Cai Zhao's slash wasn't particularly heavy nor light—certainly lighter than internal injuries like damaged dantian or ruined inner energy, but definitely more severe than ordinary flesh wounds. Initially, Cai Zhao had felt some regret, but upon seeing You Guanyue's exaggerated look of utter devastation, she couldn't help but sneer coldly, "Your Altar Lord is merely injured, not on death's door. Altar Lord You, your act is overdone."
You Guanyue had no choice but to retreat awkwardly.
Shangguan Haonan whispered beside him, "Didn't I tell you not to overdo it earlier? The Altar Lord has his own plans."
You Guanyue replied, "I just wanted to share some of his burdens on the path to matrimony."
Shangguan Haonan looked surprised. "You're still a bachelor yourself. Where do you get the confidence to help with the Altar Lord's romantic affairs?"
You Guanyue: "...Do you have any manners?"
Inside an elegant cottage at the foot of Wu'an Mountain, layers of water-like thin silk curtains hung low. Mu Qingyan reclined on the bed, his pallor seemingly even paler than the satin sleeping robe he wore.
Cai Zhao sat outside the curtains, the two of them silent.
Mu Qingyan spoke first: "It's too late to go up the mountain now. We'll leave at dawn—we can still rest for a few hours."
Cai Zhao raised her eyes. "Where do I sleep?"
Mu Qingyan hesitated briefly. "...This was originally your room."
The statement seemed abrupt, but Cai Zhao understood.
She stood and walked to a tall lacquered cabinet against the wall. Opening it, she found stacks of brand-new women's clothing neatly arranged—from soft, delicate undergarments to outerwear like cloaks, everything was there.
Cai Zhao took nothing. With a loud bang, she shut the cabinet door and stomped over to the daybed by the window, lying down and haphazardly pulling a thin quilt over herself. Mu Qingyan said nothing about her obviously petulant behavior, merely extinguishing the candle with a flick of his sleeve before lying down himself.
A long time passed. The room was silent and dark. Outside, the chirping of crickets grew clearer, accompanied by the gentle rustling of leaves swaying in the wind. The faint shadows of branches cast by moonlight danced tenderly on the plain gauze window.
Suddenly, Cai Zhao spoke: "Is there any point in you clinging like this?"
From behind the curtains came a calm male voice: "You're not me. How would you know there's no point?"
Cai Zhao gnawed at the raised embroidery on the quilt cover, her voice bitter. "You're the leader of your sect now, with heavy responsibilities. I also have family and friends to care for. Can't you consider the bigger picture for once?"
Behind the curtains, there was a brief silence before Mu Qingyan responded in a light tone, "When my father was fourteen, he believed he could protect himself well enough to wander the Martial World alone and planned to leave. The elders of the Qiu family begged him desperately—if he left, wouldn't the generations of retainers loyal to the Mu family become nothing but meat on Nie Hengcheng's chopping block? So Father stayed."
"For years after, those subordinates either died or fled, and Father gradually arranged safe paths for the rest. The Qiu elders had their own power base. By the time he turned eighteen, Father had another chance to leave. But by then, Nie Hengcheng grew uneasy. How could he remain secure as sect leader with a talented, vigorous Mu descendant roaming free? It would be safer to keep him under close watch. And so, Sun Ruoshui made her grand entrance."
Cai Zhao sighed softly under the covers—he wouldn't even call her Madam Sun anymore, referring to her directly by name now.Mu Qingyan continued, "Every time Father made plans to settle Sun Ruoshui, she would inform Nie Hengcheng beforehand, and they would collaborate from within and without, keeping Father tied up. Either they arranged for some leaders of the Heavenly Dipper Earthly Fiend Camp to feign lustful intentions toward Sun Ruoshui, or they made her fall gravely ill, leaving her frail and bedridden. In short, they made Father believe that if he left, Sun Ruoshui would either be defiled by lechers or lose her life. And then..."
"And then, you were born," Cai Zhao softly interjected.
"Right, I was born, once again holding Father back. This time, it lasted over a decade." Through the light silk curtain, Mu Qingyan's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Sacrificing for the greater good? My father was the epitome of self-sacrifice, and look where it got him."
"To the divine, Nie Hengcheng only obscured the heavens, stealing the divine legacy. For himself, Father lived a life of suppressed frustration, never even setting foot beyond the Vast Sea Mountains. If Father were still alive, I might have been content to become an elegant, carefree recluse like him. But he died—because of his sacrifices."
"Zhao Zhao, don’t blame me for clinging to you. I refuse to end up like Father, letting go of what I desire most and enduring a lifetime of resignation. If you truly despise me, just take my life—I won’t resist. But as long as I live, I won’t let you go. As for the future... I haven’t figured it out yet, but I swear I won’t harm you or your family. For now, let’s take it one step at a time..."
Cai Zhao could no longer recall what Mu Qingyan said after that. She drifted into a hazy sleep, as if walking on the soft, swaying reeds along the banks of the Green Gauze River. Soon, the butler’s voice called her back for dinner.
By the time she awoke, daylight had fully broken. Cai Zhao sat dazed on the bed, her hair disheveled, her clothes crumpled, revealing her slender collarbones and faintly pink skin—like a lost doll. Mu Qingyan sat beside the bed, his gaze dark and unreadable, watching her for who knew how long.
The confessional whispers of the night before might as well have never happened. With perfect composure, he urged her to eat breakfast—shrimp dumplings made with freshly caught and shelled shrimp, purple rice porridge simmered in bone broth, and sesame sugar cakes with molten filling that required careful bites...
Faced with the master of the elegant residence, whose moods changed as swiftly as a shapeshifter, Cai Zhao sighed over her spoon. "Lord Mu, you truly are a man of grand ambitions."
Mu Qingyan remained unfazed. "Flattery. Young Lady Knight Cai is no less formidable."
They set off immediately after breakfast, and Mu and Cai soon arrived at the Chang Family Fortress, heading straight for the graveyard behind the mountain.
Cai Zhao cut to the chase. "Alright, tell me about your clues."
Mu Qingyan said, "As I mentioned before, I suspected there was a mastermind behind the Chang Family massacre. After dealing with some trivial matters, I arrived at the fortress days ahead of you. I had my men comb through the ruins repeatedly, even digging half a foot into the foundations to check for hidden chambers or tunnels—but found nothing."
Cai Zhao suddenly understood. "So that’s why the burnt ruins up front were so thoroughly disturbed. I thought it was scavenging thieves, but it was your people."
Mu Qingyan smiled. "No need for veiled sarcasm. Though, I do have a few brothers skilled in excavation—I brought some along this time."
Seeing her jabs had no effect, Cai Zhao moved on. "You found nothing. Then what?"Mu Qingyan said, "With no other options, I recalled the days I spent recuperating at the Chang family residence. Most belongings had been reduced to ashes along with the fortress, except for this place, which remains intact."
He pointed to the surrounding graves. "I suddenly remembered something—shortly after Madam Chang passed away, the Qingming Festival arrived. At that time, Great Hero Chang was deeply troubled, having lost his beloved wife and sent away his adopted son, leaving him utterly alone and desolate. On Qingming, the entire Chang household went to the back mountain to pay respects to the deceased. Only at night did Great Hero Chang go alone, carrying a food basket. I wanted to follow, but he declined."
"What exactly are you trying to say?" Cai Zhao grew increasingly confused.
Mu Qingyan asked, "Do you know what offerings the people of Wu'an use to honor the deceased?"
Cai Zhao: "Soy sauce shaomai?"
Mu Qingyan chuckled. "No, according to Wu'an customs, offerings for family members consist of three vegetarian fruits, three vegetarian pastries, six items in total, along with a little wine. For outsiders, poultry and meat are used."
Cai Zhao began to understand. "So, that night, Great Hero Chang's food basket contained meat offerings?"
"Exactly."
Mu Qingyan walked between two tombstones, hands behind his back. "A few days ago, I carefully examined every grave on this back mountain. They either belong to Chang family relatives or loyal servants. Even Elder Chang's sworn brothers, who had no kin, were buried here to receive offerings from the Chang descendants."
Cai Zhao grasped it. "Then, who was Great Hero Chang offering meat to that night?"
"Before, I always thought the Chang family was massacred because of me. Before his death, Great Hero Chang repeatedly told me the bloodshed wasn’t aimed at me and that I shouldn’t feel indebted. At the time, I thought he was just comforting me. But now, I realize his words might have been true—the Chang family was indeed hiding a secret."
Mu Qingyan frowned. "Unfortunately, a year has passed, and any offerings left at the graves have long been eaten by wild animals. I can’t figure out who the outsider buried in the Chang family cemetery was. Yet, I feel this is the key to unraveling the mystery."
Cai Zhao thought for a moment and suddenly asked, "On the day we came up the mountain with the disciples of Grand Beginning Temple, what were you planning to do?"
Mu Qingyan's expression flickered slightly before he smiled.
Cai Zhao widened her eyes. "No wonder you brought people skilled at digging! Were you planning to dig up graves that day?!"
Mu Qingyan sighed. "I was still hesitating, you know."
"The Chang family treated you so well, and you wanted to desecrate their ancestral graves! You heartless ingrate!"
"My mistake, my mistake. I just wanted to find the culprit behind the massacre," Mu Qingyan soothed the girl. "Now, tell me your clue. You were willing to share it with Song Yuzhi the other day—it shouldn’t hurt to tell me too. Maybe we can uncover the truth without grave-digging."
Cai Zhao shot him a glare. "It’s nothing much. A few months ago, my father came here to investigate. He said this place felt different compared to over a decade ago." She then repeated Cai Pingchun’s words from that day.
"But Third Senior Brother and I checked repeatedly and found nothing unusual." She sounded puzzled.
To her surprise, Mu Qingyan’s eyes lit up. "There is indeed something odd here!"
"??" Cai Zhao was stunned. "You figured it out just like that?"
Mu Qingyan’s gaze sparkled. "Didn’t you notice anything off about your father’s words?"Cai Zhao grew even more puzzled. "What did my father say? Over a decade ago in early spring, he was troubled and spent half a day here in a daze. Then my aunt called him back to wash his face with cold water to refresh himself."—Such a brief account, where was the oddity?
"Exactly that line!" Mu Qingyan sized up the girl with a teasing expression, muttering to himself, "It seems Fallen Blossom Valley truly enjoys eternal spring, and you haven’t stayed long on Nine Conch Mountain. But Vast Heaven Gate is also built on a mountain—how could Song Yuzhi not have noticed either?! Hmph, truly a pretty face with no substance!"
Cai Zhao frowned. "If you have something to say, say it. Mock me again, and I’ll leave!"
"Fine, fine, I’ll speak." Mu Qingyan chuckled. "First, tell me—do you feel cold or hot right now?"
Cai Zhao paused, unconsciously tugging at her collar. "A little chilly."
Mu Qingyan nodded. "Mount Wu’an is inherently cold and remote, and this place is a shaded hollow. Even now in early summer, it feels brisk—let alone when your father came here in early spring."
Cai Zhao agreed.
Mu Qingyan continued, "After spending half a day in a daze at the gravesite, your father must have been freezing. Under normal circumstances, after enduring icy mountain winds for hours, what should one do upon returning?"
Cai Zhao: "Naturally, drink a bowl of ginger soup to ward off the chill."
"But your aunt told your father to wash his face with cold water," Mu Qingyan said slowly.
Cai Zhao inhaled sharply, stunned. "...Why would she do that?" She scratched her ear, then looked up after a moment. "Was my father’s face sunburned?"
Mu Qingyan’s eyes gleamed with approval. "That’s my guess."
"So that’s it, that’s it!" Cai Zhao murmured to herself. "No wonder my father found it strange—because he vaguely remembered his face being warmed by the sun over a decade ago, but not months ago."
She glanced around in confusion. "But this place is clearly shaded. Even now in early summer, sunlight is scarce. Back then, it was early spring—how could the sun have reddened his face?"
Mu Qingyan’s gaze darkened as he spoke deliberately, "There must be a spot here where sunlight is unusually abundant—enough to warm a person’s face."
Cai Zhao followed his gaze, scanning their surroundings. A cold wind swept through the desolate graveyard, thick with an eerie chill.
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