For reasons unknown, after Nie Hengcheng seized power and succeeded as the sect leader, he neither resided in the Celestial Hall nor the nearby Corner Hall but instead settled in the Hall of the Mysterious Womb, the first chamber of Paradise Palace. In contrast, his less secure nephew Nie Zhe moved back into the Pivot Celestial Hall.
Now, the front half of the Hall of the Mysterious Womb had been smashed to pieces during Lian Shisan’s assault, while the back half was blown apart by Han Yisu. The Celestial Hall, meanwhile, had been turned into a den of debauchery by Nie Zhe, rendering both places uninhabitable.
Mu Qingyan wandered like a ghost through the Corner Hall. The guards along the way saluted him with clasped fists, while the maids, blushing at the sight of their coldly handsome and imposing master, quickly stepped aside, stealing glances as his figure disappeared through the gate of the rear courtyard.
This was where Mu Qingyan’s great-grandfather had spent his final years.
Tracing back the roots, the Nie Clan’s turmoil that spanned three generations of the Mu family began with his great-grandfather’s missteps in his later years—unable to bring himself to discipline his willful and self-centered only son, and lacking the energy to restrain his two ambitious adopted sons.
Yet who would have guessed that in his youth, the great-grandfather had been a decisive and spirited man? But his resoluteness seemed to have vanished along with his beloved wife.
The residence was arranged in quiet simplicity, save for a foot-long amethyst coral tree placed beneath a high shrine, its vibrant brilliance undimmed even after decades—this had been the favorite possession of Mu Qingyan’s great-grandmother.
She had married into the Mu family under her elders’ orders, forcing Mu Qingyan’s great-grandfather to part with the woman he truly loved. Resentful and cold toward his wife afterward, he found her uncomplaining and gentle in return.
In youth, people often believe they have a lifetime to forgive and reconcile, unaware of how swiftly time passes. Only when his wife lay on her deathbed did Mu Qingyan’s great-grandfather realize what he had missed, drowning in regret and sorrow for the rest of his days.
Standing before the coral tree, Mu Qingyan mused that the old fool Yan Xu ought to see this—his great-grandfather had obediently married as his parents and mentors demanded, yet the outcome was no less desolate and lost.
He shook his head.
Passing through his great-grandfather’s secluded courtyard, Mu Qingyan arrived at a grand and opulent mansion.
His grandfather, though frail and sickly, had been hot-tempered and prone to rage. He adored the most untamable steeds, kept the most defiant falcons, immersed himself in obscure ancient texts, and indulged in poetry, wine, and revelry.
Nie Hengcheng knew his adoptive brother’s tastes all too well, tailoring an “unexpected” encounter just for him—lingering spring chill, a shower of blossoms, and a proud, peerless beauty. The two clashed yet found mutual admiration.
In the throes of passion, neither could see the other’s flaws. The wife saw only her husband’s tenderness, blind to his fickleness, while the husband knew his wife was proud but unaware of the destructive stubbornness buried deep within her bones.
Mu Qingyan stood in the side chamber of his grandmother’s quarters. Even after decades, the room’s warm and soft furnishings were evident—every corner padded with thick silk wadding, every small toy that could be swallowed tied with silk threads, and copper rings nailed into the beams to hang a cradle…
Mu Qingyan’s great-grandfather, having lived through it all, had recognized the flaws in his son and daughter-in-law’s temperaments—and the hidden troubles they would bring.When his trusted left and right envoys also left in anger after many years of service, he lay on his sickbed, gazing worriedly at his infant grandson, and said to his son and daughter-in-law, "No matter how many faults I may have, at least I protected you until you married and had children. Now that you are parents yourselves, no matter what conflicts arise between you, you must never let an innocent child suffer."
His words proved prophetic.
By the time both parents had passed away, Mu Zhengming was not yet ten years old.
Mu Qingyan couldn't help but sigh. Indeed, the old man Yan had been right about one thing—for two hundred years, the marital fortunes of the Mu family had never been smooth. Whether they heeded their elders' advice or not, the outcomes were equally bleak. One might wonder if they had somehow offended the Matchmaker God.
As dawn's light crept in, the Bagua Evil-Warding Mirror hanging in the corner of the room flickered. Mu Qingyan raised his arm slightly and took it down.
Wiping away the dust, the polished mirror reflected a young, handsome face—high nose, thin lips, deep-set eyes, though the gaze was somewhat shadowed. Dissatisfied, Mu Qingyan adjusted his expression in the mirror, relaxing his brows and curving his lips into a gentle, serene smile...
Then he slumped down, one hand flipping the mirror face-down, the other covering his eyes. His shoulders trembled slightly, his body shaking with grief—Father!
Mu Qingyan had never mourned his great-grandfather or grandfather. Their fates had been their own choices. Countless mentors and friends had advised and warned them, yet they turned a deaf ear.
His great-grandfather had gradually developed affection after marriage, yet allowed his arrogance and indifference to wound his wife, ending up a widower for half his life—what was there to lament? His grandfather had known full well that the sect was surrounded by powerful enemies and his position unstable, yet indulged in reckless behavior, only to be manipulated by his scheming foster brother in the end—what was there to pity?
But Mu Zhengming—what had he done to deserve this?
Elder Chou had repeatedly berated Mu Zhengming for lacking ambition, for being weak and appeasing the enemy.
Yet Mu Qingyan knew his father had ambitions. Only, they lay not with the Nether Sect.
"The Mu family has governed the Nether Sect for two hundred years. Every Mu descendant is born into relentless training—resisting the Big Dipper Six Sects externally, controlling the unruly internally. Enough. Enough." Under a clear sky studded with stars, Mu Zhengming lay with his son on the rooftop, wine by their side, the cosmos above.
When he turned to smile at his son, his face was lean, his expression serene and tender. "Don't be trapped by the Vastsea Mountains, Yan'er. Don't be trapped here. Do what you wish, walk the path you choose."
Mu Qingyan had pored over his father's journals—from childhood scribbles to mature notes—filled with vivid descriptions of the vast world beyond: sun, moon, mountains, rivers, and customs excerpted from various travelogues.
Mu Zhengming had always longed to leave the Vastsea Mountains.
He began planning at fourteen, but at that time, Elder Chou pleaded desperately. The faction led by Nie Hengcheng was locked in a life-and-death struggle with theirs, gradually losing ground. Without Mu Zhengming as their most promising standard-bearer, Nie Hengcheng would immediately gain the upper hand. Loyalists of the Mu family would then face merciless slaughter.
So Mu Zhengming stayed.
Then, Sun Ruoshui appeared.
Then Sun Ruoshui became pregnant, and he had to marry her.
The chains binding Mu Zhengming grew heavier.
Then, Elder Chou also passed away.
Though grieved, Mu Zhengming knew it was inevitable. Under Nie Hengcheng's watchful eye, he quietly arranged safe paths for Elder Chou's disciples (such as You Guanyue). Just as he prepared to leave again, he was ambushed...Five years later, when he returned and picked up his pale, fragile young son from the dilapidated and filthy little dark room—Mu Zhengming knew he couldn’t leave again.
He was no naive, sheltered child. He knew what lay beyond the Vastsea Mountains. The journey would not be smooth; dangers lurked everywhere, lying in wait to hunt down the Mu father and son. He himself could endure hardship, living off the land with hunger as his companion, but a frail and frightened five-year-old could not withstand such a life of constant displacement.
He was a father. He had to find a comfortable and stable environment for his son to grow up in.
And so, he took his son into seclusion at the Unthinking Study of Huanglao Peak.
By the time Mu Qingyan turned fourteen, Mu Zhengming suddenly felt a rare lightness in his heart. For the first time in his life, he felt he could leave at any moment without worry.
By then, Mu Qingyan’s cultivation had already reached a remarkable level. Whether staying alone in the Vastsea Mountains or traveling the world with his father, Mu Zhengming knew his son could handle it with ease.
Yet, not long after, he was poisoned and passed away half a year later.
Until his dying breath, he never revealed the truth. He knew his son’s resentment was already deep, and he didn’t want to add more hatred toward the world to his heart.
"Yan'er, don’t dwell on the bad things. Think more about the good in this world. The vast sky, the majestic mountains—go out and see them. You’ll feel much brighter."
"Yan'er, your father hopes that when you look back on your life in old age, it will be filled with blooming flowers, and you’ll be glad to have walked this world."
"Yan'er, if you truly can’t let go of this grudge, your father supports you in dealing swiftly with the Nie family. But don’t let them take up too much space in your heart. Save the best place for something else."
"What for? Hehe, silly child, save it for the good things you’ll encounter in the future. Like… a girl who fills your heart with joy…"
Mu Qingyan covered his face and wept bitterly, his chest aching as if torn open and filled with saltwater.
After what felt like an eternity, dawn finally broke. Beams of morning light streamed through the torn window paper and fell upon him. The fog in Mu Qingyan’s eyes suddenly cleared. Staggering to his feet, he walked out of the room.
Yes, he would go find her—the girl who filled his heart with joy.
...
In the guest room on the west side of the Corner Hall, Song Yuzhi stood by the window, watching the sunrise.
"This is premium tiger bone, this is freshly harvested bear bile, and these are mountain ginseng—they say they’ll run away if you loosen the threads. Last night, I sent a few stalks to Miss Cai as well—she drank two whole bowls of the brew!"
Shangguan Haonan rambled on in front of several chests filled with precious items. "Young Master Song, though our sects stand opposed, I distinguish gratitude from grudges. You saved my life, and these humble gifts are but a small token of thanks. Tomorrow, I’ll also send a box of snow cicada lingzhi..."
"Hehehe..." Song Yuzhi suddenly let out a soft chuckle.
Shangguan Haonan was baffled. "What’s so amusing, Young Master Song?"
"Nothing." Song Yuzhi composed himself and sat down, his heroic bearing radiant under the morning sun. "Thank you for your kindness, Chief Shangguan, but I’m afraid I’ll be leaving your esteemed sect today."
"Ah, so soon?" Shangguan Haonan was stunned.
...
When Mu Qingyan pushed open the door, Cai Zhao was sitting by the window, reading.
She wore a rose-colored short jacket embroidered with peacocks and gold-plum blossoms, her slender waist cinched with a moon-white silk sash. Her flowing cloud-like pleated skirt swayed gently, and a gold hairpin with a pearl dangled at her temple. In the morning light, her cheeks were pink and translucent, her fine hair soft and delicate, like a small, exquisite jade statue—serene and focused."Zhao Zhao." Mu Qingyan stood at the doorway.
Cai Zhao looked up with a radiant smile. "You're back." She rose and pulled him to sit by the window, pouring him a cup of water and handing it to him.
Mu Qingyan held the cup, like a weary traveler returning to a warm home. He had countless words but didn't know where to begin. "Zhao Zhao, do you know... my father, my father was..." His voice choked, unable to continue.
"Killed by Madam Sun," the girl replied calmly, meeting his gaze.
Mu Qingyan froze. "How did you know?" Last night's interrogation was a sect secret—no one present should have spoken of it.
Cai Zhao lowered her eyes. "You revered your father so deeply—how could you disobey his final wishes? He explicitly asked you to care for Madam Sun in her old age, yet that day before Elder Yuheng, you said she might not live much longer."
She sighed. "There's only one reason you would defy your father's dying words—if Madam Sun did something you could never forgive: harming him."
Mu Qingyan smiled bitterly. "Zhao Zhao is truly clever."
His expression darkened, cold and somber as he added, "Elder Yan was right. The only thing that could kill Father was his own kindness."
Cai Zhao had no reply.
Mu Qingyan set the cup aside and leaned in, pulling the girl into a tight embrace. Burying his face in the soft warmth of her neck, he murmured, "Zhao Zhao, I'm in pain."
Cai Zhao stiffened. The damp heat of his breath against her skin was intoxicating, and she couldn't resist wrapping her arms around him, her hands resting on his firm waist.
Mu Qingyan tightened his hold as if trying to meld her into his very bones.
She felt his nose and lips brush against her neck—light, tender, intimate yet feverish. Closing her eyes, she mustered all her strength to shove him away, breaking free with effort.
"Zhao Zhao?" Mu Qingyan was pushed aside, his jade-like face still faintly flushed, his eyes wide with shock.
The girl stood with her back to him, chest heaving. After a moment, she turned with a smile. "There's something I need to tell you. I've been away from the sect for over two months now—it's time I returned. The sooner, the better. I might as well bid you farewell today."
Mu Qingyan's face drained of color. "What did you say?"
Cai Zhao averted her gaze. "I'm leaving. Returning to the Azure Tower Sect."
"...Say that again." His eyes turned icy as flying daggers.
Cai Zhao lifted her chin. "A hundred times wouldn't change it. This is the Demonic Cult. I am a disciple of North Star. Now that the Young Master has reclaimed his position as sect leader, I can't stay here any longer."
Mu Qingyan let out a long, cold laugh. "Without my permission, do you really think you can leave?!"
Tears welled in Cai Zhao's eyes as she pleaded softly, "Don't be like this. The time we've spent together was fate, but now that fate has run its course, let's part on good terms."
Mu Qingyan flung his sleeve in fury, sending the teapot and cups crashing to the floor in a cacophony of shattering porcelain. Pointing at her, he roared, "You dare speak of fate! After all we've shared, you can cast it aside so easily—you truly are a heartless, cruel woman!"
Seeing the redness in his eyes, Cai Zhao turned and grasped his arm, her voice trembling. "Why say such hurtful things? You know exactly why I have to leave."Mu Qingyan flung her hand away angrily, saying, "You're just afraid—afraid of being blamed. Have you forgotten what you saw in the palace? Even Lady Luo, the wife of Sect Leader Mu Donglie, could overcome all obstacles and in the end—"
"So you want to hide me in a palace too?" Cai Zhao raised her voice, cutting him off.
Mu Qingyan was stunned.
The girl's breath came fast, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I still held some hope before, but it was seeing that underground palace and learning Lady Luo's story that made me finally understand—there is no future for us!"
She cried out bitterly, "Even with Sect Leader Mu Donglie's power and influence, he couldn't openly be with Lady Luo as husband and wife. They either hid in palaces or fled far away. What hope do we have?!"
Mu Qingyan's face turned pale, his lips trembling as he slumped by the window.
Cai Zhao wept sorrowfully, gently embracing him. "Lady Luo could abandon her family and friends to disappear into seclusion with Sect Leader Mu Donglie—but I can't! I love the bustle and excitement, the familiar shops... You know I can't give them up!"
Mu Qingyan looked up dazedly, seeing only the girl's crimson lips. He held her tight, nuzzling her cheek with his nose, murmuring softly, "Kiss me once. Kiss me once, and I'll let you go."
Heartbroken, Cai Zhao turned her face and pressed a fleeting kiss to his gaunt cheek.
Mu Qingyan's breathing grew ragged, the emptiness in his head suddenly filled with raging fury. He gripped the back of her neck, pressing his burning lips fiercely against hers, sucking at her softness with resentment.
Trapped in his embrace, Cai Zhao grew feverish with sweat, her mind in disarray. Clinging to the last shred of clarity, she bit down hard. The unfamiliar metallic taste of blood spread between their lips—she didn't know whose it was.
She struggled free, stumbling back before standing tall. "My aunt once told me that when you grow up, you must always consider the consequences of your actions and never act blindly."
"When she left Jade Pendant Mountain Manor at fourteen, she already imagined the worst outcome might be the breaking of her engagement. She thought it through, accepted the loss, and walked away."
"She also knew the consequences of challenging Nie Hengcheng—either victory at great cost or utter defeat. She accepted it, willing to sacrifice everything to eliminate him. Even after being bedridden for over a decade, she never regretted it."
"I've always remembered her words, but ever since meeting you, I've been reckless—never thinking about what would become of us, what future we could have, whether my parents and friends would suffer because of me."
Wiping her tears, Cai Zhao declared stubbornly, "But now I've thought it through. The enmity between the Demonic Cult and the Big Dipper Six Sects runs too deep—there's no reconciliation. I won't abandon my family and home for you—not for anyone!"
"I only hope the Young Master will be reasonable. For the sake of our past affection, let me and my senior brother leave peacefully. But if you insist on keeping us here..." Her right hand rested on her waist, her expression resolute. "The Bright Sun Blade has claimed countless lives before. I won't disgrace my aunt's legacy—we can settle this in the Nether Bamboo Path if need be!"
"No need." Mu Qingyan rose slowly, his face icy. "Miss Cai has said her piece. Even if I had no shame left, I wouldn't cling like a beggar. Besides, with the Nie Clan newly overthrown, the Cult's affairs are overwhelming. I've no leisure to detain you and your senior brother."
He strode toward the door, passing Cai Zhao without a glance. "From now on, you may go—I won't see you off."Step by step, he walked out of the house, his heart growing colder and harder inch by inch, numb beyond feeling any pain.
He thought to himself—in the end, he was truly alone.
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