Once a Graceful Swan Cast Its Shadow, Part 3

Outside Vermilion Bird City

News of Qinglong City sending both a surrender letter and a “marriage alliance” princess had drawn half the city’s residents to the streets, eager for the spectacle.

“When did Qinglong City change its lord? How come we’ve never heard of this?”

“Qinglong’s leadership has always been hereditary—probably an internal clan decision. But this princess they’ve sent, she’s truly a vision of divine beauty. Qinglong’s lost both their pride and their troops this time—a heavy price!”

“Will the White Tiger City Lord really accept this princess?”

“Why wouldn’t he? A beauty like that, most would be scrambling to wed her. Who’d push away such a gift?”

“You’re oversimplifying it. Don’t forget, the princess came with the surrender letter. Qinglong’s intent is clear—”

“Accept both or reject both.”

In the main hall of the Vermilion Bird City Lord’s mansion, the Vermilion Bird Guard’s Right Envoy sneered. “Qinglong’s playing both coercion and temptation.

Do they really think our lord, commanding the White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise forces, wouldn’t dare face them in another battle?”

Angry voices erupted from the seats below. “I say we kill the Qinglong envoys and the princess to make an example and wipe them out!”
“Exactly! Teach them a lesson!”
“It’s what they deserve for their sneak attack on Two儀 City!”
“I second that!”
“…”

“Enough.”

A clear, heavy voice from the main seat silenced the hall’s murmurs.
The crowd snapped to attention, turning and bowing slightly to the central figure, signaling their obedience.

“From today, the three divisions will remain in place and refrain from rash actions. No more bloodshed in the demon realm.”
Mu Hanyuan rose, heading outside.
“Accept the surrender letter for peace. As for the princess from Qinglong City, the City Lord will arrange her stay in the mansion for now.”

“What?”
The Vermilion Bird City Lord blinked, stunned that the responsibility had fallen to him. But before he could speak, the figure vanished from the hall.

Moments later.

Yun Yao stepped into the courtyard where she was staying, her expression grave.

Since learning that Yu Yan, posing as “Li Wuhuan,” had abducted Chen Jianxue, Yun Yao had suspected Chen Jianxue’s past life—her innate spirit body, cursed by a true dragon’s affliction, was now clearly tied to Princess Changyong.

But Yun Yao distinctly remembered several Qianmen disciples saying Chen Jianxue was near death when taken from Qianmen.
Even if Yu Yan had stolen a phoenix gall to extend her life, how could he confidently send her here?

“…Still haven’t figured it out?”

A voice broke through from nearby.

Yun Yao looked up, meeting Feng Qinglian’s cold, arms-crossed silhouette under a tree. His mocking gaze raked over her. “If you’d let go of your feelings and hopes for Mu Hanyuan, the situation would be crystal clear.”

“Speak. I’m listening.”

Yun Yao’s calm was a simmering undercurrent, unnerving even Feng Qinglian.

He lowered his arms. “From the moment the White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise forces gathered before Tianyun Abyss, the plan to sacrifice ten thousand soul fires to revive the old Demon Sovereign Hall was already in this so-called demon realm sovereign’s grasp. If he wasn’t trying to please you, he might’ve ignored the surrenders, letting all ten thousand Black Tortoise elites perish at Tianyun Abyss to reopen the Hall.”

“…” Yun Yao’s eyes wavered.

That day in the bath chamber, Mu Hanyuan’s cold command echoed in her mind.

*[The White Tiger Division never accepts surrenders.]*
*[Kill them all and bury them in Tianyun Abyss.]*

Was that Mu Hanyuan’s—or rather, the Mu Hanyuan consumed by his demonic heart’s—original plan?

“If that plan failed, he had a backup.”

Feng Qinglian sneered. “That’s the current situation. I don’t know what grand promises your dear disciple made to Qinglong, but he arranged for them to strike while the Vermilion Bird and Black Tortoise forces were still reorganizing, catching them off-guard. The result? Another ten thousand soul fires lost at Tianyun Abyss. And now, he can smoothly claim the title of demon realm sovereign.”

“And sending Chen Jianxue as Qinglong’s princess to marry into the Demon Sovereign Hall? You know Mu Jiutian, Chen Qingmu, Xiao Jiusi, and the immortal sects behind them will never allow a demon lord to act so brazenly. The demon sovereign and Chen Jianxue are bait to spark a war between the realms!”

“He wants chaos and destruction. Don’t you see it?”

“…”

Yun Yao listened in silence, offering no response.

Feng Qinglian softened his expression. “This is my last warning. If you still cling to the belief he’s innocent—”

“Thank you. You’ve reminded me.”

Feng Qinglian froze.

“No, he didn’t lie to me,” Yun Yao said, looking up before his anger could fully surface. “Haven’t you noticed something strange about all this?”

His anger paused, confusion flickering. “What?”

“With the power to take all four main cities in one fell swoop, why drag it out for nearly a year, going through such convoluted lengths…?”

Seeing Feng Qinglian’s expression shift, Yun Yao gave her first faint smile since arriving.

“He trusts no one—not even himself.”
She continued, “You said he’s trying to please me, but that’s not quite right. He prepared a second plan, not to win me over, but to guard against *himself*.”

Feng Qinglian’s eyes darkened. “What do you mean?”

“What if… there are two Mu Hanyuans?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, as if fearing the words would shatter the world.

“Impossible! If you’re defending him, at least pick a sensible excuse!”

Feng Qinglian’s angry shout faded as his expression stiffened.
Because he realized Yun Yao’s absurd theory might be the only explanation for the bizarre, circuitous tactics—the missing piece in the puzzle.
Everything felt off unless Mu Hanyuan was guarding against a “closest” version of himself, one who knew his every move yet was his polar opposite.

“You see, you think I’m right.”

Yun Yao knew Feng Qinglian well enough to read his complex emotions in a glance.
Having someone else acknowledge this wild idea somehow lightened her burden.

Feng Qinglian’s cheek twitched as he growled, “If you’re right, and Mu Hanyuan has a good and evil duality, with his evil side conspiring with Yu Yan, why didn’t his good side say so earlier?”

“What if his good side doesn’t know?”

“How could that be? You just said they know each other’s—”
Feng Qinglian stopped himself.
After a few breaths, he gritted his teeth. “Yu… Yan.”

“Exactly. Don’t forget the true dragon majesty, unmatched in soul manipulation.”

Yun Yao narrowed her eyes, gazing at the pavilion nearby.
“In soul-concealing techniques, even the immortal realm might struggle to match him.”

In the pavilion, fallen petals reformed on the ground, flying back to branches. Autumn’s withered boughs shed their decay, sprouting green leaves.
The season reversed, as if time itself turned back.

—

**Three Months Ago, Under the Pavilion**

The zither’s notes wove through summer’s insect hum, flowing into the flower-laden night. A lone white-robed, snow-haired zither master sat at a stone table, his solitary shadow cast on the ground, playing under the moonlight.

Until a faint sound, quieter than the insects, reached his ears from the darkness.

Without lifting his eyes, Mu Hanyuan spoke. “Since you’re here, why not show yourself?”
“…”
After a long silence, a figure emerged from the foliage.

“No need to worry. There’s no ambush—just me.” Mu Hanyuan didn’t turn, seemingly unbothered by the figure’s menacing aura and killing intent.

Yu Yan approached the pavilion, standing before the white-robed zither master.
His gaze flickered, adjusting to Mu Hanyuan’s snow-white hair and the blood-red demonic mark trailing from his eye after removing the bronze mask. “The immortal realm’s rumors are true. You’ve indeed fallen to demonic ways.”

“Fallen?” Mu Hanyuan gave a chilling laugh, his fingers pausing on the zither strings. “I was born the world’s greatest demon. What ‘falling’ is there?”

Yu Yan had no interest in the deeper meaning of his words.
He had one purpose tonight.

“Your letter claimed that, unlike the phoenix gall’s temporary life extension, you could truly save her,” Yu Yan said, staring intently. “Is that true? Even fallen to demonic ways, how could you wield the power to defy death?”

“I know of an artifact capable of reversing time itself. A mere life is nothing to it.”

Yu Yan’s face twisted. “You’re toying with me? No such artifact exists in the mortal realm—”

Mu Hanyuan chuckled softly, pressing the strings silent.
He looked up. “Before coming here, you already cast your soul technique as I instructed. Do you think it affected me?”

Yu Yan’s expression shifted, as if struck by a realization. “Are you truly Mu Hanyuan?”

“Who else would I be?”

“I may not be able to manipulate your soul, but I can sense another soul in your sea of consciousness! If I’m not mistaken, *that* is the real Mu Hanyuan,” Yu Yan said gravely. “Who are you?”

“He’s Mu Hanyuan, and so am I.”

“Nonsense! You know I’m skilled in soul techniques, so you should know I can detect the subtleties in your soul. Do you take me for some ignorant mortal who’s never seen the immortal sects?”
Yu Yan’s eyes twitched, wary. “Your soul bears the mark of heavenly punishment—a brand only those who defy the heavens, breaking through to the immortal realm without permission, carry. Even reincarnation can’t erase it.”

“So what?”

“If you’re also Mu Hanyuan, why doesn’t *his* soul bear the mark, but yours does?”

“Because…”
Mu Hanyuan, fingers resting on the zither, raised his eyes with a low laugh.
“I’m the future him.”

—

“…Pfft.”

Under the crushing force of immortal power, gold and red surged at Yun Yao’s brow, the soul’s impact tearing through her consciousness like a storm.
Unable to hold back, she spat blood onto the flower-strewn earth.

Feng Qinglian’s face paled. “Yun Yao, what are you doing?!”
He rushed to help, but she, kneeling, snapped her head up, blood seeping from her eyes, her expression near-horrified.
A pale hand shot up, blocking him.
An invisible barrier separated them, pulsing with the terrifying power of divine retribution, a chasm between immortal and mortal.

Faint, furious thunder rumbled beyond the heavens, as if the sky itself raged against Yun Yao’s defiance of using immortal arts in the mortal realm.

She stared unyieldingly at the pavilion.

Ignoring the divine retribution’s pressure, an unseen force twisted the images and sounds she perceived.

“…Very well. As long as you can do it, I’ll follow your letter’s terms…”

Yu Yan’s figure wavered like a reflection in water.
Before vanishing into the night, he turned, asking Mu Hanyuan something.
“Since you can even… why go to such lengths…?”

Yun Yao gritted her teeth, enduring the divine retribution, and glared at the blurred, white-robed, snow-haired figure.

The figure played the zither, laughing softly.
The laugh carried a chilling, terrifying malice.

“…Because, like you, I want both humans and demons of Qianmen annihilated…”
“…Qianmen is a forsaken land…”
“…Only here can I completely destroy one person—no, one divine lord.”

“—!”

*Boom.*
A furious thunderbolt seemed to crash into her consciousness.

Unable to withstand the divine retribution’s terrifying force, Yun Yao’s vision darkened, and she collapsed.

Before the last shred of light faded, as she fell, she dimly saw a figure, tinged with anger, step from the moonlight at the courtyard gate.

In her haze, she glimpsed snow-white hair trailing behind him.