#12: Gentleness

On a winter night, the human world was silent, devoid of the chirping of insects. The only sounds were the villagers’ shoes crunching against the snow.

Han Shu wasn’t in the house; she had gone to inspect the Drought Earth Formation. Shi Luoyi, resting her head on her arms, tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

In her heart, she feared entering Qingshui Village.

If the arrival of the junior sister had thrown her life into chaos, then Qingshui Village was the greatest turning point.

Originally, she could control her inner demons, but in Qingshui Village, she had helplessly watched Elder Han Shu die because of her. This became the source of her overwhelming guilt and deepened her inner turmoil. The closer they got to Qingshui Village, the more tense she became.

She was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to change what had happened and save Elder Han Shu in time.

From the sheep pen came the bleating of a lamb shivering from the cold. Unable to sleep and knowing that tonight’s meditation would be fruitless, Shi Luoyi decided to get up, put on her clothes, and take a walk.

The habitable houses in the village weren’t far apart, so she didn’t expect to see Bian Lingyu being harassed just a few steps away.

Shi Luoyi’s emotions were always complicated, so she instinctively hid herself.

She also wanted to see how Bian Qingxuan’s older brother would handle this situation. After all, in her mind, if the younger sister was full of malice, the elder brother should at least have some ability to protect himself.

At the entrance of the village stood an ancient banyan tree, evergreen throughout the seasons. Even in the coldest winter days, the tree only darkened slightly in color, with fewer aerial roots hanging down, yet it still appeared lush and vibrant. Shi Luoyi cast a spell and concealed herself among the canopy.

Looking down, she saw that in the depths of winter, Bian Lingyu had been sitting in the courtyard, whittling something. Xue An emerged from the house they shared, holding a jug of cold water, and poured it over Bian Lingyu’s head.

Xue An leaned against the doorway and sneered, “I’ve hated you for a long time. You refuse kindness and choose punishment instead. Little Junior Sister’s affection is something countless others would beg for, yet you, a sickly wretch, trample it repeatedly! Brother? Are you really Junior Sister’s brother? I heard that the Bian family has only one young lady and a stray dog they picked up.”

Cold water dripped from Bian Lingyu’s jet-black hair, sliding down his long, dark lashes. He raised his eyes to look at Xue An, his gaze icy cold.

Xue An laughed, “What? Are you going to fight me?”

Shi Luoyi gripped the tree trunk tightly. For a moment, even she thought Bian Lingyu might retaliate. However, he said nothing, not even bothering to wipe the water from his face. Wearing his half-dry clothes, he simply moved further away, coming under the banyan tree where she was hidden, and continued carving whatever was in his hand.

Shi Luoyi looked closely and realized that Bian Lingyu was intently whittling a few pieces of peach wood.

The cold water soon froze into frost on his eyelashes and collar, but he acted as if he didn’t notice. Beneath his hands, a peach wood sword gradually took shape.

Xue An stood by the door, originally intending to prevent this mortal from returning to the house, deliberately embarrassing him. Unexpectedly, Bian Lingyu showed no intention of going back inside. Feeling uneasy, Xue An muttered a curse under his breath, “Coward, bad omen. Did you think that broken sword of yours would protect you in Qingshui Village?”

The insult in his words was too heavy, and even Shi Luoyi couldn’t help but frown upon hearing them. Yet the youth under the tree remained unmoved, as if carved from cold stone.

As for Xue An, Shi Luoyi had an extremely strong impression of him. He was one of the disciples who adored Bian Qingxuan the most, and he too would die in Qingshui Village!

Three years ago, when Bian Qingxuan first ascended the mountain, Xue An had relentlessly pursued her.

Unlike other disciples, Xue An came from an excellent background. His father was related to the Sect Leader, and privately, Xue An could call the Sect Leader of Hengwu Sect “Uncle.” His mother’s family was also of royal lineage—not from a small country like Nanyue, but from the royal bloodline of the Zhao Kingdom.

Although Shi Luoyi had a Dao Lord as her father, making her lineage superior to Xue An’s, he was still considered one of the top disciples.

In their past life, Xue An had been like a sharp blade in Bian Qingxuan’s hands, secretly dealing with those who had conflicts with her. Including Shi Luoyi, who had been tripped up by him once or twice. She disliked Xue An.

Knowing that Xue An was the Sect Leader’s nephew only made her despise him more.

But Shi Luoyi never imagined that Xue An would treat Bian Lingyu like this in private. Moreover, hearing him mention the siblings’ origins left her astonished. This was the first time Shi Luoyi had heard fragments of Bian Lingyu’s background from someone else’s mouth.

From Xue An’s words, it seemed he had investigated the origins of his beloved Bian Qingxuan, discovering that Bian Lingyu was merely an adopted child of the Bian family. No wonder Xue An didn’t show respect like the other disciples but instead secretly tormented Bian Lingyu.

But was their background really like that?

After Shi Luoyi fell into demonic ways in their previous life, she intentionally investigated their origins. By then, decades had passed, and the old Bian family estate had already been plundered by bandits, reduced to ruins and impossible to verify.

Moreover, Bian Qingxuan cherished her brother so deeply—more than a blood sibling—that she wouldn’t allow outsiders to doubt him.

Shi Luoyi’s blade resonated with her feelings, brimming with restrained power aimed at Xue An.

She tightened her grip on the hilt and silently calmed it in her mind: “Shh, quiet. Let’s watch a little longer.”

After a while, Xue An didn’t do anything else. He closed the door, clearly not planning to let Bian Lingyu return to the house tonight. Whether out of ignorance or malice, forcing a mortal to wear wet clothes and endure the freezing wind all night might very well cost Bian Lingyu half his life.

Now, around the banyan tree, only Shi Luoyi and the silver-clad youth beneath it remained.

In her past life, Shi Luoyi rarely had the chance to understand Bian Lingyu. Moreover, almost everyone surrounding Bian Qingxuan harbored ill intentions toward her. Shi Luoyi had naturally assumed that Bian Lingyu was also one of Bian Qingxuan’s “good brothers.”

However, after hearing Xue An’s words just now, she realized that Bian Lingyu didn’t seem to care about Bian Qingxuan’s feelings.

A spark of curiosity ignited in her heart. Was it really possible for someone to dislike Bian Qingxuan? And for a brother who spent every day with her, no less?

The nights in Cangshan Village were bitterly cold. In the sheep pen, the lambs huddled into their mother’s embrace, bleating pitifully.

The villagers were already struggling to take care of themselves and hadn’t had time to build a warmer shelter for the sheep. As a result, the newborn lambs were especially pitiful.

Through her eyes, the youth beneath the tree seemed as helpless as those lambs.

His face was pale, his fingers frozen red. Without Bian Qingxuan around, everyone felt free to bully him. Among the cultivators, he was just an ordinary mortal, enduring day after day of loneliness.

Bian Qingxuan’s unique care for him, invisible to others, became like poisonous thorns aimed at him. Only by staying close to Bian Qingxuan could he live safely and peacefully.

Logically speaking, he should have been more dependent on Bian Qingxuan.

But he wasn’t.

He resembled a waning moon—a strange description, but one that Shi Luoyi couldn’t help but think of. The youth under the tree was like a solitary, cold moon about to fall.

She watched him silently and calmly whittling the sword. Her long-dormant conscience, nearly extinguished after becoming a demonic cultivator, stirred uncomfortably at this moment. A sudden unease filled her heart.

Shi Luoyi had never been so acutely aware—

For three years at Mingyou Mountain, Bian Lingyu, just a mortal, had done nothing wrong. Yet because of his association with the famous sister of a prominent figure, he had become a target for both those who adored and those who despised Bian Qingxuan.

Hadn’t her past self been another Xue An? Similarly, because of everything Bian Qingxuan had done, she had taken it for granted to heap accusations upon him.

A faint tightness settled in Shi Luoyi’s chest. The wind and snowstorm raged in Cangshan Town, and the frail youth beneath the tree appeared even more fragile.

The girl observed him for a long while, then quietly cast a spell in her palm, using the ancient banyan tree to form an array that shielded him from the wind and snow.

Watching Bian Lingyu meticulously carve the peach wood, she thought that this person was both cold and foolish.

What use was carving peach wood? He might as well heed Xue An’s words and obediently cling to his sister, seeking Bian Qingxuan’s protection.

Afraid that his stubbornness might get him killed by the cold, she decided to stay in the tree for the night, watching him tirelessly carve the peach wood without rest.

Under the banyan tree, Bian Lingyu paused in his carving of the peach wood.

The effects of the Soul-Purging Pill would vanish at night, and the pill itself was like a deadly poison, prematurely consuming his body and gradually losing its effectiveness. The bone spikes had already retracted into his body, leaving behind a dense, gnawing pain. At this point, he was no different from an ordinary mortal—perhaps even weaker.

He had been trapped in this powerless body for years, unable to deal with even someone like Xue An.

But he held no interest in dealing with such trash as Xue An. His true goal was the calamitous Untransformed Toad wreaking havoc on the mortal world.

Bian Lingyu knew what Bian Qingxuan was waiting for. She was waiting for him to give up, to turn back, to let go of the person who would never look at him.

Bian Lingyu had heard of mortals taming eagles. He was like the fierce eagle Bian Qingxuan intended to break into submission.

Sometimes, he didn’t know how long he could wait for that girl—three years, five years, or perhaps ten?

In truth, he didn’t seek an answer.

Perhaps he was inherently stubborn and arrogant. Even as he grew weary of himself, he still obstinately remained where he was.

The moment the wind and snow stopped, the chill dissipated, and warmth slowly returned to his body.

Bian Lingyu tightened his grip on the dagger. With his current mortal body, he couldn’t see the source of the spell or detect the flow of the Five Elements. But he knew something was amiss.

The lambs in the pen continued to bleat pitifully. Relying on his sharp intuition, Bian Lingyu raised his eyes to look into the tree.

But the banyan tree’s dense foliage obscured everything.

Bian Lingyu pressed his thin lips together, his eyes flickering with cold indifference.

Who could the person in the tree be? He furrowed his brow, assessing whether the presence in Cangshan Town was friend or foe.

Applying slight pressure to his palm, Bian Lingyu subtly allowed the peach wood to cut his hand, letting his blood soak into the wood. Then he sat back down under the tree, waiting for the entity to reveal itself.

But throughout the second half of the night, there was no movement from that person.

That ethereal spell gently shielded him from the wind and snow, allowing him to pass the night in peace.

Before dawn, he sensed the spell dissipate. When Bian Lingyu looked again at the banyan tree, he realized that the person had already silently departed.

As the first light of dawn broke through, the large dose of Soul-Purging Pills he had consumed began to take effect once more.

The bone spikes rebelliously emerged from his sleeves, brutally hunting for any lingering traces of that person’s presence. With his deteriorating health, he found it increasingly difficult to control them.

But when the bone spikes touched the spot where the girl had hidden the previous night, they instantly lost their sharp, terrifying edges, transforming into a piece of white bone. Pathetically, they clung tightly to the branch, immobilizing it.

Bian Lingyu’s expression stiffened, realizing something. His face turned slightly odd.

“Return,” he commanded sternly.

The bone spikes ignored him, greedily absorbing the remnants of the girl’s presence.

“I said return,” Bian Lingyu said coldly, resolutely snapping off a piece of his own bone. Seeing his ruthlessness, the bone spikes finally withdrew, retreating back into his body.

Holding the broken bone, Bian Lingyu reminded himself as he had countless times over the past few years: What are you thinking? Even if she cast that spell for an entire night, it wasn’t meant to warm you. Immortal bodies feel the cold too; don’t entertain fantasies, don’t harbor hope. She has someone she loves with all her heart. Don’t let yourself end up even more miserable.

You were so elated that day—what did you gain in the end?

She is no different from Xue An. Whether it’s love or disdain, none of it is directed at you. She’s even more hateful than Xue An!

These disciples of the immortal sects are merely toys to be trifled with out of boredom.

Having come to this realization, he suppressed his emotions and picked up the five small peach wood swords he had carved.

Today, they might enter Qingshui Village. Matters of love and affection were the most distant and unnecessary things to him.

Shi Luoyi wasn’t that important to him. He still had tasks he needed to accomplish.