The clouds drifted by, and the clear moonlight poured down. The summer breeze swept through, causing the edges of my clothes to flutter. The person in front of me was like two sides of a bamboo leaf compared to Xie Sichen—on one side bright and unrestrained, exuding fresh greenness, on the other, solemn and somber, casting a pale shadow. “To see my face and still remain so calm, you are no ordinary person.” His thick brows furrowed, “Which means I can’t let you live!” A gust of wind accompanied his words as he launched an attack. I dodged it quickly, avoiding the dense killing intent. Unwilling to get entangled, I hastily retreated. He relentlessly pursued, pressing closer step by step. After a bout of chasing and fighting, we soared over the bamboo forest and arrived at the edge of Meng Lake. Sword drawn against his palm strike, the impact reverberated through my heart meridians. I suppressed the metallic taste rising in my throat and landed gracefully on a swaying lotus leaf. In terms of pure internal power, I was no match for him. It would be better to engage closely, fighting while advancing, and make plans once near the Chilu Manor. After pondering this, I wielded my soul-severing sword and leapt towards him. This person hesitated for a moment before using his palm as a blade, striking directly at me. I pivoted on my heel, stepping onto a budding red lotus, slightly bending my knees, and swiftly moving to his right. My sword danced with the wind. Before he could turn to face me, I had already shifted behind him. Just as I was about to strike, he suddenly turned, his palm slicing past my ear. Leaping off the lotus, I performed a graceful flip, turning mid-air and immediately launching another attack. My sword flickered under the moonlight, complemented by the drifting leaves and silver light that seemed to mirror snow on a tranquil lake. The sound of the sword piercing flesh echoed as I released my grip, the sword whistling as it pierced through him. A torn piece of fabric fluttered up, catching the moonlight; I clearly saw the character “?” tattooed on his right shoulder. Wide-eyed, I flew back. The sword, imbued with the fragrance of lotuses, circled gracefully, returning to my palm. Without waiting for him to turn around, I took advantage of the wind to fly away. “Marvelous move, Moon Shadow Scattering the Gray Wolf!” An excited voice drew nearer, causing my heart to tighten. I shifted slightly to the right and saw a half-person-high rock by the lakeside explode ten meters ahead. Gripping my sword tightly, I spun around quickly. The man revealed a sickly smile, blood gushing from his right shoulder: “The Clear Madness Sword? Hahaha~ Let me see how a mere woman can be recklessly mad!” As he spoke, his left hand traced a semicircle in the air, and with a leap, he pounced towards me. I crouched down, shifted my body, sprang up, and delivered a horizontal slash. Everything became empty, without thought or form. Time seemed to pause momentarily, then surged forward like a giant bird spreading its wings, stirring massive waves within my eight meridians. The corner of my mouth curled: who says women can’t equal men? With a mighty roar, my sword hummed and my figure split into eight shadows. His fine clothes were stained with blood, covered in sword marks. He had used his internal energy to protect himself, leaving only superficial wounds. A low growl sounded as dust swirled around his feet. Before I could dodge, the dense spiral of energy knocked me back slightly, causing a sweet metallic taste to rise in my throat. “Dark Master!” Several figures appeared beside him. Shi Jiu glared at me with malice and said coldly, “Dark Master, such a little girl is not worthy of your attention. Please leave her to us.” “Shi Jiu, don’t be careless. This girl is fierce!” The Dark Master licked the wound on his arm, revealing a bloodthirsty smile. “Don’t kill her yet; I haven’t had enough fun.” “Yes!” Shi Jiu smiled cruelly and pulled out a red thread from her sleeve. “I’ll leave the half-dead rat at your feet, Dark Master.” Before she finished speaking, I charged with my sword. Shi Jiu, the torment you inflicted ten years ago will be returned tonight, one by one! My expression stern, a gust of wind rose around me. Stepping in a seven-star pattern, my wrist flicked, creating eight-petal flowers. My body moved like a willow in the breeze, and my sword gleamed like the silver moon. I vented my grievances fully, letting the sea of blood in my chest roar and surge. “Ah!” With an angry shout, my hand manifested as a blade, my sword sang sorrowfully, and with eyes wide open, I passed through her body. The muffled sound of flesh tearing apart filled the air, and my fingertips were stained with warm droplets. Those standing in front of me were dumbfounded, Tang San’s cheek twitched slightly, and he raised his blade to attack. Good, I’ve been waiting for you! I chuckled softly, tossing my long hair, feeling the joyous beat in my heart. The cool breeze carried the faint scent of lotus. Shadows danced chaotically, swords screamed, and Tang San, whom I once thought was unfathomably powerful, now seemed unremarkable! My lips tightened slightly as I prepared to deliver the fatal blow when suddenly a numbness shot through my fingers, followed by a sharp pain in my heart. Clutching my chest, I staggered back two steps. What’s going on? I lifted my left hand and saw red threads creeping from the tips of my fingers towards my palm, growing more pronounced. I rubbed my skin hard, but the five red lines didn’t disappear; instead, they grew faster. “HmphShi Jiu“ Liuyao smiled charmingly, revealing two small fangs, “It is said that this tea is exquisite in color, aroma, and taste. The first sip feels like a fragrant, soft, and warm tongue caressing your palate.” “Hmm, it’s nothing special.” The Ninth Prince disdainfully glanced at the teacup and continued reading. “So Master doesn’t like it.” Liuyao withdrew the porcelain cup dejectedly, mumbling under his breath, “Among the dozen Princes, only Master doesn’t have a concubine attending personally.” He stole a glance at the Ninth Prince and ventured tentatively: “Today’s young lady…” Ling Yiran slowly raised his head, gazing at him quietly, raising an eyebrow, his tone measured: “Liuyao, you’re becoming increasingly talkative.” Seeing this, Liuyao was startled, then immediately knelt down: “Forgive me, Master, forgive me.” Ling Yiran supported his face with one hand, his captivating eyes slightly closed: “You may leave.” “Yes.” Liuyao hung his head and slowly backed to the door, stepped over the threshold, and gently closed the door. A gentle breeze came, playfully tousling his black hair. Ling Yiran lightly curved his lips, slowly opening his eyes: “Chengbi, come in.” “Yes.” Ling Yiran leaned against the pearwood chair, lazily resting his chin on his hand: “And then?” “Afterward, the Mistress of the Xuan Palace left halfway through, dissatisfied that no one nominated her, and everyone dispersed.” The tall man raised his head, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, “Should we seize or abandon the position of the leader of the martial alliance? Please give your orders, Your Highness.” Ling Yiran hadn’t tied his hair up; his sleek, jet-black hair flowed freely behind him, his peach blossom eyes half-closed: “Leader of the martial alliance?” He sneered lightly, his eyes shifting, his gaze sharp: “Chengbi, when geese fly south, the lead goose tires first. We must not lose sight of the bigger picture due to minor setbacks, disrupting the entire strategy.” “Yes, I understand.” Ling Yiran straightened himself, lightly touching a thin sheet of paper on the table: “Zhu Su sent a secret letter, saying that traces of my sister have been spotted recently.” His beautiful eyes opened slightly, “She should be sixteen this year, very much resembling her mother, and should still be wearing a carved white jade pendant. Unfortunately, Zhu Su isn’t skilled in painting; otherwise, it would be easier.” He slowly stood up, glaring fiercely at Lin Chengbi: “No matter what, we must find her this time.” “Yes! I obey your command!” Ling Yiran turned his face indifferently, waving his hand carelessly. When he looked back, only a slight breeze remained by the window. Ling Yiran gazed at the bright, continuous moon outside the window, a triumphant smile playing on his lips: “Still alive, it’s worth all my thoughts. Under the moon? Under the moon. Breaking osmanthus in the nine heavens, meeting beauties under the moon.” He arched his eyebrows, exuding a seductive charm: “I wonder if compared to that woman, whether you win or lose.” My mind was dizzy, feeling a pure yang internal force flowing through my meridians, warming me gently. Slowly opening my eyes, I was surrounded by darkness. My right palm was gently lifted, the palm pressed against warm skin. “Regulate your breathing.” A clear voice came from the opposite side. I complied, sitting cross-legged and channeling my inner energy. The tangled internal energy gradually smoothed out along my seven meridians and eight vessels under the guidance of the warm current. The fine threads wrapped around my marrow were shattered by the deep internal force, disappearing bit by bit into nothingness. After two small cycles of energy circulation, the stabbing pain was replaced by a soothing sensation. Finishing my meditation, I opened my eyes in the darkness and softly spoke: “Young Hero Ye, thank you.”

With a soft hiss, a small spark ignited on the opposite side. The dim orange glow cast a warm hue over his stern face, and in the flickering light, his phoenix-like eyes shimmered with an extraordinary brilliance.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said calmly, glancing at my hand as he spoke in a low voice. “Your left palm.”

I extended my left hand, palm up. He took the tiny flame and examined it carefully, his brow furrowing slightly. I watched him nervously, unsure of what was happening. “May I ask, what kind of poison is this?”

Ye Jinglan raised his head, his tall figure sitting upright with composure. “It’s called Sī Sī Rù Kòu (Thread by Thread).”

“Sī Sī Rù Kòu ?” I looked down at my palm, noticing that of the five red lines that had been there before, only the one on my middle finger remained.

“Sī Sī Rù Kòu is one of the four great poisons, and it is extremely dangerous. Once it touches the human body, it spreads like wild vines, growing uncontrollably.” He looked directly at me, his eyes steady and calm. “At first, every time the red lines extend, they cause excruciating pain, as if countless threads are entangling both body and mind. Though the pain is intense, it poses no immediate threat to life. However, once the red lines reach the heart, the body’s seven meridians and eight vessels will shatter instantly, causing the victim to endure agony akin to being pierced by ten thousand arrows, struggling for a long time before finally succumbing.”

What a cruel poison. I clenched my fist tightly and shook my head lightly.

“The spread of Sī Sī Rù Kòu is rapid, and the line on your middle finger is the main thread. As long as the main thread survives, the poison remains active. Only by using internal energy to suppress it can its growth be slowed.”

I lifted my head and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you. If it weren’t for your intervention today, I fear I would already be dead.” Then, suddenly recalling a question, I hesitated briefly but decided to ask, “Young Master Ye, were you also led here by the people of Qian Long Gate?”

Though his expression remained cold, his eyes betrayed a hint of warmth. “Mm.”

“May I ask, when did you begin to suspect them?”

“Years ago, it was Qian Long Gate that informed my father about the Golden Cage Array and the other three great mystical formations. Yet in Jiao City, Xie Sichen pretended to know nothing about them.” He placed the tinderbox on the ground, his hands resting near his knees, sitting straight as an arrow.

“Oh.” I nodded in understanding.

“And what about you?”

“Huh?” I looked at him in surprise. Was he actually initiating a conversation?

Ye Jinglan gazed at me indifferently, his voice soft. “When did you begin to suspect them?”

“I…” I hesitated for a moment but decided to tell him the truth. “When I was young, I was kidnapped by the Ri Yao Sect. At the time, I memorized the figures and mannerisms of two of the thieves. After observing them for two days, I began to suspect that the guardians of Qian Long Gate were those same two individuals, so I followed them here, only to uncover such a shocking truth. It turns out that Qian Long Gate and Ri Yao Sect were originally one and the same—the two sect leaders are twin brothers.”

I stared intently at him, slowly explaining. “There are two men, not one. During the fight earlier, I saw the character ‘?’ carved into his right shoulder—a question mark made of three horizontal strokes.” I drew it in the air. “And on Xie Sichen’s body, there was a circle. Both characters are missing strokes; if completed, they would form the characters ‘Ri’ (日) and ‘Yao’ (尧). Moreover, these two men look strikingly similar, suggesting they must be twins.”

His eyebrows arched slightly, a flicker of doubt passing through his eyes.

I blinked, then suddenly understood something after a pause, hurriedly blurting out, “Uh, I didn’t spy on them. It was my senior sister who saw it and told me.” My voice quivered as embarrassment grew, “And… and…” Gathering courage, I looked at him earnestly. “That time in the dense forest—it really wasn’t me. Truly, it wasn’t!” Biting my lower lip, I tried to think of evidence to prove my innocence when suddenly a clear voice interrupted.

“I know.”

“Huh?” My eyes widened in surprise and delight as I looked at him. Ye Jinglan’s phoenix eyes lifted slightly, carrying a faint smile.

“Thank you.” I curved my lips, breaking into a joyful grin. I hadn’t expected the misunderstanding to be resolved so easily—it felt wonderful. “Earlier, you were injured, right?” My smile faded, replaced by concern as I looked at him.

“Just a minor wound,” Ye Jinglan dismissed it casually.

“But even minor wounds need treatment and bandaging.” I stood up and moved behind him, where I saw a deep gash, nearly exposing the bone. And he called this a minor wound? Looking at his straight posture, I couldn’t help but marvel again at this man’s resilience. Despite a severe injury on his back, he remained calm and conversed with me without showing any discomfort. Applying force with my fingers, I tore off a clean strip of cloth from my inner garment with a sharp sound.

“Do you have any Jin Chuang medicine?” I asked softly.

Without turning around, he silently handed me a small wooden box. Opening it, I carefully applied some ointment to his wound. The flesh around the edges of the cut was raw and exposed, and blood had congealed into a dark ochre color. A growing sense of guilt filled my heart. Taking a deep breath, I whispered, “I’m sorry, Young Master Ye. This is all because of me dragging you into this.”

“Xiu Yuan,” he clearly pronounced the two syllables.

I froze, unsure of how to respond.

“My courtesy name,” he explained simply, as concise as ever.

I nodded in understanding. “Xiu Yuan.”

“Mm.”

“Yun Qing.” I continued applying the medicine, “My given name.”

After a while, he spoke deeply, “Yun Qing.”

“Mm.” I responded softly, covering his wound with the cloth strip. He looped it around in front of him, then handed me both ends. Repeating this several times, we finally wrapped the deep gash securely, tying a tight knot on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” Ye Jinglan turned his body, the frost in his eyes melting slightly.

“No need.” I smiled warmly at him, then used the faint light of the fire to survey our surroundings. Three sides of the space were rock walls, while the only earthen wall occasionally shed streaks of gray stone. Looking up, the three rock faces formed a semi-cave. It seemed we had fallen from the earthen wall, and above us, soil continued to fill in. If we didn’t find an exit soon, we’d likely suffocate here.

Ye Jinglan picked up the tinderbox and stood, tapping along the rock wall. The sound shifted from sharp to muffled. He handed the tinderbox to me. “There seems to be a cave behind this. Stand back.”

Taking the tiny flame, I retreated to the corner. He pressed down with his foot, then delivered a powerful palm strike. The rock shattered, and dust flew up. Covering my head, I coughed violently for a while before slowly raising my head. Beyond the half-man-high stone tunnel, a faint light glimmered. Could it be the exit? My eyes widened with joy as Ye Jinglan bent down, waving to me from the other side, his expression gentle.

Leaping over the broken rocks, I squeezed through. What lay before my eyes left me utterly stunned: stalactites of all shapes and sizes cascaded downward, stretching endlessly. Beneath the cliffs, melon-sized night pearls were scattered about. Hundreds of pearls emitted a soft, radiant glow, bathing the towering stone columns in dazzling colors. Droplets of water slid slowly down the crystalline tubes of stone, landing on exotic flowers and grass below.

The leaves of the grass shimmered like kingfisher feathers, their tips a coral red, dewdrops glistening delicately, swaying gently in the breeze. The blossoms resembled crabapple flowers, their delicate silk threads tinged with rouge, exuding grace and elegance, imbued with tender emotion.

How could plants grow in such a dark underground environment?

Frowning, I approached the vibrantly colored flora. To my amazement, they were crafted from gemstones and pearls—delicate, exquisite, and masterfully made.

“Yun Qing.” Ye Jinglan called softly. I quickly caught up with him, weaving through layers of stone columns until we stood beneath a towering stele four or five zhang high. We felt insignificant, overshadowed by the immense structure. Gazing upward, I saw four large cursive characters inscribed on the black surface of the stele: “Sleeping Moon Dreamland.”

Ye Jinglan murmured the small inscription at the base of the stele: “My wife’s tomb…”

A wave of dizziness washed over me, a haze clouding my senses. An invisible hand plucked at my heartstrings, evoking mournful echoes. Unaware, tears fell in response to the sorrow.

Two sleeves swept by like plum blossoms in the wind. By the edge of the River of Forgetfulness, crimson flowers bloomed, still stained with blood.

Spring melancholy lingered unawakened, voices choked with grief. Life after life, eternally severed from you.

Beneath the lake lies the Crystal Palace, and within the netherworld rests the lonely grave.