Nor did he dare love her.
Unable to hate wholeheartedly or love wholeheartedly, he could only make this choice.
Knowing he would lose but staking his life anyway—for Ling Yuan, for this master-disciple bond.
Knowing even staking his life would not harm her in the slightest—for her sake.
In the end, only he tormented himself.
With two emotions clashing and intertwining in his heart, nearly tearing him into bloodied halves, Mu Daoying said bitterly, “Kill me then.”
Liu Qiao’e sneered coldly. “Foolish.”
Mu Daoying pressed his lips tight.
Liu Qiao’e gave him no chance to speak again. She patted his cheek with Encounter Spring, her voice dry and flat. “This time, I won’t kill you. If there is a next time, use this sword to kill me.”
With that, she turned and left, without a hint of reluctance.
This battle ended with Mu Daoying’s sword shattered and body wounded—it was not a pretty fight. Yet no one present dared to comment.
Only after Liu Qiao’e left did the silence break. Zhao Yange, Shen Chengyin, and the others rushed forward.
“Ning Xia!”
But Mu Daoying seemed to have forgotten the entire world. He propped himself up with great effort on one leg, lowered his gaze, and stared quietly at Encounter Spring in his arms.
He looked very closely, very intently, as if seeing it for the first time.
Slender, pale, and emaciated fingertips trembled as they touched the sword’s body, stroking inch by inch, as if caressing the temple hair of a lover he could never have.
In the years since entering the Dao, he had ignored romance. Who would have thought that the first time his heart stirred, it would end in such a tragic conclusion.
But those few short days had truly been as brief and traceless as a spring dream.
–
The four great sects had joined forces this time for the Soul-Returning Lamp.
Now that Ling Yuan was dead and the Soul-Returning Lamp was in hand, there was no reason to linger.
As for the matters that the Bone Devouring Sect and Demonic Sect had done here, Liu Qiao’e, Song Miaoling, Lai Yongle, Zhao Yange, Di Chong, and the others had jointly reported them to the Immortal Alliance.
The follow-up matters would naturally be handled by the Immortal Alliance.
The only thing Liu Qiao’e intervened in was the handling of Zheng Shen and the villagers of Ren Family Village. She had sent a separate letter to the current Immortal Alliance Leader, Qin Xiandu.
Qin Xiandu approved her request.
A few days later, the group parted ways in Fogveil City.
Zhao Yange left the fastest. The Immortal Alliance had yet to detect any connection between that knockout drug and the Great Dream Pill, but since it involved his sect’s palm leader, he dared not take it lightly.
He brought the injured Mu Daoying back, but he didn’t even have time to care for him. Instead, he entrusted him to Zhang Suxin, Wu Yunhua, and the others before leaving Fogveil City overnight.
Next to leave were Song Miaoling and Di Chong.
Before Di Chong departed, he made a special visit to Liu Qiao’e.
This arrogant and aloof youth treated her with considerable respect. “Most people in the world follow the crowd and spread unfounded rumors.
In these days, this kid personally saw the Old Mother act decisively in battle and command with steady resolve. She was a rare hero of the current era.
I hope there will be another chance for us to gather and cooperate next time.”
With that, he cupped his hands, led a large group of Supreme Harmony Sect disciples aboard a flying boat, and left behind a crisp and decisive silhouette.
Liu Qiao’e frowned in surprise and confusion. She was utterly baffled. Apart from the image of a “firecracker-like youth, even more volatile and explosive than her,” she had almost no impression of this young man.
Shen Chengyin worried about Mu Daoying’s injuries and was unwilling to leave.
But ever since that day when he turned back, Mu Daoying had shut himself in his guest room and refused to see anyone.
Lai Yongle advised her, “Forget it, little Shen! If it were before, I would have agreed with you getting closer to that Mu kid, but now, look at how he is with the Old Mother…”
“Look at him like that—he already has someone in his heart.” Lai Yongle sighed.
Recalling the shocking and tragic showdown that had shaken everyone not long ago, Shen Chengyin felt a pang of sourness in her heart.
“Moreover, in this battle, he self-destroyed his foundation… It will be hard for him to achieve anything further.
“Come on, little Shen, there are so many young talents in this world. Whichever one you like then, your master will pick him for you! If that doesn’t work, you don’t have to get hung up on these romantic entanglements. Look at your Uncle-Master here—being single isn’t so bad, right?”
Shen Chengyin replied bitterly, “Thank you, Elder. I understand.”
After their heart-to-heart talk, the next day, Shen Chengyin left Fogveil City with the Wandering Sword Pavilion group.
No sooner had she left than Cheng Xun arrived in Fogveil City with a group of Joyous Union Sect disciples to personally escort the Old Mother back to the palace.
It was only when the Joyous Union Sect’s flying boat arrived over Fogveil City that Mu Daoying, after all these days, finally stepped out of his guest room for the first time.
This battle had left him with severe internal injuries, and nearly half his foundation had been destroyed.
The Jade Clarity Temple disciples had sought physicians, all of whom shook their heads and said there was no hope—he might become a cripple. Zhang Suxin and a few of the younger ones couldn’t help but cry, but Mu Daoying comforted them warmly instead.
When the flying boat arrived, Mu Daoying quietly stood under the tall white magnolia tree outside the inn.
His injuries were too severe; even in late spring, he felt intensely cold and was wrapped in a thick white fox fur cloak. His pale, translucent face nestled in that small circle of fluffy collar, making him look all the more strikingly beautiful yet lifeless.
Tall and graceful, like a jade tree swaying in the wind—he no longer resembled that ragged Daoist from before, but instead revealed some of his innate elegance as a noble family’s young master.
Cheng Xun spotted Mu Daoying from afar, but he neither approached nor said anything. He simply stood there silently, his pale cyan figure almost fading into muted white.
And Liu Qiao’e, who usually valued him the most, also treated him as if he were invisible.
On the way there, Cheng Xun had more or less gleaned the situation. Though he hadn’t joined the expedition this time—
He naturally understood the Old Mother’s intentions.
Though he and Liu Qiao’e interacted only like siblings, having two of her men together wasn’t ideal. She had noticed that, though he appeared open and magnanimous, Mu Daoying was different from the other male favorites—he always minded it a little.
Even though Cheng Xun wasn’t present, he still cared deeply about Liu Qiao’e’s food, clothing, lodging, and travel. The disciples attending her would report back to him and Chen Yuro regularly.
He hadn’t witnessed the showdown with his own eyes, but he knew the gist of it.
“The Old Mother truly won’t bring him back to the palace?” he asked.
Liu Qiao’e replied coldly, “Didn’t you all say I was obsessed with him? That it was best to take him and break that obsession?”
“Chen Yuro’s words weren’t wrong. Now that I look at him, he’s no different from an ordinary man.”
Had the obsession been broken? Cheng Xun didn’t agree, but he glanced at Liu Qiao’e’s expression, thought for a moment, then took the initiative to walk up to Mu Daoying and greet him. “Fellow Daoist Mu.”
Mu Daoying hadn’t expected Cheng Xun to approach. He hesitated, then nodded lightly in return. “Second Master.”
The etiquette was proper, but for some reason, seeing Cheng Xun at Liu Qiao’e’s side again made it impossible for him to return to their previous state of candid mutual appreciation.
His dark eyes quietly watched Cheng Xun. It was hard not to feel like a fishbone stuck in his throat. He tried his best to recapture that former lighthearted, poised gentlemanly rapport, but he could no longer find that mindset.
Mu Daoying paused, then realized he actually had no reason to envy Cheng Xun.
Rather, it was Cheng Xun.
This was the first time Mu Daoying had tasted the flavor of jealousy. In matters of emotion, he was still a green and clumsy youth, with a fire burning in his heart that made it hard to maintain his former composed calm.
He couldn’t help but admire how Cheng Xun had always managed to remain magnanimous.
This only led to random thoughts and comparisons with him.
With his mindset changed, he began to notice subtle things, such as Cheng Xun’s feelings for Liu Qiao’e as a man.
Before, he had thought Cheng Xun was just working under Liu Qiao’e. Now, he realized their relationship was far from that simple—
At this thought, his heart felt unwell again. Mu Daoying forced himself to calm the floating thoughts in his mind. Ling Yuan was now a scar between him and Liu Qiao’e. He couldn’t hate her, yet he couldn’t ignore his master’s death and casually cross that line.
Most likely, things between him and Liu Qiao’e ended here.
He had wanted to hate her. During those days locked in his room, he had countless times tried to hate her.
If he could truly hate her, that would be good.
Unfortunately, compared to hating her, he hated his own incompetence more.
His master had already sent a message, yet he still couldn’t protect his life.
She had made it clear long ago that she would kill him. He had clearly had countless opportunities.
She bore no personal grudge against Ling Yuan; she only wanted the Spring Scroll to attend the Spring Terrace Dao Inquiry and handle Immortal Alliance business—purely official matters.
He should hate Qingxu, the Immortal Alliance, and the shadowy ghosts hidden within it.
Born into a scholarly clan, he had seen officials fall from grace and be executed. Families didn’t blame the rulers—why blame the executioner?
With his low cultivation and powerlessness, what right did he have to vent his anger on others? Venting at Liu Qiao’e would only expose his own weakness and incompetence further—what use was that?!
And that phrase, “Don’t for…”
Don’t for what? Under these circumstances, the only explanation he could think of.
Was not to avenge him.
This was indeed the most fitting message for his master’s character.
Was his master afraid he would sink into hatred later, or did his master also see through his weakness and incompetence?
Either explanation was a pain Mu Daoying could not bear.
It was Cheng Xun who spoke first. “Daoist Mu, Fogveil Mountain is very close to Little Thatch Ridge.”
Mu Daoying looked puzzled, unsure why he suddenly mentioned this…
Little Thatch Ridge—an obscure name…
As he pondered, Cheng Xun continued, “Has Daoist Mu ever been to Little Thatch Ridge?”
Mu Daoying figured there must be a deeper meaning behind mentioning this place. It sounded vaguely familiar. He frowned and thought for a while but still couldn’t recall. “It seems… not.”
Cheng Xun said, “Though Little Thatch Ridge isn’t large and has no famous sights, its scenery is quite beautiful with some wild charm. Daoist Mu should go there once to relax.”
Mu Daoying raised his gaze to meet Cheng Xun’s.
He was certain Cheng Xun had an ulterior motive.
Cheng Xun said slowly, “Who knows, Daoist Mu might gain something unexpected.”
Mu Daoying lowered his eyelids, paused for a long moment, then said, “Thank you for the reminder, Second Master. I will certainly pay a visit.”