And just now, he had distinctly heard his master’s voice.
His master had said, “Fogveil Mountain.”
Fogveil Mountain. Mu Daoying’s heart sank slightly, certain this was information Ling Yuan had secretly passed to him.
Did his master want him to go to Fogveil Mountain? Or stay away? What secret lay in Fogveil Mountain? Had his master come for Fogveil Mountain?
He had no answers to these questions yet.
The only thing Mu Daoying knew was that no matter what, he had to go to Fogveil Mountain. But before that, he needed to shake off Liu Qiao’e and the Immortal Alliance’s surveillance.
By the time they returned to the inn, it was nearly the fourth watch. Zhao Yange came to his room as agreed.
Mu Daoying paused, then said solemnly, “Yongzhang, regarding your previous proposal, I am willing to give it a try.”
Zhao Yange had expected it, yet he still could not help but be overjoyed. “Ning Xia! You’ve finally come around!”
Mu Daoying fell silent. If not for Ling Yuan’s message, if not for what he had witnessed with his own eyes today—the Immortal Alliance’s merciless encirclement and slaughter targeting Ling Yuan—
Though it was best to capture someone alive. But judging from the Immortal Alliance’s offensive, they clearly aimed to take lives.
With that in mind, he raised his hand and undid the collar of his robe.
Zhao Yange watched him in horror.
Mu Daoying paused. “…” His gaze was complicated, at a loss for words.
“I’m not into men.” He stated it earnestly, his expression somewhat humiliated.
Mu Daoying’s pure, upright attitude, tinged with a bit of grievance, instead made Zhao Yange feel terribly embarrassed.
Zhao Yange: “Ahem…” He blushed awkwardly. “Hey, I… I’m the same… It’s just that after spending so much time in the Joyous Union Sect, one’s actions become…”
Emotions made Mu Daoying want to quickly fasten his collar impeccably, but reason forbade him from doing so.
He opened his collar wider, gesturing for Zhao Yange to look.
Zhao Yange took one glance. Beneath that icy white skin faintly emerged a blood-red line. He jolted in shock. “This…!”
Mu Daoying’s face remained expressionless as he lightning-fast pulled his collar back closed.
“This is the One Line Pull.” He gave a concise introduction.
Zhao Yange murmured, shocked at the bizarre wonders of the world, the myriad evil sorceries, and the flowery tricks played in the Joyous Union Sect.
“No wonder you… refused to leave with us before.”
Mu Daoying uttered an “Mm,” “With this One Line Pull on me, it’s not easy for me to escape. On the contrary, it might implicate you all.”
Zhao Yange: “Is there an antidote?”
Mu Daoying thought for a moment. “There is. I once saw the Old Mother keep the antidote in the mustard seed pouch in her sleeve—a small red porcelain bottle.”
“But the Old Mother watches you so closely.” Zhao Yange paced back and forth a few steps, muttering to himself. “Ning Xia, you really need to find a way to steal the antidote first, shake off the Old Mother’s surveillance, and then A-Yin and I can escort you out of the city…”
“Ning Xia.” Zhao Yange raised his eyes. “Can you find a way to gain the Old Mother’s trust? As I said, she might—”
Mu Daoying’s brow twitched lightly. He did not know what possessed him, but he subconsciously interrupted and denied it. “I dare not speculate wildly on the Old Mother’s intentions, but I will try my best.”
No matter what, he had made his stance clear. Zhao Yange breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good. I believe in you. You’ve always been the one with ideas.”
After seeing Zhao Yange off, Mu Daoying welcomed another unexpected guest.
Liu Qiao’e arrived gracefully in a white robe. Upon seeing him, she actually hesitated slightly. “You…”
Mu Daoying, however, calmly and frankly bowed. “Old Mother.”
Liu Qiao’e: “Are you alright?”
Mu Daoying could not help but lift his eyes and give her an extra glance.
She… actually minded his feelings?
After all, encircling and attacking her master in front of her disciple made Liu Qiao’e feel a bit embarrassed when facing Mu Daoying’s calm, clear eyes.
Mu Daoying was somewhat surprised that Liu Qiao’e could actually put herself in his shoes.
“I’m fine.” He shook his head and said lightly.
Liu Qiao’e let out an “Oh.” This was already the utmost of what she could do. Did they expect her to comfort Mu Daoying?
Mu Daoying, on the other hand, had already resolved to escape. Thinking back to his earlier conversation with Zhao Yange—
He needed to gain her trust—though he had not yet figured out how.
Though he had not yet taken any concrete actions.
Yet this feeling already made him feel a little sorry toward her. Mu Daoying could not help but feel a trace of guilt toward Liu Qiao’e first.
“Old Mother…” He paused, then rarely softened his voice to ask, “How are your injuries?”
Ling Yuan had long been renowned. How could Liu Qiao’e emerge unscathed from clashing with him?
But what surprised Liu Qiao’e the most was Mu Daoying’s attitude. His voice was humbly gentle, his demeanor sincere, not like pretense.
He… would he care about her too?
Liu Qiao’e hesitated for a moment. She always cared about her image and refused to show weakness in front of others. “Just superficial wounds.”
Her voice involuntarily softened as well.
Mu Daoying was slightly taken aback.
He had not expected that a casual inquiry about her wellbeing would actually soften Liu Qiao’e’s attitude.
“May I come in?”
Mu Daoying came back to his senses and nodded. “Please.”
He had always had little privacy in front of Liu Qiao’e anyway.
Liu Qiao’e felt a bit prickly all over.
In their previous interactions, though Mu Daoying had obeyed her, she knew it was all surface-level. He was soft on the outside but firm within; it was merely his survival method under her lustful tyranny.
She had come this time still thinking he would resent her for attacking Ling Yuan.
He would mock her in words, she would flare up in anger, and give him another beating—that was the interaction she had envisioned.
But she had not expected that even after his master was injured, he remained so calm. Not only did he not blame her for striking ruthlessly, he even proactively asked after her injuries.
This instead left Liu Qiao’e at a loss.
They said one doesn’t strike a smiling face. Mu Daoying’s gentle attitude truly flattered her, and her tone involuntarily lightened.
Liu Qiao’e’s gaze swept around his room.
The small inn room had been tidied spotlessly by him, not a speck of dust on the table, showing his diligent and nimble hands.
Her gaze fell on an unfinished book on his table. She picked it up on her own and looked.
Mu Daoying saw it in his eyes and sighed inwardly. Liu Qiao’e still had that arrogant temper.
“What’s this? Some Fragrance Collection?” Liu Qiao’e pointed at the cover and asked.
Mu Daoying stood with clasped hands and said respectfully: “It’s the Plucking Fragrance Collection. It means gathering orchids. Old Mother, it’s an anthology of spliced poetry from other poets’ verses.”
She did not understand. Liu Qiao’e looked toward Mu Daoying.
Moonlight filtered through the window lattice, illuminating his fine brow bones. The pupils beneath his eyes were like rippling river waters under the moonlight.
Liu Qiao’e moved her lips. She was a bit reluctant to break the current warm and peaceful atmosphere.
So she knowingly asked, “…You know a lot of characters, don’t you?”
Mu Daoying said, “I’ve just read a few more books.”
Liu Qiao’e flipped through the book with a rustling sound. “I don’t recognize these characters. Like this one—”
Mu Daoying suddenly came close to her side and glanced down. “That’s the character ‘qing’.”
He was wholly focused on the book, casually answering without distraction. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he received no response from the person beside him.
Mu Daoying frowned slightly and turned his head in confusion. “Old Mother?”
Whenever he encountered a book, he became somewhat engrossed and oblivious, completely unaware of how close they now stood.
The youth’s straight nose bridge nearly brushed diagonally past Liu Qiao’e’s temple. His clear, slightly warm breath sprinkled across her face.
Liu Qiao’e trembled all over, her heart pounding like a drum, followed by great anger. She sneered, tossed the book, and said, “Did I ask you? What, showing off how much you’ve read? I want you to teach me!”
But Mu Daoying showed no anger as she had expected.
He merely looked at her quietly with those two mercury-black eyes.
Liu Qiao’e fumed. “What are you looking at?!”
In the past, Mu Daoying would always inwardly resent Liu Qiao’e’s unreasonableness.
But times had changed. With his mindset shifted, and recalling Zhao Yange’s past words, he could not help but think more deeply.
Due to her embarrassment and anger, two flushes appeared on her cheeks. Her thin eyelids trembled, her eyes bright startlingly.
Mu Daoying’s heart stirred slightly. Inexperienced as he was with emotions, even he could not help but realize that Liu Qiao’e was not truly “angry.” It was more like a young girl’s feigned “chiding” to cover her bluff.
Looking at her, amid his apology, a trace of reluctance to hurt her slowly emerged.
Liu Qiao’e hated most when he stared straight at her. In her panic, she moved to lash out with fists and feet again.
Unexpectedly, Mu Daoying, leveraging his height, directly grasped her hand. His broad yet slender five fingers spread open, enveloping her fist in his palm.
“You!”
Mu Daoying had figured it out in his mind and thus felt a bit of child-treating indulgence toward Liu Qiao’e. His handling became much more composed.
She was not tall, petite and slender. Thinking that he was about to deceive her trust, Mu Daoying found her somewhat pitiable and cute. He slowly released her hand and, rarely using the tone he once used to coax junior brothers and sisters, said softly:
“Old Mother. It was my mistake. What poem does the Old Mother want to hear? Shall I recite it for you?”
Liu Qiao’e’s face changed. She smashed the poetry collection onto his face viciously. “Who wants you to recite!”
Mu Daoying: “…”
In the end, Mu Daoying still recited a few lines of poetry for Liu Qiao’e.
Liu Qiao’e ordered him to teach her to read and write in the coming days.
She said this in her usual imperious and bossy manner.
But the frequent glances she cast toward the Plucking Fragrance Collection flickered somewhat.
Mu Daoying saw through it. It was the gaze of one eager to learn. His heart softened unconsciously.
Since she had a desire to learn, he naturally agreed gladly.
Oddly enough, after agreeing to Zhao Yange, his mindset had changed, allowing him to observe Liu Qiao’e from a more objective perspective.
When Liu Qiao’e returned to her room, her cheeks were still hot.
She did not know what medicine Mu Daoying had taken today!
She had suffered much in her early years and was long accustomed to others’ cold mockery and sarcasm.
When others treated her gently, she instead felt twelve parts unaccustomed, like bearing a heavy burden.
But if others truly turned cold again, she would bristle with anger and unhappiness.
She walked to the window to blow in the night breeze, dispersing the heat from her face. Just as she was about to close the window, her gaze involuntarily sharpened.
Liu Qiao’e’s expression changed instantly. That girlish demeanor vanished without a trace. She straightened up and said coldly, “Sect Leader Luo has come from afar. Why not announce it in advance? This Seat appears remiss in welcoming you from afar.”
With a clack, a black figure flipped in through the window.
The next second, her wrist was seized, her body pulled forward, and she fell into a warm, dry embrace.
The man had deep features with a somewhat exotic Hu flair, yet his brows and bearing were exceedingly mild and refined.
Luo Naji chuckled lightly, tilted up her chin, and planted a soft kiss on her lips.
Before she could strike back in fury, he swiftly withdrew a zhang away. Only then did he raise his eyes, his gaze roving playfully around the room as he spoke ambiguously, “Lady E, long time no see.”
This man was none other than the de facto leader of the Demonic Sect, acting for the Demonic Lord, the sect leader of the Evil Karma Sect—Luo Naji.