#54: Banishment

Shi Luoyi didn’t notice the Cangwu Beast perched in the tree. She followed Uncle Liu to the side gate of the backyard and immediately spotted the youth under the eaves.

Bian Lingyu had originally been tending to a small purple clay pill furnace. On ordinary days, he would refine pills in the backyard, but today it was raining. The raindrops fell on the green tiles, forming strings of crystal-like beads that cascaded down one by one.

Thus, Bian Lingyu had moved the pill furnace beneath the eaves. His silver-white robes remained immaculate despite his work, making him look like an elegant young nobleman who had accidentally wandered into this mortal scene. His head was bowed as he carefully handled a medicinal herb.

Shi Luoyi’s footsteps were light, but Uncle Liu’s were heavy, so Bian Lingyu heard them and still didn’t raise his head.

It had been a month since Shi Luoyi last saw Bian Lingyu. Seeing him now, she realized how much thinner he had become compared to when they parted ways.

When she first brought him back from the barren mountains, his health had been poor. After nurturing him for some time, he had finally gained some weight, but now he seemed to have reverted to his previous state.

Bian Lingyu’s pale lips were slightly pursed as he worked with great focus.

Seeing his cold, pale face, Shi Luoyi recalled Hui Xiang’s words: “When he found me, he was covered in blood and looked terrifying—he must have been badly injured.”

Yet, Shi Luoyi saw no trace of pain on his face. He was like spring rain falling quietly onto the earth, shattering silently without learning to cry out in anguish.

Seeing him like this, her heart ached faintly—but mingled with that ache was another feeling, a quiet joy at simply being near him again.

Hearing Uncle Liu’s footsteps, Bian Lingyu gave a soft cough. “Leave the food there for now. I’ll eat later.”

Uncle Liu wanted to speak up and tell him that Miss had arrived, but Shi Luoyi shook her head.

She stood by the corner gate, her eyes smiling as she watched him for a long while before calling out softly, “Bian Lingyu!”

Bian Lingyu abruptly raised his head.

The warm yellow forsythia flowers scattered in the mud, their vibrant hues dulled by the rain-soaked world around them. Yet through the mud and dirt, another dazzling figure bloomed in his vision.

A young maiden holding a green umbrella stood just a few steps away, smiling at him. Her bright eyes sparkled, and the hair ornament adorning her head—a trailing begonia—swayed gently as she tilted her head to look at him.

Bian Lingyu stared at her in disbelief, as if gazing upon an impossible dream.

He still held the posture of tending the pill furnace, oblivious even to the sparks burning his fingers.

Just yesterday, Cangwu had asked him what he would do if Shi Luoyi came.

But upon hearing that question, Bian Lingyu’s heart felt no flicker of hope—it remained as calm as a frozen lake.

What could happen? Nothing.

This was a laughable question.

How could she possibly come? During those years when he was confined to this desolate courtyard, he had already understood one thing: no matter how far he traveled, he could never reach Shi Luoyi’s side.

Even though they had briefly become Dao companions, Bian Lingyu knew she was merely compensating him.

Not loving meant not loving.

A mortal’s life, to a cultivator, was fleeting like morning dew.

Yearning for her love? The mere thought made him feel more ridiculous. He had chosen to leave; why would she ever come back?

Bian Lingyu had long grown accustomed to abandoning futile desires. All of this—their brief marriage—was nothing more than fragile illusions, fleeting reflections in water. He had assumed Shi Luoyi hadn’t taken their union seriously either. Lately, he had thought about her less often than during the ten years he spent trapped in this courtyard. And because of that, he truly no longer felt pain.

The bamboo golem had already gathered all the necessary herbs to dispel her inner demons. These past few days, he had diligently refined pills and slept on schedule. Bian Lingyu believed he had finally found peace and could let go. But now, the sight of the maiden smiling at him through the rain effortlessly shattered the hard, cold shell he had built over these days.

Without warning, his carefully maintained tranquility was torn apart.

Bian Lingyu understood what this meant. Beneath the dense waves of joy lay an even sharper, silent pain. After ten years in the mortal realm, battered and broken both in body and spirit, he had finally earned a single glance from Shi Luoyi.

He had always been like a stone, letting her step on him to move forward. But now, the maiden finally paused to look at him, lifting him up when he was nearly reduced to ashes.

Her clear, black-and-white eyes finally reflected his shadow.

Bian Lingyu opened his mouth but found himself unable to utter a single word.

In the span of a few breaths, the young maiden had already walked to his side, taking his hand. “What are you doing? You burned your hand—you don’t feel the pain?”

His blistered fingers were carefully placed in her palm for inspection.

At some point, the oiled paper umbrella had fallen by the side gate. Her fingertips were cool, and the sound of raindrops splashing into puddles filled the courtyard.

Bian Lingyu closed his eyes, warmth welling in his eyelids. After a long while, he finally found his voice. “I’m fine. Why are you here?”

Hearing him ask this, Shi Luoyi gave a soft laugh. “Of course, I came to take you home. Though I told Fu Qiu that if I didn’t return, he should ask you whether you wanted to live among mortals, I did return, didn’t I? How could you not wait for me even a single month? You’re more heartless than the faithless men in shadow plays.”

Though her words accused him of being heartless, her eyes brimmed with gentle smiles, carrying no hint of reproach. “If you want to live in the mortal world on your own, you’ll probably have to wait a few more decades. I’m alive and well.”

Bian Lingyu lowered his gaze to his hand resting in her palm.

It was thin, pale, and devoid of color—a cold, cruel reminder of his fate.

The fire in the pill furnace crackled loudly. He had originally only known how to slay demons, not refine pills. But over the past ten years, he had learned many things he would never have imagined.

The calamity of demonic corruption in the mortal realm had passed, and his mission would end here. Bian Lingyu didn’t immediately withdraw his hand, allowing himself to linger for a moment in the warmth of her soft palms.

Though they had shared more intimate moments, this was the first time Shi Luoyi had actively sought closeness with him.

Her expression remained composed, but her ears bore a faint blush.

Seeing that Bian Lingyu remained silent and offered no explanation, and knowing her healing techniques wouldn’t help him, Shi Luoyi sighed helplessly and gently shook his hand. “Why aren’t you speaking? Are you coming back with me or not? Hui Xiang said you were injured. Let me see where and we’ll take you to Elder Hanshu for treatment.”

Bian Lingyu slowly withdrew his hand. He dared only hold it briefly. Now that the divine pearl within Shi Luoyi was unstable, he feared it might escape his proximity and break free. In a subdued tone, he said, “You should go. I won’t return with you.”

Bian Lingyu clutched the fleeting warmth belonging to him in his palm. This was enough. It was all he needed.

When Shi Luoyi came, she never imagined Bian Lingyu would refuse to follow her.

She froze momentarily, watching as he pulled his hand back, and couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”

“For no reason. This is my choice. Before we became Dao companions, you once said that if I ever had a place I wanted to go, you would grant my wish.”

“But…” Unable to contradict her own words, she hesitated. “Things are different now.”

Bian Lingyu’s grayish-black pupils gazed at her indifferently, not asking how things had changed.

The fact that she had come to see him was enough to melt the frost and snow in his world.

But as Hui Xiang had pondered, it was best if she remained oblivious. That way, she wouldn’t follow in her father’s footsteps. Within her resided his divine pearl. With her current low cultivation level and young age, she couldn’t yet bear its power. But if she grew stronger and could assimilate the divine pearl, ascension would be imminent.

Bian Lingyu said coldly, “This is my decision.”

Shi Luoyi had already been dragged down by Wei Changyuan during her youthful emotional entanglements. He didn’t want to become another Wei Changyuan.

To eliminate the fallen demons, Bian Lingyu had consumed too many Soul-Cleansing Pills, which had caused severe backlash. If he continued like this and didn’t leave, he would eventually turn into a monster far worse than when Shi Luoyi first met him.

By then, without his soul or the divine pearl, he would degenerate into an unfeeling beast, hunting like an animal, eating raw meat, remembering nothing, and unable to cultivate.

Heaven would not tolerate a deity lingering in the mortal realm. Eventually, he would slowly fade away.

In Bian Lingyu’s heart, this was already equivalent to death.

If he stayed at Buye Mountain, he would only hunt the mountain’s spirits. If she saw him like that, or if their closeness accidentally caused the divine pearl to return to him, forcing him to watch Shi Luoyi die, he would suffer more than simply vanishing from this world.

When Cangwu sneaked over to eavesdrop, he witnessed what seemed to be a scene of irreparable rupture.

Cangwu stared dumbfounded, unable to understand what was wrong with Bian Lingyu. Wasn’t this the moment they had always hoped for?

But Shi Luoyi wasn’t hurt by Bian Lingyu’s coldness.

The logic of a sword cultivator maiden like her had always been different from others. Once she believed in something, it rarely wavered.

For instance, she had already come to believe that Bian Lingyu liked her. If he refused to return with her now, there could only be one reason:

Bian Lingyu had some hidden trouble.

She slowly crouched before him, her worry outweighing any anger as she examined him. “Did something happen to you? Are you badly injured, which is why you don’t want to go back with me?”

Though Bian Lingyu appeared calm while speaking those words, blood nearly surged up his throat.

He had thought his resolute words would make Shi Luoyi give up on him. Yet, not only was she not angry, but she also hit the nail on the head, completely guessing correctly.

“... No, just leave,” Bian Lingyu said, the surge of blood in his throat caught between rising and falling under her bright gaze.

“Then give me a reason, or I won’t leave!”

Bian Lingyu remained silent.

The rain eased slightly, and a girl in a cloth shirt carrying tea ran through the side gate. Bian Lingyu spoke, “Because I like her now. You’ve always known how fickle mortals are.”

Following his gaze, Shi Luoyi saw A’Xiu.

Shi Luoyi’s eyes widened, surprised to see A’Xiu here.

A’Xiu didn’t know Shi Luoyi had arrived. Her mother wanted to marry her off as a concubine to an old man. She cried her eyes out, but her mother accepted the dowry anyway. A’Xiu fled the village, only to have her money stolen by thieves. Sick, hungry, and miserable, she collapsed outside this courtyard.

By some stroke of luck, Uncle Liu found her, and Bian Lingyu recognized her, coldly saying, “Keep her.”

Now, hearing the once celestial young master declare his affection for her, A’Xiu trembled so much she could barely hold the tea steady.

Looking at Shi Luoyi, A’Xiu hurriedly shook her head. “No, no, no! Me and Master…”

Bian Lingyu glared at her, and under his gaze, A’Xiu swallowed the rest of her sentence. This was her benefactor. Confused and unsure, she looked helplessly at Shi Luoyi.

By now, A’Xiu’s mind was blank. Compared to the awe-inspiring impression Bian Lingyu had left on her, the memory of Shi Luoyi personally draping a cloak around her shoulders was clearer.

Shi Luoyi successfully picked up on A’Xiu’s panic, becoming even more certain that Bian Lingyu was hiding something from her.

Perhaps it was related to his secret.

Frowning, she turned back to look at Bian Lingyu. She hadn’t been upset earlier, but now, a strange feeling churned within her.

She didn’t fully understand why yet, but if she became enlightened, she would realize that Bian Lingyu hadn’t once said the word “like” to her, yet he had said it to A’Xiu.

She tugged at Bian Lingyu’s robe and asked, “Do you really like A’Xiu?”

Bian Lingyu remained silent.

Shi Luoyi struggled to suppress the rising feelings of grievance and anger. “Look me in the eye and say it once. Say you like A’Xiu, and I’ll believe you. Say it, and I’ll leave immediately.”

Under his sleeve, Bian Lingyu’s hand clenched so tightly it almost drew blood.

He abruptly raised his head to meet her gaze. Their eyes locked, and Shi Luoyi pursed her lips, stubbornly staring at him. Bian Lingyu opened his mouth as if to speak, but under her gaze, the words wouldn’t come out. Clenching his jaw tightly, his face grew pale. “...”

Suddenly, Shi Luoyi smiled.

She tilted her head to look at him, her eyes sparkling brightly as if to say, I knew it!

Laughing, she ran out the door.

Though she knew Bian Lingyu might be in trouble, after two lifetimes of experience, Shi Luoyi understood better than anyone the unpredictable nature of life. It wasn’t just that Bian Lingyu might not live much longer—her own demonic affliction could flare up again, and she might not survive long either.

Life was fleeting; how could one obsess over every outcome?

She had always fought against heaven and fate. In her heart, staying together was already difficult enough. Even if they couldn’t last forever, perhaps they could still seize a fleeting moment of happiness.

Bian Lingyu watched her run past the side gate, her presence warmer and more radiant than the forsythia flowers. The rain had stopped.

She summoned a crane to fly into the sky, calling for Elder Hanshu to save him.

Shi Luoyi was like a spring breeze, cheerfully running to Uncle Liu’s side. The courtyard echoed with the crisp voice of the young maiden: “Uncle Liu, help me prepare some things. I’ll stay here for a while.”

Uncle Liu chuckled and readily agreed.

The apricot blossoms lay scattered on the ground, but after being washed by the rain, some still clung tenaciously, blooming vibrantly on the branches.

Despite Bian Lingyu’s cold gaze and his attempts to remain aloof and drive her away, he couldn’t suppress the bright smile in the maiden’s eyes. Nor could he stop her from standing beside A’Xiu, the two girls chatting amiably. A’Xiu even offered Shi Luoyi the freshly brewed tea.

Bian Lingyu lowered his gaze to the purple clay furnace, only to realize after a while that the warmth of the maiden’s touch still lingered faintly in his palm. Not only had he failed to drive her away, but the surge of blood in his throat had unknowingly subsided.