The Unbreakable Resolve of a Scapegoat

Her lips twisted into an uncontrollable, upward curve, a crescent moon hanging high in the night sky.

The emotions in her chest, long suppressed, burst forth in unbridled laughter.

Her laughter was wild and unrestrained, yet beneath it, a furious rage surged.

Like a raging flood, anger swept away her reason, carrying countless memories in its tumultuous current.

Having lived for centuries, the faces of many people had long blurred in her memory; even her own mother’s features had slowly begun to fade.

Only one person remained vivid.

He was unkempt, his eyes like those of a dead fish, seemingly devoid of life, carrying an air of slovenliness. As a father, he lacked the robust physique of others, and his strength was merely average.

She often wondered why a woman as beautiful as her mother would ever marry such a man.

He would always boast of his unmatched bravery, claiming he could take on ten men and send enemies fleeing in terror, his eyes only sparkling with life when recounting these tales.

He always spoke of protecting them, mother and daughter, assuring them that with him around, no one could ever harm them.

He would thump his chest, producing a ‘thump-thump’ sound to demonstrate his supposed sturdiness, yet he invariably devolved into a fit of violent coughing after only a few pats.

The young Mu Qingli couldn’t comprehend how a man like him could possibly protect her and her mother.

The man’s answer was simple: because he loved them, he would stake his life; unless he died, no one would harm them.

Indeed.

Love.

Mu Qingli seemed to understand, yet at the same time, she didn’t.

She didn’t quite grasp what love was, but it felt as though this ‘love’ existed; even though her family was constantly moving, never settling in one place for long before having to leave, and never truly belonging anywhere, as long as her parents were by her side, she believed that in this vast world, there would ultimately be a small corner that was truly theirs.

She would not be afraid.

Even the night seemed to grow kinder, merely veiled by a thin shroud.

Yet, Mu Qingli later came to understand that a man’s promises were like a flickering candle in the wind, easily extinguished by a passing breeze.

He always claimed how valiant he was, how he could single-handedly defeat countless foes, and how enemies would flee in disarray at his mere sight.

What was the outcome?

When true danger struck, when a life-or-death choice presented itself, he abandoned his wife and daughter to save his own skin, fleeing in a panic by himself.

Afterwards, it took Mu Qingli a very, very long time to recall that the man who fled was, in fact, her father.

Those eyes, once filled with affection, had turned cold and selfish; his feet, as if winged by the wind, were solely focused on escaping danger, never once glancing back at the family he had forsaken.

He left behind only the abandoned women and children, weeping in despair and terror, their once beautiful family dissolving into nothingness at that very moment.

Alas, only Mu Qingli’s illusion shattered. Her mother lay on the ground, blood slowly spreading from beneath her body, like a blooming red lotus, tragically beautiful and utterly desperate.

Yet, her mother’s eyes still gazed into the distance, filled with a lingering yearning and hope for the cowardly man she loved to return and save their home.

That gaze, brimming with trust and affection, gradually faded, until it became utterly dim and lifeless.

Had her Master not chanced upon that path, Mu Qingli too would have perished there.

She would never forget that day; her Master was like a beacon, illuminating her dark world.

Her Master led her into the sect, and that sect gate felt like a portal to a new life.

Within the sect, she found a new home; her fellow disciples were like a new family. Her Master painstakingly raised her to adulthood, treating her as if she were her own daughter.

Her Master patiently taught her immortal arts; every move, every stance, was a skill for survival, enabling her to protect herself in this cruel world.

Her Master took the place of a parent, becoming the most steadfast pillar of support in her heart.

Yet, in the end, her Master also died because of a man.

It was an accident, a tragedy sparked by a man’s selfishness and cowardice. Her Master’s departure felt as though the sky had fallen, utterly shattering the last vestige of trust Mu Qingli held for men.

Now, everyone in the world knew how unreliable men truly were.

‘Love,’ as spoken by men? It was nothing more than a lie to deceive everyone.

Confronted with Lin Mo’s declaration of ‘love,’ not a single ripple of emotion stirred in Mu Qingli’s heart.

Mu Qingli felt only rage, an endless, boundless fury.

That rage was like a blazing inferno, burning fiercely in her chest, searing her very soul.

Her hands clenched into tight fists, nails digging deep into her palms, yet she felt no pain, for the anger in her heart had long drowned out everything else.

‘Kill him.’ This thought, like a vine sprouting in the darkness, wildly spread through Mu Qingli’s mind.

‘Kill this arrogant fool!’

The voice echoed incessantly in her ears, a whisper seemingly from the deepest part of her heart.

Through the gaps in her flowing hair, her golden eyes fixed relentlessly on Lin Mo.

Those golden eyes blazed like fiery infernos, filled with rage and hatred, resembling deep vortices poised to drag Lin Mo’s soul into their depths.

Her gaze was almost tangible, like two sharp swords, piercing directly towards Lin Mo, as if to bore two bloody holes through his body.

Spiritual energy gathered in her hand, shimmering with a cold, eerie light, like winter icicles.

Step by step, she advanced towards Lin Mo.

“By the way, Master,” Lin Mo said, his body having mostly recovered, as he sat up. “Are we continuing with etiquette lessons, or is it time for cultivation?”

Lin Mo’s voice jolted Mu Qingli from her near-obsessive state.

She dispersed the spiritual energy in her hand, readjusting her emotions.

She knew she had once again been swayed by her inner demons.

Without hesitation, she activated the Bright Jade Profound Yin to force herself to calm down, yet the anger in her heart remained undispelled.

She still yearned to kill the presumptuous Lin Mo, but he was far too important.

Too many of her goals hinged on Lin Mo’s presence.

She could only take a deep breath, striving to rein in her emotions.

Her Master’s dying wish was paramount.

“Get up. Cultivate,” Mu Qingli uttered, the words forced out with difficulty.

“Huh? Oh.”

Lin Mo didn’t make a fuss; he obediently sat up and began cultivating the Bright Jade Profound Yin. Though his body hadn’t fully recovered, at least he was no longer at death’s door.

Gazing at Lin Mo’s pale face, still lacking full strength, Mu Qingli’s lips curved into a cold smile, devoid of any warmth, like the biting wind across an ice-covered plain.

She had conceived an excellent method, one that would expose a man’s true nature without resorting to murder.

It could also weaken Lin Mo’s disgusting muscles, making him appear more feminine.

At the brink of life and death, people often reveal their true selves.

If she subjected Lin Mo to enough peril, pushing him beyond his limits, this man’s true nature would be undeniable.

She firmly believed that by doing so, this man would expose his true colors, thereby proving her long-held conviction about men to be correct.

In her world, all men were despicable wretches, full of empty words, treacherous and deceitful scoundrels; they possessed no love!

Thus, for the next month, Mu Qingli imposed an extremely high-pressure cultivation regimen.

She acted as a supervisor so strict she was almost cruel, demanding that Lin Mo not only learn feminine etiquette, but also that volume after volume of weighty etiquette classics were tossed before him, like insurmountable mountains.

Lin Mo had to spend a significant amount of time each day reciting and memorizing them, and at the slightest error, Mu Qingli’s spiritual energy, transformed into a long whip, would lash across his body.

At the same time, he had to constantly circulate his cultivation technique, even during sleep.

Nighttime should have been for rest, but Lin Mo couldn’t sleep; he had to continuously circulate his cultivation technique until it became so ingrained that he did it subconsciously, like breathing.

Every time exhaustion made him want to stop, Mu Qingli’s scolding voice would thunder in his ears, followed by a barrage of blows and curses.

Her palm, imbued with residual spiritual power, inflicted unbearable pain with every strike on Lin Mo, yet he dared not resist in the slightest.

Hungry and thirsty, he subsisted solely on Zhao Qiubai’s elixirs to sustain his life, never experiencing the sensation of fullness.

When drowsy, he also relied on elixirs to forcibly awaken his mind; the brief invigoration brought by these pills came with intense side effects, leaving both his body and spirit in a state of extreme exhaustion yet unable to truly rest.

Lin Mo’s body grew thinner day by day, his eyes weary and bloodshot.

‘This is a test.’

Lin Mo knew this clearly.

Although he didn’t know what nerve the word ‘love’ had struck in Mu Qingli to provoke such fury, Lin Mo knew this was likely the test.

A test of whether his ‘love’ was genuine.

‘Here… I must endure.’

Mu Qingli would never kill him; she would only torment him, wearing down his will.

If he were proven a liar, he would never regain Mu Qingli’s trust, nor would he ever get another chance to escape.

What awaited him next would be endless surveillance.

‘My future hinges on this moment!’

Yet—

It sounded good in theory, but in practice, it was an entirely different matter.

Hunger gnawed at his nerves like maggots embedded in bone, while exhaustion crushed his spirit like a millstone, his emaciated body twisted like a tightened noose.

Countless times he yearned to fall to his knees and surrender, to cling to Mu Qingli’s leg and beg for her mercy.

Whenever Ancestor Zhao Qiubai came to visit, subtly hinting with eager eyes to help him escape, he longed to accept immediately, to break free from this living hell.

‘What if Zhao Qiubai knew I was a man, and still wouldn’t kill me?’

‘What if Zhao Qiubai wasn’t as cruel as Mu Qingli?’

‘What if—’

‘No, I mustn’t waver.’

‘I mustn’t falter.’

‘I absolutely cannot taint my resolve.’

This was not just for his plan, but for his dignity.

Qiu Yue would kill him, so he could cast aside his self-respect.

But Mu Qingli wouldn’t, so there was no need for him to abandon his dignity.

She also needed him.

He was tired of the world’s slander against men, tired of these stereotypes. Before, he had neither the opportunity nor the strength to prove them wrong, but now, wasn’t this his chance?

Lin Mo had no other special talent than endurance; he could tough it out!

To survive, to escape, Lin Mo would exert all his strength to portray the person others wanted to see.

In front of Qiu Yue, he was a humble and loyal servant.

And before Mu Qingli, he would be a resilient, loyal, and unyielding disciple, preferring death over submission!

He currently lacked the strength to resist, so he had to endure.

He needed to accumulate power.

As long as he endured this trial, earned Mu Qingli’s trust, learned all her skills, and achieved cultivation success, he would sooner or later become his own master!

‘Endure.’

‘A moment’s impatience can ruin a great plan.’

Lin Mo remained steadfast, cultivating, suffering, persevering, the light in his eyes never dimming even slightly.

His spirit, too, gradually grew more resilient.

He didn’t know how much longer it would last; if it meant enduring until death, then so be it.

This was currently the only way he could resist.

Little did he know, Mu Qingli was currently filled with utter astonishment!

Because she had discovered that Lin Mo… had actually developed divine sense during the Qi Condensation stage?!

This was impossible! How could someone who hadn’t even fully passed the Mortal Transformation stage develop divine sense so far ahead of schedule?

It was known that the earlier divine sense was developed, the better, as mental strength was the most difficult to cultivate; the later one started, the harder it became.

But developing it earlier was several times more difficult!

Of course, the development of divine sense was also related to one’s personal qualities. The more resilient one’s mental strength, the earlier it could be developed.

To draw a comparison, it was akin to being able to endure lying motionless in one spot for decades without breaking down.

‘He’s different…’

‘This is not like the men I know!’

‘Men aren’t like this!’

Mu Qingli’s heart continuously surged, tormented by pain and guilt.

Her anger had nothing to do with Lin Mo, yet she… had still unleashed it upon him.

Yet deep down, she always felt that if she just held on a little longer, Lin Mo would expose his true colors, proving how correct her assumptions were!

Yet…

Lin Mo still hadn’t shown any weakness.

No matter how she asked, Lin Mo’s answer remained the same: “Because I love you.”

‘Why?’

Mu Qingli couldn’t understand why Lin Mo still hadn’t revealed his true nature?!

‘Men aren’t like this!’

Mu Qingli trembled all over, biting her lip tightly. What man wouldn’t run away?

What man would stay by her side after being treated this way?

‘Still staying?’

‘You’re going to die!’

‘Don’t you know you’re going to die!’

‘You’ll die!’

‘Run!’

‘Run like other men!’

Mu Qingli gazed at Lin Mo’s pale, bloodless face, completely unaware that she had bitten her own lips until a trace of crimson appeared.

She couldn’t understand; the world shouldn’t be like this.

She trembled all over, her eyes misting over, her delicate body shaking so much it was impossible to tell if it was from burning rage or sorrow.

“What… what exactly do you love about me?!”

Once, her father had loved her, only to abandon her in a blink of an eye.

Her Master loved her, and even more, loved the world; for the greater good of all, she ultimately died inexplicably due to the betrayal of those men.

“You say you love me, but what exactly do you want from me?!” Mu Qingli could no longer bear it; all the questions and fury in her heart erupted, and she roared at Lin Mo, almost a primal scream.

Lin Mo didn’t know either.

Lin Mo swayed precariously, his expression dazed.

‘Am I supposed to say, “Ah, I’m lying to you~ I just want to gain your trust~ so I can escape later~”?’

‘No.’

‘It needs to sound better.’

‘It needs to move her heart.’

People always say love conquers all.

Love makes everything beautiful.

Just like his mother used to say, it’s to make you better.

‘Loving you is to make you better.’

‘Better at what?’

Mu Qingli’s authority had been usurped; now she lived alone in this dilapidated Sect Master’s mansion, with no one to talk to, no one to accompany her.

The sect didn’t need her.

It was just like when Lin Mo was on Blue Star, the world didn’t need him either.

But he had his mother.

But what about Mu Qingli? She had nothing.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have revealed that lonely expression, would she?

Why did he love her?

At first, it was just a casual thought, but now, seeing Mu Qingli’s tear-streaked face, her panicked, almost roaring questions, he had found a reason.

She was just like him.

The world didn’t need her, but someone did.

Loneliness was a terrifying thing.

Lying in a hospital bed, alone, having lost control of his body, trapped in a cage of flesh, the only thing he could do was observe and endure.

Observe the vibrant, colorful world.

Endure the vibrant, colorful world.

Lin Mo thought of many things, but in the end, said nothing.

Because he was so tired, his consciousness began to completely plunge into darkness, his thoughts intermittent.

But he still knew he had something to say.

“Because… I need you.”

His first sentence.

“I… had no one… you… too… but now… you… have someone.”

His second sentence.

There was no spiritual energy, no curse, just light, indistinct words, yet something seemed to strike her profoundly.

Her heartstrings, long dormant, vibrated anew.

Her body moved almost instinctively; as Lin Mo completely collapsed to the ground, Mu Qingli caught him.

Drops of water fell onto Lin Mo’s face.

It was a night of torrential rain, and the dilapidated roof continuously leaked water.

Cold rainwater.

And warm water.

They fell together on Lin Mo’s face, dripping onto his parched lips.

How long had it been—no, when had it ever happened?

‘I need you’—who had ever said those words to her?

Her Master had said: “Mu’er, just stay in the Xuan Nv Sect. Master will be back soon. You don’t need to worry about the cultivation technique; Master will handle it when I return.”

Zhao Qiubai had said: “Junior Niece, just stay put. Leave the Sect Master’s succession to me. If anyone disagrees, I’ll beat them into submission for you; you just need to sit obediently. Give me that cultivation technique, Senior Sister. You just sit in this position and don’t let that old hag Qing You get close.”

Immortal Qing You had said: “Sect Master, please don’t meddle here. You understand nothing; you are merely a pretty face who ascended through your Martial Aunt, so don’t cause any more trouble. Moreover, the Xuan Nv Sect doesn’t need this cultivation technique, nor does it need you.”

She was clearly the Sect Master of the Xuan Nv Sect, clearly managing a large sect of tens of thousands, yet she couldn’t integrate.

It was as if she had never been rescued by her Master that year; all of this was merely her fantasy, and she was actually lying on the ground with her mother, together nourishing the muddy earth with their crimson blood.

To her, this world was a wilderness, an empty, desolate wilderness.

But now, her world was different.

A small mouse that could talk had appeared.

She was very afraid of, and disliked, small mice.

But gradually, the small mouse disappeared, leaving only a dying person lying in that wilderness.

But now, she held him tightly.

Because her world was no longer lonely.

She held the completely unconscious Lin Mo tightly in her embrace.

With a faint shimmer of spiritual light, Mu Qingli unhesitatingly offered her most precious Natal Blood Essence (TL Note: A powerful form of blood essence in cultivation novels, often used for healing or strengthening, at great cost to the donor).

Completely disregarding the fact that this act would cause her cultivation to plummet and her vitality to wane, she slowly transferred the blood essence, imbued with immense vitality and power, into Lin Mo’s mouth.

This blood essence alone would be enough to repair all the injuries Lin Mo had sustained, and would even pave the way for his future cultivation, making his progress unstoppable.

However… all these consequences no longer mattered.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered, her arms tightly wrapped around the person in her embrace, and in that profound silence, she remained sleepless through the night.