugh along.
Yue'er explained further, "Demons only use their surnames in childhood. After turning fifteen, we choose our own names or have a close elder name us."
"You mean... names like 'Crystal Heart' or 'Fearless Warrior'—they picked those themselves?"
"Mm." Yue'er nodded.
Bai Roushuang mused, "So they chose them at fifteen. That explains a lot."
"Can the names be changed again?" A woman’s voice drifted eerily from behind them, followed by a head poking out from a mushroom stalk.
"Senior Sister?" Bai Roushuang startled. "Did you sleep in the garden last night?"
"Mm. I wanted to see what it felt like to sleep inside a mushroom." Xu Shulou stretched and rolled out from the giant mushroom’s stem.
Yue'er chuckled and answered her earlier question. "You can add characters to your name. For example, the gatekeeper was originally just 'Li San.' But after some... unfortunate incidents, he renamed himself 'Li San: Beauty Fades, Love Wanes.'"
"..." Care to elaborate on those incidents?
Xu Shulou leisurely climbed onto the mushroom cap and sat with them. Bai Roushuang noticed the weariness on her face. "Did you not sleep well?"
Yue'er asked, "Was the mushroom house uncomfortable?"
"No, it was quite soft inside. I just had a dream."
"A good one?"
Xu Shulou blinked, recalling the expression on her dream-self’s face. They say no one knows you better than yourself.
She shook her head. "Hard to say. But I don’t think it was a good dream."
In the dream, Xu Shoushuang was half-mad. Who said she would stop after dealing with Fan Yang?
———
That night, Xu Shulou dreamed again.
The same courtyard, blooming with pear blossoms, but time had clearly advanced. Someone must have spent extravagantly on an array to keep the flowers perpetually in bloom. A figure limped along, leaning against the wall, hobbling past the courtyard and through the corridors. Servants and disciples passed by without sparing her a glance, as if she were invisible.
"Xu Shulou." A melodious voice called out to her.
The limping woman halted and lifted her head, revealing a swollen face.
Luo Fusheng, who had called her, quickly caught up. Both wore plain robes—not pure white, but subdued, as if something had happened here that demanded discretion.
After a pause, Luo Fusheng reached out to steady her. "Are you alright? How could my husband strike you so harshly in front of others?"
Xu Shulou’s expression remained blank. "The sect has been plagued by misfortunes—first Elder Fan Yang, now... It’s natural for him to be on edge. The heavy hand was inevitable."
Luo Fusheng shook her head, frustrated by her resignation. She glanced at Xu Shulou’s legs. "Can they still be treated?"
"Unlikely. Several physicians said it’s too late. I’ll limp like this from now on."
A flicker of pity crossed Luo Fusheng’s eyes. "He knew you couldn’t have killed her, yet he still punished you..."
Xu Shulou was disturbingly understanding. "Xiao Ya and I went out together. Since she was killed, I bear responsibility. It’s just a shame I’m so weak—I was knocked out in an instant, didn’t even see the killer’s face."
Xiao Ya had been one of the livelier women in Lu Beichen’s harem. Though Luo Fusheng hadn’t been close to her, the thought of her death still brought a pang of sorrow. "But you were gravely injured too. He shouldn’t have made you kneel for ten days and nights at the mountain’s base... Do you truly feel no resentment?"
Lu Beichen instructed the servants to keep an eye on Xu Shulou, ensuring she would be roused if she fainted, forcing her to continue kneeling. Had it not been for this, she wouldn’t have lost the use of one leg. Yet he dismissed it as unimportant, failing to summon a physician in time, leaving her permanently lame.
Xu Shulou sighed. "After all, Xiao Ya was the imperial princess of a kingdom. Even though her father has passed, the dignity of the Xiao Kingdom must still be upheld. How could my husband kneel himself? As the leader of a major sect, a man of such pride—how could he ever bend his knee?"
"..." This attitude left Luo Fusheng utterly speechless.
Xu Shulou had once been a princess of the Xu clan, her ties to the Xiao Kingdom undeniable. Yet now, she knelt willingly before the Xiao royal envoys, so submissive it was hard to fathom.
Still, it was precisely because of her lack of dignity and her pitifully low cultivation that no one truly suspected her of killing Xiao Ya. Lu Beichen’s actions were merely to placate the Xiao royal family.
Luo Fusheng felt a pang of sorrow, but Xu Shulou began defending Lu Beichen again in her usual rambling manner. "I heard the Xiao Kingdom used to offer vast tributes to the Lingxiao Sect every year. Now that Xiao Ya is dead, that income is gone. Naturally, my husband is upset, so it’s understandable if he’s harsher with me."
Luo Fusheng gave her a sharp look, momentarily unsure whether Xu Shulou was genuinely defending her husband or subtly mocking him for caring more about the lost silver than Xiao Ya’s death.
Studying her expression, Luo Fusheng found no trace of deception and soon dismissed her suspicions. This woman clearly adored Lu Beichen. Unlike Luo Fusheng, who had lost everything and had no choice but to accept Lu Beichen’s arrangements, Xu Shulou had once been the head disciple of Bright Moon Peak on Dustless Island—she had options. Yet she had willingly walked this path step by step. This wasn’t just love—she was utterly devoted to her husband.
Xu Shulou looked up, seemingly unaware of any ambiguity in her words. "What are you thinking?"
"Nothing," Luo Fusheng replied, then cautioned her, "These days, my husband has been in a foul mood. You should stay in your courtyard. Knowing he’s irritable, why do you keep approaching him instead of keeping your distance?"
"I know. With the Xiao Kingdom’s silver gone, my husband has countless people clamoring for funds. Every one of his subordinates requires resources. Though other income sources still sustain him for now… how could he be in good spirits? I understand." Xu Shulou nodded, her tone brimming with wifely virtue and patience. "But I can’t bear to see him like this, so I can’t help wanting to make calming soup for him myself. Not to boast, but back when I was the head disciple of Bright Moon Peak, my calming soup was loved by my master, my junior brothers, and even my husband. Only my junior sister disliked it."
"..."
Just then, another group passed through the courtyard. Luo Fusheng stiffened, and Xu Shulou looked up to see a lavishly adorned, strikingly beautiful woman approaching from the other end of the corridor. Spotting them, the woman spat in disgust and muttered, "What bad luck."
Watching her retreat with her maids, Xu Shulou blinked. "The daughter of Gao Zhuo, master of the Black Tortoise Tower… what was her name again?"
Luo Fusheng unclenched her fists. "Gao Ning'er."
"Ah, right. My memory fails me," Xu Shulou chuckled. "Xiao Ya held the status of an equal wife. Now that she’s gone, Gao Ning'er, a mere concubine, dares to parade around in such finery. How amusing."
Luo Fusheng’s face remained wooden. "Gao Zhuo is the master of the Black Tortoise Tower, highly favored by my husband. No matter how ostentatious Gao Ning'er acts, no one would dare trouble her. Of course she can afford to be arrogant. Unlike us, who have no one to shield us—we have no choice but to tread carefully."
A shadow flickered in Xu Shulou’s eyes.
Noticing Luo Fusheng’s silence, Xu Shulou spoke again. "Would you mind helping me back to my room?"
"Of course." Luo Fusheng glanced at the surrounding servants, their expressions indifferent, and sighed. "These people are experts at flattering the powerful and trampling the weak. The way they fawn over Lady Bai is nauseating."
Xu Shulou, however, smiled faintly. "How fascinating. This place feels less like the cultivation world and more like the inner quarters of a mortal household. Having come from the mortal realm myself, I find it oddly familiar."
Luo Fusheng gave her a strange look. "Familiar? You don’t resent these sycophants who enable cruelty?"
"I’ve decided to stop hating," Xu Shulou lowered her gaze. "Hatred is the most useless emotion. One must… do something about it instead."
Luo Fusheng nodded. "If that’s how you console yourself, so be it."
Suddenly, Xu Shulou burst into laughter, so hard she nearly lost her breath. "Ah, Luo Fusheng, you’re truly adorable."
"What nonsense are you spouting?" Luo Fusheng shook her head, unfazed, and helped her back to her quarters.
———
When Xu Shulou awoke from her dream, all that remained was a long, quiet sigh.
