As the clothing was slowly pulled down, the fabric brushed against the fine, blood-streaked marks on his skin. Though the touch was gentle, it carried an indescribable sting of pain.
Because of this discomfort, the sensation of removing his garments became all the more pronounced. Pei Du stiffened his back, gritting his teeth in silence.
Everything that had happened today was utterly bewildering. He had stumbled into an encounter with Miss Xie, and then, inexplicably, found himself led astray by her, even blurting out words so brazen and shameless—and…
And then stripping off his clothes right before her, exposing this scar-riddled body.
This was far from the scenario he had envisioned.
Pei Du had always been one to abide by rules, accustomed to burying all emotions deep within.
Yet on the day their families had arranged the marriage engagement, he had, for once, indulged in wine, sitting alone beneath a peach tree, burying his face in his knees as he secretly smiled.
It was the first time in years he had felt such joy, as if struck by a blissful dream.
The peach tree in the courtyard, having taken on a spirit of its own, teased him: "Your betrothed must be just as delighted. Young Master, with your striking looks and innate talent for the sword—even if it were just your face and figure alone, countless women would surely admire you."
Pei Du, muddled from drink, only remembered shaking his head.
With a temperament like Miss Xie’s, she would certainly not feel particularly happy.
She always wore a languid smile toward others, yet the moment she faced him, her expression would turn cold, her grip tightening around the hilt of her blade—she had always been annoyed by him.
Back then, Pei Du had thought that if Miss Xie truly couldn’t stand him, she could simply draft a letter of annulment before the wedding.
This annulment had to come from her, after all, as the one who was rejected would inevitably suffer damage to their reputation.
But for the duration that the engagement remained in effect, he wanted to be selfish—to indulge in this stolen dream.
Just for a little while, so he could at least feel that the longing he had carried for so many years had finally found a place to rest.
—Though the odds were slim, what if Miss Xie didn’t want to annul the marriage?
Then they would bow in matrimony, and Pei Du, though inexperienced, knew well of the intimacy that followed the wedding night.
That day, the drunken youth had stared blankly at the peach tree, his face flushed as he earnestly wondered: Would this body of his please Miss Xie?
His senior and junior brothers at the academy all praised his physique as exceptional. No matter what, it shouldn’t disappoint her.
His mangled index finger, pressed against his chest, paused.
Would it… truly not disappoint her?
The cave was dark and silent, with only a faint, snow-like glow seeping in from outside.
Pei Du lowered his gaze, his vision filled with the hideous wounds across his chest and the twisted, broken joints of his fingers.
He had wanted so badly to satisfy her, yet in the end, what he revealed before Xie Jingci was nothing but this wretched, battered state.
"What’s wrong? Does your hand hurt?"
Xie Jingci had no way of knowing his thoughts. Seeing Pei Du lost in a daze, she assumed he was in too much pain to continue and leaned forward obligingly. "Don’t move."
Though she had lived a chaste life since childhood, she had at least witnessed countless trials in the minor realms. Even faced with a man’s bare torso, she didn’t feel particularly flustered. With a lift of her right hand, the bloodstained white robe slid from his shoulders.
A biting gust of wind surged in from outside the cave, and Pei Du shivered violently from the cold.
Cultivators channeled spiritual energy into their bodies, granting them the ability to regulate their temperature, staying warm in winter and cool in summer.
Pei Du had come to the Ghost Tomb wearing only a thin white robe. Now that his cultivation was shattered, he felt the chill seep into his bones, unbearable and piercing. Without the barrier of clothing, the winter wind cut into his flesh like tiny blades.
Yet the sensation lasted only a moment.
A wave of warmth, intangible yet palpable, flowed from Xie Jingci’s palm, wrapping around him like a gentle stream.
Holding a jar of jade dew ointment and a cotton cloth, she asked casually, "Shall I begin?"
Pei Du responded with a hoarse "Mm."
With the robe removed, his wounds were laid bare.
Pei Du had endured the demonic tide with sheer willpower, leaving his chest and back covered in deep, jagged gashes. As for the palm strike from Pei Fengnan, it had left a bruise of dark purple on his abdomen, likely damaging his internal organs.
Xie Jingci studied them carefully, her gaze as tangible as a physical touch, lingering on the gruesome lacerations across his chest.
Unwilling to look closely himself, Pei Du averted his eyes in silence.
Xie Jingci’s cultivation had also suffered, leaving her capable of only the most basic cleansing spell. Though much of the blood and grime had been removed, traces remained, so she took the cotton cloth and wiped away the dried blood.
Through the soft fabric, he could feel the outline of her fingertips.
A foreign yet soothing sensation traveled downward from his neck, gradually moving toward his abdomen. His heart pounded at an unprecedented speed, as if threatening to burst from his chest.
Afraid she might notice, Pei Du clumsily spoke up, hoping to divert her attention. "Miss Xie, thank you for your help."
After a pause, he finally voiced the question that had long troubled him: "Why did you help me?"
"Me?"
Xie Jingci glanced up, meeting his eyes briefly before looking down again. "I just felt like it."
If asked why she had saved Pei Du, even she couldn’t quite explain.
Perhaps it was because she couldn’t stand the underhanded tactics of the Pei family. Perhaps it was a whim. Or perhaps—it was simply because she wanted to save him.
Among all their peers, Pei Du was one of the few who could earn her genuine admiration as an opponent. No matter how she looked at it, in Xie Jingci’s eyes, he was different from the rest.
Whether it was impulsiveness or sheer willfulness, she did as she pleased, and no one could stop her.
[I’d say, with this young master’s face and build, he definitely outshines all the male leads in those minor realms.]
The system smacked its lips, asking eagerly: [So, what do you think? Any thoughts?]
Xie Jingci gave an objective assessment. "Indeed, he’s lean but not scrawny. His exceptional swordsmanship is inseparable from this physique."
The system: "…"
It didn’t know whether to complain about "lean but not scrawny" or "exceptional swordsmanship," so it resignedly chose to shut up.
Once the preliminary cleaning was done, it was time to apply the ointment.
Unlike before, there was no cotton cloth as a buffer now—her fingers, coated in jade dew ointment, would press directly against his wounds.
Xie Jingci had never done this before, terrified of accidentally worsening Pei Du’s injuries. When her fingertip grazed a claw mark on his chest, she glanced up and asked, "Does this hurt?"
As she spoke, her finger remained still, resting against his chest. Skin against skin, she could feel the frantic pounding of his heart.
Pei Du’s neck was entirely flushed. When Xie Jingci lifted her gaze, she caught sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing.
He seemed to embarrass easily.
She had distinctly heard that when rejecting advances from other female cultivators, he was as cold and indifferent as ice.
Pei Du: "…It doesn’t hurt."
Even so, Xie Jingci lightened her touch.
Only when she was wholly focused on applying the ointment did Pei Du finally dare to lower his eyes and steal glances at her.
Over the years, whenever the two of them were in the same place, he would use the corner of his vision to secretly watch her through the crowd, withdrawing his gaze the moment she turned toward him.
If Miss Xie ever found out, she would surely be furious.
She had been bedridden for a year, her skin pale from days without sunlight. When she lowered her head, her long lashes veiled her gaze, lending her an unprecedented quiet obedience.
Warm spiritual energy enveloped her body, and soft fingertips traced the jagged scars with meticulous care. Miss Xie Jingci might have seemed carefree on the surface, but in truth, she was gentler and more patient than anyone.
Pei Du watched, entranced, failing to notice when Xie Jingci pressed down to remove a small stone embedded in his wound.
A piercing agony shot through his shattered organs, leaving him momentarily dazed. A pained gasp escaped him before he could suppress it—a low, stifled sound, its trembling exhale dissolving into a soft breath.
Xie Jingci glanced up at the noise and was met with his face, now burning crimson, and his wide, unblinking stare.
Like a bewildered stuffed teddy bear.
She nearly teased him, but seeing his genuine embarrassment, she schooled her expression and changed the subject. "You shouldn’t move around. Rest here for now."
Pei Du stiffened, too overwhelmed to even nod.
Every wound screamed in torment, and he had fought to keep even a single whimper from escaping in front of Xie Jingci. Yet not only had he failed, but she had also heard…
That strange, mortifying sound.
Just remembering it made his head burn with humiliation.
"Your injuries are severe, but not beyond saving," she reassured him. "With proper care, you’ll recover."
Her fingers trailed down to his abdomen, brushing over firm, well-defined muscle. Unconsciously curious, she pressed lightly—only to find it unyielding, unlike the softness elsewhere.
Pei Du averted his gaze, silently reciting a mantra to calm his mind.
His wounds were complex, concentrated mostly on his chest and back, and treating them took considerable time.
According to Xie Jingci, the Jade Dew Ointment was a rare and potent salve. Within three hours, most of his injuries would scab over and heal.
"Stay here and rest. I’ll scout the area. If you wake up and don’t see me, don’t panic."
Relieved to have finished the task, she helped Pei Du into his robes before retrieving a stack of talismans from her pouch, securing them beneath a rock beside him. "These are messenger talismans. If anything happens, send one to me—no need to write anything."
Under normal circumstances, Pei Du would never have let her venture out alone. But in his current state, he’d only be a burden.
A dull frustration simmered in his chest, but he suppressed it and murmured, "Be careful."
Xie Jingci bid him a breezy farewell and turned to leave—only to pause at the cave entrance and double back.
"Almost forgot—"
She swiftly pulled out a thick, snow-white cloak from her pouch and draped it over Pei Du. The plush fur tickled his skin, and her laughter drifted to his ears. "This is all I have, but it’ll keep you warm."
She had infused the cloak with warmed spiritual energy, and now it cocooned him in cozy warmth, carrying a faint, familiar scent of sandalwood.
Pei Du instinctively clutched the collar. "Thank you."
His complexion was pale, his lips nearly colorless—a face meant to be cool and aloof. But now, wrapped in the cloak, his dark hair disheveled and eyes clear, he looked unexpectedly docile.
Enough to make someone want to pinch his cheeks.
The thought flickered through Xie Jingci’s mind, and with a playful glint in her eyes, she waved goodbye. Only after her figure vanished did the young man in the cave stir slightly.
His wounds still throbbed, but Pei Du carefully tightened the cloak around himself, burying his nose in the soft fur.
Perhaps… Miss Xie didn’t despise him as much as he’d thought.
His right hand slipped free of the cloak, fingers curling tightly around the fabric as if embracing it.
Only pain could convince him this wasn’t a dream.
In the quiet night, the young swordsman curled into a ball, his long lashes lowering as he smiled soundlessly, bathed in the cloak’s faint fragrance.
The Ghost Realm was blanketed in snow, the blizzard so thick it resembled a white mist under the moonlight—like a river cascading from the heavens.
Above, the sky was a murky gray; ahead, plum branches stretched in every direction, their icicles hanging like the jagged fangs of a beast.
For Xie Jingci, entering the Ghost Realm wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
Someone she longed to see resided here… though she had no idea where.
Unlike the outside world, the Ghost Realm had no defined nations or territories. Powerful cultivators ruled their own domains, and though order varied, one universal truth held sway: strength reigned supreme.
Unfortunately, Xie Jingci was far from strong at the moment.
She trudged through the snow alone, channeling a trickle of spiritual energy into her recently healed meridians, her brow furrowing in frustration.
The crippling injuries she’d sustained before her year-long coma had left her body frail. Worse, her consciousness had wandered through countless worlds, inhabiting different forms—only to return to this one, now feeling foreign and unwieldy.
Before her coma, both she and Pei Du had been at the Golden Core stage. Now, at best, they barely reached Foundation Establishment.
A headache.
As she walked, the plum trees gradually thinned, revealing a lone house standing amidst the endless snow.
The cave she and Pei Du had taken shelter in must have been in some forgotten corner of the wilderness. But as she descended the mountain, the outline of a town grew clearer.
The Ghost Realm had been sealed off for years, its architecture old-fashioned—white walls and black tiles—lacking in grandeur but brimming with life, its countless lanterns glowing like fireflies.
They couldn’t stay in that cave forever, especially not with Pei Du’s condition. They needed an inn, and fast. If luck was on her side, she might even find clues about the person she sought.
Wait.
Xie Jingci froze, struck by a dire realization.
As the saying went, money made the world go round. The Xie family was wealthy, but she hadn’t expected to end up in the Ghost Realm—she’d only brought piles of spirit stones. The local currency, however…
Wasn’t spirit stones. It was called "Demon Crystals."
Damn it.
Her once-substantial fortune had just turned into worthless scraps.
The harsh truth hit like a thunderbolt, leaving her truly feeling the chill of life’s second winter.
Demon Crystals weren’t used outside the Ghost Realm. She’d only seen a few as collector’s items—dark red, angular, their interiors murky and—
Her thoughts stuttered as she glanced down.
There, at her feet on the deserted street, lay a small, dark red stone.
No way.
…A Demon Crystal?
Xie Jingci bent down to pick it up, and as she raised her head, she spotted another one not far away.
The street was blanketed in thick snow, and against the silent, cold whiteness, the red magic crystal stood out vividly. By the time she stood up, she realized the scattered crystals formed a trail leading into a narrow alley.
Either someone had dropped their money pouch, or this was a clumsy trap—lure the prey in, then ambush and rob them.
Xie Jingci felt a spark of amusement and followed the trail into the alley.
If it was the former, she could kindly return it. If it was the latter, she could turn the tables on the would-be thieves and relieve them of their ill-gotten gains—
Anyone who used such a crude trick was likely just a petty street thug, no more threatening than a tutorial-level mob. Xie Jingci wasn’t the least bit worried.
Morality? What was that? Women like her had no hearts to begin with.
She was fully prepared, but when she stepped into the alley, she still froze in surprise.
There was no hapless victim with a torn money pouch, nor any fierce-looking bandits. The only person in the alley was a young man dressed in head-to-toe black, sitting cross-legged as he counted coins from a tattered burlap sack.
Xie Jingci stared at him blankly.
He gaped back at the female cultivator who had suddenly appeared.
The silence was thick with awkwardness. Before Xie Jingci could speak, rapid footsteps echoed behind her, followed by a booming, indignant shout:
“Found them! The thieves are here—two of them, splitting the loot!”
Xie Jingci looked down at the magic crystal in her hand.
Thieves?! How dare they slander her like this! A cultivator’s “borrowing” didn’t even count as stealing—
Wait, no—she hadn’t stolen anything!
But with the crystal in her hand and standing right beside the actual thief, she’d have a hard time proving her innocence.
What else could Xie Jingci do? Of the thirty-six stratagems, fleeing was the best option.
She was new here and didn’t want trouble. Meeting the bewildered gaze of the thief in black, she channeled her spiritual energy and bolted.
Her cultivation level far surpassed that of ordinary cultivators, leaving her pursuers in the dust before they could even think of catching up.
Having played the villain enough times, Xie Jingci knew the best way to shake off pursuers was to disappear into a crowd.
She wasn’t familiar with the Ghost Domain, so she wandered aimlessly until she spotted a packed shop and ducked inside without hesitation.
Most of the town had been eerily quiet earlier, and Xie Jingci had wondered why. Now it seemed the entire population had gathered here.
Curious, she squeezed forward through the crowd. Amidst the waves of cheers, she caught sight of a full-length circular mirror.
The mirror’s surface played out a scene like a projected film—towering emerald mountains piercing the clouds, with two figures clashing swords at the summit, their blades gleaming like rival suns.
Someone nearby asked, “Watching these two top-ranked experts duel today has been exhilarating—who did you bet on?”
Others chimed in:
“Qin Jue’s movements are too unpredictable. Mo Xiaoyang’s straightforward swordplay won’t land a hit.”
“No way! Did you see Mo Xiaoyang’s sword energy? Nothing can dodge that—you’d have to block it head-on.”
“Didn’t Mo Xiaoyang take a hit earlier? Qin Jue’s got this!”
“Wait, wait—what’s Mo Xiaoyang doing now? Qin Jue’s down?!”
Amid the clamor of voices, Xie Jingci watched the mirror and raised an eyebrow.
Ah, so that’s what this was.
Of course. The only thing that could draw such a crowd, even in the dead of night, was this.
In this era of flourishing spiritual energy, sects and schools competed fiercely, and strength reigned supreme.
The age of scholars had passed. What the world chased now was the pinnacle of immortal and martial arts.
She was no stranger to the mirror before her.
Cultivators loved a good fight, and while low-level bouts were manageable, when high-level experts clashed, a single move could flatten half a mountain.
The more spectacular the fight, the more devastating the aftermath—repair costs could bankrupt even the wealthiest sects.
To avoid such disasters, the Xuanwu Mirror was created.
The “Xuanwu Mirror” extracted the combatants’ spiritual consciousness and projected their duel into a secret realm. Spectators could watch the battle unfold on the mirror’s surface.
Xie Jingci was a regular in the Xuanwu Mirror, and—not to brag—her win record wasn’t half bad.
“I heard that outside the Ghost Domain, the cultivation world has ranking lists based on Xuanwu Mirror battles. I wonder how those top fighters would fare against our Ghost Domain’s best.”
“Isn’t the Ghost Gate about to open? Maybe we’ll get to see.”
“Who cares about the Ghost Gate right now—look, Mo Xiaoyang won! What’s the prize? Ten thousand magic crystals?! That’s insane!”
The deafening cheers nearly blew the roof off. Xie Jingci, disliking the noise, took a step back, her mind fixated on four words:
Ten thousand magic crystals.
“Sister.”
Under the cold moonlight, the girl in an elegant feathered dress turned her head and smiled sweetly at the unfamiliar demon woman beside her.
Her delicate features and crisp voice starkly contrasted the bloody scene reflected in the mirror. “Can you make money from this?”
Meanwhile, at the Wucheng Surveillance Bureau.
The thief who had broken into the Jin residence had finally been caught, but the case wasn’t over yet—interrogation was inevitable.
“Stop lying. Just confess—it’ll be easier for everyone.”
The bound man on the ground was bruised and battered. A tall demonic cultivator sighed, his expression weary. “No matter how deep your bond with that woman is, your life is more important.”
A thin woman chimed in, shaking her head. “Breaking into the Jin residence to steal—the Ghost Domain isn’t lawless. Justice must be served. I know you and that woman are close, but think about your own safety! Fu—what was your name again?”
She glanced at the confession in her hand and read the name at the top. “Ah, Fu Nanxing.”
“I’ve said it eight hundred times—I don’t know that woman!”
Fu Nanxing was fuming. “She just popped out of nowhere and ran off like a madwoman—I’m innocent! Where’s the justice in this? This is a setup!”
When the Jin family’s guards arrived, that woman had bolted faster than he could blink. He’d been so shocked his eyeballs nearly popped out—he was just as confused as they were!
The two interrogators stared at him like he was a ghost, their expressions screaming, “Keep digging that hole, buddy.”
He was utterly devastated.
This world might as well end right now.
"Even after being beaten like this, you still refuse to betray your principles. In all my years at the Surveillance Bureau, I’ve never met someone so fiercely loyal and righteous."
The woman tilted her head, blinking back what seemed to be the glimmer of tears. "I understand now. You stole because your grandmother is gravely ill, right? Or perhaps your younger siblings can’t afford school? You wouldn’t steal without reason—there must be some hardship behind it, isn’t that so?"
Fu Nanxing lay motionless, like a dead fish flopped on the ground.
He began earnestly contemplating philosophy and the meaning of life.
"I always prided myself on my resilience, but meeting you has shown me how far I still fall short in virtue."
The man suddenly slammed the interrogation table, teeth gritted. "Why won’t you just talk? Fine… If you did, you wouldn’t be you anymore. I respect you—a true man among men!"
A tear slid from the corner of Fu Nanxing’s eye. Resembling a thoroughly wrecked ragdoll, he repeated his line for what felt like the hundredth time: "I don’t know, I don’t know, I really don’t know."
—He wanted to speak! But what could he say? That his eyeballs had nearly popped out from sheer shock at that woman’s agility?!
The man’s brows furrowed, his eyes faintly reddening. "Nanxing, I’ve never met anyone as stubbornly devoted as you. Since fate has brought us together today, why not swear brotherhood here and now? We may share neither father nor mother, but from this day forth, we’ll be brothers. As for your grandmother and siblings’ troubles… I can help."
—Why are you suddenly accepting this fabricated backstory?! Are all you demonic cultivators insane?! Stop forcing tragic narratives onto people!
"I have just one question."
Fu Nanxing’s face twisted in agony as he forced out the words: "I’m fast. My movements were undetectable. How did you catch me?"
The man and woman exchanged a glance before the woman spoke first. "It’s snowing, yet you wore black nightclothes… That was intentional, wasn’t it? All part of your plan to let that girl escape. Oh, you fool… you dear, selfless fool."
"Brother Nanxing, only two kinds of people would run around in black during snowfall: those with a death wish, and absolute idiots. We all know which one you are—and I salute you for it."
Body and dignity thoroughly crushed, Fu Nanxing wept like a heartbroken maiden.
You’re the idiot. Your whole family’s idiots.
"Brother, duty calls. We’ll have to keep beating you—just endure it a little longer. Wipe your tears; don’t lose hope. At least you still have dreams."
The man’s consolation dripped with sincerity. "Think of it this way: while you suffer in prison, she’s safe and warm in her bed. Her happiness, her comfort—isn’t that worth every sacrifice? Chin up!"
Fu Nanxing: "…"
Fu Nanxing jolted upright as if resurrected from death’s door, fury nearly choking him. "DAMN IT!!!"
—He’d better never cross paths with that woman again!
