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This was a long story.
For sixty years, Shi Luoyi had deliberately erased Bian Lingyu’s name from her memory and forgotten his face.
She only vaguely remembered that he was extraordinarily handsome—refined, aloof, and icy, like the name he bore, as radiant as the moon in the vast sky.
When Shi Luoyi was young, she was naive, impulsive, and proud. Though she despised Bian Qingxuan with every fiber of her being, she had never thought to involve her brother, Bian Lingyu.
At that time, she was constantly overshadowed by Bian Qingxuan. She gritted her teeth and took on missions alone, often returning covered in wounds, all while enduring whispers and ridicule behind her back.
One day, she was bullied by cultivators from another sect. Seeing her alone, they mistook her for a low-ranking disciple from an insignificant sect. Lusting after her beauty, they harbored ill intentions. Shi Luoyi, still inexperienced, narrowly escaped the secret realm, poisoned by a love-inducing toxin. When she stumbled back to the sect, her arm slashed open by a deep wound, not a single person asked about her condition.
Her former friendly peers whispered among themselves.
“I always said her luck was bad—you’d better stay away from her.”
“Every time we go out with Junior Sister, don’t we always come back with piles of treasures? Sometimes we don’t even need to lift a finger to complete our sect tasks.”
“Junior Sister is such a kind person, yet she’s always being difficult. The other day, I saw her invite Shi Luoyi to join us, but she coldly refused, even accusing Junior Sister of being insincere.”
“Sigh, Junior Sister is truly kind. Even though Shi Luoyi treats her so poorly, she never holds a grudge.”
“Who’s going to argue with that? It’s a good thing she didn’t come along this time, or she would’ve caused us a ton of trouble.”
No matter how strong Shi Luoyi tried to be, she was still just a young cultivator who had barely reached adulthood. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, her jaw clenched tight, and her body trembled with a mix of委屈 (grievance) and anger.
She straightened her back, refusing to show weakness, pretending she didn’t care. All she wanted was to find Wei Changyuan. If others didn’t care about her, it didn’t matter—Senior Brother Changyuan would surely feel sorry for her!
But when she arrived at the apricot grove, she saw Wei Changyuan personally teaching Bian Qingxuan how to wield a sword.
The apricot blossoms fluttered in the air, the sunlight was radiant, and the scene of the white-robed maiden and the black-clad man was breathtakingly beautiful.
In Wei Changyuan’s eyes, Shi Luoyi saw something achingly familiar.
It was the same focus and affection that had once belonged solely to her.
Her gaze dropped lower, landing on the spiritual jade hanging from Bian Qingxuan’s waist. Her heart sank. The Wei family was a prominent clan in the cultivation world, where offspring were precious. Whenever a child was born into the family, they would forge a spiritual jade for them.
Crafted by the finest artisans in the world, the jade shimmered like flowing water, with faint images of swimming fish visible within. This was a token given by the Wei family’s young masters to their beloved partners upon reaching adulthood.
And now, this token hung from Bian Qingxuan’s waist.
A surge of blood rushed to her throat. In a daze, Shi Luoyi recalled a distant memory: flickering candlelight, Wei Changyuan kneeling in punishment at the ancestral hall after taking a beating meant for her. She had cried uncontrollably, overwhelmed with guilt. With a sigh, Wei Changyuan handed her the jade that symbolized his lineage, saying he would gift it to her when she grew older.
Back then, she hadn’t understood its significance; now, it was too late.
Her arm throbbed with pain, and blood seeped from her lips.
Shi Luoyi couldn’t remember how she had staggered away in a daze.
That day, under the falling apricot blossoms, she gave birth to a demonic heart amidst endless oppression and agony.
A voice lured and manipulated her: Wei Changyuan broke your heart—why shouldn’t you break his? Why should women always bear the brunt of love’s cruelty? Let him taste the pain you feel today.
Yes, why should they?
Her eyes turned crimson as she kicked open the outer disciples’ courtyard, shattering the protective barrier Bian Qingxuan had set up, and seized the mortal youth inside.
She recognized him as Bian Lingyu, Bian Qingxuan’s older brother, a mere mortal without any aptitude for cultivation. He was allowed to stay in the sect only because Bian Qingxuan had pleaded on his behalf.
The more she loathed Bian Qingxuan, the more she detested everything associated with her—including him. But Shi Luoyi had always been proud. She wouldn’t stoop so low as to use him to torment Bian Qingxuan, nor would she spare him a second glance.
But why shouldn’t humans be allowed to be despicable?
Bian Qingxuan, with her innocent and pitiful face, effortlessly plunged Shi Luoyi’s life into ruin time and again.
If there was a way to make Bian Qingxuan suffer unbearable pain, why shouldn’t she take it? They already called her cruel and vile—what harm could embracing that reputation do?
Under the influence of her inner demon, she thought with resentment and anticipation: Wei Changyuan, Bian Qingxuan, will you one day regret what happens today?
“…”
The youth’s gaze swept over her disheveled hair and dirt-streaked face before finally settling on the wound on her arm. He frowned slightly and said, “Shi Luoyi, get out.”
At his words, the chaos in her mind intensified, her eyes turning an even deeper shade of red. How dare a mere mortal defy her?
As for what happened next, Shi Luoyi pressed her hand to her forehead, her thoughts a jumble.
She couldn’t bear to recall it, couldn’t face it.
Whether they regretted it or not, Shi Luoyi didn’t know. All she knew was that she herself deeply regretted it.
Because she could never forget the look in the youth’s eyes—the initial resistance, his repeated attempts to stop her, and finally, the resigned silence when Bian Qingxuan burst in. Bian Lingyu seemed to understand something, closed his eyes briefly, and told them both to leave.
Still consumed by her inner demon, Shi Luoyi couldn’t perceive his pain. Instead, she smiled coldly, relishing the sight of their mutual despair and collapse.
The next day, after her demonic heart was subdued and her mind cleared, she began to feel fear and regret.
Even Bian Qingxuan falling ill for two months from anger didn’t bring Shi Luoyi satisfaction.
Shi Luoyi had lost her mother at a young age and was raised by her father with great care. After her father fell into slumber, her circumstances deteriorated drastically. Moreover, once an inner demon manifested, no one had ever successfully eradicated it—it only grew worse with each episode unless she abandoned her cultivation and foundation, becoming a useless cripple destined for an early death.
Otherwise, she was fated to walk a path of slaughter and evil.
As a young girl, she was terrified. She didn’t want to lose her cultivation, nor did she want to tarnish her father’s legacy. With no one to help her, she had to figure out how to suppress her inner demon on her own.
Her inner demon had been born from the oppression of Wei Changyuan and Bian Qingxuan, so she clung desperately to the hope that Wei Changyuan might return to her and that she might surpass Bian Qingxuan. If she could avoid another episode, perhaps she could rid herself of the demon entirely.
But she was overwhelmed, drowning in pain. Under the influence of her inner demon, she grew increasingly wicked and cold-hearted. How could she possibly spare a thought for Bian Lingyu?
In the decades of fleeing that followed, she rarely thought of him.
When she did, she would close her crimson eyes and cover her ears, forcing herself to remain indifferent.
She repeated to herself over and over: those close to vermilion turn red, those close to ink turn black. How could Bian Qingxuan’s brother possibly be a good person?
Later, as she grew calmer and fully embraced the path of evil, she became even more indifferent. He was just a mortal—perhaps he was already old and frail. The last she heard, some cultivators mentioned that he was doing well on Mingyou Mountain. That was enough.
She thought again: He must have forgotten me by now, or perhaps he feels relieved. After all, I’m like a drowning dog now, and he should be happier than anyone else. Let him rejoice if he wants to—I’ll allow it.
These consoling thoughts had some effect. Later, as a demonic cultivator, she successfully avoided thinking about Bian Lingyu altogether.
Because of her deliberate forgetting, even the blades of grass and trees on Buye Mountain came to mind more often than Bian Lingyu did.
But now, having returned sixty years into the past, many things hadn’t yet happened—but some events had already taken place.
After calculating in her mind, she realized that her encounter with Bian Lingyu had occurred just three months ago.
Shi Luoyi felt as though she might vomit blood from frustration.
Damn you, heavens! If you truly are blind, then why bring me back to life?
And if you’ve opened your eyes and given me a chance to start over, why not do it sooner? Even three months earlier would have been better.
What was she supposed to do now? The inner demon had already awakened—there was no turning back. Was she destined to fall into darkness once again? She had already wronged Bian Lingyu, and there was no undoing that either.
Now that Bian Lingyu had come knocking, was she supposed to kneel and kowtow to the person outside?!
She didn’t know what to do, but Huixiang was practiced in such matters. Seeing Shi Luoyi lost in thought and silent, Huixiang assumed she was overwhelmed with anger and, feeling pity for her mistress, quickly said, “Miss, don’t get angry. Let Huixiang send him away.”
Resigned, Shi Luoyi closed her eyes briefly and said, “Wait. Help me up and open the door for him.”
Huixiang looked at her with concern and gently advised, “Miss, though in the mortal world one person’s crime punishes the entire family, Bian Lingyu isn’t an immortal. Don’t let everything Bian Qingxuan has done weigh on him. The sect has rules—cultivators aren’t allowed to kill mortals at will.”
“…” Shi Luoyi found it hard to put her feelings into words. Sighing, she reflected that Huixiang understood her younger self well.
Once again, she recognized how poorly she had handled relationships and sighed deeply. “I promise I won’t do anything to him.”
Thinking of something, her body shuddered with discomfort. “Hmm… Huixiang, bring that folding screen over here and set it up. Then leave. I have something to discuss with him.”
The screen would block my view. Let me gather myself.
Though Huixiang wasn’t entirely convinced, she still followed her orders.
The screen created two separate worlds, and the door was slowly opened. Huixiang walked away with frequent backward glances, clearly uneasy. As a kind-hearted and loyal spirit, Huixiang feared that her injured mistress might be angered into illness by the young man—or worse, that she might harm him and cause trouble.
Of course, Huixiang had no idea what her mistress had done to Bian Lingyu three months ago—a deed so vile that only the parties involved and Bian Qingxuan knew about it.
Shi Luoyi sat upright, her emotions tangled and complex.
Bian Lingyu was Bian Qingxuan’s older brother. No matter what, she couldn’t possibly feel any affection for him—in fact, she had always despised him.
Yet the guilt from the past made it impossible for her to speak harshly to him.
As the sound of the wheelchair wheels approached, the silhouette of the youth gradually became clearer behind the screen, like a painting coming into focus.
Though Bian Lingyu’s features were obscured by the screen, they overlapped with her hazy memories.
Shi Luoyi vaguely remembered that in her previous life, without even seeing him, she had angrily ordered Huixiang to drive Bian Lingyu away while still fuming over Wei Changyuan’s betrayal.
This time, however, Shi Luoyi had made a different choice. She covertly observed him, trying to guess why Bian Lingyu had come.
She had never been kind to him, and he had reciprocated the same coldness. Especially after what had happened three months ago.
Shi Luoyi had been burned too many times by Bian Qingxuan, and by extension, she kept her distance from Bian Lingyu as well. If not for her loss of control due to the inner demon, she would never have exchanged a single kind word with him when clear-headed. Everyone on Mingyou Mountain knew how much Bian Qingxuan adored her brother—their sibling bond was deep, and the mere thought of it filled her with irritation.
Even if the whole world thought she had been wrong her entire life, she firmly believed her instincts hadn’t failed her. Her downfall was inextricably linked to Bian Qingxuan.
There was a subtle malice in the way Bian Qingxuan treated her.
She glanced toward the screen, unsure of Bian Lingyu’s intentions. Was he here under Bian Qingxuan’s orders to threaten her? Had he sensed her inner demon?
On the other side, Bian Lingyu pushed his wheelchair inside and immediately noticed the folding screen deliberately placed by the young woman.
The night before, Shi Luoyi hadn’t returned home, and the mountain had been alight with torches as disciples searched for her throughout the night.
One of the outer disciples sharing the courtyard with Bian Lingyu complained, “Why bother looking for her? She’s always causing trouble. It’s freezing out there, and the snow makes it unbearable. Isn’t this just torturing everyone?”
Another disciple chimed in, “Exactly. Daojun Shihuan won’t wake up, and Shi Luoyi’s just a spoiled young lady. Who cares about her anymore?”
A ten-year-old outer disciple assigned by Bian Qingxuan to care for Bian Lingyu remembered her instructions and hurriedly shooed the gossiping disciples away. “Go on, go talk somewhere else!”
The young disciple sneaked a glance at Bian Lingyu, feeling uneasy at his expressionless face. When Bian Lingyu didn’t ask any questions, the disciple breathed a sigh of relief.
The outer courtyard was as cold as the mortal world. After a night of snowfall, the young disciple came in to stoke the fire and saw Bian Lingyu sitting quietly by the bedside, gazing at the dark sky outside, lost in thought.
As dawn approached, Bian Lingyu picked up two items and prepared to leave.
The young disciple grew alert and nervously asked, “Master, where are you going?”
Bian Lingyu glanced at him, and the disciple fell silent. Stammering, he weakly justified himself, “Big Sister Bian said you’re not well and it’s too cold outside. She told us to make sure you don’t go out.”
But amidst the heavy snow, the figure in the wheelchair gradually moved farther away.
The young disciple chased after him, panicking. “Then… then I’ll accompany you!”
“No need. Let go.”
For some reason, the young disciple was afraid of him. Reluctantly releasing the wheelchair, he watched as Bian Lingyu laboriously disappeared into the snow.
The young disciple stamped his feet, realizing from the direction he was headed that something was amiss. Hurriedly, he ran off to inform Big Sister Bian!
When Bian Lingyu arrived at Shi Luoyi’s courtyard, the snow had soaked his upper body completely. He was so cold that he was nearly numb.
On the way, he had heard that Shi Luoyi had been found by Senior Brother Wei.
Bian Lingyu clenched the items in his hand, his long lashes as black as crow feathers drooping slightly. Still, he knocked on the door.
The door remained closed for a long while, but the sound of the folding screen being moved could be heard from inside.
Huixiang opened the door, gave him a sympathetic and worried look, and silently left.
The folding screen separated the two worlds.
He coldly observed the faint outline of the slender figure seated on the other side, a faint hatred stirring in his heart.
Eight parts directed at himself, two parts at Shi Luoyi.
Neither of them spoke at first.
In the eerie silence, the young woman finally couldn’t bear the atmosphere and broke the silence. “What do you want from me?”
Her voice was slightly hoarse. Normally as melodious as pearls falling onto a jade plate, today her tone was subdued. Yet it was easy to detect the wariness and probing in her words.
Bian Lingyu closed his eyes briefly and threw two objects onto the ground. His voice was icy. “Is this all the skill you have in humiliating others?”
With that, a ruyi lock and a hundred-year-old blood lingzhi herb landed on the floor in front of the screen.
“If you can’t compete with Bian Qingxuan, that’s your own incompetence. Whatever you plan to do, it has nothing to do with me. But if you try to use such methods on me again, one of us will die first.”
His tone was calm but carried a faint trace of cold cruelty.
It was as if he had never held any expectations of Shi Luoyi.
The crisp sound of the falling lock, paired with the youth’s ruthless words, made Shi Luoyi’s eyes widen slightly.
In all her years, she had rarely heard someone directly tell her that if she dared provoke him again, one of them would die first.
She recalled that day when, faced with Bian Qingxuan, he had also told them both to leave—and added that they should leave together.
“Speak!”
Accustomed to dealing with veiled hostility, Shi Luoyi struggled to respond to such direct coldness. Dryly, she replied, “Oh… uh.”
Shi Luoyi lowered her gaze to the ruyi lock and the nearly crushed blood lingzhi on the ground. A prickling sensation crept up her scalp.
At this moment, only one thought occupied her mind: How had she dared, three months ago, to act so boldly against someone with such a fierce temper as Bian Lingyu?
How had she dared?! And how had she succeeded?
Hadn’t Bian Lingyu resisted to the death? Had he shown her mercy by not killing her?