Beyond the dense forest lay a dead-end cliff. A Wind Wolf (Fēng Láng) with a gray back and a crimson forehead stood crouching in front of the cliff, its fur bristling as its eyes stared ahead, drenched in sheer terror. Scattered in the gravel beneath the cliff lay a dead Spiritual-Ear Rabbit (Líng'ěr Tù).
This rabbit had originally been the prey hunted by the Wind Wolf, yet now, a cluster of mist hovered between the two.
The mist was pitch-black, resembling a cluster of black flames floating mid-air. It possessed no physical form, its shape shifting continuously—faintly taking the outline of a human figure before suddenly splitting open from the middle to pounce toward the Wind Wolf.
Had anyone been standing nearby, they would have seen a gaping, hollow mouth devouring its way toward the beast. The Wind Wolf let out a couple of whimpers, its body seemingly bound by an unseen force. Unable to flee, it could only watch as the black mist swept right up to its face.
Just as this "mouth" was about to bite down on the Wind Wolf, a faint rustle echoed from the dense woods.
The corner of a robe flickered into view—someone was coming.
The black mist froze abruptly. The instant the person appeared, it shot down like a bolt of lightning, diving straight into the corpse of the Spiritual-Ear Rabbit lying on the ground.
A cyan talisman shot out from the dense woods, transforming into a wooden spike that struck the Wind Wolf. The wolf let out a wail—whether out of pain or something else, it showed no desire to fight, tucked its tail between its legs, and fled into the distance.
Only then did Yú Nántáng step out from the forest, another offensive cyan talisman still held between her fingers. She surveyed her surroundings vigilantly, relaxing slightly once she confirmed it was merely a Wind Wolf causing trouble.
Wind Wolves were low-intelligence carnivorous beasts that posed little threat to cultivators. Judging by the scene, it had likely just been hunting.
She walked over to the cliff in a few steps and squatted down beside the Spiritual-Ear Rabbit.
Spiritual-Ear Rabbits were minor spiritual beasts that grew in the Miánlóng Mountain Range (Miánlóng Shānmài). They lacked offensive capabilities, but possessed extraordinarily sharp hearing and agile speed, making them difficult to catch.
With that thought in mind, she grabbed the Spiritual-Ear Rabbit by its ears and lifted it up.
The body of a Spiritual-Ear Rabbit was half the size of a normal rabbit, but its ears were longer than its entire body. Normally, they drooped meekly on both sides of its head, but at the slightest stir of wind or grass, the ears would perk straight up—hence the name "Spiritual-Ear."
Truth be told, the snowy-white rabbit in her hand was undeniably adorable. No wonder that despite being completely useless, it was a pet that female cultivators in the immortal realm clamored to raise. If sold, it could fetch a decent sum of immortal coins.
Of course, that was assuming it wasn't dead.
Just as Yú Nántáng was thinking this, the Spiritual-Ear Rabbit she held in her hand suddenly opened its eyes.
It didn't struggle at all, merely staring straight at her with its jet-black, bead-like eyes.
For a moment, one person and one rabbit stared at each other as if frozen in place.
Yú Nántáng brought the Spiritual-Ear Rabbit back to Yúnchuān (Cloud River).
Before she was infected with the Love-Locking Gu (Suǒqíng Gǔ), she had also been an innocent, romantic female cultivator who loved raising these adorable little creatures. Later, after contracting the Gu, her temperament altered drastically. To prevent her uncontrollable outbursts from hurting the small animals, she had endured the heartbreak during a lucid moment to give away the two Purple-Tailed Cats (Zǐwěi Māo) and Snow Sparrow (Xuě Què) she had raised for years to her fellow disciples.
At that time, she no longer had any friends left in the sect.
Her past heroic act of saving her fellow disciples had somehow been twisted over time into a calculated conspiracy: using the Love-Locking Gu to force Jiāng Zhǐ to bind himself to her, aiding her cultivation, and ultimately becoming the Sect Master's Wife—quite a masterstroke of a scheme.
She had argued with those who spread such rumors and defended herself, but what was the point? The more she defended herself, the more unreasonable she appeared.
People were often far more willing to believe in malice than to easily believe that true kindness existed in this world.
Add to that the torment of the demon Gu and Jiāng Zhǐ's decade-spanning cold detachment, her resentment was magnified, and her temper grew progressively worse. A bad temper inevitably gave people more fodder to gossip about—a vicious cycle day after day, until she realized she had birthed inner heart demons.
Without her knowing on which exact day it started, she had fallen silent, no longer defending herself nor attempting to salvage her reputation.
She knew this wasn't because her heart demons had vanished, but because she was trying every possible way to suppress herself.
The nine-tiered bell along the corridor chimed with a clear ding-ling, and the doors of Yúnchuān Hall were swept open by a gust of wind.
A figure stepped through the ambient light at the entrance.
"Niè Yǐn said you were looking for me?" Before the figure became clear, his voice arrived first.
The slightly deep male voice sounded pleasant to the ear, seemingly gentle, yet upon closer listening, it contained no trace of emotion.
The visitor was Jiāng Zhǐ, Yú Nántáng's Dà Shīxiōng and the Sect Master of Chóngxū Gōng (Chóngxū Palace). He walked into the main hall with steady steps, clad in a semi-new sky-blue robe. His hair was bound in a bun behind his head, standing upright like a pine or cypress, with refined, handsome features—a remarkably handsome man.
Yú Nántáng sat on the lotus bed, not even raising her head, uttering only a simple "Mm."
The rabbit's hind leg had been injured by the wolf's claws, left bloody and raw, and she was currently dressing its wound.
"Little guy, endure it a bit," she soothed, rubbing the rabbit's forehead with her fingertip, before sprinkling medicinal powder over its wound.
The rabbit offered no resistance, remaining sprawled on her lap with its bead-like eyes open, allowing her to tend to it.
Seeing its obedient behavior, Yú Nántáng was slightly surprised. "Little guy, doesn't it hurt?"
Jiāng Zhǐ stood patiently to the side, waiting for her.
She seemed to be in a rather pleasant mood today, a subtle smile resting at the corner of her lips. She wore a gentle, cross-collared dress, her face devoid of rouge or powder, and her long hair wasn't styled into a complex high bun—nor were there any radiant gold pins adornments nestled in her hair. This was quite different from her usual self. Although the two had been bound as cultivation partners for over thirty years, one lived in the east while the other lived in the south, rarely meeting. Every time she saw him, she would be dressed in elaborate makeup and grand attire, as if only that suited her status. Yet in truth... heavy makeup and extravagant robes did not suit her at all.
On the contrary, her attire today reminded him of how she looked in his memories.
When she was first brought back to Chóngxū Gōng by Master, she was still young and filled with curiosity about everything. She loved to laugh, play, and chatter incessantly, with an endless stream of questions. Clearly possessing mediocre talent, she spent all day dreaming of flying to immortality and becoming strong—a bit arrogant, but not at all unpleasant, like a naive young girl harboring immense warmth for the world.
Yet ever since she bound herself to him, she had gradually turned sharp and defensive.
She always seemed desperate to prove something, but it was all in vain, only succeeding in ruining all her relationships.
Later on, she seemed to fall silent overnight, living isolated in Yúnchuān, coming and going alone without a single friend.
Xià Huái had said that the fact she developed inner demons was largely his fault. Binding themselves was his decision; since he made that choice, he should have treated her well.
Jiāng Zhǐ understood this too. In thirty years of partnership, he had yielded his own Yúnchuān to her, providing her with lavish cultivation conditions, yet he could never give her the one thing she wanted most.
To be bound as Dao partners was like being husband and wife in the mortal world—they should have been the two closest people alive. Yet he had a hurdle in his own heart that he could never cross.
In the brief moment Jiāng Zhǐ was lost in thought, Yú Nántáng had already finished bandaging the Spiritual-Ear Rabbit's wound. Raising her head to find Jiāng Zhǐ still standing there, she couldn't help but ask, "Shīxiōng, why are you still standing?"
Jiāng Zhǐ offered a word of thanks before smoothing his robes and sitting down on a stone chair below the lotus bed.
"Why thank me? This is your cave abode," Yú Nántáng said, gently pinching the rabbit's long ears.
Nobody understood better than her that behind this overly polite demeanor lay an insurmountable, eternal distance.
"Shīxiōng looks unwell. Did you damage your vitality?" Yú Nántáng noted Jiāng Zhǐ's weary expression and asked.
"It's no matter. I merely exhausted some of my true origin energy while healing Yíngxuě earlier..." Jiāng Zhǐ answered naturally, then paused abruptly. Fearing she might misunderstand, he took the initiative to explain, "Yíngxuě was severely injured by Chì Yōu, her life hanging in the balance. Your three senior brothers and I worked together to heal her. Wǔ Shīmèi, I was the one who took your Green Marrow Shoot (Qīngsuǐ Sǔn). My apologies. The Origin-Guiding Pill (Yǐnyuán Dān) that Xià Huái needed to refine for Yíngxuě happened to lack the Green Marrow Shoot as a key ingredient. Her injuries were critical at the time, and you couldn't wake up immediately, so I took it without asking."
With that, he stood up and cupped his hands in a sincere apology.
This apology was offered with genuine nobility.
Jiāng Zhǐ had always possessed the demeanor of a true gentleman.
In truth, Yú Nántáng wanted to ask him: did he really not know what the Green Marrow Shoot meant to her? Why didn't he ask if she had encountered any danger when she collapsed outside the sect gates? Why didn't he ask where the alarming blood on her body had come from?
But suddenly, she felt all these questions were utterly meaningless.
He cared far more about right and wrong than he did about her—just as he had decided to bind himself to her because he owed her a life. It had nothing to do with love; it was simply because he was indebted to her.
"Shīxiōng does not need to blame himself. I do not blame you," Yú Nántáng said calmly. "It's just that I will be entering seclusion to form my Golden Core (Jiīndān) in a few days. Shīxiōng knows my situation. Now that the Green Marrow Shoot is gone, I must find a replacement."
Her lack of outrage took Jiāng Zhǐ slightly aback.
He pondered for a moment before speaking up. "The Supreme Clarity Lotus (Tàiqīng Lián)."
Yú Nántáng's eyes widened sharply. "Is Shīxiōng referring to the Supreme Clarity Lotus from the Five Lotus Ruins (Wǔlián Xū)?"
"Indeed," Jiāng Zhǐ nodded. "In two months, the Five Lotus Ruins Martial Tournament will take place. One of the grand prizes is the Supreme Clarity Lotus. For you, its effects should be even superior to the Green Marrow Shoot. When the time comes, come with me, and I will win this Supreme Clarity Lotus for you."
The cold aloofness in his voice dispersed slightly, replaced by a touch of pride between his brows.
The Supreme Clarity Lotus was a spiritual treasure unique to the Five Lotus Ruins, blooming only once every five hundred years. It similarly possessed the effect of calming the mind and steeling one's focus, but its tier was several grades higher than the Green Marrow Shoot. With the Supreme Clarity Lotus in hand, her chances of successfully forming her Golden Core would be vastly higher. However, this Supreme Clarity Lotus was a spiritual treasure meant as a tribute to a Mountain Lord (Shānjūn), impossible for ordinary cultivators to obtain.
The Yùkūn Immortal Realm had its own established hierarchy. Three peaks formed one gate, its leader called a Sect Master (Zhǎngmén)—such as Chóngxū Gōng and Jiāng Zhǐ; three gates formed one mountain, its leader called a Mountain Lord (Shānjūn)—Yú Nántáng's master had stepped onto a mountain as a Mountain Lord when he left Chóngxū Gōng; three mountains formed one vein, its leader called a Vein Venerable (Màizūn)—for instance, the entire Miánlóng Mountain Range had only one Vein Venerable, though that was a position Yú Nántáng couldn't even dream of touching; three veins formed one sect, its ruler titled a Sect Sovereign (Zōngzhǔ), which was even more unattainable to her.
In Yùkūn, there was a saying of the Six Sects and Three Seas (Liù Zōng Sān Hǎi), representing the most orthodox immortal sects in the realm.
These immortal sects were typically supported from the bottom up, just as Chóngxū Gōng, along with several other sects, jointly offered tribute to the Mountain Lord of Floating Feather Mountain (Fúlíng Shān).
This Supreme Clarity Lotus was precisely a mountain tribute item, brought out only during the Five Lotus Ruins Martial Tournament as a grand prize for the tournament victor. And that person was usually the cultivator most likely to step onto a mountain and become a Mountain Lord.
In other words, if Jiāng Zhǐ could win, he would already possess the capability to become a Mountain Lord.
"Is Shīxiōng true to his word?" Yú Nántáng's eyes brightened dramatically.
Jiāng Zhǐ said solemnly, "I shall naturally do everything in my power."
"Then I thank Shīxiōng." Yú Nántáng didn't stand on ceremony any further.
"You are welcome," Jiāng Zhǐ nodded. Seeing her eyes bright and clear, he recalled Xià Huái's words: You are husband and wife. Even without romantic love, you shouldn't be so distant.
"Is this your new pet Spiritual-Ear Rabbit?" He drew closer to her and asked in a warm voice.
He remembered she used to love these little things, raising quite a few around her, though he didn't know why she had given them all away later.
"No, I just rescued it from Báiméi Peak (Báiméi Fēng)." As she spoke, she scratched the Spiritual-Ear Rabbit's chin, the soft, fluffy texture thoroughly pleasing.
Jiāng Zhǐ couldn't help reaching out his hand, wanting to pet the rabbit as well. Unexpectedly, the rabbit—which had been quiet all along—suddenly perked its long ears straight up. Baring its teeth at Jiāng Zhǐ's hand, it let out a sharp, shrill screech! With a fierce kick of its legs, it launched itself off Yú Nántáng's lap, stomped directly on her chest to scramble up her shoulder, and swiftly hid behind her back—its movements so fast that neither of them could react in time.
Yú Nántáng let out a muffled groan, clutching her right breast.
The little bastard's hind legs were insanely strong. That one stomp... hurt like crazy.
"Are you alright?" Jiāng Zhǐ asked hastily upon hearing her groan.
Yú Nántáng shook her head. "It's nothing."
"Wǔ Shīmèi..." Jiāng Zhǐ's gaze toward Yú Nántáng softened slightly.
He had the intention to express a bit more care, yet he didn't know where to begin.
Yú Nántáng, however, misconstrued his meaning. "If Shīxiōng has important matters to attend to, please go ahead. I won't see you out."
Though these words were essentially showing him the door, over the past thirty years, Jiāng Zhǐ never set foot in Yúnchuān unless absolutely necessary, arriving and leaving in a hurry every time. Yú Nántáng was long accustomed to it and offered her farewells without a second thought.
Jiāng Zhǐ's eyes returned to their usual calm as he stood up. "Then rest well. I will come see you another day."
Yú Nántáng was currently turning around to grab the rabbit, responding casually without looking back, "Safe travels, Shīxiōng."
When Jiāng Zhǐ reached the entrance of the hall and looked back, he saw that Yú Nántáng had already hoisted the rabbit up by its ears, using her fingers to knead its forehead and cheeks. Her feigned angry voice drifted over: "You dared kick me?!"
One person and one rabbit faced off, completely oblivious to anyone else.
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