Returning to the elegant cottage at the foot of Wu'an Mountain late at night, Mu and Cai slept soundly until midday before rising.
They slept separately.
In the main hall of the cottage, Mu Qingyan sat on his seat, listening to You Guanyue and Shangguan Haonan report on the situation in the Vast Sea Mountain Range.
You Guanyue spoke eloquently: "...The damaged sections of Paradise Palace have been fully repaired. The auxiliary halls previously built by Nie Zhe have all been demolished. However, the pavilion east of the Heavenly Hall is structurally connected to two main beams of the palace. Wang Tianfeng asks how the Cult should proceed—it can't be forcibly dismantled."
Mu Qingyan's brows furrowed slightly as he sighed softly, "I was too impassioned before. In truth, the buildings are innocent—why must they all be destroyed? After all, Nie Zhe, who committed those debaucheries and sins, is already dead. The newly constructed areas can be tidied up and repurposed. Tell Wang Tianfeng to leave them be. Zhao Zhao, don't you agree?"
—That bastard's den of debauchery makes me sick just looking at it! To hell with keeping it—screw his ancestors!
Seated at a nearby desk, Cai Zhao bit her brush as she leaned over a spread-out sheet of white paper, her expression solemn, completely ignoring the Painted-Skin Demon's words.
Shangguan Haonan stammered through a report from a ledger: "Nie Zhe spent over a decade envying and suppressing talent, causing many of the Cult's original pillars to either flee or perish. Some even established minor sects in the Martial World. Yu Huixin suggests humbly seeking them out—after all, they're old comrades, and their return would be ideal. Elder Hu says if they refuse to return properly, we should make an example of them to establish authority."
Mu Qingyan's face showed compassion. "They're all fellow Cult brethren. We once swore to live and die together—must we now turn blades against each other?"
—Yu Huixin is truly a disaster. Thankfully, Nie Hengcheng died early before this godson could ruin him completely. Those old Cult members driven out by the Nie uncle and nephew—how old are they now? How many years do they have left to cause trouble? Even if we bring them back, they'd all be senior figures with inflated egos—we'd be too busy catering to them to actually use them! Have they forgotten what the Nether Sect is? A bunch of unruly demons who fear power, not virtue. No need for words—just beat them into submission, and they'll return to the Cult obediently and loyally.
Shangguan Haonan said urgently, "Cult Master, our Divine Cult isn't some tavern or teahouse where people come and go as they please! The 'Never Betray the Cult' oath taken upon joining wasn't a joke! Leaving the Cult is bad enough, but establishing their own factions outside? It was tolerable under Nie Zhe's incompetence, but if we let this slide too, aren't we just letting them call us the Demonic Cult for nothing?!"
Suppressing the urge to curse, Mu Qingyan covered his face with a long sigh. "How can you say such things, Altar Leader Shangguan? So-called 'demons' are those who commit demonic acts. If you refrain from such acts, you're not a demon—you're... you're... what was it, Zhao Zhao?"
He turned to ask, but Cai Zhao was furiously writing on her paper, appearing not to hear.
Shangguan Haonan looked dismayed. "Isn't this too soft?"
Mu Qingyan glared at him. "Have you never heard of gentleness, kindness, courtesy, moderation, and deference, or of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and fidelity?! Go read more books!"
Shangguan Haonan looked dumbfounded, while You Guanyue stifled a laugh and subtly pulled him back.
Mu Qingyan finally said, "The reports are mostly done, right? If so, you may return to the Cult. Our revival should proceed gradually—no need to rush. With Elder Hu and Yu Huixin managing daily affairs in the Vast Sea Mountain Range, they constantly complain about lacking hands. Go back and assist them. From now on, I won't need your accompaniment. Right, Zhao Zhao?"This time, Cai Zhao finally raised her head, lifting her eyelids slightly. "Right, no one else is coming. It's just me and two of your cult members on this trip." She didn’t want outsiders to know the retreat location of the Shi brothers.
Mu Qingyan leisurely walked to the desk. "Just a simple letter of reassurance, yet Zhao Zhao still hasn’t finished. If you can’t finish it, you might as well return to the inn and explain it to your senior brothers in person."
Cai Zhao slammed the brush in her hand onto the table. "I’d love to go back to the inn, but now the rumor of my broken engagement isn’t just known throughout the entire inn—it’s spread across the whole of Wu’an City!"
"Is that so?" Mu Qingyan feigned surprise. "I never thought the disciples of the North Star would be such gossips. In just one day and night, the news of the broken engagement has spread throughout the entire city?"
Cai Zhao sneered repeatedly. "Who spread it remains to be seen. Fine—whoever spread the rumor is a bastard!"
You Guanyue and Shangguan Haonan both shrank their necks slightly.
Mu Qingyan pondered. "Bastard is too harsh. Let’s just say turtle."
This time, You Guanyue and Shangguan Haonan hunched their shoulders as well.
Cai Zhao was in low spirits.
She had originally intended to return to the inn, but as soon as she entered the city, she was met with rampant rumors—how she had been jilted, how Zhou Yuqi had wept and begged on his knees, and how she, relying on her superior martial skills, had failed to intimidate him into staying and had no choice but to agree to the annulment... The stories were so elaborate they might as well have been scripted for a play.
Cai Zhao could almost imagine the scene if she returned to the inn: endless chatter, buzzing gossip, righteous indignation, comforting words, and, of course, no shortage of mockery and ridicule.
So, she turned right back to the elegant residence.
She had planned to set off immediately, but at this moment, Mu Qingyan suddenly put on an act, persuading her to at least leave a letter of reassurance so her fellow disciples wouldn’t worry. "What if they think you’ve taken your own life in a moment of despair?"
"I’d sooner see you take your own life than do it myself."
"What if they take their anger out on Zhou Yuqi?"
"Since when do you care about him? Weren’t you itching to skin him alive before?"
Mu Qingyan sighed faintly. "Only now do I realize how rare it is for true love to prevail. Zhou Yuqi may seem weak, but he dared to defy the strong for the sake of being with the one he loves. I truly admire him."
Cai Zhao narrowed her eyes. "Explain yourself—who’s the strong one here?"
Mu Qingyan lowered his head. "Zhao Zhao, don’t blame him. To clear your name of the rumors, Zhou Yuqi has already sent a letter home, summoning Min Xinrou. When she arrives, he will publicly declare their affair and shoulder the blame for the broken engagement."
Hearing this only made Cai Zhao angrier.
Before she could speak, Shangguan Haonan cautiously chimed in, "Isn’t this a bit too much? Just after breaking off the engagement, he’s already bringing in his new love. It’s not giving Miss Zhao Zhao any face."
Mu Qingyan immediately scolded, "Shoo, shoo! A perfect match between a talented scholar and a beautiful lady—what business do you monsters have interfering?" He then turned with a smile. "Right, Zhao Zhao?"
Cai Zhao opened her mouth but said nothing.
In the end, the letter of reassurance contained only three sentences.
First, she was fine—no thoughts of suicide or renouncing the world.
Second, she had discovered traces of the Demonic Cult’s misdeeds and was now pursuing the lead. Everyone should not worry.
Third, the broken engagement was mutually agreed upon by her and Zhou Yuqi—forced melons are not sweet. She asked her senior brothers not to trouble the Zhou family disciples. Unity among the Big Dipper Six Sects was paramount, and they must guard against the Demonic Cult’s schemes.
With everything prepared, the four of them left the elegant residence together, setting off in two different directions.The Suchuan River was the largest river in the Wuan Mountain region, and indeed the greatest waterway for miles around. Its upper reaches converged near Chuguan into a mighty stream, which then branched out to flow through several territories, cutting across Wuan Mountain before stretching downstream.
Since ancient times, settlements had always clustered around water sources. Given the vastness of the Suchuan, numerous villages and towns dotted both banks along its upper and lower reaches.
A riverside search was inevitable, but the decision Mu and Cai faced was whether to head upstream or downstream.
"I think it's downstream," Cai Zhao said after studying the map for a long while. "If it were upstream, the retreat of the Twin Heroes of Shi would be closer to Chuguan than Wuan Mountain. Then my aunt would have said 'sharing the same river waters with our North Star disciples,' not 'drinking from the same river as Great Hero Chang.'"
Mu Qingyan agreed.
Thus, they set out from Wuan Mountain to explore the lower reaches of the Suchuan.
This journey ended up lasting over half a month.
The upper Suchuan rushed with turbulent currents, riddled with hidden whirlpools where ordinary bamboo rafts and small boats could hardly navigate. Yet once past Wuan Mountain, the river suddenly grew gentle and calm, teeming with fish, shrimp, and shellfish, and rarely claiming lives—hence the villages here thrived even more.
To avoid missing any hidden clues, they didn’t dare use the Golden Winged Roc and instead patiently inquired at each stop on their donkeys. Yet this leg of the journey was fraught with annoyances.
Cai Zhao had disguised herself as a man, posing as Mu Qingyan’s brother. But the narrow-minded innkeeper in a rural village suggested they share a room, saying, "What’s the fuss between brothers?"
So Cai Zhao switched back to women’s attire, now pretending to be Mu Qingyan’s sister. The villagers responded with knowing smirks, their eyes saying, "We get it—no need to hide. All eloping young couples love calling each other siblings."
"What if they really are siblings?" Cai Zhao couldn’t help asking as she sat outside a blacksmith’s shop.
The blacksmith’s plump wife chatted while cracking melon seeds: "Young folks these days, who travels with their own siblings? When the elders of your family roamed the Martial World in their youth, did they do so with their siblings?"
Cai Zhao fell silent.
Though Cai Pingshu and Cai Pingchun were siblings who relied on each other for survival, they had never once traveled the Martial World together.
Giving up on clarifying her relationship with Mu Qingyan, she refocused.
Cai Zhao had been asking about "Seven-Ying Village," but everyone shook their heads, claiming they’d never heard of it. In the end, while Seven-Ying Village remained elusive, they did stumble upon Three-Goat Village and Five-Pig Village.
So Cai Zhao decided to follow the persimmon cake clue. Along one stretch of the river, neither bank’s villages grew persimmon trees. Further downstream, the hillsides were lush with them, but the locals made round persimmon cakes.
Pressing on, Cai Zhao finally spotted the vibrant red, hexagonal persimmon cakes hanging outside—only to have her joy cut short when the villagers revealed that every settlement in this area preferred shaping their cakes into hexagons.
With a sigh, Cai Zhao resigned herself to sampling them village by village.
The villager hadn’t lied—the flavors did vary from place to place. Yanghua Village’s cakes were slightly sweet, Lihua Village’s were mild, Taohua Village’s were dry and hard, while Meihua Village’s were soft... After half a month of nothing but persimmon cakes, even Cai Zhao had reached her limit.
"Zhao Zhao, your face is the same color as a persimmon cake now," Mu Qingyan remarked with concern, leaning close to her shoulder.
Cai Zhao wished she could punch him. "...I noticed. No need to point it out.""Have you tasted any persimmon cakes that come close to the flavor from back then?"
"...Almost."
"Zhao Zhao, are you tired? Maybe we should take a break for lunch before continuing? Today we have a local specialty—sweet persimmon glutinous rice, even more famous than yesterday's crystal persimmon cake."
Cai Zhao suddenly felt all joy drain from her life.
Her sallow complexion seemed to radiate bitterness, making the fair-skinned, handsome young man beside her appear even more elegant and refined.
During this period, Mu Qingyan had completely changed his previous flamboyant style of dark red and black luxurious attire, suddenly switching to a light-colored, scholarly outfit. His jet-black hair was neatly tied up with a scholar's headband, and he carried a square wicker basket on his back, presenting an image of simple elegance and harmless charm.
Also during this time, he hadn't uttered a single sharp remark—no sarcasm, no mocking comments—instead, he surrounded Cai Zhao with warm words every day.
Though whether it was due to lack of skill or not, his "warm words" pierced deeper than arrows—Cai Zhao firmly believed he was doing it on purpose.
During this same period, while Cai Zhao was miserably tasting persimmon cakes every day, Mu Qingyan was busy making friends everywhere they went, enthusiastically helping villagers solve their problems at every village they visited—acting more righteous than the most upright orthodox sects.
When Yanghua Village and Lihua Village were fighting over an irrigation ditch, he offered a pile of silver to have a new one built;
In Taohua Village, there was an old crooked-neck tree used for blessings that hadn't bloomed in five or six years—without a word, he took out a jar of some medicinal powder and sprinkled it around the tree, quickly driving out the borers so it could bloom and bear fruit next year;
When a giant boulder blocked the path between Juhua Village and Meihua Village, forcing a widower and widow to abandon their homes to be together, Mu Qingyan stepped forward and with a few slaps, turned that boulder into something as soft as tofu pudding.
At the widower and widow's wedding, he was moved to tears and asked Zhao Zhao if she was touched to see true love prevail.
Cai Zhao said she was very touched.
Mu Qingyan wondered why Zhao Zhao wasn't smiling if she was so moved.
Cai Zhao twitched the corners of her mouth for him to see.
Just as they were about to complete their tour of all the "flower villages" along this stretch of river, one day they arrived at the foot of a rugged, peculiar small mountain. As night fell, thunder suddenly rumbled and heavy rain began pouring down.
Mu Qingyan held Cai Zhao under a small pavilion at the mountain's base, repeatedly regretting that they should have stayed at Hehua Village that afternoon.
In the pitch-black rainy night, only occasional chains of lightning briefly illuminated their faces.
In the frightening solitude of the night, a group of black-clad figures abruptly appeared in the curtain of rain at some unknown time.
Silent as nocturnal ghosts, they slowly surrounded the small pavilion.
A faint, cold smile—long absent—curved Mu Qingyan's lips as he murmured, "Finally showed up. I was beginning to think we wouldn't lure them out."
Cai Zhao's eyes remained calm as her hand rested on the clasp at her waist. "After all the effort Young Master Mu put into this performance, it would have been rude of them not to appear."
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