The first rays of the sun emerged, the mist in the woods had yet to dissipate, casting golden light across the heavens and earth, brilliant everywhere.
A wisp of hazy qi flew out from the crown of his head. Mu Daoying slowly opened his eyes. His pale double pupils absorbed the celestial light, washing away worldly emotions, calm as still water, steady and resolute.
After a night of meditative breathing, the chaotic qi within his body had finally settled down somewhat.
The Immortal Alliance sealed the full cycle of spirit apertures on prisoners to prevent escapes.
After one night of adjustment, he had forced open a few, but most remained locked. There was no rushing it for the time being.
Just then, he suddenly heard someone outside Watercloud Ravine calling “Fellow Daoist Liu.” Mu Daoying waited a while but did not see Liu Qiao’e appear.
He vaguely recalled hearing faint movements at sunrise and guessed that Liu Qiao’e had already gone out then.
Mu Daoying stood up and walked to the door.
A white-clothed girl stood there, her looks more exquisite than flowers, her demeanor cold as frost. She looked very familiar. Mu Daoying recognized her as the one under the crabapple tree yesterday, who had later carried a tray alongside Liu Qiao’e.
When the white-clothed girl saw him, surprise appeared on her face. “Mu… Daoying?”
The youth was extremely tall, with an extraordinary and majestic bearing. His simple white hemp daoist robe was already worn out, but it was still neat and clean.
Newly arrived, Mu Daoying maintained a cautious attitude toward everyone and everything in Joyous Union Palace. He replied politely yet distantly, “It is indeed this one. May I know your name?”
Mu Daoying’s temperament was too aloof and refined. For a moment, it actually left Bai Mengli somewhat dazed.
How long had it been?
How long since she had seen such a person?
She had actually met Mu Daoying before, about thirty years ago.
At the Spring Terrace Dao Discussion more than thirty years prior, she had glimpsed him from afar. He had worn a black robe and wielded a sword, plucked flowers from the tower pavilion, and claimed first place with a single move.
Amid the crowd’s cheers and applause, the young prodigy had not shown the usual arrogance of geniuses. Instead, he had been extremely steady, humbly and modestly accepting the top prize.
And at that time, Han-lang had still been by her side.
When Han-lang saw her staring entranced, he had smiled and told her that he was a man too—if she kept looking like that, he would get jealous.
At the thought, moisture welled in the corners of Bai Mengli’s eyes.
She and Han-lang had been childhood sweethearts, utterly devoted since young. Yet one day, everything had suddenly changed.
When they met again, Han-lang had stuck closely to that woman’s side—the Palace Lord of Joyous Union Palace, the Immaculate Old Mother…
That fickle, narrow-minded she-devil with the face of a rakshasa.
Standing in the crowd, she had clearly seen the exhaustion and dejection beneath Han-lang’s fawning smile toward that woman.
If not for detoxifying her back then, how could Han-lang have willingly become that she-devil’s consort?
Though Mu Daoying’s appearance differed utterly from Han-lang’s, his upright and elegant demeanor still reminded her of her former lover.
Bai Mengli did not actually bear the surname Bai. Her original family name was “Song,” from one of the renowned clans of the Eastern Florescence Realm, the Cloud Mountain Song Clan.
It ranked just below the three great sects: Jade Clarity Temple, Wandering Sword Pavilion, and Supreme Harmony.
Because her lover Han Yunche had become the Immaculate Old Mother’s consort, she had hidden her identity and joined Joyous Union Palace. This background had turned her three years in the palace into endless torment, as if her body and soul were thrown into a furnace, day and night.
The “people” around her were less people and more beasts in gaudy skins, indulging in promiscuity and debauchery!
No one knew the pain in her heart.
Han-lang.
Whenever she could not endure any longer, Bai Mengli would think of the sunny, warm smile in her memories, the voice like fine wine in his whispers.
She had changed her appearance, abandoned the “Song Clan” name, left Cloud Mountain, and joined this den of depravity and the Demon Domain, all to rescue her lover from that venomous woman’s side.
It was all because she had been too reckless back then, gravely wounded while subduing that demonic beast. Otherwise, Han-lang would not have caught that she-devil’s eye and been snatched from her side.
The thought of Han-lang’s days under that she-devil’s thumb tore Bai Mengli’s heart apart. Fortunately, after enduring this long, everything was about to end. Soon, their suffering would turn to sweetness. Han-lang had told her: just wait for the Joyous Union Grand Ceremony, just wait for the Joyous Union Grand Ceremony, and that venomous woman would be done for completely.
In her three years in the palace, she had never looked up to anyone around her.
Only this Jade Sword True Heart—she had heard of his great reputation and held him in esteem.
Seeing him yesterday in Floating Flower Hall had surprised her, but also evoked a sense of shared misery in the mud.
Mu Daoying had no way of knowing what Bai Mengli was thinking. He naturally assumed she had come looking for Liu Qiao’e.
“Fellow Daoist, are you here for Fellow Daoist Liu?” said Mu Daoying. “She went out early this morning. This one does not know where.”
Bai Mengli came back to herself. She had indeed come to find Liu Qiao’e. Yesterday, Fan Shuyun’s interruption from Liu Qiao’e had prevented her from passing on what she needed to say.
The woman nodded slightly reservedly. Her cold expression softened a bit as she took out an envelope and a small porcelain vial from her sleeve. “No matter. It is not urgent even if I do not see her. With the Joyous Union Grand Ceremony approaching, this is the list of spirit flowers needed for the ceremony. Please pass these items to Liu Qiao’e, Daoist. And this—this is the healing medicine that Head Steward asked me to deliver to her.”
Mu Daoying took them. In his mind, he reflected: Rumor had it that unlike the Immaculate Old Mother’s harsh rule over her subordinates, Chen Yuro treated her disciples with great tolerance and kindness, adept at winning hearts.
For some reason, the woman before him did not leave.
Though he did not understand her intent, he would not press her. He simply waited patiently for her to speak what was left unsaid.
“Daoist Mu.” Bai Mengli paused, then bowed. “This one has also heard of Daoist Mu’s great name. This one believes Daoist Mu was wrongly accused.”
Mu Daoying was silent for a breath, his expression softening briefly. “Many thanks.”
At that moment, a vigilant voice exploded between them. “What are you doing here?!”
Liu Qiao’e had appeared at some point, staring displeased at Bai Mengli.
Bai Mengli frowned. “Liu Qiao’e, you are here—perfect—”
But Liu Qiao’e’s attitude was utterly cold. “What are you doing here?”
The malice in her words made Mu Daoying glance sideways slightly.
“This is the recent list of spirit flowers that Li Qingcheng requires,” said Bai Mengli, her attitude turning icy as well.
Just as Liu Qiao’e disliked her, Bai Mengli felt equal disgust and impatience toward Liu Qiao’e.
Mainly because this woman, like most in Joyous Union Palace, was shallow, selfish, and foolish. Impossible to communicate with. And she inexplicably treated Bai Mengli as a rival.
Bai Mengli was loath to say another word to her. She raised her face to Mu Daoying. “This one has delivered what needed saying and will not disturb Fellow Daoist further. Farewell.”
Without waiting for Liu Qiao’e to react, she turned and left, treating her as air the entire time.
Liu Qiao’e flushed red with anger, her pent-up shame and fury having nowhere to vent. She vented it all on Mu Daoying. “Have you taken a fancy to her?”
Mu Daoying: “?”
The youth was silent for a moment, then showed confusion. “This one does not understand Fellow Daoist’s meaning.”
Liu Qiao’e glared at Bai Mengli’s departing back, undisguised jealousy and loathing in her eyes.
She turned back, her face full of wary displeasure.
With the demeanor of a master interrogating her possession, she questioned the clear, steadfast man before her.
“What did she say to you?”
Mu Daoying pressed his lips together and did not reply.
He was not oblivious to worldly affairs. Their brief interactions yesterday had already made Mu Daoying realize that the woman before him was perhaps not so simple.
From her offering herself last night, their back-and-forth tug, to her pressing questions today.
This seemingly pitiable and meek woman seemed to hold an inexplicable regard for him and was gradually encroaching on the boundaries of his social interactions.
After a pause, Mu Daoying handed over the flower list and said evasively, “Just some casual small talk.”
But Liu Qiao’e was not satisfied. Her slender eyes flickered repeatedly, almost turning into an interrogation. “What casual small talk?”
Mu Daoying countered instead of answering. “Do Fellow Daoist and Fellow Daoist Bai have some grudge?”
Liu Qiao’e could naturally see his evasion.
He dared to hide things from her!
This person looked refined and mild, good-tempered and approachable, yet he had a stubbornly unyielding backbone.
What was in his conversation with Bai Mengli that could not be seen by others?!
In an instant, jealousy burned within her. She snapped, “What? Do you think I bullied her? Are you pitying the fair sex now?”
“This one has no such intent,” said Mu Daoying.
Liu Qiao’e sneered. “Daoist Mu, Chen the Head Steward ordered me to attend to you. I naturally have the right to inquire about your daily life and words. You are in Joyous Union Palace now, not Jade Clarity Temple. Do not forget your status.”
“I ask again: what exactly did you say to her?”
Mu Daoying looked at her quietly. His gaze was clear as a mirror, showing no obvious like or dislike, yet it made Liu Qiao’e feel as exposed and humiliated as if she were naked under torture.
His eyes clearly reflected her jealousy, pettiness, and malice.
After a breath of silence, Mu Daoying finally spoke. “This one understands. Many thanks for the reminder, Fellow Daoist.”
“Fellow Daoist Bai was merely concerned about your injury and came to deliver medicine.” His tone had clearly turned cold.
Liu Qiao’e’s eyes flashed. She abruptly pursed her lips tight, stung by his words for a moment.
–
That day’s subtle tension, the clash of swords, was quietly smoothed over by Mu Daoying.
He came from a family of poets, rites, and nobility, had always stayed aloof from worldly strife, and handled matters with propriety, never embarrassing others.
And so, Mu Daoying temporarily settled down in Watercloud Ravine. His daily interactions with Liu Qiao’e were mostly peaceful.
After being assigned to Mu Daoying by Chen Yuro, Liu Qiao’e had also moved to Watercloud Ravine to live, making it convenient to tend to his daily needs.
To be fair, Liu Qiao’e was not an ideal roommate.
Mu Daoying had become famous young, and his circle consisted of youths like him—prodigies and heaven’s proud sons.
He was especially close with Zhao Yange of Jade Clarity Temple and Shen Chengyin of Wandering Sword Pavilion.
The young men were full of vigor, discussing the profound Dao daily, seeking out misty mountains, living the elegant wonders that books could not exhaust.
Liu Qiao’e clearly did not belong to that group.
Friendships between people also depended on fate. Mu Daoying was mild and approachable but extremely selective about friends, placing great emphasis on “shared interests.”
Those without matching aspirations or worldviews could not be friends.
Liu Qiao’e clearly did not qualify.
Thus, while Mu Daoying pitied her circumstances, he had never entertained the thought of deeper acquaintance.