Side story

Feng Qinglian was so furious he nearly spat flames. “You, Yun Yao! You would actually do this for a mortal—”

“Clan Leader Feng, calm down, calm down,” Xiao Jiusi, being the closest, raised his folding fan to intercept him. He turned and leaned in toward Feng Qinglian’s shoulder, sending a voice transmission: “If you lose your temper like this and clash with Yun Yao, you’ll be playing right into that man’s hands.”

Feng Qinglian suppressed his rage, still standing stiffly as he glared at the two of them.

Clearly, one sentence wasn’t enough to quell his fire.

Xiao Jiusi continued to advise him in a low voice: “Look at her now. Yun Yao is shielding that mortal tightly. You know how protective she is. If Clan Leader Feng keeps making a scene, you’ll only be making things harder for yourself in Yun Yao’s eyes.”

“…Fine.”

Feng Qinglian squeezed those words out through gritted teeth. He flicked his multicolored feather robe and turned back to his seat. “It’s the Qianmen ceremony; I won’t lower myself to your level this time.”

Seeing that the “multicolored bird” had withdrawn his spiritual pressure, Yun Yao didn’t bother arguing further. She turned around and carefully checked Mu Hanyuan’s expression and aura.

Aside from a lingering paleness, he seemed normal.

But she still wasn’t at ease. As she sat down with Mu Hanyuan at the seat reserved for her, she asked with concern, “Did he hurt you anywhere just now?”

“Just a slight surge of energy,” Mu Hanyuan smiled and took her hand. “It’s nothing.”

“Hmph.”

Feng Qinglian gave a cold sneer from the adjacent seat. “Valley Master Xiao, how is it that the uncultivated mortals of your human race can’t even compare to a newborn fledgling of our Phoenix clan? Is this what the mortal world calls ‘lacking the strength to truss a chicken’?”

Yun Yao raised an eyebrow and turned to frown at Feng Qinglian.

Did this multicolored bird eat charcoal before coming out? Not only was his face dark and sullen, but every word he spoke seemed to carry sparks.

She was about to speak when she heard Mu Hanyuan beside her say warmly with a smile, “Clan Leader Feng’s cultivation is extraordinary. As a commoner, I can only sigh in admiration of my inferiority.”

“How do you know me?” Feng Qinglian looked over with furrowed brows, then thought of something and his expression softened slightly as he glanced at Yun Yao. “It seems you did mention me to him…”

“Clan Leader Feng misinterprets. A-Yao has never mentioned you.”

“?”

“A… Yao?”

Mu Jiutian, watching the fire from across the shore; Xiao Jiusi, weighing things in secret; and Feng Qinglian, who was directly in the line of fire—all of them almost simultaneously turned unfriendly gazes toward her.

The gazes of three parties converged on Yun Yao.

Yet Yun Yao didn’t notice them.

She was equally dazed as she looked back, meeting Mu Hanyuan’s lowered, smiling dark eyes.

This was the first time she had heard him use that name.

In the past, even in the most intimate moments in bed, when he was most moved, he would at most press against her temple—damp with a thin sweat—and kiss her earlobe while whispering “Yao Yao.”

Later, when the “clouds and rain” had cleared, Yun Yao would intentionally tease him, wanting to hear him call her that again. But Mu Hanyuan would flush red and turn his head away, pretending not to hear, refusing to say it again no matter what.

A-Yao…

Yun Yao repeated it in her heart, the corners of her lips curling up as she moved closer to Mu Hanyuan. “I like that name.”

The three at the neighboring table: “…”

Before Feng Qinglian could die of anger, Mu Jiutian let out a low cough to hide a smile and stood up.

Following the traditional customs, Mu Jiutian, in his capacity as Grand Elder and Sect Leader Mentor, addressed the gathered members of Qianmen in Qihua Hall. He led the sacrifice to heaven, and after returning to his seat, the banquet officially began.

The sacrifice to heaven and the ancestors was the most solemn process. Mu Hanyuan and the other two were considered outsiders, but Yun Yao had to stand and accompany Mu Jiutian to the center of Qihua Hall to perform the ritual.

By the time she finished and returned to the platform with Mu Jiutian, she was met with the sight of Feng Qinglian cross-examining Mu Hanyuan with a frown.

“…Yun Yao is the Little Senior Grandmaster of Qianmen, the foremost sword of the immortal sects who suppressed the Demon Realm for years. If you truly are just a mortal with no cultivation, how did you meet her, and how could she have taken a fancy to you?”

Feng Qinglian’s face was flushed. Looking at the wine cup held high in his hand as he spoke excitedly, it was clear he had already had several drinks.

Yun Yao stopped in her tracks, her eyes cold as she stared at him.

Mu Jiutian followed her with his sleeves tucked, stopping by her side with a smile. “The Phoenix seems to have had a few too many; his behavior is out of line. Don’t lower yourself to his level.”

Yun Yao gritted her teeth slightly. “Only for the sake of him having returned to deliver the news.”

“Deliver news?” This time it was Mu Jiutian who was bewildered. “What news?”

“You’ve forgotten even if I told you.”

“Hmm?”

Yun Yao didn’t have the patience to solve Mu Jiutian’s puzzles and stepped onto the long jade stairs leading to the platform.

The two lotus platforms were positioned high up, and the three people amidst the undercurrents above seemed not to notice her arrival.

Yun Yao walked slowly, hearing Mu Hanyuan’s refined voice, like a clear spring passing by:

“…I once trod the path of cultivation as well, but I suffered a deviation and lost all my power. I owe A-Yao several rescues from the brink of life and death; it is a debt I can never repay in this life. I can only ‘tie grass and carry rings’ to remain by her side as a constant companion.”

Yun Yao’s pace grew heavy. Her heart felt like soil that had just been rained upon—soft and damp.

Clearly, it was for her that he suppressed the power of the End and endured the calamity of the Heavenly Dao. Losing his cultivation was the lightest consequence; losing his senses and having zero chance of survival was the end he had originally foreseen.

Yet now, he spoke of it so lightly, as if it were his own fault.

Mu Hanyuan…

Yun Yao rubbed her cheeks, not wanting him to see her sorrow. Just as she was about to take another step up, the “multicolored bird’s” poisonous mouth opened again.

“Tie grass and carry rings? She is the Little Senior Grandmaster of Qianmen. Never mind within Qianmen, even in the entire Immortal Domain, she is one whose call is answered by ten thousand. Countless powerful figures would love nothing more than to serve her hand and foot. From the way you talk, it’s as if staying by her side is a burden to you?”

Feng Qinglian studied the white-clad figure with a cold smile.

“But as a useless person without even a shred of spiritual power, what right do you have to occupy a place by her side—”

“Feng Qinglian.”

A calm female voice—one whose tone could even be called peaceful—suddenly rang out from beneath the platform.

The cup in Feng Qinglian’s hand froze.

Even Xiao Jiusi’s eyelids twitched as he sat up straight with an air of solemnity.

Hidden amidst the intricate patterns on the floor, a very faint layer of frost climbed up the jade steps, spreading toward the seats where Feng Qinglian and the others sat.

Feng Qinglian looked a bit flustered for a rare moment. He set down his cup and looked toward the base of the platform where the voice came from.

A figure in red was walking up the steps, her face as cold as frost.

She’s truly angry.

The other four people on and off the platform thought this in unison.

Feng Qinglian’s elegant face darkened slightly. He frowned and stood up to explain: “I wasn’t targeting you…”

“Targeting him,” Yun Yao said coldly, cutting him off, “is targeting me.”

Feng Qinglian had always had a poisonous tongue. Yun Yao had been his friend for years and knew this best. The two had shared countless jokes since childhood, but in Feng Qinglian’s memory, this was the first time—

The first time Yun Yao had become truly angry because of his words, wearing such an icy expression.

It was as stinging as a needle made of ice.

Feng Qinglian’s face also turned sour. “Yun Yao, how many years have we known each other? I only said a few words about him. Are you going to break off our friendship over an unknown nobody—”

“Ahem.”

Mu Jiutian let out a cough to suppress the words.

Xiao Jiusi had also stood up at some point, pressing his folding fan down in front of Feng Qinglian.

If certain words were spoken, there would be no turning back.

Feng Qinglian snapped back to his senses in an instant, standing there with a sour expression.

“He is not an ‘unknown nobody’.”

In this subtle silence, Yun Yao suddenly spoke.

The gazes of the four on the platform fell upon her.

Even the elders and disciples of Qianmen in Qihua Hall below seemed to sense something, looking up one after another.

Yun Yao stepped onto the final jade stair. Without looking at anyone else, she walked straight to her seat and stopped beside Mu Hanyuan.

Mu Hanyuan stood up, a rare ripple appearing in his eyes. “A-Yao? You don’t need to be this angry. You know I don’t care what he says…”

“But I care.”

Yun Yao looked up at him.

Only now did Mu Hanyuan realize with shock that Yun Yao’s eyes were slightly red, as if her emotions were surging uncontrollably.

“I care about who you are. I care about what others say of you. I care that I am the only person who knows what you sacrificed for them, for everyone. I care that you did so much yet were forgotten by everyone. I care so much that I always feel wronged on your behalf. The Heavenly Dao clearly should have punished me; what right does it have to make things difficult for you…”

Yun Yao’s voice choked on the last sentence.

Mu Hanyuan couldn’t help but step forward, raising his hand to brush away the tear that had gathered at the corner of her eye and was about to fall.

“…Alright.”

He seemed to say it with a helpless smile, though there was a hint of a suppressed tremor in his voice.

Mu Hanyuan wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes. He wanted to pull her into his embrace right then and there, but ultimately he was mindful of the many Qianmen disciples in Qihua Hall. He didn’t want her, the Little Senior Grandmaster, to be a spectacle before them.

Mu Hanyuan leaned down slightly and coaxed her in a low voice:

“I can’t just casually get intimate with our Little Senior Grandmaster in a place like this, so please don’t cry, okay?”

“No,” Yun Yao said decisively.

Mu Hanyuan blinked, appearing momentarily stunned.

Before he could react further, Yun Yao suddenly stepped forward and grabbed his wrist. She turned around, leading him to face the elders and disciples below the platform who were waiting with bated breath.

“Taking the opportunity of this ceremony, there is someone I would like to introduce to you all.”

Yun Yao took a light breath and raised her voice:

“His name is Mu Hanyuan. He is my Daoist companion, and the only person who will accompany me, Yun Yao, throughout this life and eternity.”

—!

The platform and the hall fell into an instant, deathly silence.

Following the four people’s looks of disbelief were the murmurs of surprise and shock from the Qianmen members below.

Yun Yao turned her head, looking at Feng Qinglian who was frozen in place. She spoke every word clearly: “Mu Hanyuan is Mu Hanyuan; he is no unknown nobody. Never mind that he has the talent of a Saint and is unparalleled in this generation—even if he truly were a mortal for a lifetime, I would still offer my life to him, never regretting until our hair turns white.”