Chapter 29: Exile

Shi Luoyi had no energy to dwell on Bian Qingxuan’s odd behavior and instead described Bian Lingyu’s injuries to Elder Hanshu.

Hanshu, with her perpetually aloof expression, stated bluntly: “If it’s truly the Cangwu Beast, then there’s no point in treating him—either way, he’ll die.”

“…”

“But if it’s another demonic beast that bit him, take some Haoyuan Pills from the Alchemy Pavilion for him to consume. With time, he’ll recover.”

At this point, Shi Luoyi could only trust Bian Lingyu’s words—that the wound wasn’t caused by the Cangwu Beast—and obtained a written order from Hanshu to retrieve the medicine.

Mingyou Mountain strictly controlled its medicinal resources, meticulously recording every pill taken by disciples. Coincidentally, Bian Qingxuan, who had earlier ignored Shi Luoyi, was also in the Alchemy Pavilion.

She stood beside a cauldron, surrounded by several senior brothers incessantly fussing over her injuries.

“Junior Sister, your wounds are so severe—who could have done such a cruel thing? Tell us, and we’ll avenge you!”

“That’s right! The Alchemy Pavilion isn’t one to be trifled with. If we can’t fight them head-on, we’ll slip them some Muscle-Corrosive Pills or Bone-Crushing Pills!”

Just as Shi Luoyi stepped into the pavilion, she realized they were unknowingly referring to her as the “cruel culprit.”

Her steps faltered, and instinctively, she glanced at Bian Qingxuan with caution. Shi Luoyi felt a headache coming on—encountering this scene at such a moment was unfortunate. If Bian Qingxuan were to feign weakness and say something like, “It’s not Senior Sister’s fault; it’s all my own doing,” those fervent disciples would likely deny her the Haoyuan Pills and instead hand her a vial of Muscle-Corrosive Pills, just as they suggested.

The flickering firelight danced across Bian Qingxuan’s figure. She glanced at Shi Luoyi, her expression cold. Unlike before, she didn’t create trouble for Shi Luoyi but instead turned her gaze away first, focusing back on the cauldron.

With Bian Qingxuan remaining silent, Shi Luoyi’s retrieval of the medicine went surprisingly smoothly.

As Shi Luoyi passed by with the pills, Bian Qingxuan still didn’t raise her head. Her fellow disciples seemed to sense something amiss and stopped their incessant chatter, quietly going about their tasks. In front of Bian Qingxuan, they behaved as docile as lambs.

Shi Luoyi cast a glance at this incongruous scene and couldn’t help but suspect once again that Bian Qingxuan possessed some mysterious power. Whoever approached her seemed to lose their wits, becoming her obedient puppets.

Shi Luoyi herself was already in a precarious position and powerless to save these people. Taking the medicine, she returned to Bian Lingyu’s courtyard.

By the time she came and went, night had fallen. Ding Bai had locked the gate. She knocked, signaling her intention to deliver the medicine to Bian Lingyu. Normally straightforward, Ding Bai hesitated this time: “Senior Sister, please come another day. Master has retired for the night and won’t see visitors.”

Shi Luoyi had no choice but to hand over the pills to Ding Bai, carefully instructing him to ensure Bian Lingyu took them. Ding Bai nodded vigorously, accepting the medicine.

Shi Luoyi said: “I’ll come to check on him later.”

Ding Bai opened his mouth, recalling the situation inside the room and the presence of the Cangwu Beast. His face paled, and he desperately wanted to tell her to run and never return. But he dared not reveal the truth nor make decisions for Bian Lingyu, fearing the deadly bone spurs might strike him down. Instead, he forced a bitter smile and nodded: “Senior Sister, it’s fine if you come a few days later. I’ll take good care of Master.”

Once Shi Luoyi left, Ding Bai tiptoed back into the courtyard.

All the pear trees in the yard, under the disturbance of spiritual energy, had withered completely. Even the rats that used to steal rice from the kitchen had turned into black ash.

Trembling, Ding Bai approached the door of Bian Lingyu’s bedroom: “Master, Senior Sister Luoyi has left.”

Bian Lingyu responded coldly.

“You leave too. Staying here means death.”

Ding Bai glanced at him. Half of Bian Lingyu’s face was now covered with silvery-white scales. His hand, which rested outside the blanket, no longer bore its original slender form—it was now a sharp, silver claw, terrifying in its sharpness. It lightly grazed the blanket, tearing it apart.

And from his body emerged bone spurs that pierced through the heart of the Cangwu Beast, pinning it firmly to the ground.

The once-arrogant Cangwu Beast of Mingyou Mountain lay helplessly on the ground, panting and trembling.

Though the sight was horrifying, Ding Bai couldn’t help but find it strangely grotesque yet magnificent, almost sacred like a ritual. The scales on Bian Lingyu’s body shimmered with a beautiful, icy luster, more captivating than the finest jade in the world, evoking an inexplicable urge to kneel in reverence.

If he were still eight years old, Ding Bai might have believed that Bian Lingyu’s transformation was due to poison.

But three years had passed since then, and Ding Bai was no longer so easily deceived. He knew this state wasn’t normal—it couldn’t simply be explained by poisoning.

Ding Bai wasn’t brave. Though he had developed some affection for Bian Lingyu over three years, it paled in comparison to his own life. He stuttered: “Then… then I’ll light the charcoal brazier before leaving.”

Bian Lingyu closed his eyes, ignoring him.

Ding Bai cautiously approached, skillfully lighting the charcoal in the room, extinguishing the candle flame, and finally placing the medicine on the table.

The boy slipped out, hesitating for a long while before bowing deeply to Bian Lingyu outside the door. The sound of the kowtow echoed loudly in the night. After one last glance at Bian Lingyu, Ding Bai fled the courtyard.

Today was the first day of the month, originally the day when Bian Qingxuan delivered medicine. But she hadn’t come. Senior Sister had always said that Master was deluded. After their falling-out last night, Bian Qingxuan would no longer concern herself with him.

Ding Bai had long suspected that in the sect, only those recognized by Senior Sister could live well. Now that she wanted Master to fall into ruin, staying behind might mean death—not a joke.

The young boy walked into the night, casting one last look at the courtyard. A faint sadness welled up in his heart—he wondered how Master would manage in the future.

Master, take care. I won’t tell anyone.

He didn’t glance back at Bian Lingyu as he left. Bian Lingyu only gazed at the horizon with his ashen-gray pupils.

The sky was cold, and tonight, there was no moon.

Bian Lingyu held no affection for Ding Bai. When his mother had left with his younger brother years ago, he hadn’t been particularly heartbroken.

His mother had said that their lineage consisted of cold-hearted monsters, indifferent to everything except their possessiveness and confinement of their mates. She had even cursed him, saying he would never attain love in his adulthood.

The lingering effects of the Soul-Cleansing Pill couldn’t withstand the poison of the Cangwu Beast, causing Bian Lingyu’s true form to emerge. Eventually, he would slowly revert to his previous frail mortal self.

As for Shi Luoyi, he closed his eyes. Bian Qingxuan often accused him of chasing after mirages, but in truth, Bian Lingyu had never harbored any expectations.

He was clear-headed. His gradually deteriorating body could grow old with dignity or die—but he would never lose his mind like his father, forgetting his duties and descending into madness.

Before his demise, he must first kill those fallen beasts. That was his duty. All he wished for Shi Luoyi was that she could go far, and he could only watch her walk away.

His silver pupils were icy. The Unchanging Toad was already dead, and the only soul that escaped his grasp was that of Zhu Yan.

Shi Luoyi had assumed she would soon visit Bian Lingyu, but the next day brought tragic news: Lady Hua Zhen had passed away.

Lady Hua Zhen, Wei Changyuan’s mother, had suffered from severe poisoning in her youth while saving her husband. Her health had never fully recovered, and though her husband had sought countless elixirs to prolong her life, she finally succumbed to her illness the previous night.

Upon hearing the news, Shi Luoyi and Xianghui hurried to the Wei household to pay their respects.

Before leaving, she asked someone to inform Ding Bai that she would visit Bian Lingyu afterward. With Bian Qingxuan currently caring for him, she assumed he wouldn’t leave.

When they arrived, the Wei household was draped in white mourning banners. Dressed in white, Wei Changyuan silently knelt in the main hall, keeping vigil for his mother.

In Shi Luoyi’s memory, Wei’s father had always been calm and composed. But now, his face bore an unmistakable weariness, as if he had aged ten years overnight.

Wei Changyuan knelt upright, his sword Qinghong laid aside. He didn’t look at anyone or speak a word.

Shi Luoyi offered incense and, turning back, saw him. She was reminded of her own mother’s passing and how she had struggled for a long time to recover from the grief.

Back then, it was Wei Changyuan who had helped her through the hardships of childhood.

Now that they had both grown up and their identities had shifted, she could no longer comfort him as he had once comforted her.

Shi Luoyi knew that Wei’s father probably didn’t even want her to linger here any longer—after all, she was no longer a suitable match for their family.

Thus, after paying her respects, Shi Luoyi quietly left.

As she exited, she spotted Xue Rao.

Xue Rao sneered at her, a smug expression on her face, and eagerly rushed over to kneel beside Wei Changyuan, whispering softly to him. But Wei Changyuan didn’t spare her a glance.

Xue Rao was Xue An’s younger sister. Her family held immense influence, and for centuries, their power had been on the rise. Most importantly, she had harbored feelings for Wei Changyuan since childhood. Long ago, she had even nearly come to blows with Shi Luoyi out of jealousy.

Seeing her here, Shi Luoyi immediately understood: Xue Rao was the next marriage arrangement Wei’s father had made for his son. Could this be the reason why, in her past life, Wei Changyuan had never ended up with Bian Qingxuan?

It seemed so logical, yet Shi Luoyi couldn’t shake the feeling that something about it felt off.

In any case, Wei Changyuan ultimately hadn’t married Xue Rao.

As his former fiancée, Shi Luoyi only glanced at them from afar. Xue Rao, naive and romantic, clearly didn’t understand Wei Changyuan’s sorrow, treating this as an opportunity to nurture their relationship. As for Bian Qingxuan—the considerate and understanding woman Wei Changyuan admired—there was no way his father would allow her into the Wei household.

Shi Luoyi sighed inwardly.

She didn’t offer further consolation but instead traveled to the Eastern Sea in the mortal realm. She remembered Wei Changyuan once mentioning that there was a sea beast called the Everbright Creature, whose pearl could ensure eternal light.

When she finally emerged from the sea, she was utterly exhausted, unable to move even a finger. Her face was pale as a ghost.

Time flowed differently beneath the ocean, where there was no distinction between day and night. Shi Luoyi thought only a single day had passed, but upon hearing Xianghui’s explanation, she realized five days had gone by!

Xianghui had waited anxiously on the shore, almost driven to tears when Shi Luoyi hadn’t returned. Rushing to her side, she supported her: “Miss, are you alright? What happened to leave you in such a state?”

Shi Luoyi replied weakly: “I’m fine.”

She lowered her head, looking at the pearl in her hand.

It was a smooth, round pearl, radiating a soft, luminous glow under the sunlight.

Xianghui blinked in surprise: “What is this?”

Shi Luoyi explained: “This is the Everbright Pearl, taken from the body of the Everbright Creature. Long ago, when my mother passed away, Senior Brother Changyuan told me a story. He said his mother’s health was also poor, and one day, he might lose her just as I had. He confessed that he feared that day would come, and when it did, he wanted to find an Everbright Pearl for her. Lady Hua Zhen was afraid of the dark—holding the Everbright Pearl in her hand would banish all darkness from the world.”

“When I was little,” Shi Luoyi continued, “I was immature and prone to crying. Lady Hua Zhen cared for me during those difficult times. Now that she has ascended, there’s little more I can do for her. All I can hope is that she will be free from the darkness and forever bathed in light.”

Hearing this, Xianghui’s eyes brimmed with tears.

She understood—by finding the Everbright Pearl, Shi Luoyi was severing the last remaining thread of connection between herself and Wei Changyuan. From now on, they would truly have no chance of reconciliation.

Shi Luoyi dried her soaked skirt and handed the Everbright Pearl to Xianghui: “Take this to Lord Wei and Senior Brother Changyuan on my behalf. My current position makes it inappropriate to console them directly—it’s better to avoid unnecessary complications. I hope it reaches them in time for Lady Hua Zhen’s burial. May her journey to the afterlife be peaceful.”

She had spent five days submerged in the ocean, battling the elusive Everbright Creature, leaving her completely drained.

Xianghui carefully tucked the pearl away: “And what about you, Miss? Aren’t you returning to the Wei household?”

Shi Luoyi shook her head: “I need to go back first and check on Bian Lingyu.”

Time had slipped away unnoticed beneath the waves, and she hadn’t expected her absence to stretch for several days.

Still, Bian Lingyu had Bian Qingxuan to rely on. Before she had known him, he had managed well enough. In the past, Bian Qingxuan’s care for her brother had earned widespread admiration within Mingyou Mountain. If his condition wasn’t caused by the Cangwu Beast’s poison, as he claimed, there was no need for concern.

Shi Luoyi rose to her feet and began making her way back to Mingyou Mountain.

Xianghui, holding the Everbright Pearl, turned back toward the Wei household.

Never could Shi Luoyi have imagined that when she returned, Bian Lingyu’s courtyard would be empty. The once-lush garden was now barren, its plants and trees all withered, leaving behind only a hollow, desolate house.

Ding Bai was nowhere to be found, and Bian Qingxuan’s protective barrier was gone.

The sight was jarring, evoking a profound sense of loss and change. If not for Shi Luoyi’s certainty that only a few short days had passed, she might have thought decades had gone by.

A bad feeling settled in her heart. Stopping an outer disciple, she asked: “Excuse me, do you know where Bian Lingyu, who used to live in the eastern courtyard, has gone?”

The disciple didn’t recognize her but quickly blushed and answered earnestly: “You mean… the Bian Senior Brother who came up the mountain three years ago? He was an outer disciple—it was already unsuitable for him to live in such a fine courtyard as the eastern one. The sect only allowed it because of Senior Sister Qingxuan’s favor. Recently, people have been saying that he isn’t actually Senior Sister Qingxuan’s biological brother, but rather the illegitimate child of the bandits who killed their parents. Such a person—how could he claim the identity of Senior Sister’s brother?”

Shi Luoyi listened, finding the entire narrative absurd.

If there were truly issues with Bian Lingyu’s origins, wouldn’t someone as shrewd as Bian Qingxuan have acted on it long ago? What kind of conflict had arisen between the siblings that led Bian Qingxuan to push him this far?

Outer disciples assigned to work in Hengwu Sect performed menial tasks. Shi Luoyi asked: “Do you know where Bian Lingyu was sent?”

“He should have been assigned to sweep floors or chop wood with the other disciples, but instead, he volunteered to guard the Withered Mountain—the one opposite Buye Mountain,” the disciple replied, shaking his head. “It’s quiet there, but every few years, a forest guardian gets carried off by demonic beasts. It’s bitterly cold, too. Back when the Daoist Master of Buye Mountain was still alive, lower-level demonic beasts didn’t dare cause trouble. Now, though, who knows when one might be snatched away.”

His tone carried a sense of lament. Following his gaze, Shi Luoyi saw that it was indeed a small, barren mountain nestled between Mingyou Mountain and Buye Mountain. Such desolate mountains were often used to exile outer disciples who had committed offenses, forcing them into roles as forest guardians. They were neglected, left to wither away or meet grim fates.

Her heart clenched at the thought of the aloof, godlike youth wasting away and dying in such a place.

In her past life, this had never happened around this time. She had quickly been forced to flee the sect after killing a fellow disciple. Was it her rebirth that had changed things, leading to Bian Lingyu’s tragic fate?

With a growing sense of indignation, Shi Luoyi made her way toward the barren mountain the disciple had mentioned.

Regardless of whether his origins were true or false, Bian Lingyu hadn’t committed any wrongdoing. Why had they allowed him to be exiled to such a forsaken place? Why force him into the most dangerous task of all?