Mu Daoying was a man of strong action.
After Cheng Xun finished speaking, he boarded the flying boat with Liu Qiao’e. Mu Daoying quietly watched the two depart into the horizon. The next day, he packed his belongings and headed to Little Thatch Ridge.
The only connection between him and Cheng Xun was Liu Qiao’e.
Mu Daoying had anticipated that Little Thatch Ridge was related to Liu Qiao’e.
Perhaps, deep down, he was also extremely eager to find a new path forward for his relationship with Liu Qiao’e.
In fact, it was not just Cheng Xun. Before Song Miaoling left, she had also sought him out and spoken some words to him.
The woman’s warm yet hesitant voice still echoed in his ears.
“These words shouldn’t come from me. But I do feel guilty toward her.”
“Regarding your master, my condolences. But I hope you know she lived a very bitter life. Her extreme temperament is somewhat understandable.”
At that time, he did not understand. “What do you mean by that, Elder? Could you speak plainly?”
Song Miaoling said faintly, “Perhaps it’s because our Cloud Mountain Song Clan all owe her something.”
Both Cheng Xun and Song Miaoling had said similar things to him. Just what had happened in Liu Qiao’e’s past?
The closer he got to Little Thatch Ridge, the closer he felt to Liu Qiao’e. Along the way, Mu Daoying always harbored a vague sense of unease.
Until he stepped into the village at the foot of the mountain called Little Thatch Ridge Village.
Green hills like deep ink, a calm lake like a mirror, crisscrossing fields, rows of new rice paddies, a few dragonflies drifting leisurely.
Three or four children chased after the dragonflies’ tails. When they ran too fast, their parents, leaning on hoes nearby, laughed, “Slow down, don’t fall!”
No sooner had the words left than one child tumbled right at Mu Daoying’s feet and burst into wails. Mu Daoying hurriedly helped him up and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the dust and tears from his little face.
The child had been crying but stopped upon lifting his head and catching sight of Mu Daoying’s picturesque features. He stared blankly and asked, “Immortal! Big brother, are you an immortal?!”
His parents hurried over to thank him.
Mu Daoying said warmly, “I’m no immortal. I’m here looking for someone.”
He straightened up and faced the child’s parents. “Sorry to bother you. Is this Little Thatch Village?”
The couple of farmers were stunned by his appearance and bearing, momentarily at a loss for words.
But Mu Daoying’s demeanor and speech were extremely approachable and gentle. He asked softly again, “Auntie, uncle, I’d like to ask you about someone.”
Seeing his refined speech and that his pale Daoist robes seemed washed many times over, with cuffs slightly frayed, the farmer couple relaxed their wariness a bit.
“Young sir, who are you inquiring about?”
Though Mu Daoying had a beauty so exquisite it bordered on ethereal chilliness, keeping people at a distance, his overall aura was remarkably mild, like a clear blue sky under sunlight, with gentle breezes.
Mu Daoying thought for a moment and asked, “Is there a Liu family here?”
“Liu?” The woman said in surprise. “Everyone around here is surnamed Liu.”
Mu Daoying paused. “Has Auntie heard of Liu Qiao’e?”
The woman shook her head blankly.
She asked her husband beside her, but he was equally puzzled.
Mu Daoying figured that since the whole village was surnamed Liu, it must indeed be connected to Liu Qiao’e. Perhaps she was even born here.
He did not know Liu Qiao’e’s age. Back when she first appeared in the Eastern Florescence Realm, she had risen to prominence like a dark horse. In just one or two months, her name had spread throughout the Eastern Florescence Realm.
Cultivators had long lifespans. It might be an old story from many years ago, which was why this couple had not heard of it.
He thought for a bit, then asked them to introduce him to the oldest person in the village to inquire about the past.
Guided by the couple, Mu Daoying finally found what was said to be the oldest longevity star in Little Thatch Village.
That longevity star, upon hearing his purpose, first pointed to Little Thatch Mountain in the distance, then to another ridge beyond the small mountain.
He took a puff of his pipe, then spoke. “See that mountain? The bigger one is Great Thatch Ridge. There used to be a Great Thatch Village under it, also called Great Thatch Liu Village. But later there was a disaster, so our Liu clansmen moved to this Little Thatch Ridge. We originally lived there.”
Mu Daoying listened and asked, “Has old sir heard of Liu Qiao’e, this name?”
The longevity star paused, then stared straight at him for a moment and exclaimed, “I know you!!”
“You… you’ve been here before. Liu Qiao’e… she’s the daughter of Liu Fusheng’s family, right?!”
Mu Daoying was stunned. He had not expected to actually uncover Liu Qiao’e’s past, but many questions immediately arose afterward.
Just what did this old man mean by having seen him before?
He furrowed his brow, recalling Cheng Xun’s words.
Cheng Xun’s question about whether he had been to Little Thatch Ridge was not baseless.
Over these years, he had followed his sect slaying demons and exorcising evils, wandering far and wide. He had been to too many places, and Little Thatch Ridge was truly too unremarkable. For the moment, he could not quite remember.
Hearing the old man say it, he did vaguely recall something.
The old man sighed. “How many years has it been? Immortal one, you haven’t aged a bit. Who knows what became of that Liu family daughter now—”
Mu Daoying gathered his thoughts upon hearing this and looked up to ask the old man in detail. “Old sir, what do you mean you’ve seen me? And that Liu family daughter…”
The next second, the longevity star’s words struck like a bolt from the blue, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.
The old man laughed outright. “That Liu family daughter you were asking about—she liked you! Everyone in our village knew it!”
Liked him?
Mu Daoying’s mind went blank, mechanically chewing over those words.
It was as if an electric current shot up his spine to the back of his skull. His fingertips trembled, and a fearful shudder ran through his entire body from those words.
He suddenly had a premonition that he was about to uncover a truth—one he could not bear.
–
Great Xia Dynasty, mortal calendar, the summer of the fourteenth year of Yanxing.
It was the hottest day of that summer. Cicadas clung densely to the trees, chirping noisily.
Lately, Great Thatch Ridge Liu Village had been unsettled. It was said a demon beast had appeared in the mountains, killing many people.
No one dared go up the mountain anymore.
Liu Qiao’e’s face was sunburned bright red. She had just come back from bathing in the river and walked home barefoot.
But upon reaching home, she froze.
A group of immortals stood at her doorstep, no one knew when they had arrived!
She had never seen immortals before, but in her imagination, the “immortals” from Village East Scholar’s tales were no more than this.
These youths, boys and girls alike, were clad entirely in snow-white robes. Each was more beautiful than the dolls in New Year paintings. In the height of summer, they carried a fragrant coolness without a drop of sweat, as if carved from ice jade.
And her mother actually stood at the door, speaking with these immortals.
She could not help but call out, “Mom!”
The immortals all turned at her voice, their gazes falling on her.
She was tanned pitch-black all over, her mouth agape in shock, looking just like a black-skinned frog.
Liu Qiao’e forced down her inferiority and shame, hurried to her mother’s side, and whispered, “Mom, what’s this about?”
Her mother looked no less nervous than her, gripping her hand and whispering back.
There was a demon in the mountains, and these young immortals had come to ask for directions to exterminate it.
News of the demon in the mountains quickly spread through the entire Liu Village.
And those heavenly youths were said to be from Jade Clarity Temple.
They soon settled in Liu Village, temporarily staying at the village head’s home.
Everyone was curious about these legendary immortals, and Liu Qiao’e was no exception.
When they passed by her house on their way into the mountains, she propped open the window and secretly peeked from below.
She was utterly captivated by one of the boys.
That boy, icy and snowy, passed under the old locust tree in the village. In the tree’s shadow, his sharply contoured profile gleamed like a freshly cut pear. His features had not fully matured, and his temperament was aloof and reserved, like a big child.
They went up that mountain often, sometimes several times a day.
He seemed somewhat aloof, not fond of speaking. But when his senior brothers and sisters called him, he always answered earnestly and politely.
The way he walked, his steps seemed perfectly measured. She watched entranced—how could someone walk with such consistent strides, never running or jumping?
A string of pendants hung at his waist, almost never making a sound. He appeared extremely steady.
But only she knew one secret.
He was not as steadily dignified as he appeared on the surface.
While his senior brothers and sisters busied themselves questioning the villagers, he would secretly watch the ants moving under the tree, or quietly twist his neck to loosen his stiff muscles.
On hot days, he would discreetly press his fingers to his sword hilt, feeling its cool temperature.
When his seniors looked over, he was straight-backed again, perfectly measured like a ruler’s mark, elegantly graceful like a young crane.
This secret, known only to her, filled her with elation and a touch of smugness.
He did not know her at all, yet she felt they shared a secret, as if they were already intimately close.
Look, she knew it—he seemed afraid of the heat, and his heart was lively too.
They just needed an opportunity to meet.
Several times, she had nearly called out to him.
She was not like the timid girls in the village, who did not even dare look at them, only huddling together, pushing and giggling.
She mustered her courage countless times, wanting to call out to them.
But what would she say once she did? She endlessly fantasized their encounter, meticulously pondering every possible word and phrase.
Until one day, she saw them descending the mountain from afar.
The young boy was sweating profusely for once, his jet-black hair strands sticking to his snow-white skin, his little face flushed red.
After peeking for so many days, she had learned his name. The slightly taller, older boy beside him called him “Junior Brother Mu,” and others called him “Ning Xia.”
Mu Ningxia… She rolled the name over and over, tasting an icy sweetness before sleep.
She saw that Mu Ningxia was sweating a lot, his brows slightly furrowed, as if very hot.
For some reason at the time—or perhaps without thinking—she felt a sudden intense longing, like an electric shock surging from her soles to her heart.
A bold, reckless idea struck her.
He looked so hot and thirsty. What if she brought him a ladle of water?
Excitement and fear were intertwined. Amid the thrill, a fear whitened her mind.
That fear made her tremble all over. She raced desperately to the big water jar in the backyard.
Her steps shook; she even fell, scraping her knee bloody. But she felt no pain.
She was immersed in this fearful shudder. The fear surged and crashed within her, bringing a dizzying bliss.
She trembled with excitement. She knew she had to seize this one chance, while her courage still burned.
While this ignorant courage raged like a mountain torrent, disorienting her, she lunged to the jar and hastily pressed down the floating ladle.
A few fallen leaves and fine dust floated on the surface. This was how they drank daily—not pristine, but who cared for farm folk?
She skimmed the leaves and dust, filled the ladle full, and joyfully lifted it like an offering fruit to the village land god’s Bodhisattva.
But suddenly, she glimpsed her reflection in the water.
Skinny and small, pitch-black, utterly unremarkable.
Her toes scratched uneasily at the ground. She snapped awake from the dreamlike fervor.
Could someone like her really appear before Mu Ningxia?
In her imagination, she should be like the kingdom-toppling beauties from the stage plays, dignified and refined young ladies.
But in this short time, how could she become such a prostitute?
If she appeared before him in such an unworthy state, she would rather not go at all!
She regretted it. She dropped the ladle, pursed her lips, and stormed out of the backyard in anger.
An inexplicable, irritable flame consumed her entirely.
Her little brother didn’t understand, thinking someone had offended her. He sucked on his finger and asked her, “Sis, what’s wrong? Who upset you?”
Her little brother was usually very obedient. Although her parents favored him, he had always listened to her every word.
In front of her little brother, she was like a little adult who could lord it over him.
But his good intentions only earned him a torrent of scolding from her.
As she scolded, she threw herself onto the bed.