I Seek the Path Through Flowers, Part 1

To say she scrambled off in a panic might be an exaggeration, but Yun Yao did awkwardly maneuver herself, stiff as a block of stone, from atop Mu Hanyuan to the innermost corner of the bed.

From a safer distance, she saw him more clearly.
Mu Hanyuan’s wrists were bound to the bedrail by the white silk, his silver lotus crown slightly askew, half-falling. His loose black hair cascaded like jade clouds woven outside the Heavenly Palace, contrasting with his snow-white robe, its jade belt tugged open, revealing a rare laziness unlike his usual pristine demeanor.
His eyes, framed by long lashes, carried a cold detachment untouched by mortal affairs.

Yun Yao dared not look further, turning away in despair. “If I said, whatever I just did… was because I was possessed, out of control, would you believe me?”

Mu Hanyuan, eyes closed, seemed not to hear.

She was at a loss for words.
—Fair enough, she wouldn’t believe it either.
Who gets possessed, strips someone, and still has the presence of mind to bind them with enchanted silk?

If she weren’t the culprit, she’d suspect premeditated mischief.

Silence spread like ice flowers on a lake.

Mortified, she prepared to flee, one hand reaching for the bed’s edge, when she heard a faint sigh.

“Master means you don’t remember what you did?”

“…Huh?” Yun Yao froze, half-crawling off the bed.

She truly didn’t remember a thing.
But that sounded like dodging responsibility.

“Then forget it,” Mu Hanyuan said calmly. “If Master is unharmed, please untie me.”

“Untie what…?”

She turned, seeing him shift his bound wrists.

“Oh, right.” She pivoted, working to undo the snow-white silk on the bedrail.

The silk shimmered with residual golden runes—reinforced, spirit-binding, wrapped three layers tight, as if ensuring no escape.
…Even possessed, her spellwork was impeccable.

The seals were complex, and even she struggled to unravel them. Fortunately, after this ordeal, many of her memories from three hundred years ago had returned, letting her confirm from the spell’s aura—
The seals were undeniably hers, no mistake.

So, abandoning her usual nonchalance, Yun Yao lowered her head further, meekly asking as she worked, “You… won’t ask anything else?”

“Master said it, so I believe.” Mu Hanyuan regained his usual ethereal composure, his voice devoid of emotion.

She was touched.
Was there ever such an understanding disciple?

As the final golden seal dissolved, he gently raised his hand, rubbing his reddened wrist, his tone still light. “After all, if you truly wanted to do something, no one could stop you.”

Yun Yao: “…”

Rarely feeling guilty, she wanted to crawl into the bed’s cracks. Opening her mouth to salvage her masterly dignity, she was interrupted—

“Senior Brother, are you in there?”

Chen Jianxue’s soft voice came through the thin door.

Yun Yao: “—?”

Why was Chen Jianxue here?
Wait, where was she? Was this actually Mu Hanyuan’s room?

Before she could process, his spiritual transmission reached her mind: “This is an inn a hundred li from Hidden Dragon Mountain, Master’s quarters.”
The voice paused, like frost settling on a sandalwood zither, cold and clear. “I know Master dislikes my transmissions, but circumstances forced it. Please forgive me.”

Yun Yao: “…”
Why did this feel like a subtle jab?

“Senior Brother?” Chen Jianxue’s puzzled voice rose again, accompanied by knocks, as if she might push the door open.

Mu Hanyuan turned toward the sound.

Yun Yao’s heart leapt, fearing he’d let Chen Jianxue in to witness this absurd scene—she’d have to die of shame to atone.

Imagining herself kneeling before Qianmen’s gate with a confession of guilt, she shuddered, lunging to cover his mouth, pinning him within the bed curtains—

Mu Hanyuan felt warmth against his lips.
His lashes trembled, and he froze.

Yun Yao didn’t notice anything amiss—his blindness meant he couldn’t see her signals, so she acted.

Holding him down to ensure silence, she turned, lowering her voice to a cough. “Jianxue, what’s up?”

Chen Jianxue paused. “Junior Sister’s awake?”

“Just woke up.”

“…Sorry to disturb. I came to find Senior Brother about something. I didn’t see him leave this inn. Is he still in your room?”

“He hasn’t been here, and I don’t know where he went!”
Under her hand, she turned back, explaining via transmission, “I’m just getting rid of her, you…”

The transmission cut off.

So close, with Mu Hanyuan slightly tilting his face, his half-open eyes and raven lashes gleamed like light through water.

The curtains cast ambiguous shadows, making his gaze unreadable.

Yun Yao didn’t even notice when Chen Jianxue left.

After a long pause, she found her voice. “You can see now?”
She instinctively released him.

He lowered his gaze, expression faint. “Yes.”

“Then why close your eyes?”

He didn’t answer.

She pondered the silence.

…Got it.
Her beastly actions under the demon seed’s influence must’ve been so shameful he couldn’t bear to look.

Yun Yao: “.”
She deserved death.

Skirting the topic, the guilty red-robed girl slipped off the bed, avoiding any contact with him while changing the subject. “This is an inn near Hidden Dragon Mountain?”

“Yes.”

“How did I get here?”

“Last night, after the nightmare mist cleared, I woke and brought you down the mountain.”

“Oh, you woke before me…”

Muttering guiltily, she paused while pulling on her boots, frowning. “The nightmare mist at Hidden Dragon Mountain cleared?”

Mu Hanyuan, no longer looking at her, nodded. “The mist near the mountain’s temple dispersed, but not outside, and it’s spread further.”

“The nightmare beast and its silk trap array were likely set by that ‘Faceless’ demon. His intentions aren’t good, and there may be others behind him. I wounded him heavily, but he escaped. Whoever set this won’t stop easily.”
She stepped into her boots, heading out. “Have Qianmen disciples wait at the inn. No one approaches Hidden Dragon Mountain without orders.”

“—Master.”

His voice stopped her from the bed.
After a pause, he added, “Your clothes are disheveled.”

She froze, looking down.

Only then did she realize her possession hadn’t spared her own robes, torn alongside his.

A glance revealed bare skin beneath her neck.

Yun Yao: “…”
Why hadn’t she perished with that Faceless dog at Hidden Dragon Mountain?

Expressionless, she cast an illusion to cover her dress, mumbled, and flashed out of the room.

In that fleeting moment, she realized why Mu Hanyuan kept his eyes closed.

“What a… saintly gentleman.”
Annoyed, she tapped the blood butterfly mark on her brow. “Why did this demon seed have to target him?”

Outside, she headed to the second-floor balcony overlooking the alley, scanning the inn with her divine sense while mulling over the possession incident.

From Mu Hanyuan’s memory orb, she guessed the original story’s tragedy likely stemmed from the demon seed. No one but her knew it was sealed in her, Qianmen’s grandmaster, uncontrollable, leading to the later catastrophe.
Good news: her immortal seal gave her a fighting chance against it.
Bad news: she seemed to be repeating history.

Recalling the original Yun Yao’s tragic end, she leaned against the railing, head aching.

“Boasting ‘don’t die before me,’ huh? …What a thought.”

Mocking herself, she gazed at the street below. “He didn’t die before you, true. But soon, you might die before him—without a trace left.”

Did Mu Hanyuan feel satisfaction then, or even a hint of regret?

But it was simple.
Without her stain, in the original story, he razed Qianmen, toppled the immortal realm, and became Qianyuan’s supreme demon lord.
The rest of his days must’ve been wildly unrestrained, living freely.

Yet she hadn’t learned, even in death, how to be a good master.

—

After the Hidden Dragon Mountain incident, Mu Hanyuan was gone for days seeking her, and the mountain’s “miasma” spread miles outward. Chen Jianxue, not daring to let disciples linger in the wild villages, retreated to this distant town.

Hidden Dragon Mountain was under Tianyin Sect’s jurisdiction in the immortal realm’s southwest, where dense mountains and forests bred toxic insects and beasts. Only Tianyin Sect, skilled in musical cultivation to control such unintelligent creatures, could endure here.

The area was sparsely populated, with only a few ancestral clans in small towns.

Yet Yun Yao’s divine sense revealed many non-locals in the town, with an unusually high number of cultivators.

“Surprising, right? I thought it odd too. Last time I saw so many rogue cultivators was…”

She turned to see Wu Tianya, rubbing his waist, ambling out, finishing, “…last time.”

“…”

Used to this “senior brother” from another sect’s lack of decorum, she greeted him and turned back.

She gazed at the bustling street. “The town’s been this crowded?”

“Yes, but not the same crowd,” Wu Tianya leaned on the railing. “One group leaves, another arrives, like locusts.”

Frowning, she sensed something off. “This remote place, without even a secret realm, why so many cultivators?”

“Maybe they’re here to aid Tianyin Sect?” Wu Tianya produced melon seeds, munching while watching the street.

Her lips curved thinly. “If so many kind souls came, Mu Hanyuan wouldn’t have needed to bring disciples here.”

“Oh, feeling for your senior brother already?”

“?”

She shot him a baffled look.

He straightened, turning back. “They’re drawn by profit, same as mortals. About ten days ago, the day after Hanyuan went to find you, a rumor spread in the immortal realm.”

“About Hidden Dragon Mountain?”

“Yes, claiming its persistent miasma, unyielding and spreading, is due to a world-shaking treasure about to emerge, granting instant ascension.”

Her expression blanked. “People believe that?”

“Of course.” He gestured to the street. “See? They’re flocking.”

She looked, asking earnestly, “Do dumber brains cultivate faster?”

“You weren’t so blunt before,” he chuckled. “What changed after Hidden Dragon Mountain?”

*Try living three hundred days three hundred years ago as another person, you’d change too.*
She sidestepped, “Not everyone in the realm is that gullible.”

He nodded. “Some are skeptical, but with others rushing in, the smart ones can’t sit still. What if a treasure exists, and fools grab it first? They’d dig up their ancestors’ graves to atone.”

She snorted a laugh.

“I thought you’d act like your saintly Hanyuan, ordering disciples to stop these reckless sects,” Wu Tianya said.

“Did I?”

“…No.”

“There you go. You can’t stop those seeking death. The more I block, the more they’ll think there’s a treasure, and if they survive, they’ll accuse me of hoarding it.”

He nodded. “Hanyuan understands but still tries to stop them.”

She said lightly, “He’s always been like that—pursuing the impossible.”

“Sounds like you’ve known him forever.”

“.”
She turned away, feigning ignorance. “Rogue cultivators seek their own gain, fine. Which sect is leading this rush?”

“The Immortal Alliance’s head, Fuyu Palace.”

“…”

Her lazy grip on the railing tightened, spiritual pressure surging.

In an instant, a chilling wind swept the inn’s second floor, making everyone shiver as if in deep autumn.

“Who’s there!”

Footsteps rushed from within the inn.

Wu Tianya, unmoving, glanced at the railing Yun Yao’s palm had marked. “Your issue with Fuyu Palace…”

Before he finished, “This is Qianmen’s inn. Who dares tamper with the array?!”
A group appeared, led by a figure flashing before Yun Yao.

Their eyes met, both pausing.

“Uncle-Master Yun!”

Behind the leader, Ding Xiao, a female disciple, exclaimed joyfully, “You’re awake?”
Others, saved by Yun Yao at Hidden Dragon Mountain, grudgingly or not, offered congratulations.
Except the leader.

After a moment, He Fengming’s face, cycling through countless expressions, settled into a stiff grimace. He looked away awkwardly. “Only someone as bold as Uncle-Master would stay at Hidden Dragon Mountain. Please consider your actions carefully, or… how will we explain to the sect?”

Yun Yao blinked, staring for two seconds, and asked sincerely, “Who are you?”

He Fengming: “?”
“…”

From his shocked, pale face, she guessed he was a step from fainting or raging.

Indeed, ten days ago at the mountain’s temple, his stunned look when she swapped him into the array with her star-shift technique was more endearing.

“Sorry, the nightmare silk dream showed me too many faces, and yours is forgettably common,” she said, grinning, patting his shoulder. “No offense.”

He froze, glancing at his shoulder, his disbelief growing weirder.

Ding Xiao, the sharpest, reacted quickly, tugging Yun Yao’s sleeve. “Don’t tease Senior Brother He! You didn’t see—after we were teleported out, he clung to Hanyuan’s leg, crying to save you—”
Her words were cut off by He Fengming’s spiritual seal, his face red. “Nonsense! Back to your post!”
He stormed off before Yun Yao’s gaze landed.

She shrugged, turning back, meeting Wu Tianya’s meaningful look.

“?” She tilted her head. “Something to say, Senior Brother?”

“Just curious how you did it.”

“Did what?”

“On this journey from Qianmen, He Fengming saw you as a rival to his beloved Junior Sister Chen Jianxue, always causing trouble. Yet after one trip to the mountain, you turned Qianmen’s biggest Chen Jianxue fan into your loyal ally, utterly devoted?”

“…”

She said gravely, “First, I treat people with sincerity and reason, never deceit. Second, you call *that* devotion? Senior Brother, got eye trouble?”

He nodded, muttering, “True, your charm’s always boundless.”

Yun Yao: “…?”

She thought he was joking, and Ding Xiao’s comment was casual, until evening—

While meditating to stabilize the seal, the inn shook from a clash of Nascent Soul-level spiritual energies.

Startled, she reached for *Naihe*—only to recall it was sealed at the Alliance’s Tianshan peak.

Fuyu Palace wasn’t trustworthy. Until she uncovered Mu Jiutian’s death, she had to purge the demon seed, restore her cultivation, and reclaim *Naihe*.

Before she could plan, Ding Xiao burst in, knocking urgently. “Uncle-Master, trouble! He Fengming’s fighting Fuyu Palace’s people—for you!!”

Yun Yao: “…”
Yun Yao: “?”

For *who*?!