A Decade of Nightscape Lights

"Leader, would you like to see this?"

Yan Xu stood in the vast, pitch-black hall, unfurling four scrolls side by side and laying them flat on the ground.

"These are detailed records of the wives, concubines, and descendants of past leaders—trivial matters rarely examined." The elderly man looked somewhat embarrassed. "This humble servant was negligent and never reviewed them either."

Mu Qingyan said, "Like you, I've only read the general historical records of the Divine Sect. I had no interest in prying into the romantic affairs or domestic matters of past leaders."

Yan Xu wiped his sweat. "The mystery lies here. The general records indeed only document the power struggles among Mu Song's sons and sons-in-law after his death. But these detailed scrolls mention that Leader Mu Song had an eldest son who died young."

The four slightly yellowed silk scrolls, inked with records, lay like four stark white ribbons across the Mystic Iron floor. Mu Qingyan stood quietly beside them, examining the contents.

"Leader, look—these first three scrolls are roughly the same length when fully unfurled," Yan Xu pointed to the first three ribbons. "But this fourth one is over ten feet shorter." He indicated the fourth ribbon.

"This scroll records events from just before Leader Mu Song's death, and someone has deliberately cut out a portion." Yan Xu's aged face flushed with excitement.

"The alteration was skillfully done." The old man gently lifted the middle section of the fourth ribbon to show Mu Qingyan. "They made the cut appear as if it had been burned, then reattached it with new silk, clearly trying to conceal information about Mu Song's eldest son."

"The more someone tries to hide it, the more Nie Hengcheng would want to know," Mu Qingyan remarked.

"Exactly, Leader."

Yan Xu set down the long white ribbon and retrieved several books from the floor. "To ensure the sect's records were complete and accurate, the scribes tasked with documenting our history would first jot down everything they heard and witnessed in personal notebooks. Later, they would meticulously transcribe these notes into the official scrolls during their leisure."

He continued, "The scribe who recorded this particular period was named Qu—Qu Linglong."

Mu Qingyan looked surprised. "A woman?"

"Yes, a highly accomplished female elder." Yan Xu nodded. "Elder Qu's descendants have since withdrawn from key positions in the sect and now oversee a remote warehouse at a mountain's base. They keep her personal notebooks in a hidden chamber. When I went to inquire, they mentioned Nie Hengcheng had also requested Elder Qu's notebooks twenty years ago and took one of them."

Yan Xu spread out about a dozen books, leaving an empty space in the middle. "These volumes all pertain to events surrounding Leader Mu Song's life and death. The one Nie Hengcheng took—was about the eldest son!"

The old man's face twisted in confusion. "What could have happened to Leader Mu Song's eldest son that warranted such secrecy?"

Mu Qingyan didn't answer but instead asked, "Is this all you've uncovered?"

"No, no, not at all!" Yan Xu hurriedly replied. "This humble servant has another major discovery!" He forcefully scattered the books before him. "These are all forgeries!"

"Forged?" Mu Qingyan finally showed genuine surprise. "Explain!"Yan Xu's aged eyes gleamed with excitement: "The forger was truly cunning! Not only did they flawlessly imitate the handwriting to the point of passing off the fake as genuine, but their patience and perseverance were also unparalleled in my lifetime! To gain Nie Hengcheng's trust, they actually forged every single one of these notebooks!"

Mu Qingyan frowned. "If they could imitate someone's handwriting, why not just forge the crucial parts? Why go through the trouble of rewriting all these notebooks?"

"Your Eminence may not be aware," Yan Xu explained, "Handwriting can be imitated, but the paper and ink from a century ago are all aged artifacts. These mulberry paper notebooks were written around the same time and should show similar signs of aging. If only one of them had been forged, someone might have noticed the discrepancy. So they went the extra mile—using similarly aged mulberry paper and rewriting everything in the imitated handwriting!"

"No wonder Nie Hengcheng never suspected a thing—from an illiterate country boy to someone capable of flawlessly imitating handwriting in just a few years. Quite the talent!" Mu Qingyan murmured to himself.

"How did Elder Yan discover the flaw, then?" he asked, turning his head.

Yan Xu, brimming with pride and glowing like an old tree in spring, replied, "I meticulously studied Elder Qu's life and found that she was highly skilled in calligraphy and exceptionally beautiful, with countless admirers." At the mention of romantic affairs, the perennial bachelor couldn't help but chuckle foolishly.

Mu Qingyan shot him an annoyed glance. "Get to the point!"

"Yes, yes," Yan Xu hastily reined in his laughter. "No matter how many admirers she had, Elder Qu remained cold as ice, never showing the slightest favor to any man..."

Mu Qingyan thought to himself, If she never showed favor to any man, how did she end up with descendants? He wasn’t usually one for idle curiosity, but spending time with a certain young woman had rubbed off on him.

He smirked faintly but didn’t voice the question.

Yan Xu continued, "Back then, there was an Altar Lord in the sect who was madly in love with Elder Qu. But since the goddess remained unmoved, he took advantage of her absence to sneak into her quarters and made rubbings of her most important manuscripts!"

Mu Qingyan laughed in disbelief. "Such a technique exists? I thought only stone inscriptions could be rubbed."

"Oh, it does," Yan Xu assured him. "There’s a rare medicinal solution. You apply it to smooth sheepskin paper, press it firmly onto the original text, and when you peel it off, the ink from the original transfers onto the sheepskin, leaving an imprint."

"Wouldn’t that make the original writing fade?" Mu Qingyan asked.

"Exactly! So when Elder Qu returned, she noticed immediately and was furious, ready to punish the culprit!" Yan Xu chuckled again. "But before she could act, the Altar Lord died unexpectedly, and the matter was dropped. Ha ha, ha ha."

Mu Qingyan’s dark eyes gleamed. "Elder Yan, did you find those sheepskin papers?"

"I did!" Yan Xu eagerly rummaged through a chest and pulled out a stack of yellowed, thin papers. "The Altar Lord had a loyal subordinate who, pitying his master’s unrequited love, lied to Elder Qu, claiming the sheepskin papers were lost. In reality, they were placed in the Altar Lord’s coffin as burial goods."

Mu Qingyan narrowed his long eyes. "So you dug up his grave?"

"Now, now, serving the Sect Leader faithfully can hardly be called grave-robbing!" Yan Xu declared righteously before adding with a sheepish grin, "Besides, I reburied him afterward—not a single bone was missing."Mu Qingyan stared at the thick stack of parchment, hesitating before asking, "Why didn't Nie Hengcheng know about that Altar Lord copying Elder Qu's handwritten notes?"

"Because no outsiders knew about it in the first place!" Yan Xu exclaimed loudly. "It wasn't exactly a glorious affair, and with the person already dead, Elder Qu never brought it up again."

"Then how did you find out?"

"Can the Sect Leader guess what surname that Altar Lord's loyal subordinate had?" Yan Xu covered his mouth, snickering.

Mu Qingyan closed his eyes briefly. "Don't tell me it was Yan."

"The Sect Leader is truly prescient—that loyal subordinate was none other than this humble servant's grandfather!" Yan Xu's wrinkled old face blossomed into a chrysanthemum of delight. "When I was young, my grandfather often recounted this story to us descendants as a cautionary tale—no wonder the Altar Lord's name sounded so familiar. Truly, heaven has eyes!"

"This time, the heavens have indeed lent us a hand," Mu Qingyan chuckled lightly.

"Please review this, Sect Leader!" The old man reverently presented the parchment with both hands. "This stack records everything about Mu Song's eldest son. This humble servant couldn't fully comprehend it, but it seems the eldest son practiced some strange martial art that enraged Mu Song, nearly causing a father-son rift."

"Though I don't know what the forger wrote to Nie Hengcheng, the contents copied on this parchment must be the truth!"

As dawn's first light crept in, Cai Zhao woke on her own.

The bedding, saturated with sunlight, exuded a comforting, lazy fragrance, soft as clouds. Reaching toward the inner side of the bed, her fingers brushed against a familiar round pumpkin-shaped box by the pillow. Without opening it, she knew what lay inside—mouthwatering sweet-and-sour dried fruits, plump and chewy jerky, melt-in-your-mouth mung bean cakes...

"Oh my, what's that crunching sound? Could it be a little mouse sneaking a bite? Quick, fetch the mousetrap—let's see if we can catch its toes!"

"No, no... It's me eating! Auntie, don't trap my toes!"

Cai Zhao buried her face in the pillow, as if the gentle, teasing voice still lingered in her ears.

Opening her eyes, she found the room silent and still.

As a child, little Cai Zhao could never get enough sleep. Her aunt would slip cool hands under the covers, tugging at her ears like lifting a round, lazy kitten, urging her to practice martial arts. Back then, the warm, fragrant bedding had been her coziest refuge. Now, things felt different.

Over the past year, she had slept in many places.

The sect's bedding was clean and neat but icy cold, clearly dried by mountain winds strong enough to blow people away rather than sunlight. The beds in rural inns creaked at the slightest movement, their covers either reeking of dampness or overly dried by firewood smoke. The most bizarre was undoubtedly the Paradise Palace's enormous seashell-carved bed, adorned from headboard to footboard with gold and jade—how the Demonic Cult members could tolerate such discomfort was beyond her. Their taste was truly abysmal.

Perhaps she had grown taller—her family bed now felt oddly cramped, less comfortable than the cold, hard stone slab in the cave where she once reflected on her mistakes.Cai Zhao draped a robe over her shoulders and sat down by the table, pouring herself a cup of cold water. The slightly worn white porcelain toad-shaped incense burner had gradually cooled but still emitted the sweet, gentle fragrance of citrus. The incense cakes were made by Ning Xiaofeng using orange peels, borneol, agarwood, and crisp pears, steamed together. Before Cai Pingshu passed away, she had suffered greatly from illness, and only this incense could bring her peaceful sleep.

After downing the cold water in one gulp, Cai Zhao absentmindedly stirred the ashes in the small porcelain burner, lost in thought—

She, Song Yuzhi, and Fan Xingjia had arrived at Fallen Blossom Valley three days prior.

Seeing her parents safe and sound brought Cai Zhao immense joy. She also learned that Song Shijun had briefly regained consciousness twice, but due to his severe injuries, he had slipped back into unconsciousness.

Witnessing Song Yuzhi’s profound grief, Cai Zhao couldn’t help but console him: “Third Senior Brother, don’t be too hard on yourself. Your third granduncle was also a top-tier figure in the Martial World, and he had decades more cultivation than your father. When two such forces clash head-on, injuries are inevitable. Now, your granduncle has almost passed his seventh-day memorial, while your father at least has a chance to recover.”

Though blunt, her words held truth, and Song Yuzhi finally rallied. He devoted himself wholeheartedly to tending to his father, washing him and combing his hair, while assisting Fan Xingjia in preparing acupuncture and herbal remedies.

Late at night, when all was quiet, Cai Zhao and her parents, Cai Pingchun and Ning Xiaofeng, retreated to a secret chamber. There, she recounted every detail of her experiences over the past year.

From Cai Pingchun’s sudden disappearance in Qingque Town, to discovering Qian Xueshen, the orphan of the Thousand Faces Sect, and journeying to the distant Great Snow Mountain in the far north in search of the Snowscale Dragon Beast’s saliva—only to encounter Zhou Zhiqin, Duan Jiuxiu, and the Snow Woman along the way. This was the first time she and Mu Qingyan learned of the peripheral details surrounding the Purple Star Sutra and the story of Cai Pingshu and Mu Zhengyang.

Ning Xiaofeng was shocked: “Zhou Zhiqin actually died in the Great Snow Mountain! Sister Zhixian and the others thought he was still out there searching for his son’s remains!”

“So Chen Shu’s death twenty years ago involved such secrets!” Cai Pingchun’s expression also darkened. “Zhou Zhiqin—hmph! Even in his youth, I could tell he was merely putting on a calm facade. In truth, he was deeply resentful of Brother Zhizhen! I never imagined he’d collude with Demonic Cult fiends to cultivate forbidden techniques!”

Cai Zhao fell silent for a moment. “I promised the Snow Woman and Qian Xueshen I’d never speak of their affairs, which is why I kept it hidden.”

“…You did the right thing,” Ning Xiaofeng sighed. “Ah, they too are pitiable souls in this world. Let them live quietly in that secluded snowy realm. Sister Pingshu never mentioned a word of it either—I had no idea she’d been to the Snow Ridge.”

Next, Cai Zhao recounted her journey with Song Yuzhi to the Vast Sea Mountains to assist Mu Qingyan in quelling the Demonic Cult’s internal strife—Nie Zhe, Han Yisu, Yu Huixin, Li Ruxin, the Bone-Corroding Sky Rain, the grand labyrinthine underground palace, and the ancient legend of Mu Donglie and Luo Shiyun…

Most crucially, before Nie Zhe and Sun Ruoshui were silenced, they revealed that a mysterious mastermind had been colluding with the Demonic Cult for years. The deaths of Mu Zhengming and the bloodshed at the Chang Family Fortress were all orchestrated by this shadowy figure.

After hearing this, Ning Xiaofeng’s reaction was expected. She sighed deeply and said, “Ah, I never imagined even the Demonic Cult fiends would have such hardships. This feud has spanned generations…”Then she widened her large almond-shaped eyes and glared. "Zhao Zhao, your surname is Cai, not Luo! Don’t let those old legends fill your head with nonsense! What good could come from following a demonic cult fiend? You’d have no home to return to, no family to see, forced to hide at the ends of the earth like a wandering ghost. You better remember that!"

Cai Zhao didn’t respond with her usual quick agreement to placate her mother. After a moment of silence, she said softly, "Uncle Cai Changfeng’s notes mentioned that the ends of the earth have their own unique beauty."

Ning Xiaofeng was so furious she nearly popped her eyes out. She turned to her husband. "Xiao Chun, look at this stubborn girl—" Only then did she notice her husband’s unusual reaction.

Cai Pingchun had been lost in thought, frowning deeply. Hearing his wife, he finally looked up. "Nie Zhe actually has a son? I thought he was infertile."

Both mother and daughter were startled, though for different reasons. They quickly asked Cai Pingchun how he knew this.

"That year, Zhao Tianba sent men to steal the ancestral halberd of Brother Miao Jianshi and nearly beat the Miao uncles to death. Brother Miao was furious, so he and Elder Sister captured Nie Zhe to use as leverage against Nie Hengcheng," Cai Pingchun explained.

Ning Xiaofeng was puzzled. "How come I didn’t know about this?"

"Because it was Zhao Tianba’s condition," Cai Pingchun said. "He sent someone to tell Elder Sister that he wanted the exchange done in secret—hand over the person, and he’d return the halberd. That way, he could claim he’d been careless and the Miao family’s halberd had been taken back by Elder Sister and the others. But if word got out, given Nie Hengcheng’s ruthless nature, he’d rather abandon his useless nephew than admit defeat."

"That Zhao fellow is quite decent, willing to take the blame from his master," Cai Zhao remarked.

Cai Pingchun nodded. "All of that old demon’s disciples are filial. Though Zhao Tianba looked down on Nie Zhe, he couldn’t bear the thought of Nie Hengcheng, who had no wife or children, losing his family line."

"What happened next? What does this have to do with Nie Zhe’s infertility?" Ning Xiaofeng pressed.

"Elder Sister and Brother Miao went to negotiate with Zhao Tianba, and I was tasked with guarding Nie Zhe," Cai Pingchun continued. "At the time, Nie Zhe had some minor injuries, so I asked Old Huang to treat and bandage him. Afterward, Old Huang quietly told me, ‘That Nie boy had mumps as a child, and it left complications. He likely won’t be able to father children.’"

Ning Xiaofeng was astonished. "Old Huang? The liquor seller? Ha! So you hid Nie Zhe in Old Huang’s wine cellar!"

"Old Huang wasn’t always a liquor seller. His family had been physicians for generations, especially his mother, who specialized in pediatric ailments," Cai Pingchun explained. "Old Huang wouldn’t speak without certainty."

Ning Xiaofeng was still confused. "Then where did Nie Zhe’s son come from?"

Cai Pingchun dipped his finger in tea and drew a few lines on the table, then suddenly smiled. "It’s probably the result of an affair between Yu Huixin and Li Ruxin. Look—"

On the table, he wrote "Yu Huixin" horizontally, then "Li Ruxin" below it. He combined the character "Yin" from "Huixin" and "Xin" from "Ruxin," forming the character "En"—the same "En" in Nie Sien’s name.

Cai Zhao was impressed. "Father, you’re truly insightful. That’s exactly what happened."While resting in the small tent amidst the dense forest trees, she had once asked about the fates of Lu Fengchun and the others. Mu Qingyan had casually mentioned—Nie Zhe was indeed infertile, and Nie Sien was truly the son of Li Ruxin and Yu Huixin.

She also thought to herself, no wonder Uncle Zhou always said Father was mature beyond his years, slow in speech but wise in mind. Many things were crystal clear to Cai Pingchun, but seeing them too thoroughly left him with nothing to say.

"Daddy," Cai Zhao suddenly asked, "who else knows about Nie Zhe's condition?"

"That entire transaction was settled in less than three days. Only four of us knew the details," Cai Pingchun replied. "Your aunt despises exposing others' weaknesses, so she wouldn't speak of it. I never mentioned it. Old Huang passed away soon after from recurring old injuries, but Brother Miao..."

He hesitated. "Such unsavory, underhanded matters—Brother Miao probably wouldn't spread them around, but he might have mentioned a word or two to those close to him."

Cai Zhao held her breath. "Who was Uncle Miao closest to?"

A vague suspicion had formed in her mind. Earlier, Mu Qingyan had said the mastermind behind the scenes had coerced Lu Fengchun into rebellion by threatening to expose his stockpiling of weapons and supplies. So what had they used to blackmail Yu Huixin?

In Cai Zhao's view, Yu Huixin wasn't the ambitious, decisive type. Only a secret so damning it could ruin him utterly would have driven him to stab Hu Fengge in the back.

Mu Qingyan had also stumbled upon this secret while thoroughly investigating the traitors' strongholds. Over the decades, Li Ruxin and Yu Huixin had rarely interacted, so ordinary people wouldn't have connected the dots without reason.

"Not many, but not few either. However..." Cai Pingchun seemed to guess his daughter's thoughts. "Your master and Brother Miao's younger brother, who died young, were born in the same year and month. That's why Brother Miao took special care of your master."

Cai Zhao felt uneasy, her face paling. Seeing her father's calm expression, she couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you worried at all that the mastermind causing all this trouble might be someone very close to us?"

Cai Pingchun replied indifferently, "Fallen Blossom Valley has remained peaceful for two hundred years by keeping to itself and avoiding the conflicts of the Martial World. Without generations of detachment and indifference, we wouldn't have survived this long."

Cai Zhao felt lost. Ning Xiaofeng patted her daughter's hand, urging her to continue.

After Mu Qingyan reclaimed his sect's authority, Cai Zhao behaved quietly at Azure Tower Sect for a long time—until their visit to the Chang Family Fort for memorial rites shattered the peace again. She and Mu Qingyan discovered Lu Chengnan's underground tomb and, based on the burial artifacts, deduced the retreat of the Shi brothers. After surviving a rainy-night ambush, they were eventually taken in by the reclusive Shi clan.

Shi Tieshan relayed Lu Chengnan's dying words and the reason behind Nie Hengcheng's late-life descent into madness and slaughter—marking their second encounter with secrets related to the Purple Star Sutra .

Later, from Guo Zigui's account of past events, Mu Qingyan deduced Wang Yuanjing's deliberate failure to save Wu Yuanying. This led him to conclude that Wang Yuanjing, blackmailed over this secret, had schemed to uncover the location of the Chang Family Fort.

Thus, they decided to infiltrate Grand Beginning Temple at night and interrogate Wang Yuanjing. But their efforts fell short—just as Wang Yuanjing was about to reveal the mastermind's identity, he was assassinated.

What happened next was known to all.Mentioning Guo Zigui inevitably brought another wave of sorrow to Ning Xiaofeng.

Cai Pingchun gave his daughter a pointed look and suddenly asked an unrelated question, "So Mu Qingyan had already invited you to investigate the Chang family massacre together—when Zhou Yuqi abruptly started crying and demanding to break off the engagement, did Mu Qingyan have a hand in it?"

Cai Zhao felt quite awkward: "Oh, Father! We're discussing serious matters here—don't go off on tangents!"

Ning Xiaofeng wiped her tears and laughed. "You two, father and daughter—honestly!"

She continued, "Earlier you suspected Qi Yunke might have learned from Brother Miao that Nie Zhe was infertile. But during Yin Dai's gathering to storm the Nether Bamboo Path, Qi Yunke didn't go at all. So he couldn't have seen Wang Yuanjing enter the Eight-Claw Heavenly Prison and subsequently blackmail him. Also, on the night Wang Yuanjing was killed, Qi Yunke was with us the whole time talking about Zhao Zhao's marriage and praising Song Yuzhi endlessly—he never left our side. And..."

She hesitated slightly, "Just now I suddenly remembered. Brother Miao's mother—her surname was Zhou, from a collateral branch of Jade Pendant Mountain Manor. Strictly speaking, Brother Miao and Zhou Zhizhen are cousins. Could it be...?"

Ning Xiaofeng trailed off, but the father-daughter pair understood her implication—Zhou Zhizhen might also have known about Nie Zhe's infertility. Moreover, on the night Wang Yuanjing was killed, he was resting alone in his room without any alibi.

"Ah, why does it keep circling back to Uncle Zhou," Cai Zhao murmured. "I originally suspected the elders from Third Senior Brother's family too. Whether it was his father Sect Leader Song or his great-uncle—both had high cultivation, great influence, and seemed quite ambitious. But now with one dead and the other injured, it definitely can't be them..."

With the path ahead shrouded in mist, Cai Zhao could only continue her account.

This time, she revealed Yin Dai's secretly kept personal journals in full and deduced the final secret of the Purple Star Sutra—three passes with three challenges. Only then did the Cai couple understand why their daughter was so determined to investigate the Blood Marsh.

Hearing how Yin Dai had stood by and let Cai Pingshu alone ascend Tu Mountain to slay Nie Hengcheng, Ning Xiaofeng's eyes turned red with rage. She slammed the table: "That old fraud Yin Dai deceived the world to steal fame, abused his power, and forced my sister Ping Shu to fight that old villain Nie to the death, leaving her disabled for life! Tell Qi Yunke to give up—with Song Yuzhi carrying half of Yin blood in him, he can forget about becoming my son-in-law!"

"Alright, alright, the sins of the father shouldn't fall upon the children," Cai Pingchun soothed his wife into sitting down. "If Yuzhi hadn't selflessly handed over Yin Dai's journals, we wouldn't know any of this."

He turned, "Zhao Zhao, what are your plans now? To find the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower?"

Cai Zhao nodded, taking out a paper with the plant's sketch from her waist pouch. "Before I didn't dare search, thinking if Aunt was determined to hide something, it should remain lost to the world. Now that all the Night Orchids in the Blood Marsh are destroyed, even with the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower one couldn't practice the Purple Star Sutra anymore. Having someone like Song Xiuzhi occupying Vast Heaven Gate's leadership is no blessing for the world. It's better to help Third Senior Brother recover his power quickly and retake the sect leader position."

Ning Xiaofeng examined the drawing left and right. "This is the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower? It looks like a lump of black rock."

Cai Zhao quickly explained: "Originally it was said to have a circle of gleaming golden sunflower petals, but the Demonic Cult didn't preserve it well. After a great fire, all the gold melted away, leaving it like this."

After studying the drawing twice, Cai Pingchun made the decision: "Very well. In the coming days we'll search through the town and valley thoroughly to see if we can uncover this Purple Jade Golden Sunflower."The cold water in the teapot had been completely drunk, and the incense ashes in the small white porcelain burner had been stirred until not a single spark remained. Furong knocked on the door outside with a giggle, "Young Mistress, time to wake up! The sun is shining on your—"

"Young Mistress is grown now. Stop saying such unrefined things," Feicui interrupted her mildly, then proceeded to pound on the door with thunderous force. "You told us to wake you yesterday! If you don't get up now, I'll pour cold water on you!"

Cai Zhao sighed dramatically to the heavens and opened the door with a stern face. "Once everything is settled, I must introduce you two to a Demonic Cult girl named Xing Er—now that's what a proper maidservant should be like: soft-spoken, gentle, and considerate. Unlike you two, fierce and menacing, domineering and arrogant. Even pigs would die of anger if raised by you!"

The two maids remained utterly unperturbed, both inwardly and outwardly, clapping their hands in unison.

"Well said, Young Mistress. Thank you for the praise. After I'm married, I'll open a pig farm. Then, during festivals, I'll make sure to stuff a couple of extra fat sausages for you to try."

"The Demonic Cult leader wouldn't go green-eyed at the sight of a pig, so clearly Feicui and I have raised you much better than that. It's just a shame we always have to flee and hide—this time, as soon as things looked bad, we had to escape overnight back to Fallen Blossom Valley."

"...Enough. Let's just do my hair and get dressed." Since childhood, Cai Zhao had never won an argument against these two formidable women.

The sky was overcast today, with a fine drizzle falling. Cai Zhao wandered aimlessly through the town under an oil-paper umbrella until she arrived at a familiar wonton stall. She sat down and ordered a bowl.

After taking a couple of spoonfuls, she frowned. "Auntie, the broth doesn't taste right. Did you dilute the bone stock? I won’t even complain about whether the filling is made from front-leg or hind-leg meat, but the scallions—how many times have I told you? Scallions must be freshly chopped, not cut the night before. Look how limp they are now..."

The stall owner threw her ladle into the iron pot with a loud clang and began shouting, "Little Zhao, you've been eating wontons here since you were weaned, always saying, 'So good, the best wontons in the world!' Now that you're grown, you’ve started looking down on us! Even Wen Dalang, the pancake seller, and Zu Erniang, the bun vendor, came crying to me—saying you complained the pancakes weren’t soft enough the day before yesterday, and yesterday you griped about the bun filling not being pure enough!"

"Everyone, listen to this! This little girl grew up eating our food, and now she’s suddenly picky about everything. Isn’t this just like the opera saying, 'Only the new love laughs, while the old love weeps'? I know, Little Zhao, you’ve been out and seen the world now, and our poor little town isn’t good enough for you anymore. Oh dear, how can we go on like this...?"

The stall owner’s booming voice could be heard all the way down the street, forcing Cai Zhao to beat a hasty retreat.

Having been scolded and still hungry, she wandered aimlessly again in the drizzling rain.

The smooth, even cobblestone paths, every shop, every corner—she could find them all blindfolded. This was her hometown, both familiar and strange, as if everything were the same yet everything had changed.

Or perhaps, it was she who had changed?

Deep in the mountain estate, You Guanyue and Shangguan Haonan whispered to each other, keeping well outside the door."The sect leader has been reviewing files for three days now, and still hasn't finished? Elder Yan said there was only one stack."

"Elder Yan did indeed only submit one stack, but then the sect leader ordered us to bring other files for comparison. Who knows how long this will take."

"Oh dear, it's raining."

"Just a drizzle, quite poetic and misty."

"Poetic my foot! Xing Er hates this kind of weather the most—nothing ever dries properly."

"Look, look! The sect leader opened the window! He's standing motionless, watching something—is he watching the rain? Could it be the sect leader likes rainy days?"

"No way."

"How would you know! Are you a mind reader or something?"

"Whether the sect leader likes it or not, Miss Zhao Zhao certainly doesn't, because rain interferes with her shopping. So the sect leader wouldn't like it either."

"...Alright, you've got a point."

Cai Zhao trudged back to the valley in low spirits and ran into Fan Xingjia reporting to Cai Pingchun and his wife about Song Shijun's condition. After a long-winded explanation of all the required medicinal ingredients, he quietly added that while the Song sect leader could indeed be saved, the excessive damage to his meridians and Core Essence would likely shorten his lifespan.

After Fan Xingjia left, Ning Xiaofeng murmured, "Why does that sound so familiar?"

"That's exactly what the physician said when diagnosing Elder Sister back then," Cai Pingchun immediately responded.

At the mention of Cai Pingshu, Ning Xiaofeng was overcome with grief. She looked at Song Shijun lying unconscious on the bed, unshaven and sallow, and sighed, "This fellow sailed through life so smoothly, always so arrogant and punchable. Who'd have thought he'd meet such misfortune in his old age. Alas, they're flesh and blood—how could Song Xiuzhi be so ruthless? Normally so quiet, then suddenly goes for the kill without warning!"

Cai Pingchun offered no comment and instead asked his daughter, "Have you found any leads on the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower?"

Cai Zhao held up three fingers. "I've practically turned that mansion in town upside down these past three days—nothing."

Ning Xiaofeng said, "Your father has combed through the valley these three days too, also finding nothing. Could your aunt have already sent the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower out of Fallen Blossom Valley?"

"Mother, do you think the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower is some kind of treasure? Something so prone to causing trouble—if Auntie were alive, she'd never have passed such misfortune to others. I think she must have hidden it before her death, or perhaps entrusted it to someone? Ugh, of all times for me to be bedridden for three days, knowing nothing."

"You're not the only one who thinks so—whoever's behind this probably also believes Elder Sister entrusted the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower to someone," Cai Pingchun said as he poured his wife a cup of hot tea. "Over these three days, I've carefully reviewed the past year or so and finally figured some things out."

He looked up. "Who exactly came to attend Elder Sister's funeral rites, and from which sects."

Ning Xiaofeng counted on her fingers: "We didn't make it public, so not many came—all five North Star sects were present, Brother Chang, the senior monks from Evergreen Temple, and the Green Bamboo Gang at the entrance. Even my mother stumbled her way here to offer incense."Cai Pingchun said, "The mastermind behind this knows Elder Sister very well. They knew that to avoid implicating us, she would never leave the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower in Fallen Blossom Valley after her death. Instead, she would entrust it to someone completely trustworthy yet utterly unexpected. And this person must be among those who attended her funeral that year."

Cai Zhao's heart trembled: "Who could that be?"

"Let me ask you both—if you were Elder Sister, who would you entrust the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower to?" Cai Pingchun asked his wife and daughter.

"Me?" Ning Xiaofeng was taken aback. "Hmm, I'd probably give it to..." Her eyes rolled playfully. "The most dangerous place is the safest—I'd secretly bury it in that old bastard Yang Heying's ancestral tomb! No one would ever think to look there!"

Cai Zhao burst into laughter. "Hahahaha, Mother, you're hilarious!"

"What's so funny? What's wrong with my idea?"

"Auntie couldn't bear to destroy the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower precisely because she feared someone might need it someday. If it were buried in the Yang family tomb, that black lump of stone would get lost in the dirt—even ghosts couldn't find it! How is that any different from destroying it?"

"Then you come up with something better!" Ning Xiaofeng snapped.

Cai Zhao pondered. "Normally, the best choices would be Master or Uncle Zhou. Their cultivation is profound, and they command enough influence to protect the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower."

Cai Pingchun countered, "What if your aunt grew suspicious of them?"

Cai Zhao froze.

Cai Pingchun spoke deliberately. "That Sect Leader Mu made a valid point—the mastermind went to such lengths to slaughter the entire Chang family because Brother Chang must have discovered something. Even without proof, what if he shared his suspicions with your aunt?"

Ning Xiaofeng gasped. "So she couldn't entrust it to Qi Yunke, Zhou Zhizhen, Song Shijun, Qiu Yuanfeng, or Yang Heying—each one less reliable than the last. That leaves..." She nearly blurted it out.

"So Brother Chang died," Cai Pingchun gently interrupted his wife. "The night the Chang family was massacred, they must have scoured the Chang stronghold and found nothing."

"Then who else could it be?" Ning Xiaofeng racked her brains, then brightened. "Ah! Fakong!"

"That's why, after Old Ancestor Bei Chen's memorial ceremony, Nie Zhe inexplicably sent men to ambush us on our return," Cai Pingchun said. "Only Evergreen Temple was attacked right at its doorstep—its gates breached, multiple buildings set ablaze."

Cai Zhao's pupils constricted. "So the other ambushes were diversions? Evergreen Temple was their real target?"

"Exactly. Well reasoned, Zhao Zhao," Cai Pingchun praised. "If I'm not mistaken, the mastermind has already searched Evergreen Temple by now—and still found nothing."

"After repeated failures, their last resort was to trap Third Senior Brother with the Netherworld Chill, forcing us to find the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower for them." Cai Zhao shuddered. "Father, you're brilliant."

"...After all this talk," Ning Xiaofeng flipped her palms up, "may I ask you two geniuses where that black stone actually is?"

Father and daughter fell silent.

After a long pause, Cai Zhao sighed. "I'll keep looking around."

Watching his daughter's slender figure disappear through the door, Cai Pingchun suddenly murmured, "If Mu Qingyan never commits grave evil... and Zhao Zhao truly loves him... then let them be. Even eloping wouldn't be out of the question."Ning Xiaofeng nearly choked on her tea. "What are you talking about! My precious Zhao Zhao will have a grand wedding with a ten-mile red dowry and feasts for all guests when she marries! Sneaking off in secret? Have you lost your mind!"

Cai Pingchun sighed. "Don't you find it strange? Song Yuzhi was afflicted with Netherworld Chill over a year ago, yet Zhao Zhao only returned to Fallen Blossom Valley to search for the cure now."

Ning Xiaofeng's lips trembled slightly.

Cai Pingchun continued, "She knew her elder sister hid the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower for good reason. No matter how desperately Song Yuzhi wanted to be cured, Zhao Zhao never truly intended to help him find it. Only after all the Night Orchids in Blood Marsh were destroyed—eliminating any future concerns—did she seriously consider searching for the treasure."

He chuckled faintly. "In this regard, Zhao Zhao truly takes after the people of Fallen Blossom Valley—cold to the bone."

"You're the same. Both father and daughter only care about your own family," Ning Xiaofeng murmured. "Ah, only Ping Shu had a heart full of warmth."

"Those with warm hearts die young. Was Brother Chang's heart not warm? Alas, only cold hearts endure." Cai Pingchun patted his wife's shoulder. "But Zhao Zhao is different with Mu Qingyan."

"Mu Qingyan climbed Snow Ridge with her to obtain the Snowscale Dragon Beast's saliva. They went to Blood Marsh together—he could have easily stolen cuttings of the Night Orchid mother plant when Zhao Zhao wasn't looking. With the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower, that would be enough to cultivate dark arts. Yet Zhao Zhao never doubted him for a moment."

"Some things don't disappear just because we refuse to think about them."

Ning Xiaofeng's heart twisted with worry. "...Why must she be entangled with that Mu family again?"

Cai Zhao wandered through the damp valley for half a day before slipping into Cai Pingshu's old residence.

When she was alive, Cai Pingshu would bring young Cai Zhao back to the valley for short stays during spring blossoms or autumn leaves.

Cai Zhao peeled off her soaked outer robe and tumbled into Cai Pingshu's bed.

Though nearly five years had passed since her death, Ning Xiaofeng kept the room immaculate—soft dry bedding, polished furniture, even fresh cosmetics in the vanity case—as if awaiting Cai Pingshu's return from her travels in the Martial World.

Mother probably will never accept Aunt's passing—

Drowsy thoughts swirled as exhaustion from the past fortnight overwhelmed her. Memories flashed like a revolving lantern until settling on Li Wenxun's words:

"I feared wild paths midway, that messenger pigeons might leak information..."

Why did this sentence trouble her so? What was wrong with it?

"Wild paths midway, messenger pigeons leak information..."

Pigeons could be released mid-journey—well-trained ones could still find their destination. But even Evergreen Temple, renowned for pigeon training, struggled to make pigeons land precisely in a traveler's hand. That required hunting birds like gyrfalcons.

"Feared midway, pigeons... information..."

Cai Zhao jolted upright, forehead slick with cold sweat, heart pounding like thunder.

She threw on her outer robe and dashed through the rain to the pigeon coop, startling the Cai couple who were enjoying the rainy view from their window. They hurried after their daughter with umbrellas.

Cai Zhao burst into the pigeon shed and began rummaging frantically."Zhao Zhao, what's wrong?" Ning Xiaofeng rushed in breathlessly, "You're not even dressed properly, a grown girl shouldn't..."

"Don't speak yet," Cai Pingchun soothed his wife before turning to his daughter, "Zhao Zhao, you tell us."

"Father, Mother." Cai Zhao turned around, covered in gray-white pigeon down, "I think I might know where the Purple Jade Golden Sunflower is."

In the pitch-dark hall, a single lamp flickered weakly.

Mu Qingyan pushed aside the scattered documents before him, stood up, and forcefully opened the thick wooden window shutters. A mountain breeze carrying fine rain wildly rushed into the vast hall, scattering the documents across the table and sending them flying everywhere.

The tall, handsome young man stood by the window, letting the cold wind and rain drench him completely: "So that's how it is... heh heh, so that's how it is..."

At that moment, You Guanyue's hurried voice suddenly came from outside—"Lord, urgent news!"

"Come in and speak."

You Guanyue carefully pushed open the door and bowed to report from the doorway: "Over a dozen people in disguises have emerged from Fallen Blossom Valley. They took boats along waterways, heading in different directions."

"Which route did Zhao Zhao take?"

"Northwest direction... seems to be heading toward our Nether Bamboo Path."

"Not the Nether Bamboo Path." Mu Qingyan turned around, his eyes cold and clear, "It's the Hanging Temple."