chapter 75

When will I also complete the Dao Companion Mark?

The rain in Fenhe County finally stopped on the second day. When Yue Zhiheng woke up again, he had already been brought back to the Yue residence.

The outside world was still shrouded in gloom, making it impossible to tell what time it was.

The room was empty, with only the faint scent of incense lingering in the air. He was alone. His wounds had been treated, but the piercing injury in his leg still ached severely, rendering him unable to walk for the time being. The surroundings were silent.

Yue Zhiheng remained quiet for a long time before speaking.

"Shen Ye."

Shen Ye responded immediately, stepping inside. Seeing that Yue Zhiheng had woken up, he was pleasantly surprised.

"My lord, are you feeling any better?"

He helped Yue Zhiheng sit up. Yue Zhiheng's voice was hoarse.

"What time is it now?"

"Just past dawn. You've slept for two days."

"Go to my study. In a moment, I will write a letter—you are to deliver it to the palace."

Shen Ye wanted to persuade him to rest first, to not disregard his own body. But knowing Yue Zhiheng's cold and unyielding nature, and understanding the urgency of the Baisha Lu case, he knew his words would not get through. So, he could only reply in a low voice.

Shen Ye had originally thought that the first thing his lord would ask upon waking up was where the young mistress had gone. Yet, unexpectedly, Yue Zhiheng did not ask.

Yesterday, when Shen Ye found them, the young mistress was still in decent condition. But the master... he had been utterly miserable—covered in wounds, unconscious, his arms tightly wrapped around Zhan Yunwei's waist.

Since Zhan Yunwei also needed medical treatment, it was ultimately the old physician who ordered Shen Ye to pry Yue Zhiheng's hands apart.

Shen Ye still felt a bit guilty about that.

Yue Zhiheng sat in the room for a long time. The dim lighting cast drowsy shadows, but he remained indifferent, unwilling to rest—lest he fall into some absurd dream.

He had seen Zhan Yunwei return. He had seen the Fate Stone glow in the muddy water.

Even on his birthday, when Zhan Yunwei returned, it had been more about hoping he would leave the dynasty. Now, the mute girl was dead, Zhan Yunwei's soul was unstable, and she only recognized Pei Yujing.

He closed his eyes, his head aching unbearably, trying to focus on his next course of action.

Then, outside, came the sound of hurried footsteps.

At first, Yue Zhiheng assumed it was Shen Ye or the old physician, but the steps were light—familiar.

Beyond the door, the physician sternly instructed, "Drink your medicine properly. No nonsense."

A flustered, annoyed voice replied, "I know."

Yue Zhiheng lifted his gaze—just in time to meet the eyes of the approaching figure.

Spring had just begun. The wind outside carried a chill. She wore a lake-green jacket and skirt, holding a bowl of medicine in her hands. Her chestnut-colored eyes were bright, full of life.

Silently, Yue Zhiheng's hands clenched around the blanket.

The scene before him overlapped with a distant memory—when they had just married, and she had fed him a demon-puppet pill.

Just as deceiving, just as bewildering. Yue Zhiheng frowned slightly.

He remembered slaughtering over a hundred black-armored guards two days ago, along with dozens of array masters. Before dying, those array masters had desperately hurled every kind of formation under his feet.

The scent of incense in the air was too strong, making him feel as if he were still trapped inside one of those formations.

Only layers upon layers of illusions could make one lose their way.

Yet, the girl—real or illusion—had already stepped before him.

Zhan Yunwei's expression was even more joyful than Shen Ye's. She set down the medicine bowl, sat beside him, and lightly touched his forehead.

"Lord Yue, do you feel any particular discomfort?"

He should have moved away. But he did not. He only lifted his gaze and looked at her.

That soft, cool hand rested against his forehead. This illusion was too real.

She sighed softly. Worry tinged her voice.

"You're still a bit warm."

A fever was not a good sign for a cultivator.

It meant his spiritual body had been overly exhausted, his injuries too severe, beyond even his strong self-healing abilities.

"Come, let's drink the medicine first."

Her voice was gentle as she lifted the bowl, blowing on it lightly before bringing it to his lips.

Yue Zhiheng remained silent.

In his entire life, even when his arm had been broken, no one had ever coaxed him like a child, spooning medicine to his lips.

She seemed puzzled by his hesitation.

"What's wrong?"

After a pause, Yue Zhiheng finally, wordlessly, parted his lips and swallowed the medicine.

The bitterness filled his mouth. He was momentarily dazed—realizing that this was not an illusion.

Before he could react, something sweet was placed in his mouth.

"I told you the medicine was too bitter. The old physician insisted it had to be that way for better effect." She smiled. "Is it sweet?"

Yue Zhiheng lowered his gaze, chewing the candied fruit. After a long pause, the corners of his lips curved into a faint smile.

What had seemed like a dream became increasingly real.

The heavy incense masked the scent of blood on him but could not conceal the faint fragrance of ice lotus.

A window was left slightly open, allowing the spring wind to drift in. Outside, Shen Ye and the old physician's voices could be heard.

The old physician, bristling with irritation, scolded Shen Ye, accusing him of wanting their master dead. Shen Ye, face dark, argued back.

His body ached terribly, but the sweetness of the candied fruit lingered, blending with the bitterness of the medicine.

It was all real.

Zhan Yunwei was patient. She waited for him to finish, then fed him another spoonful.

She warmed the medicine with her spiritual energy so it wouldn't cool.

When she had leapt off the cloud boat to find Yue Zhiheng, her soul had already begun merging with her spiritual body. Perhaps because Qiu Yinong had not suppressed her soul, or perhaps because of her own worry and longing, she had fused faster than anyone before.

The night she returned, Yue Zhiheng had been covered in wounds. Not wanting to disturb his rest, she had obediently gone to the secluded courtyard where he had once recuperated.

Sleeping for two days in the howling wind, Zhan Yunwei finally realized something—

Back when they had first become Dao companions, Lord Yue had always been silently yielding to her.

The moment she had stepped into the room, she had noticed the odd look in his eyes. Seeing he still had a fever, she guessed—he must have thought he was dreaming.

After returning from the Book of Fates, Zhan Yunwei now understood Yue Zhiheng far better than he had ever imagined.Zhan Yunwei rarely had a mischievous thought, so she deliberately fed him in a soft and gentle voice. She had assumed that with Yue Zhiheng's temperament, he would never open his mouth even if beaten to death. But to her surprise, even though he believed this was all an illusion, he still drank the medicine.

Seeing the faint smile on his lips, she knew he was slowly coming around, and suddenly, she felt a bit embarrassed to continue.

Yet Yue Zhiheng made no move to stop her, so she simply carried on.

Both of them understood that drinking medicine this way only made it more bitter. But neither of them spoke, unwilling to break this rare moment of warmth.

After he finished the medicine, Zhan Yunwei finally explained why she had come back.

She told him everything that had happened in the Forbidden Grounds and what she had seen in the Book of Fate. Yue Zhiheng realized there was no need for him to explain anything—Zhan Yunwei already knew everything.

Coming back had been her choice.

She placed her soft hand in his palm. Yue Zhiheng's voice was hoarse as he asked, "Are you afraid?"

Afraid of failure? Afraid of what was to come?

But Zhan Yunwei did not answer. Instead, she asked, "If I say I want to be Lady Yue now, is it still too late?"

Yue Zhiheng's response was to tighten his grip around her hand.

"You don't have to be Lady Yue," he said. "If I make it back in the end, I'll go to Changyang Mountain and forge weapons for you all. Miss Zhan, would you be willing to offer me a place to stay?"

She nodded vigorously and gently embraced him. "Then I'll build you the biggest forging hall."

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Thank you, little mountain lord."

"What else did you see?" he asked.

Zhan Yunwei picked a few things to tell him, intentionally avoiding the events beneath Jiusi Ravine.

She had indeed seen how Yue Zhiheng had reached for her hand in the end. But the earlier part—when she had been with Senior Brother Pei at the bottom of the cliff—had also been seen clearly by Yue Zhiheng.

Cough. Best to leave that unmentioned.

However, there was one thing she could not avoid. She told him about how she and Pei Yujing had left on the cloud boat and how Pei Yujing had been tainted by demonic energy.

Only then did Yue Zhiheng's brows furrow.

Zhan Yunwei reassured him, "I'm fine. I just regret that the bracelet you gave me broke."

She took out the fragments and handed them to Yue Zhiheng with a look of pity. "Can it still be fixed?"

Yue Zhiheng replied, "Once I recover, I'll make you a new one."

Her heart instantly steadied, and she thought to herself: Then you'd better get well soon.

In just two days, the New Year's Eve would arrive.

As for Zhan Yunwei's return to the Yue residence, the old master seemed to understand something. He neither approved nor objected.

After Yue Zhiheng told her that Yue Qingluo's soul was in the artifact hall, Zhan Yunwei went there once.

This time, the old master didn't stop her. Perhaps he simply didn't want to. The younger generation had their own decisions to make, and it would only make him seem old-fashioned to interfere.

Looking at the faint wisp of spirit within the Longevity Lamp, Zhan Yunwei asked the old master, "Can Sister Qingluo come back to life?"

The old master replied, "There has been no precedent. Even if it's possible, it will take many years."

"Oh." Zhan Yunwei didn't press the heavy topic. Instead, she asked, "Will you have dinner with us on New Year's Eve?"

The old master glanced at her.

There was nothing left in the Yue family that was hidden from her. But the old master still felt uneasy. He knew Yue Zhiheng was not truly a descendant of the Yue family, and Yue Zhiheng himself had never sincerely called him 'Grandfather.' Yet after so many years, even if it had all begun as a transaction, the old master had still watched over them as they grew.

When facing Yue Zhiheng, he could still put on an air of authority and remain cold-faced. But when faced with this little girl from the Zhan family, he found himself unable to refuse.

Yue Zhiheng had just submitted his memorial to the court, and everyone knew he would be punished when he entered the palace.

As Zhan Yunwei walked out of the artifact hall with light steps, the old master couldn't help but offer some advice: "Tell him to bring more defensive artifacts and elixirs. In front of the Spirit Emperor, he should learn to show weakness. Don't let him end up unable to even stand on New Year's Eve."

Zhan Yunwei couldn't help but grin. "Got it, Grandfather."

After a long moment, even the old master let out a rare smile. He sighed inwardly, I only hope the Lord of Changyang Mountain won't hate me too much.

The next day was Yue Zhiheng's day to enter the palace.

Zhan Yunwei knew that without retrieving the Hundred Death Medallion and with the Crown Prince's faction perishing in Du'e City, Yue Zhiheng's fate would be no better than in his past life.

But she couldn't ask him not to go.

Only now did she fully understand how difficult and unavoidable this path was.

Yue Zhiheng's wounds were far from healed, yet the soul-wrenching agony he suffered in his past life still awaited him in this one. She tried not to let her emotions show. As Lord Yue changed into his official attire, she asked him, "What would you like for dinner tonight? I'll wait for you to come back and eat together."

Yue Zhiheng raised a hand, gently brushing through her hair with a smile. "Anything is fine."

Even though the road ahead was uncertain and fraught with hardship, now that he had found hope and warmth by his side, Yue Zhiheng did not feel the weight of it all.

Being injured had its advantages—at least this New Year's Eve, he could finally have a quiet celebration.

Following the old master's instructions, Zhan Yunwei made sure Yue Zhiheng was fully armed with protective gear.

Yue Zhiheng knew it was pointless, but he allowed her to fuss over him.

He returned late that night, his complexion even worse than it had been that morning. He hadn't been able to have dinner at all, instead enduring the Spirit Emperor's fury, his demotion, and a period of house arrest.

The healers rushed over once again.

Zhan Yunwei stayed up late, refusing to return to her own room.

The healers initially wanted to tell her to leave, but seeing her determination—and then looking at the pale-faced Yue Zhiheng on the bed—they sighed and left without a word.

For the next several days, Zhan Yunwei practically lived in the side courtyard, careful not to touch Yue Zhiheng's wounds.

But tonight, she wanted to stay with him—to make up for the days she had once missed.

When the soul-wrenching pain struck in the middle of the night, Yue Zhiheng's forehead was drenched in cold sweat, his eyes empty, almost unaware of his surroundings.

Yet beside him, there was warmth.Zhan Yunwei placed her hand over his heart, using Spirit Soothing Arts to calm him over and over again.

In her youth, she had devoted herself to mastering domineering Spirit Control techniques. But now, for the first time, she pushed the Spirit Soothing Arts to their limits. With her eyes closed, she could almost feel the vast sea of memories within him—filled with old wounds, scars left behind by time. Patiently, tirelessly, she tried to smooth them out, one by one.

Fortunately, it worked. Gradually, the pain in Yue Zhiheng's chest eased.

Zhan Yunwei couldn't help but think—if only she had stayed by his side like this in their past life.

She was careful with her spiritual energy, deliberately avoiding his spiritual core at first. Only when he finally woke and noticed her caution did he look at her and say, "It's alright."

Only then did Zhan Yunwei slowly probe forward to check his spiritual core for any damage.

That was when she encountered a familiar yet unexpected imprint. She froze for a moment. "A Dao Companion Mark?"

"Mm." Yue Zhiheng responded. Seeing her expression, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Why are you so surprised, Miss Zhan?"

"I thought you…" I thought you had already erased it.

But Yue Zhiheng simply said, "I never would."

For the first time, Zhan Yunwei realized that even until his death in their past life, Yue Zhiheng had likely never removed the Dao Companion Mark.

She had always regarded him as a former husband, yet now she saw—she owed him far more than she had ever realized.

"Then one day, I will restore my own mark as well."

Under the gentle glow of the pearl lamp, Yue Zhiheng wanted to tell her there was no rush.

There were other things that needed to be restored too.

Zhan Yunwei sighed softly and murmured, "Husband."