Liu Qiao’e only woke from her drunken stupor the next day.
Mu Daoying knelt and sat by her side, flipping through an idle book on the desk. Since Old Mother had not dismissed him, he could not take his leave and simply kept watch over her through the night.
Bored in the night, he noticed a copy of Snow Window Musings on the desk, authored by the Recluse of Yang Creek.
The Recluse of Yang Creek was also one of the great scholars whom Mu Daoying greatly admired in his daily life. Upon suddenly seeing Snow Window Musings on Liu Qiao’e’s desk, he paused slightly, feeling a bit surprised.
The full bookshelves in the side hall, along with this copy of Snow Window Musings, showed that Liu Qiao’e’s taste in books was remarkably similar to his own.
Yet as Mu Daoying touched the cover and pages of the book, they still carried the fresh scent of new ink, and doubts arose in his heart: ‘…A coincidence?’
In some ways, Mu Daoying was actually a laid-back sort who went with the flow and found contentment in the moment. Once he opened Snow Window Musings, he unwittingly immersed himself in it, losing track of the passing of day and night.
When Liu Qiao’e woke, she saw the morning sun on the beams.
Mu Daoying sat by the window, his black hair cascading to the floor like lacquer, clad in loose white robes that trailed elegantly. He held a scroll in his hands, exuding a gentle and serene air as if at home.
She paused, her heart beating faster uncontrollably.
She had been illiterate before, only managing to learn to read a few books and write a few characters after meeting that person.
It was also because of that person that she learned the line, “Lazily reading Daoist books without rising, watching her comb her hair beneath the crystal curtains.”
The scene before her eyes matched that sentiment of tranquil marital leisure rather well.
As if she and Mu Daoying were truly a newlywed couple.
Mu Daoying was her husband.
Liu Qiao’e felt a panic in her heart, half-suspecting that this serene scene of tranquil years was her own dream.
It was not until Mu Daoying noticed her awake that he set down the book and approached. “Old Mother.”
Sunlight passed through the window like shattered glass, its faint glow reflecting in her eyes. Liu Qiao’e sat up, clutching the covers, and eyed him coldly.
Mu Daoying kept his gaze lowered submissively, standing with sleeves hanging.
This scene of perfect propriety and measured distance shattered the faint fantasy in Liu Qiao’e’s heart.
Had he truly submitted? Hardly. He had merely switched to a milder, more subtle way to continue his resistance.
She had made him her male consort, and so he played the role dutifully, adopting the posture of a loyal retainer.
Liu Qiao’e felt as if drenched in cold snow, snapping awake from her illusion. She coldly spread her arms. “I want to get up. Serve me in dressing.”
Mu Daoying hesitated for a moment. How could he ever serve someone in dressing and washing, let alone a woman?
As he delayed, Liu Qiao’e grew impatient and urged him. “Have you gone foolish?!”
Mu Daoying closed his eyes and took a deep breath before picking up the short jacket from the bedside. “My apologies for the offense.”
She wore only a red bandeau now, standing barefoot in the morning light with an exceedingly slender waist and shapely breasts. Her snow-white skin was blindingly pale.
Mu Daoying glanced once and dared not look again, lowering his lashes and focusing intently on the jacket in his hands.
A woman’s body differed from a man’s, which was straight and flat. Every curve reminded Mu Daoying of the wonders of male-female creation.
His fingertips fumbled cautiously, trying his utmost to avoid her skin. Yet when tying the front laces, his knuckles inevitably brushed her soft breasts.
The softness startled him inwardly, and it took all his composure to maintain a calm expression.
He was, after all, a vigorous young man. Though he truly harbored no interest in romance, his yang energy was at its peak, and the body’s heated reactions—flushed face and all—were beyond his heart’s control.
Moreover, Mu Daoying had immersed himself in cultivation for decades without any contact with women. This sudden touch carried an immense impact. For a virgin youth, shame and agitation were almost inevitable.
This did not mean he harbored any unspeakable fantasies or desires toward Liu Qiao’e. Even if he did, to appreciate beauty and admire the young and graceful was only human.
What moved the heart was precisely what made humans endearing.
To feel the stir and yet restrain it was what made them respectable.
Mu Daoying stiffened for a moment, closing his eyes tightly to steady his mind. This only made him even more afraid to move rashly, slowing his actions further—and the slower he went, the more panicked he became.
Sweat suddenly dripped from his temples, his back soaked.
He had never felt this embarrassed even during the fierce competition for top spot at the Spring Terrace Dao Inquiry.
While Mu Daoying struggled in great embarrassment, Liu Qiao’e only found his movements inexplicably slow and clumsy, infuriating her.
Unable to endure it, she shoved him away. “You can’t even dress me properly! I’ll do it myself!”
Mu Daoying let out a breath as if spared from disaster. As he retreated to his spot, his heart still pounded like drums.
Jade Emperor, pardon this offense, Your Excellency. He looked troubled and murmured to himself.
He could no longer stay in this room. Mu Daoying thought for a moment, stepped out, and called for hangover soup.
He had seen yesterday how poorly she handled her liquor and anticipated her morning headache, so he had specially instructed the young attendants in the hall around the fifth watch.
Liu Qiao’e had just smoothed her skirt and finished dressing when Mu Daoying brought the hangover soup before her. “Old Mother, have some hangover soup first.”
Liu Qiao’e eyed him suspiciously, but Mu Daoying’s composure was excellent; he had already regained his usual calm. Only a faint flush behind his ear hid amid his raven-black hair, hard to notice.
Because of his earlier submissive coldness that morning, Liu Qiao’e felt displeased and did not notice Mu Daoying’s embarrassment.
As she drank the hangover soup, she flipped through the palace affairs delivered to her desk that morning.
“Has the Immortal Alliance sent the list yet?”
Mu Daoying knew this was directed at him. He sat gracefully across from Liu Qiao’e and shook his head. “Not yet.”
His whole body still felt hot. He casually picked up the tea on the desk and drained it.
“Cough…”
Liu Qiao’e looked up to see Mu Daoying frozen in a strange posture, coughing repeatedly.
…It was scalding tea.
His tongue went numb from the heat.
Distracted, he had not noticed the tea was piping hot.
His fine upbringing kept him from spitting it out. With Liu Qiao’e still watching, Mu Daoying forced a calm swallow.
With his cultivation, of course he was not scalded, but the taste was unpleasant.
Liu Qiao’e saw nothing amiss and buried her head again.
The inner chamber soon fell into quiet.
As Liu Qiao’e handled official duties, Mu Daoying preemptively sorted for her the letters needing replies, those not urgent, and those of no value.
He was meticulous and rigorous by nature, suited to be a secretary even if not a male consort.
Though Liu Qiao’e had climbed to the sect master’s position, it was mainly through martial coercion; she truly lacked skill in handling these flowery documents.
The more she read, the more her head ached. In a fit of anger, she swept the official papers off the desk in a clattering mess.
Mu Daoying patiently sorted them one by one for her.
Seeing this, Liu Qiao’e simply let him handle the less important official papers.
She trusted Mu Daoying’s character completely and knew he would never falsify anything here.
With his help at her side, Liu Qiao’e’s efficiency in processing documents improved greatly.
By noon, the Immortal Alliance finally sent the list of companions.
Zheng Yongshou would not go; Supreme Harmony Sect arranged others.
As usual, Wandering Sword Pavilion and Cloud Mountain Song Clan would be led by Lai Yongle and Song Miaoling with their disciples.
Jade Clarity Temple followed suit with Supreme Harmony Sect: Qu Yating returned to the sect to report, leaving Zhao Yange to lead the Jade Clarity disciples in the pursuit.
Upon receiving the letter, Liu Qiao’e glanced over it and pointed out the characters “Zhao Yange” to Mu Daoying.
“Isn’t this your friend?”
Mu Daoying paused his brush and glanced once. “His temperament is straightforward and rash. In the coming months, Old Mother will likely need to bear with him more.”
Liu Qiao’e gave a light hum. She liked this phrasing, liked his natural tone.
As if they were one, he casually asked her to look after the junior, carrying an indescribable natural intimacy.
Because of this one sentence from Mu Daoying, she lost herself in wild thoughts.
But the next instant, upon seeing the name Zhao Yange, she inevitably thought of Shen Chengyin.
It was well-known that Mu Daoying, Zhao Yange, and Shen Chengyin formed the most famous trio in the entire Eastern Florescence Realm.
Spring Terrace Dao Inquiry, plucking flowers from the towers.
How youthful and romantic, once beyond her reach.
Liu Qiao’e specially scanned the Wandering Sword Pavilion’s list several times but did not see Shen Chengyin’s name.
She breathed a sigh of relief, then glanced at Mu Daoying’s fair and handsome face so close by, feeling a twinge of jealousy.
“Since Zhao Yange is going… your romantic confidante, Shen Chengyin, doesn’t seem to be?”
Mu Daoying fell silent before correcting her. “A Yin is Ying’s friend, not a romantic confidante.”
Liu Qiao’e: “You are my male consort now. I don’t like you getting too close to other women. Do you know?”
Mu Daoying fell silent again, this time longer. He hated her domineering ways, her meddling in his friendships. Only after a while did he say flatly: “Ying accepts the teaching.”
Legend had it that in the far ancient times when the primordial chaos first parted.
Two mighty cultivators had appeared in the Eastern Florescence Realm.
One male and one female, they were twin siblings.
The female was named Jiang Wenzhao, revered by later generations of the righteous path as the “Holy Monarch.”
The male was named Jiang Chongming, who founded the Demonic Sect and was venerated by it as the “Demonic Ancestor.”
Though born of the same mother, the siblings walked utterly opposing paths, each leading the righteous and demonic factions in endless wars.
This great war between good and evil ultimately ended with the Holy Monarch defeating the Demonic Ancestor and sealing him beneath the “Nameless Weak Water.”
Afterward, Holy Monarch Jiang Wenzhao founded a sect, authored books, and gathered the fortune of the righteous path, suppressing the Demonic Sect for millennia.
Unfortunately, the good times did not last. Not long after, the Holy Monarch succumbed to old injuries from that battle, passing away and returning her soul to the Dao mountains.
After her death, her body transformed into three Dao artifacts.
Her heart became the “Soul-Returning Lamp.”
Her spine became the “Mountains and Rivers Sword.”
Her eyes became the “Trace World Mirror.”
These three Dao artifacts were later guarded by three great sects respectively.
Back then, the Holy Monarch had used her own bloodline, connected to the Demonic Ancestor, to seal Jiang Chongming.
After her death, the Demonic Sect firmly believed that these three Dao artifacts from her flesh and blood could likewise break the seal, summon the Demonic Ancestor, and overthrow the world.
In recent centuries, with the turning of heavenly fate, turbid qi rising and pure qi sinking.
The long-fragmented Eight Demonic Sects began to stir, scurrying about to break the Nameless Weak Water seal.
At this critical juncture, True Person Ling Yuan suddenly colluded with the Demonic Sect, stole the “Seven Treasures Soul-Returning Lamp,” and defected. One could imagine how grave this case appeared in the eyes of the world.
Fortunately, of the three Dao artifacts, two remained strictly guarded at Supreme Harmony Sect and Wandering Sword Pavilion. There was still room for maneuver.
For these months, the Immortal Alliance had never ceased pursuing Ling Yuanzi’s whereabouts. Not long ago, word came that Ling Yuan had appeared near the Fogveil Mountain Mineral Vein.
The great sects submitted their lists. Liu Qiao’e saw no issues, and after two more days of preparation, the group set off.