#39: Probing

In the end, Shi Luoyi was unable to get an answer out of him.

After the meal, Fu Qiu waited outside the door, ready to report on the events that had transpired in Bu Ye Mountain over the past few years.

Fu Qiu had followed Shi Huan since he was young. By seniority, Shi Luoyi ought to call him “Uncle.” He was a wolf spirit who had undergone transformation, but many years ago, he had accidentally injured his inner core, preventing further progress in his cultivation.

Shi Huan had allowed him to stay in Bu Ye Mountain, and since then, Fu Qiu had taken charge of managing some of the mountain’s affairs.

Fu Qiu had built a family in Bu Ye Mountain, marrying a white wolf spirit and fathering a son. The smooth execution of Shi Luoyi and Bian Lingyu’s wedding was largely due to Fu Qiu’s diligent efforts and capable arrangements during this time.

Fu Qiu brought stacks of records detailing everything that had happened in Bu Ye Mountain during the years Shi Luoyi had been absent, presenting them to her for review.

Glancing at the small mountain of books beside her, Shi Luoyi sighed. There were very few humans in Bu Ye Mountain—most inhabitants were spirits. Other places might not tolerate their presence, but Bu Ye Mountain was their haven. Among the spirits, there were those who were purely good and others who were evil. To either restrain or protect them, Bu Ye Mountain had strict rules: spirits born here were forbidden from leaving the mountain without permission; otherwise, they would be considered traitors.

This was why, after Shi Luoyi had left Bu Ye Mountain in her previous life, she had found herself isolated and without support.

Even Fu Qiu, being of wolf lineage, could not break his vow and leave the mountain easily.

Now that Shi Luoyi had returned home, Fu Qiu was delighted, his eyes crinkling with joy. After exchanging pleasantries for a while, Fu Qiu asked if Shi Luoyi wanted to look over the list of congratulatory gifts sent by various sects yesterday.

Shi Luoyi asked, “Was there anything unusual?”

Fu Qiu listed off names of precious treasures and magical artifacts, then paused, frowning slightly: “The emperor of Nan Yue also sent a gift—a chest of pearls from the Southern Sea merfolk. He also conveyed through intermediaries that if Miss wishes to return to Nan Yue to pay respects at your mother’s grave, you need only send word via a crane beforehand, and he will personally come to welcome you.”

Shi Luoyi was somewhat surprised. Out of courtesy, she had indeed sent a spiritual crane to inform Nan Yue of her marriage.

“Who is the current emperor of Nan Yue? I remember that during my mother’s lifetime, my father made an agreement with Nan Yue, forbidding the captivity of merfolk. Why would he still present such a gift as pearls from merfolk?”

Fu Qiu replied: “Miss may not be aware, but five years ago, there was a coup in the Nan Yue palace. The current emperor is Zhao Shu.”

The name “Zhao Shu” sounded familiar. Shi Luoyi thought carefully and vaguely recalled a face. Thirteen years ago, when her father had taken her back to Nan Yue to visit her mother’s grave, there had been a prince who had been exiled to guard the imperial tombs. He had been mauled by guard wolves and was on the verge of death. Passing by the tomb, she had seen how young he was and treated his wounds, later escorting him back to his quarters.

That half-grown youth had seemed to be named Zhao Shu.

She hadn’t expected him not only to survive but also to become the current emperor of Nan Yue.

Shi Luoyi felt a complex mix of emotions. Though she was of Nan Yue’s royal bloodline, she no longer had any familial ties with these descendants.

Her uncle, the former emperor, had few heirs—only one crown prince, who had tragically died young. In his later years, he had been forced to adopt a distant relative to inherit the throne.

After Princess Wan Xun’s death, aside from visiting every ten years to pay respects at her mother’s grave, Shi Luoyi rarely interacted with the successive emperors of Nan Yue.

“What does Zhao Shu mean by this?” Shi Luoyi asked.

Fu Qiu shook his head.

If Zhao Shu’s intent was to congratulate Shi Luoyi’s marriage, he certainly shouldn’t have sent something as cruel as merfolk pearls. But if his intent was to provoke, it was odd that he would send an entire chest of these rare and valuable pearls.

Even for an emperor, sending gifts to an immortal mountain like Bu Ye required considerable effort, yet Zhao Shu’s timing was impeccable—it arrived just in time for the wedding.

“If Miss plans to visit Nan Yue this year to sweep the graves, perhaps you should go see for yourself?” Fu Qiu suggested.

Shi Luoyi nodded.

She felt a strange sense of unease, fearing that Zhao Shu might not only have violated the treaty by raising merfolk but also secretly kept demonic creatures. Nan Yue was, after all, both her and her mother’s homeland. If it were to walk the path of ruin or become the enemy of the world, it would be deeply regrettable.

As the two spoke, Bian Lingyu sat nearby, drinking medicine.

The medicine had been prepared early that morning according to Han Shu’s instructions. Bian Lingyu knew it wouldn’t help, and initially, he hadn’t intended to drink it.

But Shi Luoyi kept glancing at his medicine bowl during her conversation. After a brief silence, he drank it anyway.

Sitting across from him, Shi Luoyi saw that he had obediently consumed the medicine. Her brows relaxed, and even as she spoke with Fu Qiu, a faint smile played on her lips.

Bian Lingyu didn’t struggle with drinking the medicine as others might. His expression remained as calm as if he were sipping water or tea.

Even Ding Bai, watching from the side, felt the bitterness of the medicine vicariously, but Bian Lingyu didn’t so much as flinch.

As Fu Qiu reported, he occasionally glanced at Bian Lingyu, recalling the moon-viewing silkworm his son, Fu Cang, had entrusted him to give to Shi Luoyi. He sighed quietly.

Yesterday, during Shi Luoyi’s wedding, he had ordered his wife to confine Fu Cang to his room for the day.

Fu Cang had always harbored feelings for Miss Shi, but she had never known. The more reluctant he had been to confess back then, the more painful his regret now.

What angered Fu Cang even more was that Shi Luoyi had chosen a frail mortal.

Unable to resist his son’s near self-destructive persistence, Fu Qiu had reluctantly agreed to bring the moon-viewing silkworm Fu Cang had raised for so long, intending to give it to Shi Luoyi when the opportunity arose. Now, seeing how Shi Luoyi treated Bian Lingyu, Fu Qiu chose to pretend the silkworm didn’t exist.

Miss Shi shared her father’s temperament—always decisive and straightforward. Not only did she not reciprocate Fu Cang’s feelings, but his son’s irritating personality also made it difficult for anyone to notice his affection for her.

Though Fu Qiu didn’t understand why Miss Shi had formed a Dao partnership with a mortal, it was clear that she wasn’t indifferent to Bian Lingyu.

After Fu Qiu took his leave, Bian Lingyu, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke: “You’re going to Nan Yue to sweep the graves?”

Shi Luoyi hadn’t expected him to show interest: “Were you listening to our conversation just now?”

“Yes,” Bian Lingyu replied. “If you go, I’ll accompany you.”

Shi Luoyi was momentarily stunned: “Do you want to pay respects to my mother?”

By all rights, since her father was still slumbering in the Delusion Sea and she had just married, she should take her Dao partner to visit her mother’s grave. However, given that their partnership was a sham, Shi Luoyi wouldn’t demand such a thing of Bian Lingyu. His voluntary offer caught her completely off guard.

Realizing how his words might imply he intended to accompany her on a formal post-marriage visit, Bian Lingyu quickly clarified his true intent. Earlier, while listening to Shi Luoyi and Fu Qiu discuss Zhao Shu, he had sensed an ominous shift akin to the disturbance of an emperor’s star. He suspected that the Zhu Yan, which had escaped under his watch, might now be active.

Zhu Yan symbolized war, slaughter, and tyranny.

As an emperor, Zhao Shu had already broken the treaty by raising merfolk. If he were to wage war against neighboring states, it would only nourish the Zhu Yan’s influence. Therefore, it was likely that the Zhu Yan had infiltrated Nan Yue and was manipulating the emperor.

Facing Shi Luoyi’s surprised gaze, however, he couldn’t explain the Zhu Yan’s fall from grace. For the moment, he could only remain silent.

Shi Luoyi hadn’t expected him to offer no explanation. Amid the ensuing silence, she dryly remarked: “Then once you’ve recovered, we’ll return to Nan Yue together. There’s no rush.”

Bian Lingyu nodded.

Shi Luoyi glanced at him a few more times before picking up a ledger and attempting to read it, though her thoughts wandered.

Bian Lingyu had no idea how peculiar Shi Luoyi’s thought process was. In the past, he had done so many things for her—the peachwood sword, the divine blood pill, the clay rabbit, shielding her from the venom of the Unchanging Toad—but she had always assumed they were either coincidental, motivated by ulterior intentions, or done on behalf of Bian Qingxuan.

Now, knowing that he didn’t have much time left to live, Bian Lingyu harbored no illusions about forming a real Dao partnership with Shi Luoyi. Aside from these fleeting moments of stolen peace, his mind was solely focused on eradicating the Zhu Yan, which posed a threat to all living beings.

He knew better than to involve himself with Shi Luoyi, and when he offered to accompany her to Nan Yue, he hadn’t considered himself in the role of her Dao partner.

Nor did he expect Shi Luoyi to misinterpret his intentions.

But Shi Luoyi’s thoughts took a different turn. She flipped open a ledger recording the mundane affairs of Bu Ye Mountain but couldn’t focus on its contents after a long while.

Her mind drifted as she wondered why Bian Lingyu wanted to pay respects to her mother.

This time, there was no involvement from Bian Qingxuan, nor could Bian Lingyu’s actions be attributed to his sister. Their wedding had already passed, and there was no need to keep up appearances to this extent. In mortal customs, only a man deeply in love with his wife would place importance on the ritual of returning to her family home.

Could it be that he feared for his safety if he stayed behind on Bu Ye Mountain? That was impossible—after staying here for so long, he must have realized that Bu Ye Mountain was far safer than the outside world. Moreover, despite enduring such excruciating pain, he remained calm and composed—not the type to fear danger.

She couldn’t find a reason for Bian Lingyu to insist on accompanying her back to her family home. Yet, inexplicably, her thoughts drifted to the way he had carried her across the heavenly steps, his insistence on lifting her veil while drunk, the bottle of Nv’er Hong he had brought out only on their wedding night, and the lingering, tender kiss he had placed in her hair.

Though it was possible that the effects of drunkenness and incense had influenced him, there were certain things he could have chosen not to do—like carrying her across the heavenly steps, which brought him no benefit.

Shi Luoyi blinked, shocked by the audacious thought that crossed her mind: Could it be… that Bian Lingyu liked her?

The absurdity of the idea almost made her laugh. How could that be? Just months ago, he had looked at her with eyes that seemed ready to strangle her. And given how cruelly she had treated him in the past, how could he possibly harbor feelings for her?

Yet, if he didn’t like her, that also didn’t seem right. Why else would he want to accompany her back to her family home?

She was utterly baffled. If this were anyone else, she would have simply asked outright. But this was Bian Lingyu.

She had worked so hard to earn his forgiveness, and now they were constantly in each other’s presence. What if he denied it and became angry, perceiving her question as an insult? All her efforts would be undone, and their future interactions would become strained.

With this weight on her mind, Shi Luoyi flipped through the ledger absentmindedly, unable to absorb its contents.

After lunch, Bian Lingyu retired to rest and recuperate. She summoned the fox spirit.

The fox, assuming it was being rewarded, grinned broadly: “So, Fairy, how was last night? Not bad, I presume?”

Shi Luoyi couldn’t help but laugh at its misplaced confidence: “Not bad? It was absolutely heart-stopping!” The fox had nearly gotten Bian Lingyu killed, leaving her too terrified to sleep all night.

Thinking about it still made her angry, but she restrained herself, as she had questions for the fox.

“What kind of incense did you burn last night? Does it make people lose control and act intimately with others?”

The fox, fearing Shi Luoyi might think it had used something underhanded, quickly explained: “That was Joyful Union Incense—a perfectly harmless substance. It doesn’t harm the body, can’t control people, and even strengthens them. I only used it because I heard Master was ill. At most, it adds a bit of ambiance—it doesn’t affect one’s mental faculties.”

Shi Luoyi murmured softly: “I see. Then tell me, if someone were drunk, would they do… strange things to someone they don’t like?”

“How strange are we talking about?”

“For example… asking for intimacy?”

The fox smirked slyly: “If he were drunk and still recognized who was in front of him and sought intimacy, it would definitely mean he has feelings for that person.”

“…” Shi Luoyi persisted, unconvinced: “What if it were a combination of drunkenness and Joyful Union Incense? Would that make someone irrational?”

The fox hesitated, stumped: “I don’t know. Who uses Joyful Union Incense and then gets drunk?” It muttered inwardly, thinking this was redundant.

Shi Luoyi felt both relieved and more uneasy. Seeing she wouldn’t get any clearer answers, and the fox still looked expectant of a reward, she scoffed: “Fine. Go to the Cliff of Reflection and meditate for a month. Focus on your transformation practice and stop overthinking pointless things.”

The fox left with a mournful expression, still unsure where it had gone wrong.

Shi Luoyi’s conversation with the fox left her more confused than before.

She still had no idea what Bian Lingyu was thinking or how to handle the situation.

If he didn’t like her, they could continue as a fake Dao couple without issue. But if he did harbor feelings for her, what should she do?

Mortal lives were fleeting, and across her past and present lives, the only person she truly owed was Bian Lingyu.

In her previous life, she had fallen into demonic corruption and died without ever finding someone who truly loved her. As a result, she was completely lost when it came to matters of the heart.

When she had pursued Wei Changyuan, it had been driven by obsession and growing inner demons. The concept of mutual affection was something she had forgotten long ago.

As the night deepened, Shi Luoyi realized that rather than obsessing over what she should do, the more immediate challenge was how to navigate tonight’s interaction.

Last night, during their wedding, Bian Lingyu had gotten drunk, and she had spent half the night worrying about him. But tonight, he was feeling better, and she would have to return to this room—both of them fully aware and clear-headed.

For a sword cultivator, unresolved matters gnawed at her like an itch she couldn’t scratch. With试探 in mind, she decided to test Bian Lingyu’s attitude. She would first observe his reaction and then decide how to respond.

When she returned to the room, Bian Lingyu had rested all afternoon but had only just woken up due to his severe injuries.

Meeting Bian Lingyu’s gaze, Shi Luoyi turned her head and instructed the spirits: “Fetch some water—I wish to bathe.”

Shi Luoyi forced herself to remain composed as she watched the spirits come and go, filling the tub. Only then did she glance at Bian Lingyu’s reaction.

Bian Lingyu hadn’t expected her to bathe in the same room. After a long silence, he followed her gaze toward the busy spirits, waiting for her to realize he was still in the room.

But even after the tub was filled, Shi Luoyi showed no sign of changing her mind. He frowned slightly and waited a little longer, expecting her to realize the impropriety of the situation—or at least ask him to step out.

The spirits bowed and exited.

Under the dim light of a single lamp, the room exuded warmth and tranquility. Shi Luoyi met Bian Lingyu’s calm, grayish-black eyes. He seemed unperturbed, meeting her gaze steadily when she looked at him.

If he truly harbored feelings for her, wouldn’t he show some reaction? At the very least, shouldn’t he feel embarrassed?

Now it was Shi Luoyi who found herself in a dilemma. She looked at the serene, godlike youth before her. Should she proceed with the bath or not?