No one really knew when the figure known as The Green-Clad Guest suddenly became so well-known.
He always wore a plain green robe, moving through the crowd as faintly as a wisp of smoke. His features were plain and ordinary, so unexceptional that one could easily forget his face, yet his indifferent gaze carried a somewhat detached, otherworldly aura.
At first glance, others simply took him for a cold, secluded cultivator who ignored the affairs of the world. In reality, he was a man of chivalry, righteous, selfless, and always eager to help others.
Once, a cultivator found an ancient spirit jade in a secret realm. It should have been a great joy, but a passing thug merely cast a casual glance at it. The next day, the cultivator was found collapsed in a mountain stream, the spirit jade gone, and his spiritual energy completely sealed, with not a single trace of the culprit to be found.
The cultivator almost starved to death on the spot, but it was The Green-Clad Guest who kindly helped him break the seal. Even when the man offered magical artifacts as a reward, he refused cleanly and decisively.
After all, doing good deeds meant expecting nothing in return.
Another time, two major sects fought bitterly over a divine weapon, resulting in heavy casualties on both sides. From start to finish, The Green-Clad Guest had been watching from the sidelines, saying nothing, unwilling to involve himself in the karma of others.
However, when he saw those people fighting over a single weapon until corpses littered the ground, he couldn't bear the river of blood. He stepped forward and stopped the unnecessary conflict.
The crowd was deeply grateful to him, but he didn't linger. Without leaving his name, he turned and walked away.
Even the reclusive demon spirit clan, whose thousand-year spirit grass hidden in their forbidden grounds was about to wither, was saved by him. When the demons were pacing in anxiety, he offered timely guidance, helping them protect the spirit grass, maximizing its value, and refining the finest miraculous pills.
The demon spirit clan eagerly tried to find him to repay his kindness, but viewing fame as mere fleeting clouds, he had already vanished into the sea of people, nowhere to be found.
There were many, many more such incidents. It was precisely because The Green-Clad Guest had done so many good deeds without expecting anything in return that he gained such fame, which in turn provoked many jealous people to spread false rumors in an attempt to ruin his reputation.
"So, you're saying The Green-Clad Guest is a rare good person in this deceitful cultivation world?"
Mu Ran rested her hands on the stone table, propping up her chin as she stared at the storyteller, her question laced with a hint of suspicion.
Cangshu Bai picked up a teacup, took a calm sip, and spoke in his usual gentle tone, "Perhaps he isn't exactly a good person, just someone who never does anything against his conscience and morals."
Mu Ran said, "Although I rarely pay attention to the happenings in the cultivation world, I think I've heard the name of The Green-Clad Guest a few times. I heard he's a petty, vindictive, and treacherous person."
Cangshu Bai set down his teacup. "If he were truly a treacherous person, how could he have saved so many lives?"
"I also heard that The Green-Clad Guest's favorite thing to do is to shift the blame onto others, and then, when no one is looking, snatch the treasures and run."
"That's slander."
"Then I've also heard that The Green-Clad Guest has a terrible temper and his favorite hobby is wiping out entire sects."
"Rumors."
Mu Ran remained expressionless.
Cangshu Bai looked completely unperturbed, his expression unchanging.
Han Yu, lying on top of Mu Ran's head, was already dumbfounded.
It had long known that its master was shameless, but turning black into white and spouting nonsense so effortlessly still managed to shock the little Han Yu.
The sunlight was perfect today, warmly spilling over the mountains and forests, and even the breeze carried a hint of laziness.
So Cangshu Bai brought Mu Ran to this small pavilion on the hilltop to pass the time.
Outside the pavilion, the vegetation was lush and green, and beside it was a crystal-clear little pool. The water's surface was calm as a mirror, reflecting the sky and clouds.
However, the story being told in such beautiful scenery was rather comical.
Mu Ran had indeed been suspicious, but looking at Cangshu Bai's calm demeanor, without a blush or a skipped heartbeat, she felt she might have been wrong to doubt him.
Indeed, in the original story, Cangshu Bai, under the identity of The Green-Clad Guest, committed all sorts of evils. But their fates had long broken free from the so-called original plot. Perhaps the real Green-Clad Guest was exactly as Cangshu Bai described.
Mu Ran smiled and leaned against the young man. "If The Green-Clad Guest is so wonderful, I really want to see what he looked like when he first made a name for himself!"
Cangshu Bai fed her a bite of mung bean cake. "A greenhorn just starting out, not worth mentioning."
Tasting the sweetness of the cake, Mu Ran's voice also grew sweeter.
She mumbled, "But I just want to see. The Green-Clad Guest is hundreds of years older than me. When he became famous, I wasn't even born yet. I want to see how cute he was as a greenhorn."
Cangshu Bai's hand gripping the cake tightened. He lowered his eyes and remained silent.
Han Yu rolled its eyes.
Here we go again, here we go again. Old men are just so sensitive!
Mu Ran quickly realized what happened. She hugged his waist, tilted her face up, and smiled like a flower. "Cultivators have long lives. A gap of a few hundred years is just like a one or two-year difference among ordinary people. It's no big deal. He's not older than me at all!"
Cangshu Bai's eyelashes fluttered lightly. "Really?"
Mu Ran raised her hand and gently tucked a stray strand of white hair from his cheek behind his ear, laughing softly, "Of course it's true. Jinzhi is my favorite person. I would never lie to you."
The corners of Cangshu Bai's lips lifted slightly, and he brought the cake to her lips again, but she was a bit too full and shook her head, refusing it.
Not minding at all, he finished the rest of the cake in one bite. From his empty sleeve, black spiritual energy condensed into the shape of an arm. With one white and one black hand, he scooped her up into his arms and lowered his head to kiss her forehead.
"The sun is setting. We should go home."
Mu Ran reached out to wrap her arms around his neck, leaning her body slightly toward him.
Beneath her loose clothing, her lower abdomen was already slightly swollen, hiding a tender four-month-old little life.
She was carefully cradled in his arms, both light and heavy—a perfection he had never dared to hope for in his thousand years of past life.
Whenever Cangshu Bai thought of his past inadequacies, it felt like a thorn in his heart. Fortunately, after two hundred years of effort, she was finally pregnant, and his previously bent back could finally straighten up.
Mu Ran had been a bit lethargic after eating lately. Leaning against the young man's chest, her eyelids grew heavy, and she mumbled, "Jinzhi, my aunt is about to break through to the next realm soon. I want to find some time to visit her."
He said softly, "Alright, I'll go with you."
Unable to stay awake, Mu Ran drifted into dreamland before they even reached home.
When she regained consciousness, the warmth around her had completely dissipated, replaced by a cold, damp mist that made her shiver.
She opened her eyes in bewilderment. Before her was not the familiar house and bed, but an ancient, deep, and secluded secret realm.
Moss covered the ruined walls, spirit grass glowed faintly in the dark, and the low hum of an ancient array operating could be heard in the distance. Everything was so unfamiliar that it filled her with panic.
She instinctively touched her lower abdomen, which was still slightly swollen and carried a reassuring warmth, but the green-clad, white-haired man who would hold her securely was nowhere to be found.
A gust of cold wind swept past, swirling the fallen leaves on the ground and bringing with it a figure that was both familiar yet incredibly distant.
Wearing the same cyan robes, but it was a dark-haired youth.
He stood with one foot planted heavily on a cultivator's chest, pressing down with a force that seemed meant to crush bone and blood.
The youth's eyes were downcast, his lips pressed into a frigid line. His face held not a trace of hostility, nor any hint of amusement. There was only an almost numb indifference, as if what he was stepping on was not a human life, but a piece of useless rubble.
"The item." He spat out the words lightly. His voice was clear but bone-chillingly cold, devoid of any superfluous emotion, yet carrying an unquestionable, oppressive weight.
Coughing up blood, the cultivator shook his head desperately, begging for mercy. "I... I really don't have it..."
The youth raised an eyebrow slightly, though his eyes remained utterly placid. He merely increased the pressure of his foot.
"The ancient spiritual jade you hid in the deepest part of your sea of consciousness." His tone was calm, yet every word precisely pierced through the man's final facade. "If you don't hand it over, I will personally cleave open your sea of consciousness and take it. You can hand it over yourself and suffer a little less, or—"
The youth leaned in slightly. His dark hair cascaded down, obscuring half of his aloof face, and his tone was as light as the wind. "I will dig out your spiritual root along with it."
The cultivator had just murdered his own sect members to monopolize this treasure, never expecting to be ambushed by such a young lad.
Trembling all over with a mix of anger and terror, he cried, "I'll give it to you! I'll give it to you, alright?!"
The ancient jade, its spiritual light concealed within and still stained with the blood of his fellow disciples, was pathetically offered up to the youth.
The dark-haired, cyan-robed youth cast his eyes down for a brief glance. With a slight lift of his fingertips, the ancient jade floated effortlessly into his hand.
He rubbed it between his fingertips to confirm its authenticity. His expression remained utterly indifferent, without even a sliver of satisfaction.
The cultivator breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he had just managed to keep his life.
But in the very next second, the youth's foot suddenly pushed down with lethal force.
A short, sharp scream was abruptly cut off.
Blood pooled across the ground, but the youth turned a blind eye to it. He simply wiped the spiritual jade in his fingers casually and tucked it away.
Having finished all this, he slowly raised his head.
His features were sharp, his eyes entirely devoid of warmth, holding nothing but a bottomless, freezing silence.
And right where his gaze landed, he happened to see a young woman in a green dress standing not too far away.
Time seemed to stand still in that moment.
There was no flicker of recognition in his eyes—only wariness, a sinister darkness, and a chilling murderous intent at having his vicious deeds witnessed.
However, after scrutinizing the woman who had suddenly appeared, his gaze lingered for a moment longer on her lower abdomen. Then, a fleeting sense of apathetic mockery brushed through his mind.
How utterly foolish.
To dare wander into a death trap like this while pregnant.
