chapter 60

He whispered, "Now..."

Under the lamplight, Yue Qingluo was reading the ledger presented by the steward.

In two days, it would be the Han Brewing Festival—an important occasion for the people of the Spiritual Domain.

Zhan Yunwei sat beside her, explaining the parts she did not understand.

Yue Qingluo listened intently.

Zhan Yunwei noticed that she was actually resilient and intelligent. Once Yue Qingluo closed the book, she pulled out a clean sheet of rice paper from the desk drawer.

Zhan Yunwei saw her writing on the paper:

"Weiwei, can you take me away from the Yue residence?"

Zhan Yunwei couldn't help but read it several times before realizing she had not misread it.

The mute girl was truly asking if she could take her away.

Yue Qingluo gripped the brush tightly. She had thought this through carefully, even though it was a question she had never dared to consider in the past.

Since she had been old enough to understand the world, she had lived in the dark underground palace. Later, she fled with Yue Zhiheng from Du'e City to Qiyang County. After turning eight, she had never stepped outside the residence.

Recently, Yue Qingluo had been reading books. The pages described bustling cities and vast mountains and rivers—things she had never seen, things she could barely even imagine. Yet, she couldn't help but yearn for them.

But that was not the reason she wanted to leave.

Zhan Yunwei asked, "Are you worried about Lord Yue?"

Yue Qingluo nodded.

In the past, she had never studied books. She had lived each day as it came, knowing that Yue Zhiheng had to find new medicinal catalysts for himself, knowing that he did things the people considered wicked—but she never fully understood.

Recently, Yue Zhiheng had been reprimanded by the Spirit Emperor. The Yue family was walking on thin ice. Once-loyal ministers who used to flatter the Yue family now wore different faces. All of this left Yue Qingluo deeply uneasy.

She read historical records and learned of Dongfang Jibai's fate. She did not want Yue Zhiheng to end up the same way.

She couldn't help but wonder—if she left, would A-Heng finally be free?

Zhan Yunwei had also considered this before, but without first finding the Buddhist Garment of Jialan, she dared not let Yue Qingluo take such a risk.

Yue Qingluo shook her head: I have already lived long enough—luckier than many children born of malevolent bloodlines. Even if I only have a year left after leaving the Yue residence, it would be better than staying here.

She held Zhan Yunwei's hand: I can't leave on my own. A-Heng won't let me go. There are so few people who truly want him to survive—I know why you came back.

Yue Qingluo smiled slightly: I'll help you, Weiwei.

The two locked eyes under the lamplight for a long time. Seeing Yue Qingluo's unwavering determination, Zhan Yunwei finally nodded.

What moved her was not Yue Qingluo's words, but the mute girl's fate in her past life.

In that life, after Yue Zhiheng went to Du'e City, the imperial court took the mute girl away.

From that day on, Zhan Yunwei never saw her again.

Neither Yue Zhiheng nor Pei Yujing had obtained the Master Execution Token. Both suffered the torment of a hundred insect bites to the heart, and the Spirit Emperor had begun to suspect Yue Zhiheng's loyalty. Yue Qingluo was imprisoned by the court, never to return to the Yue residence.

She died in the second year after Zhan Yunwei arrived at the Yue residence.

By then, Zhan Yunwei's relationship with Yue Zhiheng had deteriorated beyond repair. She only remembered that for a time, Yue Zhiheng was particularly cold.

The once composed and ruthless Grand Minister of the court got drunk for the first time in his life and had to be escorted back by Fang Huai's men.

For so long, he had never harmed her. Though Zhan Yunwei's hatred for him had lessened over time, she still did not like him.

She had been about to shove the drunken Yue Zhiheng onto the floor to sleep, but unexpectedly, he suddenly grabbed her hand.

Startled, she thought she had been caught playing a trick on him. But when she looked down, she met his gaze.

She had never seen him like this before.

Calm. Numb. It was not exactly sorrow, but it made her furrow her brows involuntarily.

"Ah-Jie is dead."

Zhan Yunwei was stunned. It had been a long time since she last saw the pitiful mute girl. For a moment, she even forgot to pull her hand away from Yue Zhiheng's grasp.

After a while, Yue Zhiheng regained his senses first. Coldly, he let go of her hand and turned his back to her.

That night, neither of them spoke. Zhan Yunwei did not go out of her way to make things difficult for him, nor did she offer any comfort.

But Yue Zhiheng did not seem to need anyone's comfort.

The next day, he returned to being the cold-hearted Grand Minister he had always been—perhaps even more ruthless than before. The Spirit Emperor gradually regained trust in him, and under his command, the Immortal Sect was utterly crushed.

The mute girl had never been a significant presence in the Yue residence. By early summer, even the household servants had forgotten about her.

One day, as Zhan Yunwei passed by Yue Zhiheng's study, she overheard a conversation between him and the steward.

The steward asked what should be done with the mute girl's empty courtyard.

Yue Zhiheng's voice was calm: "The residence still lacks a pond."

In mid-May, through the window, Zhan Yunwei saw his cold, indifferent eyes once again.

For the second time, she witnessed the iron-hard heart of this man.

After the mute girl's death, Yue Zhiheng seemed to have no weaknesses left. He no longer hesitated in his actions, and the Immortal Sect was reduced to nothing but a pack of stray dogs in his hands.

It was the most miserable era for the Immortal Sect.

Many years later, when Zhan Yunwei visited Yulou Pavilion, even young children would cry upon hearing Yue Zhiheng's name.

The mute girl's cause of death in the imperial court remained unknown, shrouded in speculation.

This time, Zhan Yunwei wanted to save Yue Qingluo.

She wanted to save the poor girl who had once given her warmth, the one who had never even seen the mountains and rivers with her own eyes.

Zhan Yunwei did not want Yue Qingluo to walk the same path as before, nor did she wish to see the ruthless, formidable Yue Zhiheng that would emerge afterward.

To change the mute girl's fate, the best option was to help her escape the Yue residence before Yue Zhiheng left for Du'e City.

The mute girl sighed in relief upon seeing Zhan Yunwei nod. Instead, she comforted her:

"You always asked me if I wanted to see the outside world. I was afraid, but I still longed for it. My medicine can last me another year—enough to see many places."

Zhan Yunwei said, "Qingluo, I will find the medicinal catalyst for you. I have already tracked down the whereabouts of the Buddhist Garment of Jialan."

Yue Qingluo wrote on the paper: "It doesn't matter, Weiwei. I'm only worried about how we can leave without making the Ling Emperor suspicious of Ah Heng and putting him in danger."

After all, as Yue Zhiheng's greatest weakness, her sudden departure would surely make the Ling Emperor wary of him.

Zhan Yunwei pondered for a moment before saying, "I have a senior brother who can craft human puppets. When the time comes, I can control the puppet's 'death,' and you can use that chance to escape unnoticed."

In the past, this method would have been unthinkable, but now that spirit-control techniques could manipulate lifeless objects, it had become a viable plan.

"Qingluo-jie, you've changed a lot."

Yue Qingluo smiled, a little embarrassed, but her gaze was steady now. "Thank you for the jade slip you left me."

Even if her life would be short, she didn't want to spend it trapped in this courtyard forever, nor did she want to be a burden that dragged Yue Zhiheng down into the world's eyes as a treacherous minister.

Deep inside, she also hoped that after she left, Yue Zhiheng would no longer be held back and would be willing to break free from the imperial court with the Yue family.

Yue Qingluo wrote: "Weiwei, if possible, don't give up on Ah Heng either. He wasn't always like this. Ten years ago, when he first used the jade token to learn to read, I knew he wanted to be a good person."

Zhan Yunwei was momentarily stunned. Her gaze lingered on the words "be a good person" before she softly said, "I promise you."

The two girls lay side by side on the bed, sharing a secret between them.

Yue Qingluo's bed wasn't as warm as the immortal jade beds, yet Zhan Yunwei still felt warmth in her heart.

This time, she had originally returned to investigate from Miss Qu, but she hadn't expected Yue Qingluo to make her decision first.

Zhan Yunwei understood—Yue Qingluo didn't just want to help Yue Zhiheng; she wanted to help her as well.

The world said that children of the corrupted carried the filthiest blood, yet from Yue Qingluo, she saw a heart that was bright and gentle.

As winter set in, more and more corrupted citizens froze to death.

Yue Zhiheng hadn't been particularly busy these past few days, but Fang Huai ran into trouble while repairing the boundary.

Fang Huai's fiancée, Ye Yandie, had been promised to a young marquis of the imperial court.

It was a decision made by the Ye family, and Ye Yandie did not object. She merely told Fang Huai not to seek her out again.

Fang Huai had always believed their love was mutual, only to be hit with a harsh reality.

For the first time in his life, he faced such a devastating blow—his weakening family formation, the dwindling faith of his aging elders, the mockery from his colleagues, the loss of the emperor's favor, and the fiancée who had abandoned him.

Everything weighed on him like a mountain.

His once-prized intelligence and wit were now utterly useless.

Distraught, Fang Huai not only failed to repair the boundary's cracks but also let several corrupted creatures escape.

A dark aura spread across the border.

Upon receiving the news, Yue Zhiheng immediately set out with Chen Ye, not even having time to bid farewell to Zhan Yunwei.

It took them two days to slay the corrupted beings that had escaped from Duer City and to cleanse the area.

Fang Huai, looking utterly defeated, said, "Thank you, Brother Yue."

Yue Zhiheng replied, "There's no need. I owe the Fang family as well."

"I will pull myself together. This won't happen again."

"It's good that you've come to terms with it."

Fang Huai gave a bitter smile. "Now I finally understand—true mutual love is rare. More often than not, it's just one-sided wishful thinking. Lifelong companionship is even harder to come by. I'll do my best to forget about it. My grandfather's health is failing, and I must shoulder the responsibility of the Fang family."

Yue Zhiheng remained silent.

Today was the Cold Brew Festival.

Fang Huai had wanted to share a drink with Yue Zhiheng, but just then, a summons arrived—an imperial decree from the Ling Emperor.

The two exchanged glances, and Fang Huai frowned, unable to suppress his unease.

For the Ling Emperor to summon Yue Zhiheng at this particular time could not be a good sign. The empire was already in turmoil, and the Ling Emperor had been in seclusion for a long time. His sudden emergence felt unnatural.

Yue Zhiheng simply said, "It's fine. Let's see what His Majesty wants."

He turned to Chen Ye and instructed, "Send word back to the estate—there's no need to wait for me tonight."

Following the palace attendant, Yue Zhiheng entered the imperial palace.

By now, it was well past noon. He had expected to be taken to the main hall, but the attendant bowed deeply and said, "Master Yue, please follow me to His Majesty's sleeping quarters."

Yue Zhiheng's gaze turned cold.

The Ling Emperor had been on the throne for nearly fifty years, forty of which had been spent in seclusion. His pursuit of breaking through the eleventh spiritual meridian was no secret. Most of the time, he only appeared in an astral form, with a fragment of his soul.

Even after serving as the Chief Minister of the Celestial Court for six years, Yue Zhiheng had never seen the Ling Emperor's true body.

Even when the emperor's heart demons raged, requiring Yue Zhiheng's ice lotus blood to suppress them, it was only his spiritual projection—never his true self.

The palace attendant withdrew once they arrived.

Yue Zhiheng stepped into the hall and respectfully saluted, "Your Majesty."

Silk drapes billowed in the cold wind.

Inside the emperor's chamber, it was even colder than outside. There was no brazier to warm the air, and the room exuded an imposing aura.

To his surprise, this time, beyond the veil, a figure was actually seated.

For the first time, the Ling Emperor had chosen to meet him in person.

This genius emperor, rumored to possess ten spiritual meridians, sat upon his throne, gazing coldly at Yue Zhiheng.

A strange scent filled the air—a mix of sandalwood and decay.

There was no fluctuation of spiritual energy in the room, which made Yue Zhiheng's heart sink.

Even when the emperor had only been a soul projection, Yue Zhiheng had always felt his overwhelming presence.

But now, standing before the emperor's real body, he felt nothing at all.

Even a single spiritual meridian should create an immeasurable gap in power.

If he could sense absolutely nothing… there was only one explanation—the Ling Emperor had already broken through the eleventh meridian.

The Ling Emperor chuckled. His voice, unexpectedly gentle, sent chills down Yue Zhiheng's spine.

"Minister Yue, do you still remember Dongfang Jibai?"

Outside the palace, Chen Ye waited until dusk before Yue Zhiheng finally emerged.

He had experienced something like this before and was afraid that Yue Zhiheng would be seriously injured again. However, the situation was not as bad as he had imagined. Yue Zhiheng did not seem to be injured, though his eyes were dark, darker even than the night sky outside.

Yue Zhiheng said, "Let's go."

Today was the Han Niang Festival, a day meant for warming wine and dining with family. The officials of Chetian Bureau had long since left work. Yue Zhiheng took the cloak from Chen Ye's hands and draped it over his shoulders, then instructed him to return home as well.

By the time he arrived at the Yue residence, night had already fallen. Snow was drifting down from the sky, and two lanterns flickered unsteadily at the entrance of the mansion. Yue Zhiheng paused for a moment, looking at them before heading not to Yue Qingluo's courtyard but instead to the Artifact Pavilion.

Old Master Yue had already heard about his summons. He gazed at the ever-burning lamp in front of him and allowed Yue Zhiheng to enter.

"You met the Emperor in person?"

"Yes."

The old man lifted his head to look at him.

His nominal grandson stood before him, his expression cold and solemn, his broad shoulders dusted with snow. The old master was old now, his crippled legs making him appear frail and withered. But the young man before him was tall, handsome, and far more exceptional than either he or his own son had been in their prime.

The old master knew that Yue Zhiheng would not have sought him out unless something serious had happened. He had also heard about the trouble Fang Huai had caused.

When he had chosen Yue Zhiheng all those years ago, he had never expected him to come this far. He had outshone the heirs of other noble families by a wide margin, and he was far more composed and reliable than anyone had anticipated.

After a moment of silence, the old master asked, "Has the situation changed?"

"Yes." Yue Zhiheng's voice was cold. He closed his eyes briefly and then said, "The Emperor's cultivation is no longer at the tenth spiritual vein level. Either he has broken through to the eleventh, or…"

He did not finish his sentence, but the old master understood the implication, and a chill ran down his spine.

Ancient records stated that reaching the twelfth spiritual vein would allow one to ascend to godhood.

Yue Zhiheng was implying that the Emperor was not far from that—perhaps only a step away. If he truly ascended, would there be anyone in the world capable of stopping him?

Yue Zhiheng's gaze shifted to the ever-burning lamp in the room, then beyond, to another, smaller flickering light in the distance.

The old master followed his gaze. The smaller lamp had been lit ten years ago when Yue Zhiheng was sixteen. It was part of their bargain.

Back then, he had told that bloodied boy, "If the lamp goes out, the person dies—there will be no reincarnation."

The boy had crawled out of the spirit pool, soaked in blood, and had let out a muffled laugh, uncaring. "Fine. But I want to light one more."

And so, for ten years, those two lamps had burned, accompanying the old man through the years.

Outside the window, the snow was not heavy, casting scattered shadows in the dim light. The old master understood the weight of this terrible news.

Yue Zhiheng had always seemed indifferent to whether he lived or died, but over the years, he had conserved his lotus-marked lifeblood—he wanted to survive.

An Emperor at the eleventh spiritual vein already made his chances of survival slim. If the Emperor had nearly reached the twelfth, then Yue Zhiheng had no hope at all. The Yue family would be doomed as well.

"The Zhu Sha Lu that Dongfang Jibai took all those years ago has appeared in Duer City," Yue Zhiheng said, withdrawing his gaze. "The Emperor has ordered me to retrieve it."

Few people knew that Dongfang Jibai's downfall had not been due to his arrogance alone, but because he had seized the Zhu Sha Lu.

There was no worse news than the Emperor reaching the twelfth vein, so the old master remained relatively calm. He asked, "When do you leave?"

"In two days."

"I can send her away for you."

"No need." Yue Zhiheng lifted his eyes, his voice steady. "I'll do it myself."

The old master shook his head. "You may be able to send her away, but you won't be able to make her give up. She has long suspected the Yue family's motives. You weren't here these past two days—do you know what she did?"

Yue Zhiheng remained silent.

The old man chuckled, somewhat helplessly. "She sneaked out of the residence to investigate Qu Lan Yue. If I hadn't sent word in advance, Qu Lan Yue might have exposed something. A Spirit Master—she's quite remarkable."

If not for the tracking of his artifact spirit, Zhan Yunwei might have noticed.

"Young people are impressive these days," the old master sighed. "If you can't let her go, she will keep investigating, and she will come back."

After a long silence, Yue Zhiheng finally said, "She won't. I won't let her return."

He stepped into the wind and snow. "The next time we meet, she will only see me as an enemy."

If it had been before, the old master would not have believed him. But today, he did.

If Zhan Yunwei stayed, she would die at the Emperor's hands. And Yue Zhiheng cared about her life more than anyone else.

For ten years, everything Yue Zhiheng had steeled his heart to do—he had succeeded.

Snow fell gently, but the pavilion in the Yue residence was lively and warm.

Charcoal braziers burned on all sides, wine was being warmed on the table, and the plum blossoms in the courtyard bloomed under the lantern light, creating a picturesque scene.

Yue Wujiao was already drunk, slumped over the table, muttering, "I will become the greatest sword immortal in the future."

Yue Huaile propped her chin in her hands, nearly unconscious as well. She slurred mockingly, "Brother, you have a long way to go."

The mute girl sat quietly to the side, smiling softly. This was her first Han Niang Festival spent with her younger siblings.

The steward had delivered plenty of fine wine, and without the old master present, the young ones—who were still of tender age—were thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Everyone had drunk quite a bit, and Yue Wujiao had nearly spilled all his childhood embarrassments.

Even Zhan Yunwei, propping her chin up with her hand, had a dazed, distant look in her eyes.

Only the mute girl remained sitting upright.

— Her constitution was special, so she wouldn't get drunk.

Yue Qingluo gently adjusted the cloak on Zhan Yunwei, who had her head resting on her arm, and was just beginning to worry about how to carry these drunken people back when she saw someone approaching from a distance, walking toward them beneath the plum tree.

Yue Zhiheng glanced at the few who were drunk and unconscious, his gaze finally settling on Zhan Yunwei.

It was the first time he had seen her so drunk.

Usually, she was vigilant at the Yue residence, but somehow, over time, she had entrusted more and more trust to them.

Yue Qingluo explained, "Wei Wei didn't drink so much at first. Everyone was waiting for you to return. But this year's Han Niang Festival wine is particularly good, very intoxicating."

Yue Zhiheng instructed someone to take Yue Huaile and Yue Wujiao away, then bent down to lift Zhan Yunwei into his arms.

Yue Qingluo wanted to follow, but Yue Zhiheng stopped her, saying, "Sister, I'll return her later."

Reluctantly, Yue Qingluo stopped in her tracks.

The moon was still hidden tonight, but the lights continued to shine through the plum trees, illuminating the path.

The Han Niang Festival wine was meant to warm the body, and Zhan Yunwei only felt a comforting warmth enveloping her. She was being carried, walking slowly through the falling snow and the scent of flowers.

Yue Zhiheng moved at a steady pace, so slow and steady that the moment she stirred, he could sense her waking up.

Zhan Yunwei had never had the chance to drink this much in either of her lifetimes, and though she had regained some awareness, she wasn't completely sober.

She mumbled, her words slurred, "Lord Yue, you're back."

He answered quietly, "Hmm. Did you wait for me for long?"

"No, not long." She rested her chin on his shoulder. "Eh, why is it so dark?"

Yue Zhiheng smiled faintly. "Because it's very late, Miss Zhan."

"Oh." She responded softly, then continued, "Lord Yue, the last time you carried me like this was many years ago."

"You remember wrong."

Zhan Yunwei slowly closed her eyes, but she had not remembered wrong. Many years ago, Yue Zhiheng had carried her beneath the moonlight, the two of them eyeing each other with disdain. He had coldly said, "Bear with it, I won't live long."

Looking back on it now, it was somewhat sad.

Yue Zhiheng felt her face against his, her voice growing softer. "Lord Yue, you must live longer in this life."

He kept his gaze forward, not responding. Snowflakes fell on them both, and in that moment, it felt as though they had grown old together.

Zhan Yunwei's voice became more faint, her words becoming unclear. "You... you should leave the dynasty, Lord Yue. There is no good outcome for staying."

Yue Zhiheng knew she was drunk, so he agreed to whatever she said.

"Alright."

She said, "I don't want to be your enemy."

He adjusted his arm to make her more comfortable, replying, "I know."

In her blurry state, she felt that he was unusually agreeable. Finally, her voice became a soft murmur: "I... I'm trying, I'm close to finding the medicine for Qingluo."

The words made Yue Zhiheng stop. He remembered the girl's bright eyes from that day in the Cold Pool Cave, and it felt as though it had happened just yesterday.

He finally understood what Zhan Yunwei had been doing all this time.

How much hardship had she endured to rush to the Yue residence before his birthday? It had been twelve years since their first meeting, twelve long years.

In all those years, Yue Zhiheng had never imagined that their lives would intersect in this way, but she had done far more than he had ever expected.

She closed her eyes, falling into a deep sleep. "Lord Yue, if three parts aren't enough, when will you..."

Yue Zhiheng closed his eyes and whispered softly, "Now."