Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
After finishing their lunch, Shi Luoyi took Bian Lingyu to the mountainside.
The bear demon she intended to discipline today was naturally lazy, having seized the goat spirit’s cave and constantly raiding others’ dwellings for food. Relying on its thick skin and shamelessness, it had bullied nearly every spirit within several li.
The spirits had complained to Fu Qiu multiple times, but with Fu Qiu unable to cultivate and preoccupied with other matters, he couldn’t deal with the bear demon himself.
Shi Luoyi wanted to clean up the morals of Buye Mountain before returning to Southern Yue, so she decided to make an example of this bear demon.
She led Bian Lingyu to a hillside halfway up the mountain and tucked a light blanket around him: “The bear demon is reckless. To avoid any harm to you, would you mind waiting here?”
Bian Lingyu naturally had no objections. From the hillside, he could still see Shi Luoyi. Today, she wore an apricot-colored skirt, like a streak of flowing sunlight on Buye Mountain. The young girl carried her large blade and entered the bear demon’s cave. Not long after, the bear demon was chased out, howling in distress.
The nearby spirits who had taken human form gathered to watch the spectacle.
Shi Luoyi was as beloved on Buye Mountain as her father had been. Some came not just to see the bear demon punished, but simply to catch a glimpse of her.
Among them, one gaze stood out—belonging to a wolf demon with white-gold hair. He bore a resemblance to Fu Qiu and was none other than Fu Qiu’s only son, Fu Cang.
Shi Luoyi tied up the bear demon and ordered someone to take it to Siguo Cliff, where it would be imprisoned for thirty years.
The spirits eager to impress her scrambled for the task. The crowd parted, and Fu Cang stepped forward, his eyes fixed solely on Shi Luoyi: “Luo Yi, let me do it.”
The other spirits exchanged glances but dared not contest with him. After all, his father, Fu Qiu, was one of the founding elders. While everyone else addressed Shi Luoyi as “Fairy” or “Miss,” Fu Cang had always called her by her name since childhood, refusing to change even when scolded by his mother or Fu Qiu.
Shi Luoyi didn’t mind such trivialities and handed the rope binding the bear demon to Fu Cang.
From his vantage point above, Bian Lingyu observed everything unfolding below.
His expression remained calm and detached, as if carved from cold jade, unwaveringly serene.
Once Shi Luoyi finished handling the matter, she walked over to him and said: “It’s done. Let’s go home.”
On their way back, they passed a group of spirits who had already taken human form, bustling about with joy on their faces. That’s when Shi Luoyi remembered—tonight, there would be a shadow puppet performance at the market on this side of the mountain.
Though Buye Mountain was predominantly inhabited by spirits, a small number of mortals also lived there across generations. Under Shi Huan’s rule of 1,600 years, many aspects of mortal life could still be glimpsed here.
If it were just her, Shi Luoyi wouldn’t have cared much for shadow puppetry. But now that she had a Dao partner, she felt responsible for tending to his emotions as well.
So she asked Bian Lingyu: “Would you like to watch the shadow puppet play?”
“What is that?”
It was Shi Luoyi’s turn to be surprised: “You’ve never seen it?”
Bian Lingyu had only been in the mortal realm for ten years, and for seven of those, he had been recovering due to Shi Luoyi taking the divine pearl. Naturally, he hadn’t seen any shadow puppet performances.
Shi Luoyi exclaimed in astonishment: “Didn’t your parents take you to see it when you were little?”
She assumed every mortal had seen shadow puppetry, or at least heard of it. As far as she knew, during festivals in the mortal realm, such performances were common on the streets, and fathers would bring their children to watch.
Bian Lingyu replied: “No.”
“So what did you usually do as a child?”
Bian Lingyu gazed into her clear eyes, paused for a moment, and said: “I was imprisoned.”
She was stunned: “Who imprisoned you?”
“My mother.”
When he mentioned the word “mother,” there was no trace of warmth in Bian Lingyu’s gray-ink eyes, as though he were speaking of a stranger.
Shi Luoyi hadn’t expected such an answer. She recalled Xue An’s account of his past and how Bian Qingxuan treated him now. When Bian Lingyu spoke of being imprisoned, there was no resentment in his eyes—only clarity and calmness, as if he didn’t think it was wrong. Yet, for a child, it was unbearably cruel. Though he spoke so calmly, her heart ached faintly for him.
Shi Luoyi understood that this was part of Bian Lingyu’s painful past, much like the “Tianxing Ravine” he had once mentioned. Without pressing further, she smiled and said: “It doesn’t matter. Tonight, I’ll take you to see it.”
Bian Lingyu looked at her: “Alright.”
At dusk, she returned to finish the last of her tasks, keeping her promise. Once night fell, she brought Bian Lingyu to watch the shadow puppet play.
The surroundings were pitch black, save for the small area illuminated by the performance.
Those who enjoyed such things were mostly young spirits who had recently taken human form. Many cultivators and spirits, over the course of their long lives, had gradually lost interest and curiosity in such entertainments.
Ironically, they pursued immortality relentlessly, even aspiring to become gods and live as long as heaven and earth.
As the master of Buye Mountain, Shi Luoyi didn’t intend to draw attention. She simply wanted to bring her Dao partner, who had suffered cruel treatment as a child, to experience some lively entertainment.
The front rows were already occupied by young spirits.
Shi Luoyi led Bian Lingyu to sit in the back.
Under the dense twilight, the low-level spirits were engrossed in the shadow puppet stage. She and Bian Lingyu sat in a corner, where the cool night breeze of Buye Mountain carried the scent of apricot blossoms. Looking around, Shi Luoyi noticed a grove of apricot trees nearby.
When she had been reborn, it had still been winter, with snowflakes falling heavily. Unbeknownst to her, spring had arrived.
The person she had once been at odds with in her previous life now sat beside her, his handsome face aloof, watching the stage along with the spirits.
Behind the curtain, performing the shadow puppets, was an elephant demon and his mortal wife. It was hard to imagine that such a burly creature could craft such delicate shadow puppets.
The shadow puppet plays favored by spirits often revolved around themes of love and relationships.
Today’s performance told the story of a man who, after passing the imperial exams, abandoned his humble wife and married the daughter of a noble family. Unaware of her husband’s betrayal, the wife stayed in their hometown, raising their child and caring for her sick in-laws. Finally, upon learning of her husband’s infidelity, she resolved to sever ties with him completely.
Shi Luoyi had watched this shadow puppet play as a child and hadn’t expected it to still be performed after so many years. She remembered the second half of the story: the man was mistreated by his noble wife and, due to a mistake in his official duties, was exiled. Only then did he recall the goodness of his former wife. But it was too late—his wife had remarried and was now living happily.
Many young female spirits, halfway through the performance, were already wiping tears for the pitiful “wife” in the story.
Unable to resist, Shi Luoyi glanced at Bian Lingyu’s reaction. His stern, youthful face was clearly visible even in the dark. He sat quietly like a statue of jade, his eyes devoid of any ripples.
He showed no sympathy for the “wife,” nor any condemnation for the man.
He sat there like a deity, coldly observing the mortal world.
Unable to resist, Shi Luoyi whispered to him: “Is it interesting?”
Hearing her voice, Bian Lingyu lowered his gaze to look at her. After a brief hesitation, he murmured softly: “Mm, it’s interesting.”
She smiled: “You’re lying. You didn’t show any expression—how could you say you liked it?”
Bian Lingyu truly couldn’t understand or empathize. He could face his own suffering with calmness; how much less would he be moved by a mere turbulent story?
To gods, sentient beings were objects of detached pity. They could sacrifice themselves for the safety of the six realms but wouldn’t become entangled in the trivial sufferings of individuals. Only through such detachment could the six realms maintain balance and endure.
When Bian Lingyu returned to the divine realm at the age of one thousand, this was the legacy his father passed on to him.
The Divine Lord had already made this mistake, so he erased the concept of divine love from the inheritance. On his deathbed, he warned Bian Lingyu to remain cold-hearted—to give the future Divine Empress what she desired but never to fall in love with her and repeat his mistakes.
When the gods chose a bride for Bian Lingyu, he felt indifferent about who it would be. When Qingxuan descended with him, he merely regarded this cousin as another weapon to fight for the sake of all living beings. With the greater mission at hand, there was no distinction between men and women—all gods were prepared to sacrifice.
Now, as Bian Lingyu gazed at the young girl before him, her floral fragrance mingling in the air, her scarf overlapping with his clothes, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of something unspoken.
He had even given her the divine pearl, yet she would never become his Divine Empress.
All he could do now was accompany her as a mortal on this short journey. Did he feel resentment? He asked himself that, and yes, he did. But if given the chance to choose again, he would still give her the divine pearl.
He wanted to see Shi Luoyi live happily—like now, joyfully thriving in Buye Mountain.
“If you don’t like shadow puppet plays, then tell me what you do like. I’ll find it for you,” she said earnestly, her long lashes fluttering. It seemed that as long as her Dao partner spoke, she would stop at nothing to fulfill his wish.
Bian Lingyu remained silent, simply watching her.
In front of them sat a pair of mountain cat spouses. Spring had arrived, and the night was dark. The creaking sounds of the shadow puppets drowned out the intimate whispers of their lips meeting. As their clothes rustled, the sounds grew increasingly inappropriate.
Perhaps other low-level spirits couldn’t hear it, but both Shi Luoyi and Bian Lingyu heard it clearly.
Shi Luoyi froze, feeling his gray-ink eyes on her. Her expression turned strained.
“No… no, this isn’t right,” she stammered.
The events of last night were still vivid in her mind. She shouldn’t have asked Bian Lingyu what he liked at a time like this.
At first, Bian Lingyu hadn’t thought anything of it. The intimacy between the mountain cats wasn’t enough to stir a god’s desires. But he had never seen Shi Luoyi like this. The young girl misinterpreted his intentions, thinking he wanted to be intimate with her here and now. Her cheeks flushed red, and she shifted restlessly.
The remnants of Bian Lingyu’s youthful nature only flared up like wildfire when he was with her. Calmly, he told her: “They can’t see us.”
The maiden, who hadn’t been this nervous even while wielding her blade in broad daylight, hesitated: “You… are you sure you want to?”
Bian Lingyu’s lips curved slightly upward, but Shi Luoyi, preoccupied with her dilemma, didn’t notice.
Bian Lingyu replied: “Mm.”
Shi Luoyi wrestled with herself internally. One voice told her they were still outside, surrounded by countless spirits. As the master of Buye Mountain, how could she act so improperly? Another voice countered: You were the one who said you’d be his Dao partner. He has never even seen a shadow puppet play, and now he only has this one request. Even mountain cats behave like this with their partners—you’re not even treating your Dao partner as well as they do.
Taking a deep breath, she resolved: “How about… we go into the woods?”
Bian Lingyu glanced at her blushing face and her damp, pitiful eyes. At this moment, even if he hadn’t intended it before, he now did. So he said: “Mm.”
The shadow puppet play continued with its second half—the part Shi Luoyi had loved most as a child. For the first time, she left without finishing it, distractedly following Bian Lingyu into the nearby grove.
It wasn’t yet April in the mortal realm, and immortal mountains were often colder. The apricot blossoms were half-open, and only by entering the grove could one catch their faint fragrance.
Moonlight filtered through the trees, making the forest brighter than where they had watched the shadow puppet play.
As Shi Luoyi walked deeper into the grove, an inexplicable sense of shame welled up within her. Though she tried to steady herself, reminding herself that this was normal—they had kissed last night, and today she could handle it too—it would soon be over.
To accommodate her Dao partner, she crouched slightly in front of Bian Lingyu. Despite her burning ears, she looked up at him, attempting to negotiate: “Today… could you not do that?”
Do what?
Though he didn’t speak, his eyes conveyed the question.
Google Sites
Report abuse