Noon Dreams of a Thousand Mountains, A Shadowed Arrow Through the Window, Part 2

The endless night on Fuling Mountain finally passed.

Yun Yao stayed awake all night, playing melodies outside the cave. At dawn, the boy emerged, clad in a fresh robe.

“Good thing I thought you looked good in anything and bought extras, or you’d be wearing my skirt today,” Yun Yao said lazily, her back to him.

“…”

His first sight was the morning light bathing the mountain, where the weary red-robed woman stretched, her wrist stiff, her trailing hair shimmering with a dark gloss.
As she rose, seven or eight broken leaves fluttered from her skirt.

Gazing at them, the night’s soothing melody echoed in his ears.

Unlike her bold, languid beauty, it was gentle, like spring water calming the heart.

“You liked last night’s tune?” She narrowed her eyes, like a cat stretching in the sun, sharpness hidden in soft paws.

“I…”
Caught off guard, he nearly denied it but couldn’t lie.
His clear black eyes fixed on her.

A stark contrast to the demon of last night.

She laughed. “Much better this way.” She strolled over, naturally pinching his cheek. “I played all night for you—your life’s not enough payment. Come to the immortal realm with me. I’ve got a mess of duties no one handles. Once you’re grown, you can work for me.”

Her pinch left his cheek red, like water seeping into cold jade, cool yet captivating.
He stiffened, his long lashes trembling.

Stepping away, she glanced back at his lack of protest. “You washed your face with clear water in there?”

His step toward her froze.

“Such a kid… didn’t see you so vain before,” she teased, heading down the mountain. “Since you liked the tune, I’ll gift you a zither in the immortal realm. Study music, not fighting—it’s too dangerous.”

“…”

As her red figure blended into the green forest, he rubbed his flushed cheek, his face taut.
“Fine.”

His soft reply was whisked away by morning birds, lost in the Demon Realm’s myriad ravines.

The night’s delay and the overflow of spiritual energy drew trouble—attacks from Demon Realm cultivators tripled along the way.

Yun Yao could’ve escaped alone easily, but the boy, powerless outside his demon form, was the target of every strike, making it troublesome.
After playing music all night without rest, her spiritual energy waned, showing signs of depletion, leaving her at a disadvantage.

Fighting and retreating, by evening, battered and wounded, she was cornered by forces from at least two main cities at the northern edge of Two Realms Mountain—
Heaven’s Break Abyss.

The terrain matched its name: a sheer cliff, as if cleaved by divine force, splitting the Demon Realm’s highest southern peak.

At the cliff’s edge, a five-to-six-zhang stone jutted out, pointing toward Two Realms Mountain.

“See that? Past Two Realms Mountain is the immortal realm—way better than your barren deserts and snowy cliffs,” Yun Yao said, leaning on the stone’s tip, a April Snow tree’s branches, heavy with white blossoms, nearly brushing her shoulder.
The tree grew miraculously before the misty cliff, tall and radiant.

The boy paused, looking back. “They’re forming an array below.”

“Let them.”

“Once it’s complete, even your escape arts won’t get you out easily,” his voice was low and hoarse.

“Don’t worry,” she turned from the sea of clouds, her smile bright. “I won’t abandon you.”

He clenched his teeth, a rare flash of anger, stepping forward.

Before he could speak, she swung her legs, turning from the stone under the April Snow, resting her wrist on her knee, a wine gourd dangling. “Besides, I’m recovering.”

His rising anger stalled. “…You’re just drinking.”

“You don’t get it. I had an unreliable senior brother, always with his divination shell, pretending to be proper. He came up with this trick—refining spiritual energy into wine, cultivating while indulging—for his beloved.”
She sipped, her smile fading. “Pity, he never got to give it to her, and she never drank it. …No matter, as a junior sister, I’ll drink for them.”

“…”

His gaze wavered. He wanted to comfort her but couldn’t find words.

At the sky’s end, the last fiery clouds faded.

No moon tonight, only scattered stars, as if tossed carelessly by gods.

Yun Yao’s wine gourds lay empty in a row.
She shook the last one—nothing came out.

Flushed from drinking, she sighed, “All gone?”

Tossing the gourd, she scanned around, spotting the boy nearby.
Barely sixteen or seventeen, his flowing robes gave him an ethereal air.

Staring, she was caught by him—

He turned, his deep black eyes calm, as if ready to face death.
Only when meeting her gaze did something stir faintly.
His throat bobbed. “What?”

Staring, an irrepressible impulse struck her. “I’ll take you as my disciple.”

“…”

He stood amid night and clouds, his sleeves billowing in the dark wind, aloof and otherworldly.

She seemed to see his form three hundred years later, a youth and a man overlapping before the cliff.
Laughing, she raised her hand. “From tonight, you’re a second-generation disciple of Qianmen. Remember your master’s name—I’m Yun Yao, cloud of the nine heavens, swaying on the brink—your name?”

He paused, shaking his head. “I have no name.”

“Fair enough. In our sect, masters rename disciples, severing mortal ties.”
Drunk, her starry eyes gleamed.
She clapped lightly. “You’ll take the surname Mu.”

Her red robe fluttered, pointing at the cliff.

“—Mu Hanyuan.”

Her words fell, and a night breeze rose.
The April Snow’s branches swayed, petals falling like snow on her shoulders.

“From now on, Mu Hanyuan,” she turned, smiling radiantly, “trust me, not fate.”

He stared at her.

After a moment, he knelt before the stone—

“Mu Hanyuan, greets Master.”

“…”

No reply came.
Looking up, he saw the scarred red-robed woman leaning against the tree, lost in meditation.

The night passed like flowing clouds.

At the third hour, he lifted his lashes, glancing at the mountain path.

The Three Thousand Dragon-Trapping Array was complete, likely with Xuanwu City’s forces joining.
At her peak, Yun Yao might’ve fought, but after relentless pursuits, her unhealed wounds and strained organs meant a fatal battle here.

He glanced at the April Snow.

Naihe stood guard beside her.
Her breathing was unsteady, her spiritual flow unsettled.

How many wounds had she taken for him?
She likely didn’t keep count.

…She shouldn’t die in the Demon Realm.

He looked at her on the stone, as if etching this night, mountain, clouds, wind, tree, and her into his mind, hoping even as a senseless demon he’d never forget.

After a while, a disturbance below stirred the cliff’s clouds, snapping him back.

“…Pity, this is the last robe you bought me.”

He murmured, smoothing his sleeves, belt, and crown.
Without looking back, he walked down the only path.

—

Yun Yao woke to a thick stench of blood.
Her first instinct was to grab her sword, then glance at Naihe in her hand—
If danger reached the cliff, how could its spirit not warn her?

The sword, sensing her reproach, trembled aggrievedly, pointing downhill.

Her divine sense extended, and her face changed.

Two reasons:
First, Mu Hanyuan was gone.
Second, the terrifying demonic aura below resembled the boy’s demon form from last night’s sealed cave—but a million times fiercer, unchained, in harmony with the heavens.

She couldn’t stay a second longer.
Steadying her breath, she vanished.

Reappearing, she stood before the endless wilderness below Heaven’s Break Abyss.

The abyss bordered Two Realms Mountain, where only thorny, needle-leaved demon grass grew.

Now, the gray-green grass was purple-red, steeped in a blood sea.
Thorny blades hung with gore.
—The wilderness was a field of corpses.

Before the rising sun, a lone black figure stood amid the carnage, like ink against the red dawn.

It tore apart the last humanoid remnant, then turned slowly.

Far or near, Yun Yao met a pair of utterly irrational demon eyes.

In that instant, her only thought: This is the true “demon form.”

A demon to burn the world, charring all life.

The figure flashed before her.

A world-ending blood stench hit—
Under a savage, cold glare, the demon’s hand shot toward her throat.