A Decade of Nightscape Lights

The Vermilion Bird Altar was destroyed, and its Altar Lord Xiong Qianjin was torn apart alive by enraged villagers. Additionally, a considerable number of captives were taken. Whether these people were to be killed or spared depended entirely on Mu Qingyan's decision. You Guanyue stood tall and proud to the left of the Altar Lord's throne, instructing his subordinates to bring the captives forward one by one for Mu Qingyan to deal with.

First to be brought forward was the bound-up Left Deputy Altar Lord Zhang Xun. He flashed a coquettish smile at Mu Qingyan, who sat calmly above him—a smile so dazzling that even You Guanyue, who had been locked in years of open and covert strife with this scoundrel, had to admit his extraordinary beauty.

Mu Qingyan didn’t even bat an eyelid. "Crooked mouth and slanted eyes. Kill him."

You Guanyue was stunned.

Next was the severely wounded Right Deputy Altar Lord Li Zhang, known for his perceptiveness and meticulousness. The moment he saw Mu Qingyan, he offered to hand over Xiong Qianjin’s secret treasury and persuade the neighboring Azure Dragon Altar’s Lord to surrender to Mu Qingyan.

Mu Qingyan flicked his fingers. "Ignorant of the times. Kill him."

"?" You Guanyue.

Then came Xiong Qianjin’s trusted aides, A, B, C, and D.

"Thievish eyes and furtive glances. Kill him."

"Double-dealing. Kill him."

"Can’t tell grains apart. Kill him."

"Lazy and idle. Kill him—"

"Wait, wait!" You Guanyue couldn’t take it anymore. "He’s one of Xiong Qianjin’s top fighters—how could he be lazy and idle?!"

Mu Qingyan gave an indifferent "Oh." "In that case, break his limbs before killing him."

"..." You Guanyue was at a loss. "No, Young Lord, you’re not planning to kill all of them, are you?"

"Why not?" Mu Qingyan actually seemed more puzzled than he was. "Didn’t you already screen them earlier? The ones left are all repeat offenders of sect rules, steeped in blood debts."

You Guanyue forced an awkward smile. "An altar as large as the Vermilion Bird needs people to maintain it, inside and out."

Mu Qingyan: "Isn’t that what you’re here for? Wang Tianfeng seems quite capable—a few years of experience, and he’ll be able to handle things on his own."

You Guanyue was momentarily pleased but cautiously advised, "Thank you for your trust in us, Young Lord. Still, it’d be better to keep a few of the original members. After all, their skills are—"

"What’s the point of keeping them?" Mu Qingyan cut him off. "So the surrounding villagers can continue to resent us? Or so they can remain half-hearted and secretly collude with Nie Zhe?"

You Guanyue paused. "You have a point, Young Lord. But if we kill them all, what happens to the Vermilion Bird Altar? If the Big Dipper Six Sects attack now, what should we do?"

"Then disband the Vermilion Bird Altar for now."

"Young Lord!" You Guanyue was horrified.

Mu Qingyan waved his hand, and Lian Shisan led his men to deal with the remaining captives.

You Guanyue followed Mu Qingyan into the empty back hall, his heart uneasy. "Young Lord, I’ve asked too many questions. I should follow your orders without question, just like Brother Shisan—"

Mu Qingyan raised a hand to stop him.

He walked to the window. "Last night, before and after we stormed the Vermilion Bird Palace, I ordered you to leave an opening in the northeast corner so that the less steadfast followers could escape. At the time, you advised me, 'When surrounding the enemy, leave them an escape route—but afterward, block it. We should station some men in the northeast to ambush and kill them along the way.' But I didn’t agree.""This time, I didn’t come with overwhelming force. I had no authority in the sect before, so those who fled at the sight of such a small force—what need is there to exterminate them? Later, as Xiong Qianjin’s decline became increasingly evident, more fled when they saw the situation turning unfavorable. Those who remained till the end, whether captured or killed, were all die-hard loyalists to Nie Zhe and Xiong Qianjin. What use is there in keeping them?"

You Guanyue’s eyes gleamed with realization: "So the Young Master had already sifted through the followers of the Vermilion Bird Altar. How lamentable that this lowly one was so shortsighted."

Mu Qingyan nodded. "Thanks to Nie Zhe, the Big Dipper Six Sects are now in a state of panic. Their leaders are either busy purging internal affairs or still recovering. They won’t dare provoke our sect for at least half a year. Even if someone attempts a sneak attack, we’ll hold this place if we can—otherwise, we’ll withdraw our forces. This applies not just to the Vermilion Bird Altar, but also to the Azure Dragon, White Tiger, and Black Tortoise Altars."

After a brief pause, You Guanyue smiled faintly. "The Young Master is determined to abolish the old and establish the new."

Mu Qingyan turned to him. "When Nie Hengcheng died, you were already of age. Do you think the Nether Sect under Nie Hengcheng was the same as it is now under Nie Zhe?"

You Guanyue chuckled. "How can fireflies compare to the bright moon?" Then, as if catching himself, he added, "Even Nie Hengcheng had such influence. One can imagine how much more formidable the Divine Sect must have been under the Mu family’s leadership."

Mu Qingyan smiled. "No need to flatter. Nie Hengcheng may have wronged the Mu family, but he did no disservice to the Divine Sect. During his decades of leadership, he nurtured the sect into great prosperity—something my great-grandfather and grandfather could not match."

You Guanyue secretly rejoiced. Though the new lord was young, he was strategic, meticulous, and—rarely—broad-minded.

—Yet, just a few days later, he would add the qualifier "when handling serious matters" to this judgment. The frustrating part was that this new lord seldom devoted much effort to "serious matters."

Mu Qingyan gazed at the distant mountains beyond the window. "The Divine Sect did not arise because of these vast mountains and grand palaces. It was built by generations of visionary leaders and loyal followers. As long as we remain united, the future holds great promise."

You Guanyue, ever sharp-witted, finally grasped Mu Qingyan’s resolve. Beaming, he bowed deeply and said earnestly, "This subordinate understands now. The Young Master’s brilliance and foresight are unparalleled in my experience. Henceforth, I shall follow your commands without hesitation—"

"No need for that." Mu Qingyan sounded almost weary, his tone languid. "Shisan has been straightforward and stubborn since childhood, acting without second thoughts. You, on the other hand, are meticulous and shrewd. With Elder Chou gone, you’ve lost your backing in the sect, so it’s natural for you to overthink things. That’s not your fault—but you may leave now."

You Guanyue froze.

Mu Qingyan glanced back. "Your smile right now is uglier than a ghost’s."

You Guanyue stiffened, suddenly aware of his swollen, pig-like face, and hastily retreated in a fluster.

After he left, Lian Shisan emerged from the shadows, pursing his lips. "That man talks too much. The Young Master must have exhausted this month’s patience. If you shut yourself in silence for days again, Uncle will surely worry.""The grand matter isn't finished yet, I won't shut myself indoors." Mu Qingyan gazed listlessly out the window, the morning light casting a glow on half of his handsome face. "You Guanyue is indeed troublesome, but intelligent people are never easy to tame. Elder Chou was once mighty and awe-inspiring, with countless disciples under him, yet now only a few like You Guanyue and Wang Tianfeng still secretly pay respects to him."

"By the way, has Uncle returned?" he suddenly asked.

"He came back several days ago and has already returned to 'Fleeting Beauty.'"

Mu Qingyan lowered his eyelashes, his expression unreadable. "Did Uncle leave anything behind?"

Lian Shisan replied, "The old man just told the young master to be more careful."

Mu Qingyan turned around in displeasure. "You should learn from You Guanyue to use your brain more. Don't get stuck in a pit and not know how to climb out. Since I already knew it was his usual nagging, I was clearly asking if Uncle left anything new!"

Lian Shisan racked his brains. "...Oh, right! Uncle said, 'Wontons should be made and eaten fresh. If left too long after wrapping, they lose their flavor, and the eater will get angry.' What does that mean?"

A glimmer of light flashed in Mu Qingyan's eyes, and a subtle aura of joy slowly emanated around him, blooming like a flower in an unnoticed corner.

Had You Guanyue been present, he would have surely noticed. Unfortunately, Lian Shisan remained oblivious and bluntly asked, "With the fall of the Vermilion Bird Altar, one of the great headquarters, I wonder how Nie Zhe will respond?"

"A response is certain. As for what it will be..." Mu Qingyan smiled. "I can roughly guess."

...

You Guanyue silently lamented in front of the mirror for half the night, enduring the pain as he reset his broken nose. He had his personal maid fetch the most precious ointment and applied it to his face himself. After half a day of rubbing, the reflection in the mirror remained a ghastly sight.

The maid wept sorrowfully, and You Guanyue snapped, "What are you crying for? Stop crying! At least now I can decide who I sleep with—isn't that a good thing?! Now get out and eat. If you starve to death, who's going to serve me?!"

You Guanyue had originally planned to hide in his room for a few days until he recovered enough to show his face, but Nie Zhe wouldn't allow him to lie low. One after another, Mu Qingyan sent two women, forcing the ever-worrying Young Master You to make an appearance.

The first woman was about seventeen or eighteen, with almond-shaped eyes, peach-blossom cheeks, and a slender waist. When she lifted her head, her beauty was startling. She knelt timidly before Mu Qingyan, not daring to utter a word, looking utterly pitiful.

"Your name is Chou Cuilan?" You Guanyue asked sternly.

The woman answered timidly, "...Yes."

"You claim to be Elder Chou's granddaughter?"

"Yes."

"What did Nie Zhe send you here for?"

Tears welled up in Chou Cuilan's eyes. "He told me to serve Young Master Mu."

At this, Mu Qingyan seemed utterly delighted. Resting his slender fingers on his forehead, he chuckled uncontrollably. "...What a poor imitation. Nie Hengcheng should see what Nie Zhe has become."

You Guanyue understood Nie Zhe's intentions but was still conflicted.

Though Elder Chou had a fiery temper and was quick to anger, he was fiercely protective of those under his wing and took great care in teaching them martial arts. After falling into the hands of traffickers, the few years under Elder Chou's guidance were the only time You Guanyue had felt safe. He held some affection for the old man.

"Young Master, what do you think...?" he hesitated.

Mu Qingyan said, "Kill her."

"??" You Guanyue exclaimed, "Young Master!"

Chou Cuilan froze in terror."Elder Chou never had a daughter, only a child with his late wife who married far away long ago," Mu Qingyan said dismissively.

You Guanyue hurried to explain, "No, no, Elder Chou did have a daughter, born to a maidservant he took in his later years."

Mu Qingyan sighed faintly, "You see, losing virtue in old age is worse than a prostitute reforming. What’s the point of taking a maidservant at that age? It’s just indecent. But kill her anyway—Elder Chou’s daughter had no kin left. Where did this one come from?"

You Guanyue nearly choked—so you knew Elder Chou had a daughter all along!

"Wait, wait! Though Elder Chou’s daughter had no kin, he had several favored maidservants around her. After Elder Chou passed, his daughter lived aimlessly for two years before dying drunk. A few months later, one of his maidservants gave birth to a posthumous child, whom Elder Tianji, Hu Fengge, arranged to be adopted."

"Is that so?" Mu Qingyan said lightly. "She looks nothing like Elder Chou—she must be a spy Nie Zhe sent to gather secrets. To be safe, kill her."

"Young Lord," You Guanyue said helplessly, "I’ve seen her from afar. She really is Cui Lan."

"Fine, fine." Mu Qingyan waved indifferently at the young girl kneeling on the ground.

Cui Lan trembled in fear as she crawled forward to kneel beside Mu Qingyan’s seat.

Resting his chin on his hand, Mu Qingyan gave her a casual smile, dazzling like pearls and jade. "I like clever girls. Are you clever?"

Cui Lan seemed dazed, nodding blankly. "...Cui Lan will learn to be clever for the Young Lord."

Mu Qingyan chuckled. "Good. Then I’ll be blunt—I’m about to attack the White Tiger Hall, then the Azure Dragon and Black Tortoise Altars, and finally Paradise Palace. I’ll kill Nie Zhe and reclaim the sect leader’s seat. So don’t rush to place your bets. Watch a little longer. Understood?"

Cui Lan kowtowed in confusion.

After the girl was led away, You Guanyue hesitated. "Young Lord, even if we can’t kill her out of respect for Elder Chou, we should send her far away to avoid trouble."

Mu Qingyan laughed softly. "The real Cui Lan died at five. When I first entered the sect years ago, Nie Zhe hastily found a pretty girl around the same age to impersonate her. But before he could train and deploy her, I escaped, and she was never used."

"So that’s it!" You Guanyue gasped. "Then she must be eliminated at once!"

"No rush." Mu Qingyan smiled. "She’s pretty and a good actress. Nie Zhe put effort into training her—let’s not waste it."

You Guanyue was both shocked and impressed, finding Mu Qingyan inscrutable and not daring to ask more.

The next day, Nie Zhe sent another girl. You Guanyue nearly smashed his mirror in fury—since when did beauty traps come one after another? Storming out, he resolved to vet this new fox for his young lord.

But this time, it wasn’t a delicate maiden—it was an exquisitely beautiful middle-aged woman with a name that sent shivers: Sun Ruoshui. One of the beauties Nie Hengcheng had sent to Mu Zhengming over twenty years ago, and the only one who succeeded.

Mu Qingyan’s birth mother.

You Guanyue couldn’t even speak now, wishing he’d never left his room.

Sun Ruoshui’s story was no secret among the sect’s higher-ups.When Mu Zhengming was young, he had an elderly tutor who left the Vast Sea Mountains not long after to live in seclusion far away. After a plague, the tutor's whereabouts became unknown. To control Mu Zhengming, Nie Hengcheng went to great lengths to find the tutor's only remaining descendant. After years of grooming, he sent her to Mu Zhengming's side.

At that time, Mu Zhengming was full of youthful vigor and remembered his old tutor's kindness, so he naturally regarded Sun Ruoshui with special favor. Moreover, her beauty was peerless, rare in the world. The young man and woman spent their days and nights together, and before long, they married. Five or six months later, Mu Qingyan was born.

Elder Chou was furious and cursed loudly, but Nie Hengcheng was immensely pleased.

However, what no one expected was that Sun Ruoshui's heart did not belong to Mu Zhengming but to Nie Zhe, with whom she had grown up since childhood.

In Nie Hengcheng's eyes, Sun Ruoshui was merely a convenient tool. The woman his nephew had formally married was Li Ruxin, the daughter of his long-deceased sworn brother. Under the iron rule of his uncle, Nie Zhe didn't dare utter a word of protest.

Later, Elder Chou died under mysterious circumstances, Mu Zhengming was inexplicably severely wounded and disappeared, and a few months later, Nie Hengcheng was also killed by Cai Pingshu. Zhao Tianba and Han Yisu rallied their forces for a frenzied revenge, only to meet their doom by the Green Gauze River shortly after.

This series of bloody, corpse-strewn chaos fulfilled Sun Ruoshui's deepest wish.

She abandoned her infant son with a nursemaid and eagerly moved in with Nie Zhe. Though Nie Zhe, wary of public opinion, dared not be intimate with her, Sun Ruoshui was content just to see her beloved often.

Not long after, Mu Zhengming reappeared, taking away his five-year-old son and sending her a letter of divorce. She formally married Nie Zhe as a secondary wife, living the glorious life of a (acting) sect leader's wife, surrounded by attendants—utterly delightful.

Strangely, after becoming husband and wife, their relationship soured. Nie Zhe often scolded Sun Ruoshui, neglecting and ignoring her.

Now middle-aged, Sun Ruoshui remained beautiful.

Weeping, she lamented how she missed her son, how Nie Zhe prevented her from seeing him, how her heart ached, and how difficult life had been since Mu Qingyan turned against Nie Zhe over a year ago. She hoped this visit might turn swords into plowshares, and so on...

Mu Qingyan stood like a statue of frozen salt, silently listening to the woman's lies, which no one would believe.

"Maybe I should kill her too," he said coldly.

You Guanyue didn't dare utter a word, forcing an awkward chuckle.

Sun Ruoshui gasped in shock. "You—you unfilial son! How could you—"

A quick-witted maid at her side tried to mediate. "Madam, don't be upset. The young master is only joking. Blood is thicker than water, after all. He came from your womb—how could he possibly... Ah!"

A piercing scream. Warm, thick blood pooled on the ground as the maid collapsed, a sword slash from left shoulder to right waist exposing bone, her entrails spilling out. Sun Ruoshui crumpled in terror, nearly losing control of her bladder.

Mu Qingyan placed his silver-moon-like sword on the table, crouched before Sun Ruoshui, and said slowly, "Spare me the act of motherly love. We both know exactly what we are. You don’t deserve to be called a mother. The only reason I tolerate you—and will support you until your death—isn’t because you birthed me. It’s because I promised Father."

"So don’t push me to break that promise and kill you. Our Divine Sect has no taboos against kin-slaying. Understood?"

Sun Ruoshui nodded frantically in terror.Mu Qingyan turned his head. "Guanyue, do you have any Soul Confusion Needles on you? Give her a few pricks. We'll be taking action tomorrow—can't let her ruin things."

You Guanyue acted as if granted amnesty, hurriedly nodding that yes, yes, he had them—and if he didn't, he'd grind needles from an iron pestle overnight if needed!

That night, Mu Qingyan dreamed of something he hadn't in a long time.

Before the age of five, he didn’t know his own name or who he was.

The other children in the tenement all had fathers and mothers—even if their parents had died outside, they at least knew who they were. Only he didn’t, as if living in a fog of chaos. Yet he understood things early, and this unknown uncertainty filled him with immense fear.

No one told him not to step outside the broken-down house. The stiff bedding, the cold walls, the days of hunger and occasional fullness—no matter how much he cried, no one came. Sometimes, he’d crouch and watch ants in the cracks of the floor, envying even them.

On sunny days, he’d stretch his frostbitten little fingers through the gaps in the window bars, trying to grasp a sliver of warmth.

But it was always in vain.

He grew to five years old in this ignorance, barely able to babble a few words, emaciated, pale, and sickly—hardly resembling a human child.

"Ah, what a sin. Raising him like this—might as well just kill him," the old women passing by would often mutter.

"Shut your mouth, old hag. Is this something we can talk about?" her husband would scold in a low voice. "He’s still a descendant of the Mu family. Killing him would be ugly, but raising him properly risks future trouble. This way is best—even if he grows up, he’ll just be a useless wretch!"

"Tsk, his own mother lives in luxury, draped in silks, and never even asks if her child is alive or dead. How heartless!"

"That woman was always a wolf-hearted, dog-lunged creature—just good at deceiving men with her looks!"

Five-year-old Mu Qingyan didn’t understand the meaning of these words, but he remembered them clearly.

His memory had always been sharp.

He remembered it was a drizzly evening, the sky dark and green, puddles dripping. Lice had infested his tangled hair, biting until he was sore and itchy, and he scratched at his scalp with chipped nails until it was covered in scabs.

But the small, frail child didn’t cry—because he knew no one would come.

Then, a tall man pushed open the door of the broken-down house and gently gathered him into his arms.

The man studied him carefully, called him 'Yan,' stroked his thin limbs, his eyes full of heartache.

From then on, he had a father—and a name.

Father bathed him, shaved his head, fed him, rubbed medicinal paste on every frostbitten spot, and taught him to speak, write, and practice martial arts.

Father also guided him through books, seeking knowledge in ancient texts, watching the sun rise and set, feeling the wondrous sensation of Inner Force flowing through his meridians. Father wanted him to be graceful in bearing, refined in speech—lofty as mountains, profound as the sea—to appreciate the beauty of the world and the rhythm of the changing seasons.

Most importantly, Father told him, 'Yan is the smartest, most understanding child in this world. To have a son like you brings me great joy.'

Whenever he thought back on those days, what Mu Qingyan felt most was not happiness, but grief for his father—and a deep, lingering fear.

An abiding terror.

He often wondered: What if Father hadn’t survived his grave injuries and had died alone in some cave? What if Father, disheartened, had simply walked away? If no one had come for him, would he have just rotted away day after day in that crumbling little hut?

He revered Father more than anything in the world—more than his own life.

But sometimes, he wondered: If he had never been born, would Father have been much freer?

...The next morning, Mu Qingyan acted as if nothing had happened, calmly directing troop deployments and explaining the overt and covert strategies regarding the Azure Dragon Hall and White Tiger Hall to everyone.

According to the plan, You Guanyue led a small force in a feigned attack on the weakest of the halls—the White Tiger Hall. Its Altar Lord, Sima Zhi, tightly shut the palace gates, refusing to come out no matter what, while desperately sending for reinforcements from the surrounding areas.

Liao Tu, the Altar Lord of the Azure Dragon Hall and Sima Zhi’s sworn brother, naturally rushed to his aid upon hearing the news. But he was ambushed en route by Mu Qingyan and Lian Shisan, who had laid heavy forces in wait.

A bloody battle ensued, ending with Mu Qingyan striking Liao Tu with a palm strike that shattered his heart meridian. Lian Shisan swiftly mopped up the remaining resistance before gathering the troops to head for the White Tiger Hall.

Yet when You Guanyue came out to greet them, his expression was odd. "The commotion at the gates was still going on earlier, but half an hour ago, it suddenly fell silent. I don’t know where everyone went."

Seeing Mu Qingyan remain silent with a weary expression, he quickly directed his subordinates to use a giant stone to breach the gates of the White Tiger Palace. Seizing the advantage, the group charged inside.

However, just as You Guanyue had anticipated, the front gates, the outer halls, and even the forecourt were completely deserted. As they pressed forward, they finally heard faint sounds of combat from the rear hall of the White Tiger Palace, along with the furious voice of a young girl—

"You bunch of scoundrels! Harassing orthodox sects is one thing—that’s just the Demonic Cult’s nature—but now you’re even preying on the common folk under your own rule? Are you even human? Most of the people you captured yesterday to refine into Corpse Puppet Slaves have family members serving in your own Demonic Cult! With such disregard for basic decency, you’d be better off dead and reincarnated!"

Before You Guanyue could fully process the situation, his sharp eyes caught the complete transformation in Mu Qingyan’s expression.

It wasn’t exactly joy, but rather… vitality. Like a cold, monochrome ink painting suddenly splashed with vibrant colors. The sparse emptiness instantly filled with the warmth of the mortal world.

When they forced open the doors to the rear hall, they saw the motionless body of Sima Zhi, the Altar Lord of the White Tiger Hall, lying in a pool of blood. Beside him stood a slender young girl, surrounded by two rings of White Tiger Hall cultists.

Lian Shisan led the charge with loud shouts, capturing and disarming anyone in sight. The White Tiger Hall members, already battered by the girl, panicked further at the sudden intrusion of a large force.

The girl wielded a dazzling gold-and-red Arm Blade, radiant as a sunset. Hearing the commotion, she whirled around, and upon recognizing the newcomers, her face lit up with delighted surprise.

You Guanyue felt as though this girl were a rising sun—bright, fervent, warming the hearts of all who beheld her. He glanced sideways and, sure enough, Mu Qingyan had also been ‘warmed’ by her radiance, his eyes and brows softening into a gentle smile as he stepped forward.

Just then, a handsome young man emerged from the side, a longsword in hand, both stained with blood. His expression was cold and stern as he approached. "Zhao Zhao, the area’s cleared. Is Sima Zhi dead?"

A chill ran down You Guanyue’s spine as he noticed his lord’s face darkening into a terrifying scowl.

—The warm, radiant sun had plunged into icy water with a splash, extinguished in an instant.