Mo Li

As soon as Ye Li stepped into Shen Yang's courtyard, she heard the sound of a heated argument inside. Unlike the usual clashes between Shen Yang and Doctor Lin that often escalated into physical fights, this time it was a battle of sharp-tongued sarcasm and biting mockery—so intense that even Ye Li couldn't help but twitch at the corners of her lips as she stood at the entrance.

Without even entering the room, she saw the two men who had been at each other's throats just days ago now united against a common foe. Shen Yang sat leisurely sipping tea, exuding the air of a refined scholar, while Doctor Lin also drank his tea, utterly dismissive of the people before them. Zhuo Jing, who had brought Leng Liuyue and Sick Scholar there, could only try to mediate gently. "Gentlemen, it was Wang Fei who asked you to examine this patient."

Doctor Lin snorted, giving Zhuo Jing a sidelong glance. "Since when did this old man ever pledge blind obedience to your Wang Fei? If she says examine, I must examine?" Shen Yang chuckled, "Though I do receive a stipend from Prince Ding's Estate... as a self-respecting divine physician, I absolutely refuse to treat fellow practitioners." This remark clearly pleased Doctor Lin, who nodded repeatedly. "Back in my days wandering the jianghu, I earned a nickname—'See Death, Won't Save.' It means... those who shouldn't die, I won't save, and those who should die, I'll save even less!" Doctor Lin's jianghu days were at least thirty years ago, making him older than everyone present. No one bothered questioning the truth of his claim, but his stance was unmistakably clear.

Sick Scholar coughed incessantly—whether from anger or genuine injury was unclear. When he finally caught his breath, he tugged at Leng Liuyue's sleeve. "Second Sister, let's go." His venomous gaze swept over Shen Yang and Doctor Lin as he silently vowed to return and poison these two old bastards once his injuries healed. Both physicians noticed his expression but remained unfazed. While others might fear Sick Scholar's peerless mastery of poisons, these two were among the foremost medical experts of their time. Unless Sick Scholar could concoct some long-lost ancient toxin, few poisons would intimidate them.

Unlike Sick Scholar, Leng Liuyue had heard of Shen Yang's reputation. The King of Hell Pavilion was a gathering place for eccentrics, so she understood that true talent often came with peculiar temperaments. She gave Sick Scholar a cool glance before cupping her hands respectfully. "My younger brother has been rude. Please forgive him, honored physicians." From her words, Ye Li deduced that Sick Scholar had likely provoked them first. After all, though Shen Yang and Doctor Lin bickered daily, they never picked fights with outsiders or would unreasonably deny treatment to someone she had referred. Seeing this, Ye Li wasn't in a hurry to intervene. Leaning against the wall outside, she pondered how Mo Xiuyao and Ling Tiehan's friendship made killing Sick Scholar impractical. She'd need to find another way to teach him a lesson and vent her anger.

"Second Sister, there's no need to beg these two old fools! What skills do they have? They can't even produce a proper prescription—how could they possibly treat me?" Sick Scholar sneered."Shut up!" Leng Liuyue frowned and scolded sharply, "One more word and I'll have Big Brother lock you in the forbidden area forever!" Sick Scholar froze, a trace of desolation flashing in his eyes as he looked at the beautiful yet cold woman in black before him. Over there, Doctor Lin chuckled and sneered at Sick Scholar, "As if that prescription was something you came up with yourself."

What Shen Yang knew about the ancient Underworld Flower prescription was mostly legend. His collection only contained a partial formula—a fragment from a thousand years ago. Not only was the script different, but many herb names were unfamiliar, and the meanings were ambiguously written. Unless one had the complete ancient prescription, he truly didn't believe this eccentric young man could have figured it out on his own.

Sick Scholar smirked coldly and fell silent. So what if it wasn’t his own work? He was lucky enough to obtain the complete ancient prescription—that alone made him the winner. If these people wanted to know the formula, wouldn’t they have to beg him?

"Mr. Shen, Master, what’s going on?" Seeing that the argument inside had quieted down, Ye Li stepped forward and asked with a smile, observing the tense atmosphere. Zhuo Jing approached and briefly explained the situation to her. Sick Scholar really was asking for trouble. Probably still seething from his earlier anger in the hall, he had taken it out on Shen Yang and Doctor Lin. But neither of those two was someone to be trifled with. A rapid-fire exchange of words had nearly made Sick Scholar spit blood in frustration.

Shen Yang smiled without a word, but Doctor Lin was far less polite. He snorted and said, "Where did you find such a venomous sickly brat? Even on death’s door, he doesn’t know how to behave." Ye Li raised a brow slightly, glancing at Sick Scholar and Leng Liuyue. Every time she had seen Sick Scholar, he had always looked frail and sickly, so even after taking a strike from Mo Xiuyao, he still appeared the same—no sign of being on the verge of death. Leng Liuyue, however, frowned and cast a worried glance at her sworn brother before saying, "My brother is young and ignorant. He has offended you both. Please, for the sake of his youth, save his life."

Doctor Lin narrowed his eyes at Leng Liuyue. "You, girl, are much more honest than that other one. But this brother of yours… Hmph! So unruly—clearly in need of discipline. Might as well slap him dead and be done with it." The old doctor still held a grudge over how Ye Li had deceived him before. Ye Li inwardly sighed in resignation. Leng Liuyue is a famous assassin in the martial world, Master. Are your eyes failing you?

Leng Liuyue’s expression turned solemn as she looked at Sick Scholar’s contorted face, her own showing helplessness. "We siblings have relied on each other since childhood. If my brother is unruly, it’s because I failed in teaching him properly. Please forgive him." With that, she bowed deeply to the two men. As Leng Liuyue had said, the three of them had indeed grown up together.When they first met, the eldest, Ling Tiehan, was only twelve years old, she was just nine, and the youngest brother was merely five. The hardships endured by these three orphaned children drifting through the martial world were unimaginable. Later, the three were taken into the King of Hell Pavilion—a place where out of ten children who entered, only two or three would survive to adulthood. It was Ling Tiehan who protected the two younger ones. Among them, the third brother had the poorest aptitude for martial arts, and to ensure this sworn brother survived the brutal training, she and the eldest brother went to great lengths. Yet, in places Leng Liuyue didn’t know, no one could understand how he developed such a personality. But no matter what, he had never betrayed his sworn siblings, and in daily conversations, he would still listen to them. For this reason alone, they couldn’t simply abandon him.

"Second Sister!" Sick Scholar glared at Leng Liuyue, his face pale. Since the three siblings took charge of the King of Hell Pavilion, when had his second sister ever humbled herself like this before anyone? And now, it was all because of him—as if he were a forever immature little brother who couldn’t grow up.

"Mr. Shen, Master. Ling Gezhu and His Highness are old acquaintances. I hope the two of you can be accommodating," Ye Li said softly.

Shen Yang glanced at Ye Li with faint amusement. "Old Lin wasn’t wrong. If this brat keeps pushing himself like this, even the Underworld Flower won’t save his life. Does he really think the Underworld Flower is some divine cure that can make him bounce back from the brink of death? Wang Fei, don’t even think about the prescription in his hands. To me, it seems he simply doesn’t want to live—maybe he even wants to drag His Highness down with him."

At these words, Sick Scholar’s expression darkened, his face turning ashen, but he remained silent. Ye Li observed this with quiet surprise—could there really be some deep-seated grudge between Mo Xiuyao and Sick Scholar?

After a moment’s thought, Ye Li said, "Regardless, Ling Gezhu will be staying in Li Cheng for some time. We must still give him face. Please, Mr. Shen and Master, spare some effort. Besides..." She chuckled lightly. "Didn’t Mr. Shen say that aside from His Highness’s illness, you’ve found no challenging cases in recent years and have been rather bored? Well, doesn’t this one count as a challenge?"

Shen Yang’s eyes brightened at that. Though Sick Scholar’s condition was entirely different from the prince’s poisoning, there were still some areas worth studying. Of course, he couldn’t experiment on Mo Xiuyao, so... "Will he obediently let me examine him?"

Ye Li hadn’t spoken in secret, and before Sick Scholar could respond, Leng Liuyue cut in, "Rest assured, Mr. Shen. I guarantee he’ll behave."

Ye Li smirked at Sick Scholar, who wanted to protest but ultimately stayed silent, and blinked. It seemed she had figured out how to deal with this troublesome fellow.The three members of the King of Hell Pavilion settled into Prince Ding's Estate. With Ling Tiehan and Leng Liuyue present, Ye Li didn’t have to worry about Sick Scholar causing trouble. Still, she instructed Mo Hua to deploy twenty additional shadow guards to secure the main courtyard. Qin Feng also voluntarily assigned four elite Qilin members to guard the area, ensuring Sick Scholar would be killed on sight if he dared approach. After all, while others might not be at risk, Mo Xiaobao was still a defenseless infant in swaddling clothes, requiring extra caution.

"Martial Arts Contest?" Ye Li frowned slightly upon hearing Mo Xiuyao’s words, setting down the wide-eyed, squirming Mo Xiaobao in her arms. "Why would Ling Gezhu want to challenge you?"

Mo Xiuyao put down his teacup, pulling Ye Li into his embrace with a smile. "A Li, don’t worry. Ling Tiehan isn’t foolish. Even if we do fight, he wouldn’t let it end in mutual destruction—that would only harm him more." Prince Ding's Estate might be under the covetous gaze of various factions, but with the Mo Family Army, the occasions requiring Wang Ye to personally take the field were rare. Even if Mo Xiuyao wasn’t the world’s greatest martial artist, as long as he lived, he remained Prince Ding, and the Mo Family Army remained the Mo Family Army. The King of Hell Pavilion, however, was different. As an assassin organization, it had countless enemies in both the martial world and the court. Its stability over the years relied solely on Ling Tiehan’s unparalleled skills. If Ling Tiehan were severely injured in a fight with Mo Xiuyao, their enemies would undoubtedly swarm the pavilion. Leaning against Mo Xiuyao, Ye Li pondered, "Who asked Ling Gezhu to deal with you? Zhennan Wang?"

Mo Xiuyao shook his head. "No, it’s unlikely to be Lei Zhenting. He’s too proud. Having just fought me to a draw, he wouldn’t ask someone else to challenge me. If I were defeated by another, wouldn’t that imply Zhennan Wang is inferior not only to Father but also to me and Ling Tiehan?" Ye Li lowered her gaze, finding his reasoning plausible. After a moment of contemplation, she said solemnly, "Tan Jizhi!" It couldn’t be Mo Jingqi—if it were, he would have demanded Mo Xiuyao’s death outright, not a mere contest. Only Tan Jizhi made sense. He was currently in the northwest, and if Mo Xiuyao were severely injured, his plans there would proceed much more smoothly. Mo Xiuyao chuckled softly. "It seems Tan Jizhi still hasn’t given up on his ancestors’ so-called treasure." Ye Li couldn’t help but find it amusing—the former dynasty’s founding emperor had been truly malicious. He built such an elaborate imperial tomb, offering descendants false hope, while the most crucial item inside was a fake. Even Ye Li felt the urge to curse him inwardly. She could almost picture the emperor’s smug, gleeful expression as he held the counterfeit imperial jade seal upon the tomb’s completion.Mo Xiuyao nodded and said, "I remember A Li mentioned some clues in the Imperial Tomb before?" When Ye Li first returned, Mo Xiuyao had been too preoccupied with keeping her by his side to consider such matters. Later, between pregnancy, recovery, and the birth of Mo Xiaobao, though he had heard Ye Li mention it briefly, it had quickly slipped his mind. He had no interest in the Imperial Jade Seal—the Mo Family Army wouldn't starve even without the treasures of the previous dynasty's emperor.

Ye Li recalled the matter as well and stood up from Mo Xiuyao’s embrace, walking to a hidden compartment to retrieve the bright yellow silk scroll they had brought from the Imperial Tomb. Mo Xiuyao took the scroll, and the first thing that caught his eye were the two lines of arrogant and malicious handwriting, making him twitch his lips involuntarily. He looked at Ye Li in confusion and asked, "Is there something wrong with this?"

Ye Li nodded, sitting back down beside him and carefully spreading the silk scroll on the table. It was unclear what craftsmanship had been used, but despite being buried in the Imperial Tomb for centuries and then moved outside, the silk showed no signs of decay or fading. Pointing to the intricate silver-threaded characters along the edges, Ye Li smiled. "The real treasure map is here." The edges of the bright yellow silk were embroidered with twisting, cryptic silver characters—so fine that one might mistake them for mere decorative patterns like clouds or waves if not examined closely. Ye Li couldn’t help but admire the founding emperor’s elegant calligraphy.

Mo Xiuyao studied the scroll for a long moment before frowning. "This must be some kind of script. I recall seeing similar strange symbols in obscure corners of books personally annotated by the founding emperor of the previous dynasty." However, most of those were just scattered marks, easily dismissed as random notations. But here, the silk bore at least a hundred such symbols neatly woven into the fabric. Being exceptionally sharp, Mo Xiuyao quickly discerned a pattern and confirmed that this was a script entirely unfamiliar to them.

Ye Li nodded with a smile. "You’re right. It is indeed a script." She picked up the brush and inkstone nearby, grinding the ink absentmindedly as she examined the silk. After a moment of silence, Mo Xiuyao asked, "A Li, do you recognize this script?"

Ye Li smiled faintly and nodded, glancing up at him. "I do. It’s a script from the far west, beyond even the Western Regions. But I won’t tell you how I know it."

The room fell silent. Ignoring him, Ye Li finished grinding the ink, spread out a fresh sheet of paper, and began translating the text. After a while, Mo Xiuyao suddenly pulled her tightly into his embrace from behind. Ye Li paused her brush but didn’t turn to look at him.

In a low voice, Mo Xiuyao murmured, "There was once a rumor that the founding emperor of the previous dynasty never died—he simply vanished one day. That’s why his tomb and remains were never found. A Li… will you disappear like him too?"Hearing this, Ye Li couldn't help but smile softly. She set down her brush and turned to look at the man before her, whose expression was grave and whose eyes were fixed unwaveringly on her. Leaning up, she gently pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips and said with a quiet laugh, "Do you know where the founding emperor of the previous dynasty came from?"

Mo Xiuyao shook his head. The founding emperor of the previous dynasty had been born in turbulent times, seemingly appearing out of thin air. No one knew of his past, his family, or even his parents. His later years remained as obscure as his early life, which was why he became one of history's most mysterious emperors.

Ye Li smiled. "Then, Wang Ye, do you know where I come from? Which family I belong to?"

Mo Xiuyao gazed deeply at the woman before him, her smile bright and lovely. No, his A Li was not like that emperor. A Li was the daughter of the Ye family, her birth mother from the Xu clan of Yunzhou.

Ye Li sighed softly and nestled into his embrace, smiling faintly. "My family, my husband, my child—they're all here. Where else could I go?"

Mo Xiuyao tightened his arms around her waist, pressing his forehead against hers. His voice was low as he murmured, "A Li, if you ever leave me, I'll throw Mo Xiaobao out to become a beggar."

Ye Li was speechless. She reached up and pinched his handsome cheek. The medicine Doctor Lin had given him was remarkably effective—after just a few months, even at such close proximity, the scars were barely visible. She gave his cheek another firm pinch. "How many times is this now that you've used Xiao Bao to threaten me? I've told you not to joke about him. He's still too young to understand now, but when he grows up and hears your words, he'll be hurt."

Mo Xiuyao pulled her hand away, his face slightly reddened from her pinching, and shot a displeased glare at Mo Xiaobao, who was babbling happily to himself in his cradle. A Li had actually pinched him for this little brat—this was definitely another mark against Mo Xiaobao. And so, even in his infancy, Mo Xiaobao had already begun suffering unjust blame.

"A Li..." Mo Xiuyao hugged her tightly, burying his face in the hair at her shoulder. His voice sounded muffled and heavy.

Ye Li rolled her eyes helplessly. A man who suddenly turned fragile-hearted was truly hard to deal with. She patted his shoulder lightly. "Alright, I promise I won't leave you, okay? Be good. I still need to finish translating this—don’t you want to see it?"

"No," Mo Xiuyao grumbled. He hated that founding emperor from the previous dynasty. If he was going to die, he should have done it cleanly—what was the point of leaving behind some treasure map?

"Then what do you want?" Ye Li took a silent breath, deciding that if Mo Xiuyao continued acting up, she would kick him out.

Mo Xiuyao suddenly scooped her up and carried her toward the bed behind the screen. "I'm tired. Rest with me!"

Before she could react, Ye Li found herself pressed onto the bed. She rolled her eyes at the canopy overhead—Mo Xiuyao, could you be any more childish?

He gave her no chance to protest or speak, as a fiercer flame instantly engulfed the two entwined figures...

Author's Note:

No explicit content here~ Not only is it hard to gauge the right balance, but I'm also really not good at writing that sort of thing. We'll just fade to black...