A Thousand Miles of Old Friends, A Thousand Miles of Moonlight, Part 3

On the way to Jiushi Valley, Ding Xiao’s incessant chatter filled Yun Yao in on recent events within Qianmen, giving her a rough understanding of the situation.

For this Immortal Sect Competition, Qianmen had split into two groups.
One, led by Elders Chu Tianchen and Lu Changan, with disciples Chen Jianxue and Li Wuhuan at the forefront, went straight from Qianmen to Fuyu Palace in the Eastern Region. The other, consisting of elite disciples like Ding Xiao and He Fengming, who had participated in the previous competition, was sent by Sect Leader Chen Qingmu to assist Jiushi Valley in transporting the mysterious treasure.

Knowing Chen Qingmu, Yun Yao could see through his intentions. His decision to take Li Wuhuan as a disciple was clearly aimed at securing another championship title in the Immortal Sect Competition.
Chen Jianxue had won the last one, and if Li Wuhuan took this one, Qianmen would claim two consecutive titles, both under Chen Qingmu’s direct disciples. Even if Yun Yao, the Little Martial Aunt, didn’t return to her position, his authority as Sect Leader wouldn’t be overshadowed by Chu Tianchen’s faction.

As for Jiushi Valley…
Chen Qingmu likely sent disciples to assist them directly, bypassing the Immortal Alliance, out of respect for the late Fourth Senior Uncle Du Jin.
This led to the coincidental convergence of these disciples with Mu Hanyuan.

“Martial Aunt, it’s amazing you’re here!”

As they followed Jiushi Valley disciples into the valley and waited in the hall, Ding Xiao sighed with relief. “Brother He and I were so worried we’d mess up this mission, lose the treasure, and disgrace the sect. The Sect Leader would have our heads!”

Yun Yao waved her off. “Don’t drag me into this. I’m just passing through. This mission is your Lord Hanyuan’s—I’m not involved.”

“Oh, come on, Martial Aunt. If Lord Hanyuan got hurt, could you bear to watch? He’s your precious disc—” Ding Xiao caught herself, giggling as she winked at Yun Yao. “Right?”

Yun Yao scoffed lightly. “If he gets hurt, that’s his fault for not honing his skills. Why would it concern me?”
Despite her words, she glanced at Mu Hanyuan.

The Jiushi Valley disciple leading them in was clearly one of Mu Hanyuan’s admirers in the immortal realm, excitedly talking to him about something.

…If Mu Hanyuan truly needed half his cultivation to suppress the blood-red threads in his spiritual mansion, it was as good as cutting off his arm.
On this journey, if they encountered high-realm cultivators’ ambush…

“Tch, Martial Aunt says it’s not her concern, but look at that worried glance at Lord Hanyuan,” Ding Xiao teased.

“?” Yun Yao snapped her gaze back, half-smiling. “A trip back to the sect, and you’ve grown bold?”

“Cough… no, no way, I wouldn’t dare,” Ding Xiao straightened up. “By the way, Martial Aunt, did you hear any talk about Jiushi Valley’s treasure for this competition along the way?”

Yun Yao’s smile faded, her brow furrowing. “The treasure’s details should only be known to the Immortal Alliance’s top leaders. How would it spread to mortals along the way?”

“Exactly! Brother He and I thought it was odd too! This escort mission was supposed to be secret, but now it’s common knowledge. People are even speculating about what the treasure is, with all sorts of vivid rumors flying around.”

“…”

Yun Yao’s heart sank slightly.
The Immortal Alliance had just summoned Mu Hanyuan to escort the treasure, and now its existence was public knowledge…
Coincidence, or someone’s deliberate leak?

What Yun Yao initially saw as a small favor for Jiushi Valley now demanded her full attention.

She turned to Ding Xiao. “What are people saying about the treasure?”

“…” Ding Xiao glanced around, ensuring the nearest Jiushi Valley disciple was too busy pestering Mu Hanyuan to notice, then lowered her voice. “The most common rumor we heard is that the treasure isn’t from the immortal realm—it’s from the demonic realm.”

Yun Yao raised a brow. “A demonic realm treasure? How did it end up with Jiushi Valley?”

“Didn’t the northern demonic realm’s Xuanwu City have a rebellion a while back? The city lord’s advisor and a group of loyalists defected, supposedly taking a secret demonic treasure with them! They were chased southward, stirring chaos in the demonic realm. All four main cities sent forces, causing a huge uproar, but the defectors fled all the way to Two Realms Mountain—” Ding Xiao clapped her hands together, mimicking a trap closing, and grinned mischievously. “And got caught by Jiushi Valley’s elders and disciples on duty there.”

Yun Yao, deep in thought, twitched an eyelid. “Right after Jiushi Valley bolstered their defenses?”

“Yeah! Talk about timing, right? Just their bad luck to run into Jiushi Valley’s reinforced—”
Ding Xiao stopped.
Despite her carefree demeanor, Yun Yao’s nudge made her realize something was off.

Xuanwu City, in the northern demonic realm, was a stronghold. Fleeing south meant diving into the heart of the four main cities’ territories, the hardest route to escape.
Even if it was a feint, fleeing south made no sense—it was far tougher than escaping elsewhere in the demonic realm.
And why would demonic traitors flee toward Two Realms Mountain?

The more Ding Xiao thought, the graver her expression became. “Martial Aunt, are you saying the treasure was deliberately sent by the demonic realm, and there’s a scheme behind it?”

“If I’m not mistaken, the chaos they caused never stopped, and the demonic realm’s still a mess, right?”

“Indeed. The four main cities have been clashing constantly, and the unrest hasn’t settled.”

“Then it’s too bitter for a ruse,” Yun Yao’s lips curled into a faint, mocking smile, her tone tinged with irritation. “To me, it sounds like that Xuanwu City advisor leaked the news early, tipping off Jiushi Valley to reinforce Two Realms Mountain, then went out of their way to deliver themselves into their arms.”

Ding Xiao: “…?”
Deliver… themselves?

Ding Xiao was still reeling from her Martial Aunt’s unconventional phrasing, piecing together the shocking yet puzzling truth about the Xuanwu City rebellion, when a displeased male voice came from behind the hall’s screen—

“Gossiping about others is improper, especially on someone else’s territory. Isn’t it a bit reckless for these junior sisters to make such claims?”

“…”

Yun Yao and the others turned toward the voice.

From behind the screen emerged two Jiushi Valley disciples, dressed as scholars with cloth-bound hair. The older, a young man with a stern, unapproachable face, was clearly the speaker. The younger, looking obedient with bright, dark eyes, seemed about eleven or twelve.
Coincidentally, both looked familiar.

Back at Canglong Mountain, in Fuyu Palace’s grand hall, these two brothers had been provoked by Yun Yao’s blunt “none of your business” remark to Fuyu Palace, sparking a debate.

“Oh!” The younger scholar recognized Yun Yao, his attempt to mimic his senior brother’s composure crumbling as he excitedly tugged his sleeve, looking up. “Brother Xiao, it’s Senior Yun Yaojiu from Qianmen, the unconventional one!”

Brother Xiao, evidently recognizing her too, darkened his face and pulled his excited junior away from Yun Yao. “So it’s Lord Hanyuan and his junior sister in person. Please forgive any discourtesy.”

“…”

Yun Yao always found Jiushi Valley’s ways exasperating—named after the “Nine Thoughts of a Gentleman,” their strict, pedantic demeanor echoed her Fourth Senior Brother’s lineage, giving her a headache just hearing it.
Taking advantage of Mu Hanyuan stepping forward to respond courteously, she naturally slipped behind him.

The disciple named Xiao Zhong was a true disciple of Jiushi Valley and the leader of this treasure escort mission.
With Mu Hanyuan’s assistance, Xiao Zhong was visibly relieved. After confirming the route and contingencies with Mu Hanyuan, they moved to the traditional “discussion” phase of sect meetings—what Yun Yao called the idle chatter session.

“Let me introduce my junior brother, Xiao Rusheng,” Xiao Zhong said.

“Little Confucian?” Yun Yao swirled her empty tea cup, glancing at the boy. “Fitting.”
Dressed like a bookworm at such a young age.
What a pity.

“…”

Xiao Zhong shot her a restrained look, clenching his fist. “Rusheng, as in ‘facing death as life.’”
Pausing, perhaps silently reciting “appearance breeds warmth” twice, he softened his tone. “Though young, Junior Brother Rusheng is among our true disciples and will join us in escorting the treasure to Fuyu Tianshan.”

“…”

At his words, Ding Xiao and He Fengming exchanged stunned glances.

A normal reaction.
Yun Yao knew Jiushi Valley’s disciple selection was notoriously strict, with sparse recruitment results. True disciples were even rarer, barely a handful added in a century.
Xiao Zhong being a true disciple wasn’t surprising, but this eleven- or twelve-year-old boy? That was shocking.

Yun Yao couldn’t help but give the boy another look.

With one glance at his aura, her eyelids twitched.
Peak of the Divine Transformation stage, half a step from Void Refinement—at eleven or twelve? Was there any justice left in the world?

Xiao Zhong still seemed uneasy. After a moment’s thought, he set up a soundproof barrier before continuing. “Since we’ll travel together starting tomorrow, I’ll be frank. Junior Brother Rusheng is not only a true disciple but also our Young Valley Master. If danger arises, his safety will be my priority. I hope you understand.”

“…?”

Yun Yao’s eyelid twitched again, and she joined the conversation for the first time. “Young Valley Master? Xiao Jiusi has a son?”

Mu Hanyuan, who had been looking down, paused, slowly raising his lashes to glance at Yun Yao.

“—!”

Xiao Zhong, unable to suppress his cold expression even with “appearance breeds warmth,” turned to Yun Yao. “In Jiushi Valley, how dare you casually call the Valley Master’s name?”

Yun Yao sneered inwardly.
Back when she sliced off that hypocrite’s cloth crown with one sword, he hadn’t said a word.

Xiao Zhong’s reprimand was instinctive, but his face changed as he realized. “How do you know the Valley Master’s secular name?”

“I know what I know. Why does it concern you?” Yun Yao retorted coolly.

“Even if you learned it from your elders,” Xiao Zhong glanced disapprovingly at Mu Hanyuan, clearly blaming him but refraining due to his “Lord Hanyuan” reputation, “you shouldn’t address a senior so directly, should you?”

“…Senior?” Yun Yao laughed in exasperation. “You’re quite good at elevating him.”

Xiao Zhong’s face darkened, about to speak.

Yun Yao cut in. “Doesn’t Jiushi Valley have a habit of keeping petty ledgers? Go check your records—see if your Valley Master was a named disciple under Qianmen’s first-generation disciple Du Jin.”

“…”

Xiao Zhong’s expression shifted.
As a true disciple, he clearly knew this, but hadn’t expected her to know.

Judging by the shocked expressions of Xiao Rusheng, Ding Xiao, and He Fengming, this old secret was even more startling to them.

Few in the world knew that Jiushi Valley, one of the four great immortal sects, was founded by a Valley Master—now a recluse—who had been a named disciple of Qianmen’s Seven Heroes’ Fourth Senior Brother, Du Jin.

Yun Yao scoffed. “Since you know, do the math. Du Jin was his master, making Hanyuan his peer. What kind of senior is he to me?”

“…”

Out of arguments, Xiao Zhong gritted his teeth and swallowed his frustration.

But Yun Yao wasn’t done, pressing further. “You still haven’t answered—is this little Confucian Xiao Jiusi’s son?”

“…Whether he is or isn’t, what’s it to you, Martial Aunt?” Xiao Zhong, stung by her repeated use of “Xiao Jiusi,” squeezed out the words through gritted teeth.

“It matters a lot,” Yun Yao replied candidly. “A great deal.”

—

Fourth Senior Brother Du Jin taught the world but never took a true disciple before his death.
The only one still tied to him and alive was Xiao Jiusi.
Yun Yao had no intention of dealing with that two-faced hypocrite, but if he had a son, the Naihe Sword—passed down from Du Jin, forged from mysterious iron—would have an heir.

…She had to find a successor for her senior brother.

Besides, Yun Yao liked this little scholar. His upright nature and lively spirit set him apart from Jiushi Valley’s bookworms, making him more appealing to her.

Under Yun Yao’s earnest, unmasked gaze, Xiao Zhong finally ground out, “No, he isn’t.”

“Oh.”
Yun Yao was slightly disappointed.

Xiao Zhong turned angrily. “The treasure will arrive in the valley tomorrow. I’ll lead the escort then and send someone to inform you.”
With that, he bowed.
Before he could rise, his junior brother tugged his sleeve.

Frowning, Xiao Zhong turned to see his junior shaking his head frantically, eyes spinning with urgency. He froze.

What had he just… said?

Muddled by Yun Yao’s provocation, Xiao Zhong stiffened, facing the red-clad girl’s surprised, beaming face. “So, the treasure isn’t even in your valley yet?”

Xiao Zhong: “…”

It was over.

“So the rumors are true—it’s really being transported from Two Realms Mountain?” Yun Yao stepped forward, asking lazily. “What about that defecting advisor from Xuanwu City? Caught too?”

“…I don’t understand what you’re talking about. When the treasure arrives tomorrow, all will be clear.”

After the final polite words, Xiao Zhong lifted the soundproof barrier, instructed a disciple to lead them to rest, and pulled Xiao Rusheng away, giving Yun Yao no chance to press further.

“Fair enough, he’s right,” Yun Yao said, leaning lightly against the table, squinting at Xiao Zhong’s retreating figure, practically fleeing. “When that mysterious treasure arrives tomorrow, all will be clear.”

“…”

As elite disciples, Ding Xiao and He Fengming’s accommodations naturally couldn’t compare to Mu Hanyuan’s status. Jiushi Valley arranged different lodgings for the three.

As for Yun Yao—

“My apologies, we weren’t informed a Martial Aunt would come,” the guiding disciple said nervously. “Please wait, and we’ll prepare a courtyard for you.”

“No need,” Yun Yao glanced at Ding Xiao. “I’ll stay with her…”

Before she finished, Mu Hanyuan looked up. “My lodging—how many rooms?”

The disciple hesitated. “Three, Lord Hanyuan.”

“Then,” Mu Hanyuan said gently, looking at Yun Yao with a faint smile, “three rooms, one for each of us. Perfect.”

As he spoke, he raised his sleeve slightly.
The little lotus, sleeping soundly in his palm, twitched its petals, rubbing against his hand as if agreeing.

Yun Yao: “…?”

One room each, my foot.

Terrified the little lotus might sneak into Ding Xiao’s room at night and call out a horrifying “Mother,” Yun Yao, after painful deliberation, relented.

Thus, the four split into two groups, and Yun Yao followed the disciple guiding Mu Hanyuan to his lodging.
Once in the courtyard, the Jiushi Valley disciple tactfully withdrew.

A man and a woman alone, with past lessons in mind.
Yun Yao silently warned herself, stretching casually as if nothing were amiss and heading toward the farthest wing with a smile. “After half a day of sword-riding and chatting, I’m exhausted. If you’ve nothing else, rest early.”

“I have one unanswered question,” Mu Hanyuan’s calm voice sounded behind her. “Please enlighten me, Master.”

“…”
Yun Yao’s heart stirred uneasily.
She turned hesitantly. “What is it?”

“Why is Master so fixated on whether Xiao Rusheng is Xiao Jiusi’s son?” Mu Hanyuan asked, lowering his eyes.

Yun Yao froze.
She hadn’t expected that question.

In that brief silence, Mu Hanyuan, unusually impatient, raised his lashes, gazing at the red-clad woman under the corridor.

“If records are correct, Xiao Jiusi was the last emperor of the Southern Border Dynasty,” his voice softened. “Rumor has it, Master, you and he once had a fleeting romance, didn’t you?”

Yun Yao: “…”
Yun Yao: “?”