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The heavy snow mingled with the fading sunlight, casting a pale glow over the landscape.
Bian Lingyu left the courtyard, and Shi Luoyi stood up, walking around the folding screen to pick up the two items he had thrown down.
If she were still the Shi Luoyi of her past life—proud and naive—she wouldn’t have understood Bian Lingyu’s anger, and might even have been irritated by his ingratitude. But after years of wandering, she had learned much about human nature and worldly affairs.
She remembered one time when she was fleeing from the sect’s pursuit and passed through a bustling mortal alleyway. She stayed there for several months.
In a brothel called Yi Hong Pavilion, there was a woman named Jin’er.
Jin’er had originally been a performer who played the pipa beautifully, selling her art but not her body. Many wealthy patrons threw vast sums of money at her feet, yet none could win her favor. Later, a scholar on his way to the capital to take the imperial exams fell deeply in love with her. He flew kites, wrote love poems, and did everything romantic imaginable to win her heart.
The scholar was handsome, elegant, and talented. Jin’er quickly succumbed to his tender affections, giving him both her body and soul.
They made vows under the heavens and by the mountains. In the height of their passion, the scholar promised to take Jin’er away with him.
A few months later, the exam results were announced, and the scholar achieved high honors. But he never returned to the Yi Hong Pavilion. Instead, he sent a box filled with silver ingots.
That night, Jin’er leapt from the pavilion’s upper floor into the vast river below.
At the time, Shi Luoyi hadn’t understood why. But after witnessing the vicissitudes of the mortal world and the fickleness of people’s hearts, she finally grasped the meaning behind that box of silver.
Jin’er had started performing at the age of eight, steadfastly holding onto her principles for ten long years. She thought she had finally found her ideal lover, but in the end, in the scholar’s eyes, she was nothing more than a prostitute.
A lowly person who could only be dismissed with money. Her despair stemmed not just from the scholar’s betrayal but from the realization that in the eyes of society, she would forever remain a prostitute.
Shi Luoyi thought of Bian Lingyu and began to vaguely understand why he was angry.
For some people, honor and dignity were far more important than life itself. To insult their integrity was akin to taking their life.
Though the circumstances were vastly different, the sense of humiliation felt by those involved was much the same.
Even if the truth wasn’t as it seemed.
Shi Luoyi picked up the ruyi lock from the ground and wiped off the dust.
The ruyi lock that Bian Lingyu had thrown away had been personally commissioned by Shi Luoyi’s mother, Princess Wanxun of Nanyue. When she learned that her young daughter was betrothed to the eldest son of the Wei family, the princess—aware that she was only mortal and gravely ill—feared she wouldn’t live to see her daughter marry and bear children.
She sought out the finest blacksmiths in the mortal realm and crafted the ruyi lock.
The princess said to the Daojun, “One day, when Young Master Wei presents his spiritual jade to Luo’er, this lock will serve as our gift in return. The Grand Priest will consecrate it for ten years with the blessings of Nanyue, invoking the goodwill of all under heaven. It will protect the child of the Wei family, granting him peace and prosperity. May my child’s marriage be blessed, unbroken even in life and death.”
After the princess’s death, Shi Luoyi had always worn the ruyi lock.
Later, when she moved out of Buye Mountain, her stubborn pride led her to leave without taking anything from her father’s treasure vault. The only thing she carried was the Xuan Bird Ruyi Lock.
To the young Shi Luoyi, that lock represented everything—it was her most cherished possession, the token she intended to give to her future partner, and the item she planned to personally hand to Wei Changyuan.
But in the apricot grove that day, Wei Changyuan had forever lost the spiritual jade of the Wei family. His jade had already been given to his beloved.
At that moment, in Shi Luoyi’s heart, their engagement had already been annulled.
The ruyi lock, blessed by the efforts of an entire kingdom, no longer mattered. Half out of her inner demon’s influence and half out of poverty, she had casually given it to Bian Lingyu.
Since no one wanted it anymore, she thought, at least the lock could bring him peace and prosperity in this life. Back then, she had been so poor that it was all she had left.
As for the blood lingzhi, Shi Luoyi also remembered its origin.
It was the reward she had earned from her first mission after moving out of Buye Mountain. As a carefree girl unaware of hardship, she had shed much blood and tears in secret to obtain it. She hadn’t even kept it to treat her own wounds, instead giving it to Bian Lingyu.
Though few would believe it, for the Shi Luoyi of that time, these two items represented her entire worldly possessions. She had been desperately poor.
Oh, no—Shi Luoyi suddenly remembered the courtyard, where there was still an immature century-old peony.
When she was a child, her mother had planted that peony with her. It was later transplanted to the immortal mountain, and Shi Luoyi had painstakingly cared for it for many years. Unfortunately, just yesterday, Bian Qingxuan had innocently plucked it, saying, “This flower is so beautiful.”
Enraged, Shi Luoyi had lashed out at her.
Now, setting aside the past for the moment, Shi Luoyi didn’t want Bian Lingyu to think she was humiliating him.
After much deliberation, she picked up the blood lingzhi, tucked the lock into her chest, and decided to chase after him to say a few words. Whether he believed her or not was up to him.
The snow fell heavily, and Shi Luoyi, injured, walked slowly. Seeing the solitary figure of the youth struggling ahead, she finally sighed in relief.
Thankfully, Bian Lingyu hadn’t gone far. Just as she was about to call out to him, she saw another young girl in orange robes running toward him.
Shi Luoyi frowned and stopped in her tracks.
Bian Qingxuan had been treating a disciple’s injuries when she received the young disciple’s message.
Her face flushed red as she softly said, “Senior Brother’s wound needs proper rest for a few days after we return. The beast’s claws are poisonous, so it’s best to take some Clear Heart Pills to prevent demonic energy from entering your body.”
The male disciple’s ears turned slightly red as he nodded repeatedly.
Cultivators pursued different paths of cultivation, but those who were often most well-liked were the alchemists.
Bian Qingxuan was an alchemist.
Three years ago, when she had come to the mountain to seek discipleship, the elder of the Celestial Fate Pavilion had praised her extraordinary destiny. Even the sect leader, seated high above, had glanced down at her with interest. Yet she had chosen to become an alchemist, dedicating herself to healing her fellow disciples.
Disciples returning from missions often sustained injuries, and almost everyone, big or small, had benefited from her kindness.
Moreover, unlike her master, Elder Hanshu, who was aloof and distant, the disciples loved to seek out Bian Qingxuan for treatment when they were injured.
Bian Qingxuan was often lively, witty, and quick with her words. Over time, her reputation as the beloved junior sister grew even stronger.
The disciple who had come to deliver the message was named Ding Bai. After whispering something into Bian Qingxuan’s ear, Ding Bai nodded.
As Bian Qingxuan hurried toward Mingyou Mountain, she spotted Shi Luoyi emerging from the courtyard gate in the distance.
Shi Luoyi wore a pale green silk dress, with a deep yellow shawl draped over her arm. Against the wind and snow, the single apricot blossom hairpin in her hair jingled softly.
In the snow, she was the only vibrant splash of color. Though gravely injured and pale, she moved slowly but deliberately, clearly intending to chase after the solitary figure ahead.
Bian Qingxuan quickened her pace and crouched down to steady the handles of Bian Lingyu’s wheelchair. Out of the corner of her eye, she confirmed that Shi Luoyi had stopped in her tracks.
Then, as if reconsidering something, Shi Luoyi turned back and slammed the courtyard door shut with a “bang.”
As expected, her temper was still as volatile as ever.
Perhaps Bian Qingxuan’s gaze had been too peculiar, because Bian Lingyu also turned his head to look in the same direction. All he saw was a tightly shut vermilion gate, standing out like a vivid red plum blossom against the snowy landscape.
He then noticed the faint footprints left by the young woman near the gate and subtly tightened his lips.
Bian Qingxuan’s heart clenched.
Her gaze fell on the youth’s slender, distinct fingers—now not only frostbitten but also covered in wounds. The outer disciples’ quarters were far from Mingyou Mountain. How long had he walked, how much suffering had he endured to get here?
“What are you doing at Mingyou Mountain, Brother?” she said, informing him, “Yesterday, I accidentally picked one of Senior Sister Luoyi’s flowers, and she’s still angry with me. What if she takes it out on you?”
The word “takes it out” had always been a sensitive topic for Bian Lingyu, akin to touching his reverse scale. But today, he acted as if he hadn’t heard, staring silently at the trail of footprints.
Seeing his demeanor, Bian Qingxuan initially felt uneasy and restless. They stood in the snow for quite some time, but Shi Luoyi didn’t open the door.
The incident from three months ago still made Bian Qingxuan seethe with anger whenever she thought about it. She had been so upset that she fell ill for two months. Even worse, Bian Lingyu had become increasingly distracted. Several times, when she called out to him, he didn’t respond.
After recovering, Bian Qingxuan had chanced upon Shi Luoyi carefully tending to a peony plant just a few days ago.
The young woman meticulously loosened the soil around the peony and removed pests. Her flowing robes trailed behind her, and her delicate features glowed with serene beauty.
That evening, under the fading light of dusk, Bian Qingxuan had personally plucked the pinkish-white flower.
“How beautiful this flower is,” she exclaimed joyfully.
She knew all too well what a proud and easily angered little peacock Shi Luoyi could be.
Thinking of this, her tense mood suddenly relaxed. The closed vermilion gate no longer seemed threatening.
How could it be otherwise? she thought. Just as Shi Luoyi detested her, she must also despise Bian Lingyu.
When Shi Luoyi had chased out earlier, the most she would have done was hurl some insults or curses. There was no way she would say anything Bian Lingyu wanted to hear.
Indeed, not only did Bian Qingxuan realize this, but Bian Lingyu gradually came to the same conclusion.
Lowering his eyes, he turned and began to leave.
Bian Qingxuan hurried after him, her hand reaching out to touch the wheelchair. Bian Lingyu coldly said, “Let go.”
Biting her lip, though reluctant, Bian Qingxuan had no choice but to release her grip. She dared not touch his belongings again and followed behind him step by step.
The youth’s figure was as upright as a pine tree, his eyes as cold as snow, exuding the lonely aura of a lone wolf.
Though his vitality was slowly waning, Bian Qingxuan followed him closely, almost entranced. Thinking of how Shi Luoyi and Bian Lingyu were drifting further apart, she curved her lips into a smile.
It didn’t matter. As long as Shi Luoyi continued to despise him—or if his circumstances worsened—she had plenty of time, didn’t she?
She had patience. She could wait until the day Bian Lingyu completely gave up hope.
Shi Luoyi found the whole situation deeply unpleasant.
At the mere sight of Bian Qingxuan, she felt an overwhelming surge of disgust and irritation. Fearing that she might actually lash out physically, she decided to shut herself in and reassess the situation calmly.
She lay on the bed for a while. Before leaving, Huixiang had stoked the fire, making the room warm and cozy. The places where she had been frostbitten began to throb slightly with pain.
She took out the ruyi lock again and examined it, feeling a sense of relief that Bian Lingyu, despite not knowing its significance, had returned it to her rather than discarding it carelessly.
The longer one lived in the world, the more one cherished old possessions.
A lock imbued with the blessings of her mother and the entire kingdom of Nanyue—it was something she shouldn’t have given away so lightly.
Even if Wei Changyuan didn’t want it, even if Bian Lingyu didn’t want it, she couldn’t simply discard it either.
Just as no one in the world should make her feel small or submissive, she first and foremost needed to love and cherish herself.
The returned ruyi lock was still the treasured possession in her memory—the finest gift Princess Wanxun had given her daughter. It constantly reminded Shi Luoyi that someone had once loved her deeply.
Cradling the lock against her chest, Shi Luoyi felt a spark of determination ignite within her.
This warmth gave her the strength to live life fully. She thought, even though her circumstances were difficult, the chance to start over was rare, and she was determined to make up for the regrets of her past life. She would live exactly as she wished.
In her previous life, she had stumbled upon an ancient text containing a technique to temporarily suppress inner demons. Reciting it several times, she quickly sat up and circulated the technique through her body.
The technique was highly effective. After completing one full cycle, she felt the irritation caused by seeing Bian Qingxuan dissipate significantly, and finally, she sighed in relief.
As for Bian Lingyu, she decided to observe the situation further. If he and Bian Qingxuan weren’t plotting together to drive her to ruin, she would find a way to apologize properly if necessary.
After sixty years as a demonic cultivator, this was the best she could do. She couldn’t expect herself to revert to the clear-cut morality and guilt of her youth.
The heavy snow continued to fall throughout the night, and by dawn, the sky had cleared.
By the hour of Mao, Huixiang quietly arrived at Shi Luoyi’s courtyard.
Aware that her presence might bring trouble to her mistress, she had come secretly.
Shi Luoyi had endured so much hardship over the past two years, her body covered in injuries. Aside from Huixiang, no one else cared for her.
Huixiang pitied her and wanted to check on her condition discreetly. Had her wounds healed somewhat? Was she still in pain?
Being a spirit transformed from a plant, it was easy for her to conceal her presence. Every blade of grass and tree in the courtyard served as perfect cover.
To her surprise, Shi Luoyi was already awake.
She was grooming herself, and through the mirror, Huixiang caught sight of a slightly worn but still strikingly beautiful face. The young woman’s skin bore fine scars, but they did nothing to diminish her beauty; instead, they added a touch of decadent allure.
From Shi Luoyi’s face, Huixiang faintly glimpsed the visage of Nanyue’s once-renowned beauty.
Huixiang became lost in thought. How glorious the princess had been in her prime! Not only had nobles from across the lands fallen for her, but even the great powers of the mortal and immortal realms had been captivated by her presence.
Yet the princess’s beloved daughter, after the Daojun’s slumber, had gradually withered under oppression.
Though Shi Luoyi looked weary today, her formerly gloomy eyes now radiated boundless vitality.
Amazed yet overjoyed, Huixiang felt a wave of happiness wash over her.
If her young mistress could rise again, nothing could be better. She even had a strong premonition that everything would slowly improve starting today!