This bastard.
Liu Qiao’e walked out of the side hall step by step, her waist aching and her legs weak. Sunlight fell on her flushed face.
She gnashed her teeth. In this state, how could she face Cheng Xun?
What did this bastard mean by deliberately calling her to see Cheng Xun?
Her beloved was better off as the moon in the sky.
In her girlhood, she had fantasized countless times about him kissing her domineeringly without a word, tumbling with her in passion.
But when it truly became reality, she felt an indescribable shame and anger.
She wanted to lash out, yet she felt guilty and short of breath.
She stood there in a daze for a moment, her gaze somewhat lost, and let out a wistful sigh.
Mu Daoying was her nemesis, disrupting her mind time and again.
He could no longer stay in Joyous Union Palace.
She steeled her heart. Since she had resolved to part ways, she would find a way to drive him out.
–
After Liu Qiao’e left, Mu Daoying fetched another basin of water and washed his fingers, hair, and face.
He gazed at the stranger who was also familiar in the rippling water.
Boundless exhaustion weighed on those faint brows and eyes. The ripples distorted the man’s features bit by bit into someone he did not recognize.
He should have drawn a clear line with her right then. But last night, anger had risen from his heart. He could not restrain his resentment toward her—his fury. He wanted her to feel the pain he felt, desire what he desired, and repay his own experiences on her a hundredfold, a thousandfold.
Fine then. Let bygones be bygones, like yesterday’s death. Since he had done those things, regret was useless.
It ended there.
While he tormented himself with remorse, she might not have such leisure.
What he had done yesterday was, to her, perhaps just another night of revelry with the likes of Cheng Xun, Tu Qin, and He Chuan from before.
Perhaps his mad appearance that day had scared her off. For several days in a row, Liu Qiao’e did not come to see him again.
Cheng Xun’s wounds had healed by five or six tenths, enough for him to get out of bed and walk. He wanted to visit and thank Mu Daoying.
Mu Daoying refused him at the door every time.
The only one staying by his side to attend him was Zhu Qing.
Though Zhu Qing was in Joyous Union Palace, he retained a rare innocence. He spoke freely and without reservation.
It was precisely from Zhu Qing that Mu Daoying learned of the many developments outside.
For instance, during this period, the Immortal Alliance had gathered the major sects and launched an attack on Joyous Union Palace.
They dared not clash head-on with the Demonic Sect, so they naturally targeted the Demonic Sect’s vanguard first, venting their rage on Joyous Union Palace.
Life was also hard for the disciples of Jade Clarity Temple.
After Qingxu defected, he had taken away a considerable portion of the temple’s elders and elites.
Everyone then realized how deeply Jade Clarity Temple had been infiltrated by the Demonic Sect.
The Jade Clarity disciples became targets of public scorn, living in fear like homeless dogs, bullied by disciples of other sects. Many lost their dao hearts, which collapsed one after another.
Mu Daoying frowned, his heart aching as he thought of his former fellow disciples, whom he had once regarded as brothers and sisters.
“The Old Mother has been going out early and returning late these days for that reason,” Zhu Qing said.
Sure enough, over the next few days, as Zhu Qing had said, the entire Joyous Union Palace entered a state of intense wartime alert.
The major sects had gathered to attack Joyous Union Palace, with the battlefield set up five hundred li east of Xumeng Great Marsh.
Though Luo Naji was cunning and despicable, he could not possibly sit idly by while his ally was besieged. He naturally sent many demonic soldiers and generals to help.
Demonic Sect disciples were often seen coming and going in Joyous Union Palace.
That day, Zhu Qing brewed the medicine and brought it for Mu Daoying to drink.
Mu Daoying thanked him, then picked up the medicine bowl. Suddenly, he heard a commotion outside the hall.
Mu Daoying set down the medicine without drinking and stood up. He went out with Zhu Qing to see what was happening.
Many guards and palace maids hurried past the palace gates.
“What happened? Where are you all going?” Zhu Qing grabbed one of the palace maids and asked.
The palace maid said excitedly, “The Old Mother captured a batch of Immortal Alliance people! She’s going to sacrifice them to the flag for all to see!”
Immortal Alliance, sacrifice to the flag? Mu Daoying was stunned.
Zhu Qing also thought of his former identity and hesitated before asking, “Daozhang, do you want to go take a look?”
Mu Daoying thought for a moment and nodded. After all, he had once been a disciple of the Immortal Alliance. He should go see what was happening.
By the time the two arrived at the central plaza, they were already one step late.
The plaza was packed with people. One of the Yang Clan Three Ladies stood at the front of the platform, raising her arms and shouting.
“Look at them! Look at these people! They call themselves righteous on ordinary days, looking down on our Joyous Union Palace’s ways and deeds, bullying us endlessly! They’ve harmed so many of our brothers and sisters!
“But did our brothers and sisters truly deserve to die?!”
“Over these years, our Joyous Union Sect disciples have followed the middle path. Have we ever joined the battles between righteous and demonic? Have we ever learned from the Demonic Sect to harm innocent lives? Just because our cultivation methods differ, they seek to exterminate us. It’s truly hateful!”
“It’s these righteous ones! For years, they’ve pushed us too far! Forcing us to retreat again and again, leaving us no path to walk, no way to retreat!
“And these people before us dared to boast shamelessly on the battlefield, insulting the Old Mother! They truly don’t know the heights of heaven!” One of the Yang Ladies said in disgust. “The Old Mother merely lifted a finger, and they ended up like this! Pathetic and laughable!”
Her words were straightforward, amplified by spiritual power like a great bell or lute, resounding with weight, echoing through the valley, highly provocative.
The Joyous Union Palace disciples below were all stirred to anger, gnashing their teeth with indignant expressions. They had completely forgotten that in the decades before Liu Qiao’e took power, they—these Joyous Union Palace disciples—had also committed their share of rapes, abductions, and forcing women into prostitution.
The crowd below roared like the sea, shouting slogans like “Old Mother reigns ten thousand years, forever prosperous!” The people’s hearts surged, the clamor shaking the heavens.
Mu Daoying frowned slightly, disapproving of the crowd’s fanaticism, unaccustomed to it.
With so many people, he and Zhu Qing had no place to stand. They had no choice but to summon a cloud and hover above to watch.
On the ground lay more than a dozen headless corpses neatly arranged. These Immortal Alliance disciples had already been beheaded, their necks bearing bowl-sized wounds gushing blood everywhere.
Mu Daoying’s expression changed slightly. He was no saint after all. He instinctively looked at the heads on the ground and, seeing no familiar or dear faces, breathed a slight sigh of relief.
But in the next instant, a sorrowful pity for his own kind welled up.
Even if the Immortal Alliance had many unclear matters now, what guilt did these disciples below bear? They had never had the chance to touch those sordid dealings on ordinary days, merely following orders. Now they met their ends.
The war between righteous and demonic had begun.
In prosperity, the people suffered; in ruin, the people suffered.
–
As the war grew tense, Liu Qiao’e personally went to the front lines and had not returned to the palace for a long time.
Rumors spread in the Donghua region of her wanton cruelty on the battlefield, her atrocities in slaughtering enemy troops.
Mu Daoying had mentally prepared himself to possibly receive news of familiar deaths.
He had many friends with good relations serving in the Immortal Alliance. Swords had no eyes; there was no avoiding it.
Though he now thought things through, when that day truly came, Mu Daoying realized he had thought too simply.
The day he saw his friend’s relic was no different from usual.
Liu Qiao’e still had not appeared. He continued following Zhu Qing’s medical advice, drinking medicine daily to make up for the deficiency after the bone excision.
Zhu Qing accompanied him on walks in the garden every day.
He said patients needed to move more and get some sun.
That day, as he routinely inquired about outside changes from Zhu Qing, he suddenly heard a commotion.
Hurried footsteps approached. Several demons, drunk in broad daylight, walked over laughing loudly, trampling the peonies, peonies, and other flowers in the garden into the dirt.
Zhu Qing knew Daozhang Mu disliked these demons.
Mu Daoying’s brows furrowed lightly. He turned to avoid them, but after a few steps, he suddenly turned back, his expression drastically changing as if struck by lightning, staring at the waist of one of the demons.
The demon wore a golden belt, with small swords, daggers, jade pendants, and such trinkets dangling and clinking from it. The items were all different in style, clearly from different former owners.
Mu Daoying’s breath seemed to freeze, his blood turning to ice. He raised his eyes, staring at the demon, and asked word by word.
“Where did you get this small sword from?”
He had seen this small sword before. It was just an inch long, entirely silver with cloud patterns inlaid in gold, and the only jade part—the hilt—engraved with a tiny plum blossom.
It was a beloved item of a good friend from the Immortal Alliance. It had been a gift from a lover before his friend entered the dao, and that lover had died young. His friend cherished the small sword immensely and rarely let others touch it.
Only when drunk would he fondle it reluctantly and show it to everyone for a few glances.
“Who are you?” The demon squinted drunkenly, lazily sizing him up.
Mu Daoying did not reply.
The demon suddenly understood, picking up the small sword. “Oh? You mean this?”
“I got this from an Immortal Alliance disciple’s hand,” he said with a contemptuous laugh.
“That guy was chopped into several big pieces by me. Even on the verge of death, he clutched this short sword and wouldn’t let go. Yours truly had to pry it off with great effort.”
The demon was generous toward allies and even unfastened the short sword to hand it over, considerately asking, “Want to take a look?”
Under the sunlight, the blade reflected silvery snow-light.
Mu Daoying’s gaze flickered, stung by the sword light, nearly bringing tears.
For a moment, it was as if a thousand demons howled in his ears.
The broken branches and wilted flowers on the ground entered his eyes, glaring like severed human heads and limbs.
The sun blazed in the clear sky—why then, in broad daylight, were there still corpses strewn everywhere, evil ghosts brazenly walking this pure world under the vast heavens?
Heart demons surged within him. His hand clenched into a fist involuntarily, and a very faint strand of sword qi unconsciously swirled around him.
“Daozhang!” Zhu Qing suddenly called him.
Mu Daoying snapped back to reality, returning from the infernal ghost realm to the human world.
Zhu Qing shook his head fiercely at him, pleading in his eyes.
…Don’t do it here.
Mu Daoying fell silent.
These four or five demons—if it were before, he would not have cared. But now, shortly after his bone excision…
He could certainly seize the moment’s satisfaction and disregard life and death.
But what guilt did Zhu Qing bear? As an ordinary physician, if a fight really broke out, he might not protect him and would instead drag him to his death.
His eyes dry and nearly bleeding, Mu Daoying forcibly suppressed his indignation and hatred, closed his eyes, and shook his head.
His voice was extremely depressed, hoarse and bloodied: “No need.”
The demon looked at him puzzled, shook his head, and said, “Suit yourself, whatever.”
He staggered off drunkenly to find his companions.
Zhu Qing knew he felt terrible inside and helped him back to the side hall to rest.
Mu Daoying forcibly suppressed the regret, hatred, and pain in his heart, which grew even colder.
Yet it was not because he blamed Liu Qiao’e for her cruelty and ruthlessness in wantonly inciting slaughter.
A battle between righteous and demonic was inevitable. When two armies clashed, casualties were unavoidable.
Since ancient times, opposing sides had used every means to crush morale—intimidation, threats, even devouring enemy flesh raw. Such things were common in history.
What disheartened him was that he had perhaps still harbored thoughts of probing and persuading her before. But what he had seen and heard these days only made him cast aside that former soft weakness and naivety, seeing things more clearly.