Once Beheld Peach Blossoms Illuminating the Jade Saddle, Part 2

Counting from her original body, it had been far too long since Yun Yao last ventured out for an expedition. Her first in three hundred years sparked a flicker of excitement.
Though the elders couldn’t go themselves, with Mu Hanyuan leading, they confidently selected a group of elite disciples and a few qualified, willing outer disciples to head to Canglong Mountain.

The gathering point before departure was the plaza outside Mingde Hall.

Spotting Wu Tianya among the outer disciples, Yun Yao was surprised.
“I heard this expedition only takes the top ten outer disciples. You made the cut, Brother Wu?”

“Of course not,” Wu Tianya replied brazenly.

“Then how’d you sneak in?”

“Sneak?” Wu Tianya patted his gold-trimmed jade belt.
“My cultivation may be lacking, but I’ve got connections. The outer elder in charge of selection is my third aunt’s nephew’s second uncle’s cousin’s brother.”

Yun Yao: “…”
Are Qianmen’s connections this convoluted?

Before she could commend Wu Tianya’s ingenuity, a haughty male disciple passing by shot them a disdainful glance.
“Hmph. Birds of a feather, scheming together.”

Yun Yao: “?”

She turned to Wu Tianya, who fanned himself as if deaf.
“He’s calling us birds of a feather?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t even know him. Why’s he insulting me?”
“Well…”

Wu Tianya’s fan paused, but with a magnanimous air, he leaned closer, shielding their faces.
“Junior Sister, since we both rely on family ties, let them talk. It’s no big deal.”

“I rely on family ties?” Yun Yao’s sleepy eyes snapped open.

The original Yun Yao was plucked from a beggar pile by Master Taiyi. Any kin she had would’ve been dead for five hundred years—their graves sprouting spirit grass by now.

Wu Tianya blinked.
“You haven’t heard the sect gossip?”

Yun Yao grew wary.
“What gossip?”
Her emergence was tightly concealed, and “Naihe” hadn’t fully exposed her. No one should know…

As she racked her brain, Wu Tianya said, “They say you’re the Sect Leader’s illegitimate daughter from outside the mountain.”

Yun Yao: “…”
Yun Yao: “…What?”

“Don’t be shy about it. As long as Senior Sister Chen Jianxue doesn’t mind, no one dares touch you. It’s just talk—no harm done.”

“No,” Yun Yao pressed her forehead, “such baseless nonsense, and you all believe it? Aren’t you afraid the Sect Leader will get mad?”

“Afraid of what? An elder asked him yesterday, and a disciple overheard him laughing it off.”

Yun Yao: “…”

Chen. Qing. Mu.
Quite the knack for raising your own status.

Before she could plot how to settle this with her “Sect Leader nephew,” the earlier sneering disciple’s voice drifted over with more mockery.

“Clinging to blood ties to worm into this elite expedition—I thought some were shameless, but she’s hiding family scandals?”
“The Sect Leader’s too biased, putting her under Little Martial Aunt, making her Lord Hanyuan’s direct junior sister. Even Senior Sister Jianxue doesn’t get that privilege.”
“Compensation, I bet. Who knows where they dug up this trash—so far beneath Jianxue. The Sect Leader probably sent her to Hanyuan for some refinement, seeing her coarseness.”
“Her aura’s barely above a mortal’s—no Foundation Building, even. She’ll probably cling to Hanyuan’s status and stick to him…”

Yun Yao meant to ignore them—mere youngsters, barely a fraction of her age.
But hearing “Lord Hanyuan” again and again, picturing that annoying silver lotus crown from last night’s dream, she bit her lip, grinding her teeth, and let out a soft chuckle.
“Who said that last part?”

The red-robed girl turned, her question frank and bold.

The gathered disciples froze, clearly not expecting a cultivation-less nobody to challenge them.
After a beat, the female disciple who spoke last frowned.
“I said it. So what?”

“You said I have no cultivation, just clinging to status, sticking to Mu Hanyuan?”

“Lord Hanyuan is far above you, yet you dare call his name so casually—truly a rustic with no manners!” the female disciple snapped.
“He and Senior Sister Jianxue grew up together, bound by mutual affection. You’d better know your place and stay out of their way on this trip—”

Yun Yao clapped her hands.
“Great idea!”

“What?”

“Your suggestion’s brilliant—I hadn’t even thought of it,” Yun Yao’s eyes sparkled, the red butterfly on her forehead vivid.
“Since I’m a cultivation-less waste, unable to fly on a sword, I guess I’ll have to beg Senior Brother Hanyuan to stay by my side, protecting me day and night.”

“You—you! Shameless!!”
The female disciple, livid, nearly drew her sword.

Her companions, stunned by Yun Yao’s sharp tongue despite her delicate, useless appearance, shifted uncomfortably.
A male disciple stepped forward, blocking his fuming sister, and sneered, “The Sect Leader’s always proper, and Senior Sister Jianxue is gentle as water. How did they end up with someone so shameless—”

Yun Yao cut in, “If the Sect Leader weren’t so soft, would you dare gossip? He’s too proper, letting Qianmen’s crooked ways run rampant. Where’s the sect’s former glory?”

“You dare criticize the Sect Leader!”

“Oh? And your gossip is fit for the elders’ council in Mingde Hall?”

“—”

Seeing they couldn’t outtalk her, the disciples exchanged glances.
The lead male, the one who first sneered at Yun Yao, flicked his sleeve, addressing the others.
“Hmph, just a grasshopper after autumn—let her be smug for now. ‘Naihe’ has stirred; soon, Little Martial Aunt will emerge and personally clean house!”

Such low-grade threats, banking on others, went ignored by Qianmen’s Little Martial Aunt herself.

Yun Yao turned back with a victorious smile, only to see Wu Tianya grinning behind her.
“We’re kindred spirits, Junior Sister.”

Yun Yao paused, then remembered something.
“Since I’m under Little Martial Aunt, calling Mu Hanyuan Senior Brother makes me a second-generation disciple. By rank, shouldn’t you call me Martial Aunt?”

“…”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but the vast plaza outside Mingde Hall, including the gaggle of disciples, fell silent.

They realized a problem.

—Wu Tianya wasn’t the only “victim.”

Mu Hanyuan, ever refined, never minded titles, often called “Senior Brother” informally despite his lofty rank.
But in truth, by Little Martial Aunt’s seniority, her direct disciples were peers with the Sect Leader—second-generation. Many third-generation elders would owe Yun Yaojiu a bow and a “Martial Aunt.”
As for inner and outer disciples, the youngest were ten generations removed, lucky to kneel with just one kowtow.

“…”

Dead silence for a few breaths.

Cough, cough, cough—
“Junior Brother, what was that sword form you asked about yesterday?”
“Oh, it was that one…”
“Wow, the sun’s blazing today…”

Within ten zhang of Yun Yao, the area cleared out swiftly.

Wu Tianya, caught by his jade belt, unable to flee, silently raised his fan to block her gaze, humming a tune and turning away as if nothing happened.

His folksy melody, sung in a garbled hum, made Yun Yao’s head throb.

Before she could “silence” him, Wu Tianya stopped, lowering his fan and nudging her.
“Junior Sister, is Lord Hanyuan… shaken or something?”

“?”

Yun Yao followed his fan’s point, looking back.

Mu Hanyuan arrived with Chen Jianxue.

Still the pristine Lord Hanyuan in flowing robes, still the snowy silver lotus crown.
One difference: a white silk ribbon now covered his eyes, tied beneath the crown, fluttering into his ink-black hair. The stark black-and-white contrast added a seductive allure to his celestial glow.

Yun Yao: “…”
Why… does he look more disastrous?

Feeling a bad premonition, she glanced at the plaza’s other side.

Qianmen disciples, used to Mu Hanyuan’s ethereal purity, were either staring or whispering.
Whispering was one thing—why were the male disciples blushing?

Wu Tianya clucked beside her.
“No wonder, outside the sect, the four great sects’ disciples are always sour, saying, ‘The world’s moon resides in Qianmen, pined for daily yet unseen.’ No surprise from Little Martial Aunt—picking disciples by face.”

“Don’t slander her. When she brought him back, she didn’t know he’d turn out this disastrous.”

“Don’t be naive. Little Martial Aunt loved beauty,” Wu Tianya chuckled.
“What do you think she saw in those young talents she chased?”

Yun Yao: “…Their faces?”
“Exactly.”
“…”

Was that why the original ruined Mu Hanyuan—so simple?

But Yun Yao had no time to pity him. She already knew her attempt to curb his allure with the ribbon yesterday had backfired spectacularly.

Thankfully, there was his “junior sister.”

Walking beside Mu Hanyuan, Chen Jianxue wore a snowy gauze dress, its collar embroidered with silver phoenixes, a pale green sash at her waist—elegant and otherworldly.
Beside Mu Hanyuan, they were a jade-carved pair, a perfect match—
Enough to fend off a mountain of peach blossoms.

Yun Yao exhaled in relief.

As Mu Hanyuan and Chen Jianxue approached, taking count of the group, the female disciple who’d clashed with Yun Yao shot a snide glance.

“Lord Hanyuan,” she said pointedly, “your junior sister Yun Yaojiu is here. She just told us she’ll cling to you on this trip, demanding your constant care and protection.”

“…”
Yun Yao: ???
Exaggerating a complaint like that—she never said constant care and protection!

She felt one step from spontaneous possession.

Especially as Mu Hanyuan, silent, tilted toward her, the white silk fluttering under his lotus crown.

Yun Yao: “…Yep, I said it.”

Her admission drew even Chen Jianxue’s surprised glance, while others smirked, awaiting a spectacle.

Shame peaking, Yun Yao grew bold, meeting their gazes with a skip to Mu Hanyuan’s side.
“Senior Brother—”

She tugged his robe’s sleeve lightly, shaking it in her palm.
“I’ve got no sword, can’t fly. You wouldn’t leave me uncared for, would you?”

Disciples: “—”
???

Mu Hanyuan seemed to pause.
Yun Yao leaned closer, her smile fiery, her words a private “threat.”
“If you ignore me, it’d be like betraying a fellow disciple. Master would be heartbroken.”

“You’re shameless, Yun Yaojiu! Using Little Martial Aunt’s name to coerce Senior Brother—Qianmen’s disgrace!”

The instigating female disciple, face red, glared at Yun Yao’s grip on Mu Hanyuan, grabbing her sword hilt.
“I challenge you in the sect! Today, you’ll kneel and apologize to Lord Hanyuan!”

Before her words settled, her sword light flashed, aiming to force Yun Yao back.

Whoosh.

Except for Yun Yao, no one saw what happened.

A white sleeve rose and fell, Mu Hanyuan’s figure flickered, appearing behind Yun Yao, deftly returning the female disciple’s sword to its sheath.
His face calm as jade, his voice frosted.
“No rudeness.”

“Lord Hanyuan! She insulted you first! Even the Alliance wouldn’t dare—”

“Silence.”
Mu Hanyuan’s tone deepened.

The female disciple froze, face flushed, trembling with anger but bowing in submission.

Yun Yao, eyes lowered, studied the sleeve that slipped from her grasp, thinking this disciple was the world’s most untouchable.
Even a touch seemed to disgust him.

Fair enough—her taunting words had riled the disciples into a fury, ready to devour her, showing Mu Hanyuan’s untarnished status in their hearts.

The world’s mountain snow, its heavenly moon, allowed no smudge.

Yun Yao hid her clenched hand, turning back with a smile.
She caught Mu Hanyuan’s final verdict: “Disrespecting superiors and fighting peers breaks sect rules. You’re excused from this trip. Return to your peak for reflection. I’ll write to Elder Ran with the reasons.”

“Yes… I obey.”

The female disciple, eyes red, saluted with her sword and left. Mu Hanyuan turned back.

The white silk fluttered, and Yun Yao, meeting his gaze, grinned unabashedly, as if awaiting her punishment.

“Yun Yaojiu,” Mu Hanyuan said softly, pausing, as if helplessly admonishing, “…Don’t demean yourself.”

“…”

Her smile faltered.

—She’d sullied him, yet he urged her not to demean herself.

Yun Yao realized her mistake. Some truly were like mountain snow, pristine and pure. When he resolved to be the moon, no effort could drag him down.

Though Qianmen had declined, barely ranking fifth among the four great sects, its past glory and Mu Hanyuan’s status as future Daoist kept it on par with them.
Skipping “personal sword flight,” Mu Hanyuan summoned an immortal boat.

After the plaza incident, the disciples on the southwest-bound boat were impeccably behaved. Even the excited ones whispered in small groups, wary of being overheard.

Yun Yao sat at the boat’s tail, leaning on the railing, gazing at the merging cloud-sea behind.
Her eyes darted up and down, as if searching the clouds.

“You’ve stared the whole way, Junior Sister. It’s just indistinguishable mist—that interesting?” Wu Tianya sidled over.

Yun Yao propped her chin lazily.
“Not interesting.”
Her divine sense lingered on a hidden presence trailing the boat.

Wu Tianya: “If it’s not, why keep looking?”

“What else is there? You’re not interesting either,” Yun Yao said coolly, her gaze sharp.

…Who could it be?
Following since they left Qianmen, not impromptu but planned.
Was it a sect issue? Or someone among the disciples?

“Look at the picturesque beauty, of course.” Wu Tianya flipped over, leaning against the railing, grinning softly.
“Look ahead.”

“?”

Her divine sense unmoving, Yun Yao turned, glancing to the boat’s front.

Chen Jianxue was consulting Mu Hanyuan, bowing slightly, her head tilted, fingers tracing spell patterns in the air. Spiritual energy flowed between them, isolating them from the others like a separate world.

Wu Tianya asked, “Beautiful, right?”
Yun Yao drawled, “A talented man and… no, a talented woman and handsome man. Pleasing to the eye.”
Wu Tianya said, “Beautiful, but not yours. Learn to let go, Junior Sister. Turning back is the greatest good.”
Yun Yao chuckled softly.

Noticing her gaze, the disciples who’d clashed with her shot back scornful or mocking looks.

Yun Yao perked up, sitting straight, tilting her head, and waving with jingling bells, flashing a radiant smile.

“…”
The disciples, as if swallowing flies, turned away swiftly.

Wu Tianya, seeing this, stifled a laugh.
“Let me introduce your new enemies.
The one in the green robe is He Fengming, Elder Lu Chang’an’s favored thirteenth disciple, Chen Jianxue’s biggest fan. He’s probably mad about the Sect Leader’s ‘illegitimate daughter,’ taking it out on you for Jianxue. Don’t let his upright look fool you—his drinking’s terrible. Named ‘Fengming,’ he drunkenly mimics geese at his peak, to his sect’s dismay…”
“The one in purple, Ding Xiao, Elder Tang Yin’s last disciple. Small but mighty, she could take ten He Fengmings without spiritual energy. Last time he played goose, she beat him off the peak…”
“And beside Ding Xiao…”

Wu Tianya prattled for an incense stick, the trailing presence still lingering at a distance.

Yun Yao’s eyes grew curious.
“You’re Qianmen’s gossip sage.”

“Of course. Think I’d lie?”

“If you know everything, how about cultivation contracts?”

“Contracts?” Wu Tianya turned.
“Details?”

“Like a master-disciple… or dual contract, regardless of cultivation level, letting one control the other completely,” Yun Yao beckoned, “making them do anything, fully compliant, unable to resist.”

After a few silent breaths, Wu Tianya said gravely, “Junior Sister, some melons you can twist, and I’d help. But that melon is the future Qianyuan Daoist. You don’t want the Alliance chasing you, do you?”

Yun Yao: “…”
Yun Yao: “?”