The Bright Moon Was My Former Self, Part 1

In the demon realm, eighty miles west of Vermilion Bird City, a temporary “Lord’s Mansion” had been erected where Phoenix City once stood. Mu Hanyuan himself had chosen the site, located where a tributary of the demon realm’s longest river, the Erqing River, flowed into the city.

Tonight, the mansion’s gardens were ablaze with light, draped in colorful silks and festive red decorations.

In the rear courtyard, past a cluster of blooming trees, a winding path led to a five-ridged, four-sloped pavilion.

The pavilion had no walls, only carved railings and pillars for support. Between the railings and the surrounding trees and flowers hung countless layers of sheer, fluttering veils, swaying in the night breeze.

The flickering lamplight enhanced the misty, ethereal glow, with flower shadows dancing in the haze.

Inside the veils, in a hot spring pool shrouded in mist, Yun Yao lay draped over a smooth, warm bluestone, expressionlessly stirring the water.

Her wet black hair, sleek as ink, cascaded into the pool or clung to her snow-white curves.

The stark contrast of black and white, paired with the petals and water around her, painted a breathtakingly vivid scene.

The moment was perfect, with lotuses blooming vibrantly nearby, but Yun Yao had no heart to appreciate it.

The memory of Mu Hanyuan’s evil aspect’s actions on the white jade steps during the day was etched into her mind like a blade, impossible to forget.

At that moment, after forcibly kissing her, Yun Yao’s first instinct was to summon Naihe and cleave her rebellious disciple in two.
But, as if anticipating her reaction, Mu Hanyuan leaned closer, kissing her earlobe and whispering three chilling words:
*[Feng Qinglian.]*

Her sword aura froze midair.

Yun Yao was furious, but Mu Hanyuan, that smug bastard, seemed even angrier. He swept her into the palanquin, ordering her brought to this mansion. Lifting the palanquin’s beaded curtain, he gazed down at her, his eyes tinged with cold fury, the demonic mark at their corners vivid and bewitching.
*[After tonight, I’ll spare his life. If Master doesn’t want him to live, go ahead and try escaping my bridal chamber before I arrive.]*

“…Mu… Han… Yuan.”

Recalling his once-familiar, ethereal face twisted into that unpredictable, menacing smile, Yun Yao’s anger flared anew.

She’d grown too accustomed to the gentle Mu Hanyuan of this life, forgetting how utterly ruthless his evil aspect was in the past.

*Clink, clink.*

The breeze stirred the veils, their golden bells tinkling softly.

Yun Yao thought it was just the wind until an unfamiliar presence approached. Still draped over the bluestone, she glanced back expressionlessly.

It was the elderly woman from the day, now followed by two young maids carrying trays, their heads bowed low to their chests. They entered quietly, as if afraid to disturb her.

At a nearby jade table, the maids set down their trays.
Yun Yao’s gaze fell on the closest one—

Two golden cups, tied together with a red thread.

Her senses sharpened instantly. “What’s this?”

“Madam,” the elderly woman turned, smiling, “this is the nuptial wine, prepared on the Lord’s orders.”

“…”

Yun Yao’s mood soured, itching to curse someone out. But the culprit wasn’t here, so she propped her chin lazily and asked, “This morning I was the Lord’s master, at noon I was ‘my lady,’ and now I’m ‘madam’? Do people in the demon realm adapt this quickly?”

The elderly woman’s smile stiffened.

Even in the demon realm, someone as brazen as Mu Hanyuan, who disregarded all propriety and moral bounds, was unheard of.

And yet, Yun Yao had the misfortune of being saddled with such a disciple.
She gave a mocking scoff, turning her face away.

Perhaps due to her damaged immortal seal and rattled consciousness, Yun Yao had been unusually drowsy lately.

After speaking with the elderly woman, she dozed off on the bluestone, unaware.
It wasn’t until a faint scent, crisp as pine after snow, brushed her senses that she wrinkled her nose and slowly stirred awake.
Her eyes met not the pavilion’s glowing candles but a blurred, tall figure in the mist.

Half-asleep, half-dreaming, with mist swirling like clouds, Yun Yao couldn’t tell if this was a dream or reality. Instinctively, she raised her hand to “wave away” the dark shadow.

*Snap.*
Halfway through, her slender wrist was caught by fingers emerging from a dark robe, gripping her like a piece of snow.

But that snow, in Mu Hanyuan’s eyes, melted into a dim, shadowed hue.

His grip tightened, almost embedding into her flesh, rousing her from her haze with a faint sting.
Through the mist, she squinted, her gaze tracing the figure. “Mu… Hanyuan?”
Her voice was unguarded, drowsy.

“…”

He didn’t need to ask—he knew she’d mistaken him for his other self.

He hadn’t seen this expression of hers in years. For this fleeting moment, he felt that even pretending to be that compassionate, foolish version of himself to earn a shred of her affection might be worth it.

Lost in thought, Mu Hanyuan slowly knelt, his thick lashes lowering to hide the cold menace in his eyes.
Even his voice softened in the mist.

“Master.”

His fingers loosened slightly, revealing red marks on her wrist as it slid an inch in his palm. He enveloped her soft hand in his long fingers, turning it over and pressing a kiss to the back.
His lashes trembled faintly as they lowered.
“…I’ve missed you so much.”

Yun Yao froze in the pool.

A few breaths later, her expression shifted sharply, the haze clearing from her wet eyes, replaced by stark alertness.
Without hesitation, she yanked her hand back, pushing through the water to retreat.

“…”

Mu Hanyuan’s hand lingered empty, unmoving. After a long silence, he raised his eyes.
Dark clouds seemed to gather in his gaze, but his lips curved into a smile.

“Is Master too familiar with him, or with me, to tell us apart so easily?”

Yun Yao felt a burning sting where he’d kissed her hand, as if scorched. She hid it behind her back. “He would never act like you.”

“…”

Mu Hanyuan’s eyelids twitched.
In that second, his feigned smile shattered into a cold, ruthless blade in his eyes.

“He and I are one and the same!”

“That was once,” Yun Yao replied without hesitation. “He’ll never become you again. You know that, which is why you schemed so desperately before and why you don’t dare let him out now.”

“Dodging an inevitable fate—that’s his foolishness.” Mu Hanyuan’s gaze turned vicious, the hidden demonic mark at his eye seeping through his pale skin.
The mist deepened its hue, making him look like a fallen immortal turned vengeful demon.

He stepped up the submerged stone steps, approaching Yun Yao at the bluestone.

“Oh, I see,” he said, his voice low and bewitching. “You prefer the Mu Hanyuan of this life, who hides his true heart and nature, masquerading as a naive saint, don’t you?”

Yun Yao’s eyelids flickered.
She stared into the depths of his dark eyes, wondering if another soul, still slumbering, could hear her.
But she clenched her fist and said softly, “Yes, I prefer him. But it’s not him who’s dodging everything. In the tide of fate, submission takes no courage—defiance does. The true coward is you.”

“—”

Mu Hanyuan froze.
Uncontrollable demonic flames surged from his soaked robes, burning the rippling water around him into translucent, ferocious ghostfire, even underwater.

“What use is your preference? He can’t come back!”
He raised his hand, and the pearwood tray from the jade table flew toward them, the two cups of clear wine trembling. “The one marrying you, drinking this nuptial wine with you—it’s still me!”

“…”

Yun Yao closed her eyes in frustration.
She’d said so much, but he seemed to hear only the first sentence.

“What? Knowing he can’t return, Master won’t even open her eyes to look at me?”

His voice brushed her ear.
Yun Yao snapped her eyes open, startled to see him inches away, and moved to retreat—

He’d anticipated it, his hand dropping to her slender waist, pulling her back to him.

In the rippling spring, her thin inner robe was nearly transparent, making Yun Yao feel as if she stood bare before him.
The mist flushed her cheeks red.

“Mu Hanyuan,” she gritted out, “let go.”

His grip on her waist tightened, his silver-forged hair intertwining with her dark locks.
His lips, through the damp mist, nearly brushed her earlobe.
“And if I refuse?”

“You’re wasting your time,” Yun Yao turned her face, dodging his scorching breath. “I’ll never drink that nuptial wine with you.”

His breathing sank, then rose from a hopeless abyss with a hoarse laugh. “Has Master forgotten there’s still a life tied to your words and actions before this night ends?”

“Even for the nuptial wine, you’d threaten me with Feng Qinglian?”
Yun Yao glared, eyes red with anger. “That’s why I say you’re nothing compared to him. You’re the true coward.”

“…Yes, I am.” His gaze grew vicious, his voice hoarser as he leaned closer, gripping her neck as if to meld her into his very bones. “But do you know why, Yun Yao?”

She didn’t respond.

His evil aspect whispered at her ear, both hating and laughing. “Because he’s luckier than me—he’s never truly lost you!”

“…”

Yun Yao’s lashes trembled, a water droplet falling.
Like a tear, it landed on her collarbone, glimmering in the shallow pool there, crystalline and clear.

The light in Mu Hanyuan’s eyes dimmed.

He tightened his hold on her waist, leaning down.

“—You dare?”
Yun Yao, startled, raised her hand, pressing her wrist against his forehead, her face flushing redder. “Mu Hanyuan, I’m your master!”

“Oh, really?”
He laughed hoarsely, inching closer.
“If Master won’t drink the nuptial wine with me, and I’m parched… there’s a fine wine right here, sweet as nectar, that I must taste.”

“?”

Following his gaze, Yun Yao looked down at the water pooled in her collarbone.
Frozen for a few breaths, she trembled with rage. “…Fine, bring the nuptial wine. I’ll drink.”

His tone carried a hint of regret. “Giving in so soon? I was hoping Master would resist a bit more.”

Despite his words, the pearwood tray floated swiftly to their side through the spring water.

The red-tied golden cups rose into the air.
One flew to Mu Hanyuan, who took it, while the other, tethered by the red thread, hovered before Yun Yao.

She didn’t reach for it immediately.

Raising her hand, she opened her loosely cupped palm.
A tiny glass vial, two fingers wide, appeared between them.

Yun Yao paused, shaking it at Mu Hanyuan. “Do you know what this is?”

His eyes narrowed slightly.
After two breaths on the vial, he lifted his gaze to her face. “Little Ling gave this to you?”

“You recognize it, no wonder you wanted to kill her that day,” Yun Yao said, studying him. “Yes, this is the demon realm’s most sinister poison from the Venomous Demon Clan—Seven Days’ Spring. Colorless, odorless, indistinguishable from clear water. Even an Ascension Realm cultivator would die within seven days, their meridians shattered.”

“…”

Under his sharp, menacing gaze, Yun Yao’s lips curved faintly. “What, are you scared?”

“Scared of what?”

“If you’re not, then close your eyes.”

“…”

Staring at her for a moment, he chuckled softly. “Fine.”
He closed his eyes.

As he did, the smile faded from Yun Yao’s face.
She hesitated briefly, then flicked her finger—
The golden cup he held was nudged away, returning to hover between them, inches above the water.

*Plink.*
A sound like a water droplet falling into the cup.

“Open your eyes.”

“…”

Mu Hanyuan’s eyelids lifted slowly.
Between them, the two cups of clear wine—identical in form, color, and scent—glimmered with fractured light.

Above the water, Yun Yao raised her wrist, shaking the now-empty glass vial at him.

“Aren’t we sharing the nuptial wine?”

Leaning lazily against the bluestone, she brushed a strand of dark hair aside, her long, upturned eyes shimmering in the night’s watery glow, more intoxicating than any demon.

“Pick one. You drink, and I’ll drink with you.”

“…”

Mu Hanyuan stared at the cups, pausing. Then he laughed, a faint menace tinging his voice, making the demonic mark at his eyes more vivid, like a manjushaka blooming by the underworld river—bewitching yet deadly.

“If Master wants me dead…”

He reached for a cup, almost casually.
As his fingers touched it, Yun Yao, lounging as if half-asleep, twitched her eye faintly.
She seemed about to speak.

But before she could—

Without hesitation, Mu Hanyuan raised the cup and drained it in one gulp.

“No need for such trouble.”

“You…!”
Yun Yao tensed, rising from the bluestone, a mix of anger and shock flashing through her eyes.
“You really aren’t afraid to die.”

“Dying by Master’s hand would be a worthy end.”

He tilted the empty cup toward her, then gestured. “Your turn, Master.”

“…”

Her lashes trembled as she lowered her gaze, reaching for the other cup tethered by the red thread.
Before her fingers touched the cool metal—

“…Forget it.”

Mu Hanyuan’s eyes dropped.

Yun Yao froze, looking up, but before she could read his expression, he chuckled softly.
“Let’s die together.”

“?”

In that instant, as her eyes widened in panic, he snatched the second cup from her fingers and drank it down.

Yun Yao’s voice shook. “Mu Hanyuan!”

Gripping both cups together, he lowered his dark eyes and tossed them with a flick. With two soft *plunks*, they sank into the spring behind them.

Yun Yao’s gaze lingered on the ripples, then snapped back, furious and shocked. “You really don’t fear—”

Her words cut off.
The shadow of lamplight and mist loomed larger, enveloping her.

In that breath, she felt a faint sting on her lips. As she parted them in pain, her stifled murmur was swallowed by his fierce aura.

The man before her, radiating a sudden, sharp intensity, pinned her against the bluestone.

“Before I die…”
His forceful kiss grazed her tongue, his laughter fracturing into a bone-chilling tremor.
“Let’s consummate the marriage, Master.”