Fu Chaosheng, a native of the Ghost Domain's Dragon City, was self-taught and unaffiliated with any sect, having created his own Flowing Frost Blade Technique. Later, he met the swordsman Zhou Shen, and together they ventured into the Dark Valley, severed the Long River, and traveled across the Ghost Domain, slaying demons and evils until their whereabouts became unknown.
Storybooks often embellish tales, and after reading Life-and-Death Struggle in the Ghost Domain, Xie Jingci only grasped a rough outline of Fu Chaosheng's life.
As a young woman, she was particularly susceptible to tales of chivalry and heroism. Back then, the story had left her restless and heartsick, and the vague, open-ended conclusion had left her in a funk for days.
Yet now, standing in the Ghost Domain and witnessing the fates of the two protagonists firsthand, she felt an even deeper pang of disappointment.
Fu Chaosheng had vanished without a trace fifteen years ago, his name tarnished with the stigma of cowardice. Zhou Shen, though still alive, seemed to have lost all his heroic spirit, reduced to an unremarkable martial arts school owner.
This was not the story she had hoped for.
Behind the so-called "happily ever after" lay nothing but scattered, mundane debris. Everything happening in Wucheng now was a far cry from the gallant heroism and sword-swinging adventures of legend.
"I want to know," Xie Jingci weighed her words carefully before speaking solemnly, "what happened after Fu Chaosheng and Zhou Shen left the Sunset Valley."
The Sunset Valley was where Life-and-Death Struggle in the Ghost Domain had abruptly ended.
Wen Miaorou leaned lazily against a wooden pillar, eyeing her with a detached expression before answering with a question of her own: "What's your relationship with him?"
Mo Xiaoyang had warned her that Fu Chaosheng's reputation in Wucheng was far from stellar, and to avoid unnecessary trouble, she should refrain from openly expressing admiration for him in front of others.
Xie Jingci hesitated briefly. "I've heard stories about him and became curious."
A shadow of irritation flickered across Wen Miaorou's brow. "Then you must know about how he broke his promises and betrayed his comrades, right?"
"I know—"
The last word caught in her throat as Xie Jingci froze.
She had indeed heard of his "broken promises," but what were those four additional words referring to?
The moment Fu Chaosheng's name was mentioned, Wen Miaorou's demeanor darkened noticeably, her tone dropping several degrees colder.
Sensing some history between the two, Xie Jingci ventured cautiously, "Betrayed his comrades?"
"People in Wucheng aren’t that petty. Did you think mere broken promises would make them resent Fu Chaosheng for so many years?"
Wen Miaorou let out a cold laugh at Xie Jingci's blank expression. "What they hate most is that Fu Chaosheng leaked secrets to Jiang Tu as a bargaining chip to leave the Ghost Domain, leading to countless innocent deaths and shattered families."
This was something Xie Jingci had never heard before.
Her eyes darted up to exchange a bewildered glance with Mo Xiaoyang before Wen Miaorou continued.
"See that shabby street outside?"
Wen Miaorou gestured. "Under Jiang Tu's rule, the high and mighty indulge in extravagance and revelry every night, while the poor in backwaters like ours can only scrape by—living like this, who wouldn’t want to fight back and overthrow those tyrants?"
Xie Jingci nodded. "So the 'comrades' you mentioned were others who wanted to assassinate Jiang Tu?"
"Jiang Tu’s cultivation is profound. No single person in Wucheng stands a chance against him. Before Fu Chaosheng arrived, a group of righteous warriors had secretly gathered, planning to ambush Jiang Tu during his city patrol when the Ghost Gate opened."
But the odds of success were slim.
Most cultivators in Wucheng were barely at the Foundation Establishment stage, with only a handful reaching the Golden Core. To challenge Jiang Tu was nothing short of suicidal.
"Then Fu Chaosheng came, and the responsibility fell on him."
Wen Miaorou had been idly examining her nails but suddenly looked up. "After he disappeared, Jiang Tu claimed Fu Chaosheng had revealed the plot, and immediately dispatched the Surveillance Division to execute every last one of the conspirators."
She let out a low chuckle. "It’s no surprise you youngsters haven’t heard—after that incident, the Surveillance Division went mad hunting down rebels. To this day, no one dares mention what happened back then."
This was a twist Xie Jingci had never anticipated.
Far from just scattered debris, Fu Chaosheng’s ending was more like a filthy swamp—transforming from a revered hero to a reviled traitor in a single day.
"But... whether it’s Fu Chaosheng leaving the Ghost Domain or betraying Wucheng’s people, all of that comes solely from Jiang Tu’s claims, right?"
Xie Jingci frowned. "Isn’t it possible that everything was a lie fabricated by Jiang Tu?"
Wen Miaorou didn’t answer immediately.
Lost in thought, she suddenly stepped forward, scrutinizing Xie Jingci with an unreadable gaze. "Zhou Shen said you were once saved by Fu Chaosheng... You don’t believe he was a coward either, do you?"
Either?
Before Xie Jingci could process the implication, Wen Miaorou pressed closer. "What was the name of the creature Fu Chaosheng defeated in the Sunset Valley?"
"Nine-Headed Serpent," Xie Jingci blurted out.
"His most frequently used blade technique?"
"Severing Frost."
"His favorite food and type of woman?"
"Beef noodles and—what kind of question is that?!"
Wait.
Suppressing the urge to dismiss her as absurd, Xie Jingci felt a sudden realization.
She knew these details only because of her deep admiration for Fu Chaosheng, committing every word of the storybook to memory. As a information broker, Wen Miaorou wouldn’t have memorized such minutiae unless she cared deeply about him.
Moreover, Wen Miaorou had used the word "either" when referring to disbelief in Fu Chaosheng’s cowardice.
Xie Jingci’s eyes widened. "Are you also—"
"I knew it. Anyone who’s read about his life couldn’t help but admire him."
Wen Miaorou gripped her shoulders, turning what should have been a normal conversation into something resembling a solemn underground rendezvous. "I understand you."
What was it they said? Across the seas, we are close; at the ends of the earth, we are neighbors.
Or, After a long drought, sweet rain; in a foreign land, an old friend.
Her guess was right—this was another fan.
And judging by Wen Miaorou’s fervor, she was undoubtedly Fu Chaosheng’s most devoted follower!
"Jiang Tu is nothing but a tyrant. He’d do anything to serve his own interests."
Wen Miaorou exhaled heavily. "After the battle with the Nine-Headed Serpent in the Sunset Valley, both Fu Chaosheng and Zhou Shen suffered life-threatening injuries. They were saved by a female physician and brought to Wucheng, the nearest city, to recover. Fu Chaosheng fell in love with her, and with Zhou Shen’s dantian damaged and his cultivation crippled, the two stayed for four whole years."
Xie Jingci asked curiously, "What happened to the physician?"
"She died in childbirth, leaving behind a baby."
Wen Miaorou clicked her tongue in disdain. "The child was utterly useless, inheriting none of his father’s talent. Worse, he bought into the slander, convinced Fu Chaosheng was a worthless coward. He left Wucheng years ago and never returned."
At this, Mo Xiaoyang coughed awkwardly.
Xie Jingci had a sudden realization and quietly transmitted her voice: "Fu Chaosheng's son—could it be Fu Nanxing?"
He abruptly straightened his posture, his face filled with disbelief as he lifted his gaze, his eyes clearly asking, "How did you know?"
If she couldn’t guess this, it would be an insult to all the romance novels Xie Jingci had devoured in the smaller realms—
Unless Wucheng had a place called "Fu Family Village," given the rarity of the surname "Fu," the two seemingly unrelated individuals must have some hidden connection.
Realizing this and pointing it out immediately would save them from the tedious future reveal and the clichéd reactions of "shock" or "disbelief."
Flattening all tropes and leaving them nowhere to go—Xie Jingci quite liked that.
"Let’s not mention that brat, bad luck," Wen Miaorou said, resuming her posture with arms crossed and leaning against a wooden pillar. "In any case, as you can see, Wucheng has been stripped down to its bare bones. The wealthy here can still barely indulge in pleasures, while the surrounding areas are filled with penniless paupers. As for the incident fifteen years ago, there are two major unresolved points."
"First, according to the failed soul-searching technique, Fu Chaosheng’s soul isn’t in the Ghost Realm—it must have gone elsewhere. That makes his whereabouts a complete mystery."
"Second, the identity of the informant back then remains unclear. To know the identities of all the righteous warriors, the informant must have either been among them or had extremely close ties to them—but as far as I know, everyone who fits that description is already dead."
This was all the information Wen Miaorou could provide.
Or rather, all the information she was willing to give Xie Jingci.
Superficial yet detailed, never touching the core—this was a woman of considerable depth. Even if she was hiding something, it would be impossible to dig it out easily.
"I have one more question," Xie Jingci said, glancing out the window where pristine snow had been soaked by the filthy water on the ground. From above, she could faintly see a few thinly clad children chasing and playing.
She only looked for a brief moment before shifting her gaze back to Wen Miaorou’s face. "This place is impoverished. You clearly don’t lack money, so why insist on living here?"
Wen Miaorou chuckled softly, a rare hint of amusement in her tone. "This is where I grew up. I just can’t bring myself to leave. Speaking of which, when Fu Chaosheng was still around, he often took me to the rooftops to build snowmen."
With the streets as filthy as they were, the rooftops were indeed the only place left for snowmen.
"Those days were poor, but honestly quite happy. My luck wasn’t as rotten as it is now."
Wen Miaorou usually spoke quickly, rarely pausing, but here her words faltered almost imperceptibly. "Fu Chaosheng was kind to all children. I remember one day when a fire broke out in the mountains—he rushed into the flames and saved a boy. His entire back was burned, while the boy only had a scar on his left hand."
Xie Jingci hummed in acknowledgment.
"When you leave, try not to mention Fu Chaosheng to others," Wen Miaorou advised. "The Surveillance Bureau and the Jin Estate are both investigating everywhere. If they overhear, it might stir up unnecessary trouble."
"The Jin Estate?"
"That’s the watchdog Jiang Tu sent after Fu Chaosheng disappeared, tasked with suppressing any signs of unrest. Recently, their efforts have intensified."
A faint smirk curled her lips as a dark glint flashed in her eyes. "The Ghost Gate is about to open. As per tradition, Jiang Tu will arrive in Wucheng tomorrow… Be prepared. There might be quite a show to watch."
Wen Miaorou, the wealthy fangirl she was, had spent years in Wucheng admiring Fu Chaosheng alone. Now that she’d finally met a kindred spirit, she was overjoyed. Upon hearing that Pei Du’s meridians were severed, she went out of her way to find the best physician in Wucheng to attempt repairing them.
Xie Jingci waited outside the room for what felt like ages, until the sky gradually darkened and the creak of the door finally sounded.
The physician’s immediate "I did my best" gave her the eerie illusion that there was a corpse lying inside. After a brief pause, he added, "Young Master Pei’s injuries are too severe. With my skill, I could only restore about twenty percent."
Xie Jingci let out a long exhale. "That’s fine, Doctor! Thank you, Doctor! You’ve worked hard!"
Meridian repair, as the name suggested, involved mending broken pathways to allow spiritual energy to circulate through the body.
The twelve primary meridians crisscrossed like a vast network throughout the body. Pei Du, already injured, had his meridians shattered like a jigsaw puzzle—repairing them was no easy feat.
Restoring twenty percent in the Ghost Realm was already a stroke of luck amidst misfortune.
After the physician left with a few final instructions, Xie Jingci, in high spirits, knocked on the already open door.
A soft "Come in" sounded from inside.
The pain of meridian repair was said to be no less than the original injury—described as akin to needles and threads brutally weaving through one’s veins, a torment worse than death.
Seeing Pei Du now, his face was indeed as pale as paper.
The agony lingered, his brows faintly furrowed. When he noticed Xie Jingci enter, he rasped out a "Miss Xie."
"Still hurting?" She detected the strain in his voice and sat effortlessly on the wooden stool by the bed, looking down at him.
His face was pale, his lips too—only his eyes remained dark, glimmering faintly.
If Pei Du could recover bit by bit, Xie Jingci would undoubtedly be pleased.
She was still waiting to face him in a proper duel. For this proud young mistress, underhanded tactics were beneath her. The only way to truly win was to defeat her opponent outright.
"Try to endure it. Once the pain fades, you can start cultivating again like before."
Still a young girl at heart, she couldn’t resist a bit of smugness, grinning as she asked, "Don’t you feel even a little happy?"
Her smile made Pei Du instinctively press his lips together, a faint curve tugging at the corners.
Miss Xie often smiled now, but before coming to the Ghost Realm, she had almost never smiled at him.
During his lowest moments, he would steal glances at her. Just hearing her laughter from afar while she chatted with friends was enough to lift his spirits.
Those were stolen moments of joy.
Now, being so close, watching her eyes crinkle with amusement, Pei Du felt a dazed realization—this smile was one she was giving him.
"Were you just smiling secretly?" Xie Jingci, thinking she’d caught him, teased triumphantly. "Then I’ll take that as you being happy."
Pei Du, for all his refined and gentle appearance, was stubborn and ruthless, rarely showing his emotions.
Yet here he was, secretly smiling over meridian repair. How childish.
Pei Du: "...Mn. Happy."
After a pause, he added softly, "Thank you, Miss Xie."
Xie Jingci, shameless as ever, lifted her chin. "You’re welcome."
Pei Du’s lips quirked again. "Did Miss Xie uncover any leads?"
"Nothing too useful. Just that Jiang Tu will arrive tomorrow, and the Ghost Gate is about to open. By then, cultivators from the outside world will likely flood in."
Including the Pei family.
The Pei residence had issued a widespread manhunt for him. If the two sides were to meet in the ghost realm, things might spiral out of control.
Pei Du understood the implication behind her words but hadn’t yet formulated a response when Xie Jingci suddenly asked, "Does repairing your meridians hurt terribly?"
He looked up in confusion, meeting her straightforward gaze. Xie Jingci seemed about to say more, but her movements abruptly froze.
Xie Jingci felt that this momentary daze was utterly idiotic, yet she couldn’t help it.
She knew the previous topic would make Pei Du uncomfortable, and just as she noticed the blood seeping from his lower lip—bitten raw during the meridian repair—she clumsily shifted the conversation.
Before she could utter another word, however, the system’s text appeared in her mind.
Xie Jingci fumed, "I refuse to accept this. Why is it always him?"
[Lines are distributed based on context.]
The system replied honestly, [These scenarios just happen to involve him. I can’t help it either. Imagine if you randomly grabbed a passerby and said, ‘Clean enough to bear my child,’ or ‘Brother, I’m cold’?]
...She’d rather grab a random stranger than embarrass herself in front of Pei Du. Really.
A cold wind blew past the window, and Pei Du noticed the girl by his bed stir slightly.
Miss Xie suddenly raised her hand, her thumb a soft, rounded crescent of pale jade, slowly moving toward him.
Without giving him a chance to evade, Xie Jingci swept her thumb across his lower lip.
Pei Du’s mind exploded.
Her touch was feather-light, tracing from the corner of his mouth to the center before pressing gently.
A faint sting, laced with a tingling numbness.
"You’re bleeding here. Did you bite it while repairing your meridians?"
Her fingertip glided over, smearing a fallen bead of blood like crimson lip rouge, staining the boy’s pale, thin lips red.
Pei Du’s heart hung suspended in his chest, too afraid to beat or make a sound, trembling faintly.
He saw Miss Xie’s innocent, earnest expression as she asked, "This doesn’t seem to clean it properly... Did I hurt you?"
Xie Jingci internally gagged.
If this were Pei Du at his peak, he would’ve tossed her out of the room without hesitation. Only in this state would his reaction be so—
Xie Jingci hated to admit it, but the first word that popped into her head was adorable.
Followed by amusing.
Pei Du was usually aloof, but now, flushed from the cold, his long lashes fluttered uncontrollably, having never been teased like this before.
Not to mention he lay weakly in bed, his dark hair splayed in disarray, his eyes brimming with undisguised panic, his lips glistening with an alluring red.
The fluster lasted only a moment.
Pei Du quickly regained his composure but didn’t jerk away from her touch. Instead, he reflexively reached out, pressing his hand over hers.
The move caught her off guard. As the instigator of this bold advance, Xie Jingci was the one left breathless.
What’s he—what’s he trying to do?
Grab her fingers and hurl her out the window?
"...It’s fine."
The sensation in his palm was warm and soft, and Pei Du was equally unprepared for his own impulsive action.
He didn’t use much force, suppressing the urge to pull away in embarrassment. Instead, he silently moved his thumb, rotating it slightly to press against Xie Jingci’s fingertip, wiping away the thin smear of blood.
Xie Jingci turned her face away, unsettled.
What is this? She’d rather Pei Du throw her out the window.
The friction between their fingertips was ticklish, especially with their contrasting body temperatures. The room was silent, save for the soft shush of snow sliding off the eaves.
Once the blood was gone, Pei Du quickly withdrew his hand, his voice low and hoarse. "No need to trouble yourself, Miss Xie."
His lips were cracked and bleeding. If Xie Jingci touched them, she’d only dirty her fingers.
It was just a minor wound.
Pei Du instinctively licked his lips, his tongue brushing the cut. As the metallic tang of blood filled his senses, it suddenly struck him—this was where she had touched him.
The thought came unbidden, but Pei Du couldn’t shake the feeling that this action was akin to savoring the lingering warmth of her fingertip.
Miss Xie watched him intently, her gaze unblinking.
It was an utterly vulnerable position—every expression, every detail, even this faintly intimate gesture, laid bare before her, impossible to hide.
Pei Du could barely endure her scrutiny, his face burning.
If this continued, she’d surely notice his blush.
He turned onto his side, shielding his face, his voice deeper than ever. "...Miss Xie, I’m unwell today. You should rest early too."
It was a dismissal.
Xie Jingci wasn’t shameless enough to linger. She rose quietly and left, shutting the door behind her. Once outside, she asked the system in a sullen tone, "Is he... upset with me?"
[System: Hm?]
"That move earlier," she paused, then emphasized with a light kick to the wall, "Was it really so repulsive?"
He even grabbed my hand.
Xie Jingci had a strong suspicion this was retaliation, because she had been embarrassingly flustered.
How vile!
The system giggled. [I can’t comprehend these emotional fluctuations. But based on accumulated data, the most plausible answer is ‘frustrated longing and burning rage.’]
It projected a text excerpt into her mind.
[Excerpt from Domineering Love: The CEO’s Contract Lover:
"You don’t love me?"
Xie Jingci’s eyes flashed with three parts fury, four parts jealousy, her handsome face twisting. "You won’t even let me touch you? Is it really so repulsive? What does she have that I don’t?"
Pei Du stubbornly turned away. "Miss Xie, love cannot be forced. Please respect yourself."]
A cliché scene between a tyrannical villain and a delicate protagonist, the dialogue heart-stoppingly cringeworthy—except the names had been swapped with hers and Pei Du’s.
Xie Jingci’s scalp prickled.
"I’m warning you, never show me this again."
She paused, recalling Pei Du’s dismissal, and frowned seriously. "Did I really anger him? Or... is my seductress persona just that unconvincing? Not a single shred of charm?"
[I’d say your audacity is impressively thick.]
Xie Jingci: Hmph.
She’d overstepped first. She really ought to think of a way to appease him.
But coaxing someone was so hard. What a headache.
Meanwhile, inside the bedroom, Pei Du abruptly rolled over.
Today, he’d succeeded in repairing his meridians. Though his cultivation was negligible now, one day, he’d stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Miss Xie again.
He’d trained relentlessly for years to reach that goal. Starting over was nothing.
He knew his own strength.
Born with a sword bone, forming his golden core in his youth—in swordsmanship, no disciple in the academy could rival him. Even in this reduced state, he carried the pride of a swordsman.
Pei Du had initially buried himself entirely under the quilt, but the heavy bedding trapped heat in the cramped space, making his body burn even hotter.
So he could only lift his head from the bedding, breathing in the long-missed chill of deep winter, letting the cold seep through his entire body.
When Xie Jingci had been just inches away from him earlier… he had nearly suffocated from nervousness.
And then she had even reached out, touching him with her fingers, smiling softly.
Her gaze remained clear and bright, devoid of any teasing or ambiguity—undoubtedly sincere in her concern for him. Yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift to romantic notions. It was truly—
His disheveled, soft black hair scattered across the pillow, brushing against his cheek and neck with a faint tickle.
Now alone, Pei Du couldn’t suppress the guilty conscience of a thief, burying the right side of his face into the pillow and pressing his thin lips together.
They were dry, cracked with fine lines, and when his tongue grazed them, only a faint metallic taste remained.
Xie Jingci probably wouldn’t like such a texture, yet she hadn’t immediately pulled her hand away.
The lingering warmth of her fingertips still seemed to cling to him. Pei Du cursed himself as hopeless, yet his heartbeat grew increasingly vivid, as if gripped by a large hand—thumping wildly.
He had even held her hand.
It was the first time he’d touched it—so much smaller than he’d imagined. His mind had gone utterly blank, yet Xie Jingci hadn’t pulled back.
Pei Du turned over again, the corners of his lips lifting uncontrollably.
If only Xie Jingci would smile at him more often.
When she smiled, he felt happy too.
Like countless stars suddenly falling from the sky, landing right in his eyes—utterly, breathtakingly mesmerizing, stirring a desire in him to keep it all to himself, more fiercely than ever before.
