chapter 77

"I told you this wasn't a good idea."

Not long after dinner, fireworks lit up the sky over Fenhe County, instantly illuminating the silent night and bringing a lively atmosphere. Even though the Yue Manor hadn't prepared any fireworks this year, they were still swept up in the festive spirit.

Staying up late on New Year's Eve was a tradition. Even the old master of the Yue family didn't hurry to leave; instead, he had the old servant wheel him into the courtyard to watch the young ones play.

Since Yue Qingluo's passing, the household affairs had once again fallen into the hands of the second madam.

She no longer cared much about such matters. In her free time, she still crafted Soul-cleansing Jade Tokens, and her temperament had become much gentler. The remaining servants in the household all received generous red envelopes from her, their faces beaming with joy as they released lanterns into the night.

There were no grand feasts or extravagant fireworks, but there were plenty of eternal lamps. Cui Ling Pavilion had sent them early this year. Being a family renowned for their artifact forging, even their simplest eternal lamps were more exquisite than those found outside.

The lampshades were plain, yet to be adorned with patterns or inscriptions.

For a moment, literate servants were surrounded by eager crowds, each person holding up a lamp and requesting words of blessing to be written on them.

Yue Wujiao, being his usual carefree self, simply ordered a table to be brought over and helped the servants paint and write.

Watching this, Yue Huaile chuckled and turned to Zhan Yunwei, commenting, "His calligraphy used to be criticized endlessly by our tutors, and now he dares to show off."

But the servants, undeterred, kept flattering Yue Wujiao, praising his artistic talent until he was completely carried away, losing all sense of time.

"Eldest Cousin's paintings are the real masterpieces," Yue Huaile said. "Though I never studied in the family academy with him, I heard that even the strictest tutor had nothing but praise for him."

She lowered her voice conspiratorially, whispering to her sister-in-law, "I heard from my brother that some girls in the academy had a crush on him, but they found his temperament too odd and eventually got scared away."

Zhan Yunwei couldn't help but glance toward Yue Zhiheng.

He was standing under the veranda, listening to the old master speak. The elderly man had drunk a little too much tonight. Since his eldest son's passing and his relentless focus on the matter of the shadow soldiers, it had been years since the old master had felt this lighthearted.

He rambled on, sharing countless secrets of artifact forging.

Several times, he repeated himself, only for Yue Zhiheng to bluntly remind him, "You already said that."

Or he would mercilessly expose him, "I mastered that when I was seventeen."

His cold attitude earned him a disapproving glance from the old master, who racked his brain but couldn't think of anything left to teach this unfilial grandson.

Yue Huaile nudged Zhan Yunwei with a grin. "Sister-in-law, should you go rescue Eldest Cousin?"

The conversation between the grandfather and grandson was clearly running dry.

Zhan Yunwei picked up a plain lantern and made her way through the lively courtyard, heading toward the veranda.

Before she could even speak, the old master waved his hand dismissively at Yue Zhiheng. "Forget it, forget it. Go accompany your wife."

Yue Zhiheng glanced at his grandfather, said nothing, and walked toward Zhan Yunwei.

"Why did you come over?" he asked.

"Huaile said your paintings are the best. I'd like you to paint one for me too, if Lord Yue would be so kind."

Yue Zhiheng signaled for a new table to be brought over.

As they waited, Zhan Yunwei whispered, "Were you deliberately provoking the old master?"

Yue Zhiheng didn't deny it. "You heard him. He drank too much tonight and mistook me for Yue Linxian."

Zhan Yunwei had read in the fated records that Yue Zhiheng's artifact-forging skills were not personally taught by the old master. Instead, he had learned from various masters within the clan, ultimately surpassing them all.

Yue Linxian had been the old master's most beloved son, personally mentored by him since childhood. His death had been a devastating blow—not just to Lady Xuan, but to the old master as well.

"Are you afraid of disappointing your grandfather?"

Yue Zhiheng wasn't even Yue Linxian's son. If the old master clung to his delusions, wouldn't he feel even more empty in the end?

Yue Zhiheng didn't respond. He only cast her a glance.

"Miss Zhan," he said with meaningful emphasis. "Have you noticed? You've been calling my name more naturally than before."

"…" If he hadn't pointed it out, she wouldn't have realized how naturally it had come to her.

Yue Zhiheng gently squeezed her fingertips, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

"Even if it was an imperial decree that arranged our marriage, thinking about it now… it wasn't so bad, was it?"

His touch sent a flush creeping up Zhan Yunwei's face. After a long pause, she quietly murmured, "Mm."

Even in her past life, when she despised Yue Zhiheng and considered their marriage a disgrace, she had to admit—being his Dao partner was not the worst thing.

She had angered him half to death countless times, even nearly taken his life on several occasions, but Yue Zhiheng had never once intentionally harmed or mistreated her.

When she wanted nothing to do with him, he barely set foot in the Yue Manor. Yet, the chefs in the small courtyard always went out of their way to prepare her favorite dishes.

Recalling Yue Huaile's words, Zhan Yunwei thought about how other girls feared him, found him strange. But deep down, she refuted that claim.

What was so strange about him?

He was perfectly fine.

By then, the servants had finished setting up the table.

"What should I paint?"

Originally, she had only meant to help Lord Yue escape from his drunken grandfather. But now, seeing him seated before her, she found herself genuinely interested.

"A koi fish?"

It was just for good fortune. There was no need for elaborate phoenixes, qilins, or landscapes.

Yue Zhiheng said nothing. He dipped his brush in ink, and soon, two plump and lively koi fish took shape on the lantern.

His calligraphy wasn't particularly outstanding, so he didn't inscribe any words.

As Zhan Yunwei watched him paint, she realized Yue Huaile hadn't been exaggerating. No wonder even the strictest tutor had praised him.

When Yue Zhiheng handed her the lantern, a gust of wind passed through, making the koi fish on the lantern appear as if they were swimming.

The servants watching were momentarily mesmerized, admiration gleaming in their eyes.

These were all qualities Zhan Yunwei had never noticed in her past life.

But now, she couldn't help but think—if Yue Zhiheng had been born in an era of peace, or if he had been a noble young master from the very start, he would have undoubtedly been both scholarly and skilled in combat, admired by all.

"With a pen, one can bring peace to the world; with a sword, one can secure the land."

Yue Zhiheng never lost to anyone. When Master Ge was weeping blood, he paraded through the streets holding a blood-stained plaque, proclaiming that Yue Zhiheng was a "Kirin child." Looking back now, those must have been his heartfelt words.

Even Yue Huaile was stunned. After all, Yue Zhiheng's brush had always been used for designing weapons, forging artifacts, and taking lives. This was the first time she had seen him paint peaceful creatures—birds, beasts, and fish.

Feeling an itch in her hands, Yue Huaile eagerly handed him a lantern of her own and shamelessly mimicked Yue Wujiao, saying, "Cousin, could you paint one for me too?"

Yue Zhiheng gave her a sidelong glance. Since they were all staying up for New Year's Eve, he didn't refuse.

Even Second Uncle joined in on the fun. He had always fancied himself a man of refined taste, but upon closer inspection today, he realized Yue Zhiheng's paintings far surpassed anything outside the household.

Second Uncle, ever the type to forget past grievances, rubbed his hands together and thickened his face, saying, "Ah Heng, would you be so kind as to grant your Second Uncle a masterpiece as well?"

"…" Yue Zhiheng looked up, about to tell him to get lost.

When he wasn't smiling, his long, narrow eyes carried an icy sharpness. Second Uncle had always feared him and nearly took a step back in fright. The gathered servants, who had been enjoying the lively atmosphere, suddenly remembered exactly who he was.

Silence settled for a moment. Yue Zhiheng's gaze swept over the bustling residence, the joyous celebrations around him. He swallowed his cold words, held back his irritation, and reluctantly took the paper from Second Uncle.

Tonight, he was surprisingly agreeable. In the end, even Second Madam and Shihu joined in the excitement.

As Yue Zhiheng sat there with a dark expression, furiously painting, Zhan Yunwei couldn't help but feel a little guilty. After all, she was the one who had started this. Thinking ahead, she guessed that after this New Year, Lord Yue would likely have an aversion to painting for quite some time.

The old master had long retired for the night. As the wind picked up, Second Madam and Second Uncle also decided to return to their rooms to keep vigil. The servants, satisfied after lighting their lanterns, dispersed as well. Only the younger generation remained, warming wine in the main hall and playing drinking games as they waited for dawn.

This New Year felt lively and fulfilling, even comparable to her past celebrations in Changyang Mountain.

Zhan Yunwei didn't even realize when she had fallen asleep at the table.

What woke her was the warmth beneath her cheek—a hand resting under her face.

She opened her eyes and found herself lying on Yue Zhiheng's arm, his heavy cloak draped over her shoulders.

In the aftermath of drinking games and poetry contests, none of the younger Yue family members, nor even Shihu and the other maids, had managed to win a single round. Even at pitch-pot, they had lost miserably.

Losing often meant more penalties, and now, nearly everyone was slumped over, drowsy and sprawled out.

The once plain lanterns around them were now adorned with vivid, lifelike paintings. Wrapped in Yue Zhiheng's warm cloak, Zhan Yunwei gazed at them, feeling as though she were caught in a dream—a vivid, fantastical dream. But what was even clearer was the person right in front of her, so close.

The wind rustled the painted papers, whispering against the quiet night. No one else stirred.

The warmth beneath her cheek deepened. Yue Zhiheng was close—so close she could feel his breath.

In such an atmosphere, it was hard not to think that Lord Yue was about to do something.

Zhan Yunwei hesitated for a moment and gave him a look, as if to say: Um… isn't this a little inappropriate?

Yue Zhiheng lowered his gaze to her.

At first, he had simply intended to remind her that, as the only Spirit Master in the hall, she should return to her room to rest—after all, the Fenghe District was thick with ominous energy.

But she—

He paused, not bothering to correct her misunderstanding, and instead returned her gaze with a firm one of his own: It's fine.

Zhan Yunwei's emotions were always written on her face, and even her ears blushed a soft pink. Fine… fine then.

Her lips were caught in a gentle kiss. She closed her eyes, catching the faint, cool fragrance on Lord Yue's robes.

Surrounded by the glow of countless lanterns, their world became an intimate space of their own. She could almost hear her heartbeat—entwined with his—quickening with every subtle movement.

For a long moment, it felt as if the kiss was slipping into something deeper, something she could barely control. Breathless, she finally rested her forehead against his shoulder.

Shihu, still slumped over a table behind a lantern, mumbled in her sleep, startling Zhan Yunwei.

Yue Zhiheng, arms wrapped around her, hadn't expected a simple kiss to spiral out of control. He gently smoothed her breath.

Zhan Yunwei thought it over and murmured near his ear, "I told you this wasn't a good idea."

Yue Zhiheng nearly laughed but managed to hold back, not daring to reveal the truth.

From the very beginning, he had never intended to go that far—it was her idea, after all, Miss Zhan.

But his expression remained composed. He even played along, appearing deeply contemplative before nodding solemnly, "Mm. You're right."

The lively and heartwarming New Year's Eve passed, and spring arrived in full bloom. The trees within the estate sprouted new buds, heralding the warmth of the season.

Some days later, Yue Zhiheng had fully recovered.

Qu Lan'yue paid another visit. Zhan Yunwei understood—it was time to feed the Yin Soldiers.

Qu Lan'yue shut the doors behind her and activated the formation.

The array was dim, nearly imperceptible like dust in the air, revealing nothing unusual. But upon raising her eyes, Zhan Yunwei glimpsed a vast, boundless deep sea beyond.

She had always known Qu Lan'yue's abilities were formidable, but this was the first time she had seen her display such mastery over formations.

Even superior to Dongfang Che.

If Fang Huai saw this, he would likely question everything he knew. In terms of combat, Qu Lan'yue might not be the strongest, but in formation techniques, she was undoubtedly a grandmaster.

Qu Lan'yue stepped forward first, and Zhan Yunwei followed.

Powerful array masters could often manipulate space, shifting distances in an instant. Some could even teleport thousands of miles. But the moment Zhan Yunwei arrived, she knew this was something far beyond that.

This was no longer the Spirit Realm—it was the depths of the mortal world's sea.

Finally, she understood why the Yue family, having raised Yin Soldiers since Yue Laoye's generation, had never been discovered by the Spirit Emperor.

Looking up, she took in the chilling vastness of the seabed. All around, intricate formations and enchanted artifacts were in place, reinforcing the mystical seals.

Beyond the translucent, blood-red barrier stood an army—countless Yin Soldiers waiting in the depths.

Their feet hovered above the ground, heads drooping lifelessly. At a glance, their eerie and chilling presence was enough to send shivers down one's spine.

Sensing the arrival of their master, the army of lifeless Yin Soldiers opened their eyes in unison, their gazes sharp and piercing.

In her past life, Zhan Yunwei had only heard tales of how terrifying these tens of thousands of Yin Soldiers were—how treacherous and abominable the rebel who controlled them had been.

But now, standing in the depths of the sea, witnessing this power firsthand, she finally understood the magnitude of that war.

No wonder the Spirit Emperor had been gravely wounded in her past life. No wonder Yue Zhiheng had nearly overturned the entire Spirit Realm.

Even though she had mentally prepared herself, the sight before her was still deeply shocking.

Qu Lanyue withdrew the barrier. Such an ancient and massive teleportation array was not easy to wield, and her face had turned pale from the effort.

Today was the day they had to suppress the Yin Soldiers with ice lotus blood once again.

Zhan Yunwei noticed that at the very front of the formation stood a tiny girl.

She looked no older than six or seven, her gaze cold and distant—completely out of place among the others. Strangely enough, Zhan Yunwei did not see any ferocity in her eyes, only unwavering determination.

She was the youngest Yin Soldier.

Yue Zhiheng was unusually silent today.

Just when Qu Lanyue thought he wouldn't speak, he finally explained to Zhan Yunwei, "Every Yin Soldier chose this willingly."

He and Qu Lanyue had both asked—after all, they wanted powerful Yin Soldiers, not vengeful spirits.

In the vast Spirit Realm, too many people had lost their homes and families because of the Lord of Du'e City, because of the Spirit Emperor.

Even a small child carried hatred in her heart.

Yue Zhiheng remembered it clearly—the moment that cold little hand had rested upon his own, as she said, "I want to do something for my mother and little brother, too."

Even if it meant being utterly annihilated.

Had she been born in a time of peace, she might have grown up to be an extraordinary person.

Seeing the tension in his expression, Zhan Yunwei couldn't help but smile. "I understand."

This was a difficult path—she had never intended to criticize. She hadn't expected the Yue family to have done it so well.

Only today did she truly understand why the Yue family was so cautious, unwilling to let anyone else interfere. This was the result of countless people's devotion, their dreams, their very lives and souls.

Some sought to protect their living loved ones. Some held onto a sense of justice. Every single Yin Soldier—none of them should be sacrificed in vain.

"Miss Zhan," Qu Lanyue asked, "Earlier, you mentioned you had an idea. What did you mean?"

Zhan Yunwei understood. Yin Soldiers were, by nature, lifeless entities. To command them—to turn the dead into a formidable weapon—was an act of defying the heavens themselves.

Cultivators were not gods. That was why the Yue family had no choice but to feed them continuously over the years, using Yue Zhiheng's ice lotus blood as a medium to bind them under his command.

But relying solely on formations and enchanted artifacts to sustain them was a slow process.

Zhan Yunwei turned to them, then raised her hand.

Countless threads of white spiritual energy flowed from her fingertips, each strand as fine as silk, falling upon the Yin Soldiers.

She closed her eyes, and then—

The previously silent, motionless Yin Soldiers suddenly had a glimmer in their eyes. One by one, they sat down cross-legged and began cultivating on their own.

Qu Lanyue was so stunned that she was momentarily speechless.

After a long pause, Zhan Yunwei opened her eyes and said, "It seems… my Spirit Control Technique can also command Yin Soldiers."

Yue Zhiheng glanced at her and corrected her calmly, "Not 'seems'—it can."

It truly worked.

Qu Lanyue's heart nearly leaped out of her chest. This was the first time she realized—Spirit Control Techniques could be used in such a way.

Just imagine—Yin Soldiers capable of actively cultivating.

Given time, what kind of monsters would they become?

No wonder Spirit Control Techniques had been forbidden.

Miss Zhan… this was simply defying the very laws of the universe.