Green Mountains and Bright Moon Never Fade, Part 4

Xiao Jiushi’s divine sense, at the peak of Unity stage, swept across the sects below the platform but found nothing.

“…An illusion?”
His voice, like his refined demeanor, carried a gentle, measured warmth, though it clashed with his subdued emotions. His brows furrowed as he turned back.

Elder Wan hesitated before speaking, “Valley Master, is something wrong?”

“Nothing…”
Recalling that fleeting, familiar aura, Xiao Jiushi paused for a long moment before his spring-like smile returned. “Perhaps you’ve mentioned Lord Hanyuan too often today, reminding me of an old friend.”

“An old friend?”

“Yes… an old friend.”
Xiao Jiushi let out a slow, drawn-out sigh, as if afraid to disturb some memory. “Thinking back, it’s been three hundred years since I last saw her.”

“Valley Master, about what we discussed…”

“Oh, you mean Lord Hanyuan?” Xiao Jiushi’s fingers tapped the gold-threaded sandalwood armrest, pondering briefly before smiling gently. “Since the Tianzhao Mirror was brought by her, it cannot be false. If it truly pointed to Lord Hanyuan, the prophecy is likely true. But a crime yet to be committed—how can we judge it?”

“But if we let it go, doesn’t that mean Xiao Zhong and the others died in vain?!” Elder Wan’s voice grew urgent.

“Was it Lord Hanyuan who killed them?”

Elder Wan froze. “Of course… not.”

“If not, why pin the blame on him?”

“But the Tianzhao Mirror clearly showed—”

“Elder Wan, you’re misplacing your anger,” Xiao Jiushi interrupted calmly. “Failing to protect disciples, discern the true culprit, or find evidence isn’t your fault, but it’s certainly not Qianmen’s or Mu Hanyuan’s either. As for the mirror’s prophecy, how to handle it is the Immortal Alliance’s decision, not ours alone. Don’t let obsession lead you astray or let others exploit you. If that happens, Jiushi Valley’s losses won’t be limited to a few disciples.”

“…”

Xiao Jiushi’s words, delivered with a mild smile and grace, carried a sharp edge.
Elder Wan began sweating halfway through, and by the end, his body swayed.

“The Valley Master’s admonition is just. I… I was misguided. After the competition, I’ll return to the valley for secluded reflection…”

Supported by disciples, Elder Wan retreated, his trembling white beard seeming even paler.

“Valley Master.”
Beside Xiao Jiushi, an unremarkable middle-aged man appeared—average height, average features, utterly forgettable.

“What did you find?” Xiao Jiushi switched to mental transmission.

“They’re likely high-realm cultivators Fuyu Palace has nurtured in secret. Even if they hold positions, they’re no higher than officers. Fuyu Palace is cautious—they’ve sent them all away, leaving no trace in the sect. They won’t return until the storm passes.”

“So, not a single lead?” Xiao Jiushi’s smile remained refined, but his mental voice chilled.

“It’s difficult.”

“…As expected. If it were that easy, you wouldn’t have stayed hidden for three hundred years,” Xiao Jiushi sighed. “Has Bi Xiao truly emerged from seclusion?”

“Yes, two days ago.”

“It seems they’re prepared. But I still can’t fathom what’s so enticing here that even that old dog couldn’t resist crawling out of his hole to sniff around.”

“…”

The middle-aged man, hearing his Valley Master’s gentlemanly demeanor laced with biting words, felt a complex mix of emotions.

Xiao Jiushi mused, then glanced at the central platform, arched above the four others, standing empty.
“Could they really be here for Mu Hanyuan?”

The man paused. “For three hundred years, we’ve investigated Qianmen thoroughly. Lord Hanyuan’s conduct is as pure as Tianshan snow—if there were flaws, they’d have shown. If he had anything, Fuyu Palace would’ve noticed long ago.”

“Tianshan snow never melts—how do you know it’s still snow when it does?”

“What does the Valley Master mean?”

“Let’s wait and see. I hope my instincts are wrong.” Xiao Jiushi gazed at the empty platform, his smile tinged with a sigh. “Otherwise, the Qianmen Daoist’s seat might remain vacant for another millennium.”

“Who’s the highest platform reserved for?”
In a corner of the plaza, before reaching Qianmen’s elders and disciples, Yun Yao asked.

“For Lord Hanyuan,” Ding Xiao replied without hesitation. “He’s the head of Qianmen, so it’s only fitting he takes the highest seat. But since he hasn’t reached Tribulation stage, the Daoist title remains pending…”

“Then even without the Dragon’s Roar Sword, Fuyu Palace would’ve targeted him sooner or later…”

“Why?”

A breeze stirred the veil of Yun Yao’s black hat, revealing a cold scoff. “If you were Fuyu Palace, controlling the Immortal Alliance and most of the immortal domain, would you allow a Qianmen Daoist, whose ideals oppose yours, to rise above you?”

“…”
Ding Xiao’s eyes widened, then her brows furrowed. “Then this trial for Lord Hanyuan…”

“Hide? Why hide?” Yun Yao’s laugh was icy. “The day I sealed my sword atop Tianshan, I swore to slay three thousand demons under Naihe. If they dare reach into Qianmen’s territory, they won’t retract their claws.”

Ding Xiao’s neck prickled.
The chill in her words felt like a sword’s edge, sending shivers down her spine.

An incense stick later, the Immortal Sect Competition began.

All participating disciples entered a virtual space, randomly assigned to illusions—snow mountains, forest seas, wastelands, or villages. After surviving two hours of demonic illusions, they advanced.
The second round was a true arena battle in the virtual space, with dozens of arenas projected as light orbs above the plaza, visible from every corner.

As eliminations progressed, the orbs dwindled until only one remained. The final combatants were an elite Fuyu Palace disciple and Qianmen’s newly accepted disciple, Li Wuhuan.

Yun Yao didn’t care who won, but Li Wuhuan gave her an uneasy feeling.
Since joining Qianmen, aside from growing close to Chen Jianxue, Li Wuhuan was otherwise a model genius rogue cultivator.
In the final round, he fought the Fuyu Palace disciple fiercely, trading blows, both bloodied and battered. Li Wuhuan barely won with a final strike.

“Wuhuan!”

As the virtual space’s orb burst, Chen Jianxue, leading Qianmen’s disciples, rushed forward, heedless of propriety, to support the exhausted Li Wuhuan.

Hidden behind her veiled hat among the disciples, Yun Yao tsked. “This Li Wuhuan…”

Despite concerns, Ding Xiao smiled at Qianmen’s victory, leaning closer. “Still have issues with him, Martial Aunt?”

“Hm, maybe I just naturally dislike slick-talking men.”

“You’ll have to bear it. Among Qianmen’s male disciples, Li Wuhuan’s popularity is second only to Lord Hanyuan. Though his demeanor’s a bit flashy, he keeps a respectful distance from female disciples. If he weren’t so clearly devoted to Senior Sister Chen Jianxue, who knows how many would want him as a cultivation partner!”

Yun Yao gave Ding Xiao a complicated look. “The last generation fawned over hypocrites like Xiao Jiushi, and this one chases shady wanderers like Li Wuhuan. Your taste is consistently… terrible.”

Ding Xiao grinned. “We don’t have an exiled immortal like Lord Hanyuan serving us tea daily, so our taste can’t match yours, Martial Aunt.”

“?”

Sensing the veiled hat’s glare, Ding Xiao quickly changed the subject. “About Li Wuhuan, the Sect Leader followed your advice and investigated his background. He’s from a small southwestern village. Everyone there—men, women, old, young—adores him. Seems there’s no issue.”

Yun Yao’s frown deepened. “Why would the Sect Leader investigate Li Wuhuan specifically? Unless he’s planning…”

Before she finished, Li Wuhuan, supported by Chen Jianxue from the virtual space, suddenly knelt before Sect Leader Chen Qingmu.

“Master, I haven’t failed you. On this occasion, I beg your permission—to let me and Senior Sister Jianxue become cultivation partners!”

Yun Yao: “?”
“??”

The plaza erupted in shock, then cheers.

Amid the uproar, Yun Yao, under her veil, was expressionless.

Perhaps unable to bear her Martial Aunt’s fury, Ding Xiao cautiously edged closer. “Actually, there were rumors in the sect about their intent to pair up, but nothing was confirmed, so I didn’t mention it.”

Yun Yao took a deep breath. “Fine. It’s not my place to meddle.”

Ignoring Chen Qingmu’s delighted laughter and approval, Yun Yao focused inward.
As Qianmen’s commotion settled, a burly man in purple robes rose from Fuyu Palace’s platform, cupping his hands toward Qianmen. “Sect Leader Chen, a fine disciple and son-in-law—double blessings. I, Wen, offer early congratulations.”

Chen Qingmu’s expression flickered but he returned the gesture with a smile. “Palace Master Wen is too kind.”

“There’s one matter, though it’s unfit for such a joyous day. As Fuyu Palace leads the immortal sects and the Immortal Alliance oversees the domain, we must answer to all cultivators…” Wen Buyan’s smile grew solemn. “Bring Lord Hanyuan forward.”

“…”

Despite expectations, the plaza’s corners buzzed with shock.

A snow-white figure, flanked by two Immortal Alliance officers, stepped into the center.
Mu Hanyuan stopped before the five platforms.

“Lord Hanyuan.” Wen Buyan, high on the platform, offered a sword salute.

Mu Hanyuan, straight as a blade, replied coolly, “Palace Master Wen.”

“Regarding the incident days ago in Fuyu Palace’s territory—the celestial anomaly, demonic flames, and the spiritual mirror’s revelation—you fulfill the prophecy of your sect’s ancestor, Si Xuan, of a demon seed bringing world-ending calamity. Lord Hanyuan, do you have a defense?”

Amid the noisy crowd, Mu Hanyuan stood unmoved, his robes fluttering in the autumn wind. “It wasn’t my doing. What need for a defense?”

“Well said, ‘not your doing’!” From Fuyu Palace’s group, Fifth Palace Master Duan Songyue rose, his usual false smile gone, eyes glinting venomously. “That day’s vision was seen for miles, witnessed by countless cultivators. Yet you dare deny it?”

Mu Hanyuan’s eyes lowered, masking deep weariness.

Before he could respond, a voice rang out from the crowd—
“Who knows what that mirror was? Ancestor Si Xuan divined at the cost of his life but never named the demon seed. A broken mirror predicts the future? The anomaly’s truth is unverified!”

Soon, sect disciples echoed, “Exactly, I’ve never even seen that mirror.”
“They say it shattered—what kind of ‘celestial treasure’ breaks so easily?”
“Sounds like those shady thieves failed to steal it and framed him instead…”

“Nonsense!” Duan Songyue roared from the platform. “That mirror was Jiushi Valley’s treasure for this competition! Jiushi Valley’s fellows were there, witnessing it all—Valley Master Xiao, is it not so?”

With the matter thrown to him, all eyes turned to Xiao Jiushi. Cursing Duan Songyue inwardly, he maintained his gentle smile. “The mirror is indeed real, but I wasn’t present that day, so I can’t speak further.”

Halfway through, Xiao Jiushi felt a vicious glare scrape over him… from below the platform?
Amused and incredulous, he looked down, wondering which Qianmen disciple or Mu Hanyuan supporter dared glare at a major sect leader.

Then he spotted a black-veiled hat at the back of Qianmen’s group.

Xiao Jiushi froze.
The voices continued—

“Everyone heard—Valley Master Xiao confirms the mirror’s authenticity!” Duan Songyue raised his voice. “This matter is grave. The demon seed prophecy has persisted for centuries, shrouding Qianmen Realm in divine retribution. We cannot ignore it! If mishandled, how will we avert a world-ending calamity? Palace Master, please decide!”

“…”

The plaza grew more chaotic—supportive, opposing, believing, doubting voices clashing.

Wen Buyan sighed hypocritically. “Lord Hanyuan, it’s not that I don’t wish to protect you, but this matter is too serious. Even with our friendship, I can’t risk the immortal domain’s safety!”

A tiny voice emerged from the crowd: “Utterly shameless!”

Wen Buyan’s mournful expression stiffened.

Duan Songyue reacted instantly, furious. “Who dares spew venom in this chaos?!”

His massive spiritual pressure silenced the plaza. No major sect spoke, and smaller sects dared not.

Duan Songyue’s lips curled into a sinister smile, turning to report to Wen Buyan. But halfway, a trembling yet clear female voice broke the silence:
“Lord Hanyuan has never harmed the immortal domain. How can you convict him based on a mere vision?”

Duan Songyue’s face twisted, turning. “Which sect’s ignorant disciple dares—”

Before he finished, not far from the trembling female disciple, a male disciple stood stiffly, neck craned. “We may be insignificant, but Lord Hanyuan saved my life decades ago. Without him, I’d have died to a beast. If the Immortal Alliance wants to convict him, take me too.”

“…”

Like a few raindrops on a silent lake, a modest but cleansing shower followed.

“And me.”
“Me too!”
“Cultivators seek the heart. If we can’t speak against such injustice, what’s the point of seeking immortality?”
“Right, if you convict Lord Hanyuan, convict me too!”
“…”

Mu Hanyuan, standing below the platforms, paused in surprise.
He turned, gazing at unfamiliar faces with complex emotions. Searching his memory, he might vaguely recall some resemblance to the countless cultivators he’d saved.

People he’d never truly cared for, even pitied—weak mortals who could be crushed by a finger from Duan Songyue or Wen Buyan.
Yet they stood up.

Mu Hanyuan recalled Yun Yao’s words:
“…You still don’t understand.”
“The day you truly understand, it won’t be for me, but for the world itself.”

Perhaps.
He’d never truly walked among mortals.
Unbeknownst to him, he’d become a vivid stroke in many lives.

“You… you…”
On the platform, Duan Songyue’s round belly heaved with rage, his face red as he glared at every voice.
Though his glare silenced some, others rose elsewhere, the voices threatening to swell—

“Alas, I share your thoughts,” Wen Buyan interrupted, quelling the crowd.
He looked toward Qianmen. “Why not let Qianmen decide? Lord Hanyuan is your sect’s disciple. It’s more fitting for you to judge.”

“…”

The plaza fell silent.
No one expected Wen Buyan to defer to Qianmen, and some disciples began doubting their earlier judgment of him.

Chen Qingmu, surprised, had already frowned, ready to speak. Now he did: “Palace Master Wen, knowing Lord Hanyuan, he could never—”

“Sect Leader Chen,” Wen Buyan cut in with a kind smile. “By lineage, you and Lord Hanyuan are peers. It’s awkward for you to judge. Let Qianmen’s elders decide, how about that?”

“…!”
Chen Qingmu’s face changed, his rare anger stripping away his mild demeanor as he glared at Elder Chu Tianchen.

As if confirming his fears, Chu Tianchen stepped forward, voice solemn. “Though Lord Hanyuan is our peer, Qianmen won’t shield a demon seed or tarnish our centuries-old reputation. Let the Immortal Alliance decide.”

“Well said! Worthy of Qianmen’s elders, upholding justice!” Wen Buyan barely hid his triumphant smile, sweeping over the shocked, speechless cultivators below. “Then, the Immortal Alliance will—”

“Pfft.”

A clear female voice, laced with laughter, cut through Wen Buyan’s booming tone.

Wen Buyan and his group’s faces changed.

To silence the crowd, his amplified voice carried heavy spiritual pressure—no ordinary person could overpower it, let alone from the minor sects below.

“Who’s there!” Wen Buyan, losing composure, stepped forward, his divine sense sweeping down.

Before he could pinpoint the source, Mu Hanyuan turned, looking toward a corner of the plaza.

Wen Buyan, who’d known him for a century, had never seen that expression.
His heart sank.

At that moment, Qianmen’s disciples parted like an immortal sea, splitting to both sides.

A figure, cloaked in pure black, emerged from their uniform robes.

All eyes turned curiously.
Before they could see clearly, the figure shimmered, like a moon’s reflection scattering on water.
The next moment, amid gasps, the black-clad figure appeared in the plaza’s center, before Mu Hanyuan.

Wen Buyan’s eyes narrowed warily. “Who are you!”

“Me?” Through the veiled hat, Yun Yao chuckled. “I’m your ancestor.”

“Outrageous!”
Wen Buyan, furious, raised his hand for a sword strike but was stopped by Duan Songyue’s sudden embrace.
“Palace Master, no!”

“Have you lost your mind?!” Wen Buyan nearly exploded. “Did you hear what she said?!”

“This must be the one I mentioned—Mu Hanyuan’s junior sister,” Duan Songyue said, trembling with anger.

Wen Buyan, Fuyu Palace’s master, had never been insulted thus, his reason fraying. “So what if she’s his junior sister—”

He froze.

The cultivators were baffled.

A female voice piped up from a corner: “Huh? Lord Hanyuan’s junior sister? That’s a second-generation Qianmen disciple, right? By seniority, she is Palace Master Wen’s ancestor, isn’t she?”

“—!!!”

Wen Buyan nearly lashed out.

Before his sleeve moved, the black-clad woman’s veil fluttered without wind.
A killing intent surged.

Wen Buyan froze, gripping his sword, cold sweat breaking out.

Stalemated, he transmitted to Duan Songyue, “Didn’t you say she was at best peak Void Refinement? What’s this now?!”

“Palace Master, last time I went with my confidants, we would’ve crushed her if not for interference. It should’ve been accurate… Could she truly outshine Mu Hanyuan, advancing a major realm in so short a time?”

“If so, we can’t let these siblings live.”

Resolved, Wen Buyan’s eyes flashed with malice.
He gestured behind his back, sending a sword signal.

Afterward, he seemed relieved, squinting at the woman below. “Since you’re Lord Hanyuan’s junior sister, why skulk about, hiding your face?”

The black-clad woman crossed her arms lazily. “I hide my face, but that’s better than your blatant shamelessness.”

“Martial Aunt Yun!” Wen Buyan, ever adaptable, gritted his teeth. “I respect your seniority, but don’t abuse it.”

“Abuse my status? Haha, thanks—that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard this year,” Yun Yao turned, glancing at the snickering minor sects. “Tell me, who was just posturing sanctimoniously, putting on a monkey show of bullying?”

“—”

Laughter erupted, barely contained.
Fuyu Palace’s group fumed, and the major sects stirred, but no one noticed Xiao Jiushi, leading Jiushi Valley, gripping his sandalwood chair so tightly it nearly shattered.

As Wen Buyan’s face darkened, ready to act, he seemed to hear a transmission, his expression easing.

Below, Yun Yao spun, looking toward Tianshan behind the platforms.

The crowd was still puzzled.

Wen Buyan turned, kneeling toward Tianshan. “Disciple Wen Buyan welcomes Ancestor Bi Xiao’s emergence!”

The plaza fell deathly silent.
Fuyu Palace’s elders and disciples followed, kneeling—
“Disciples welcome Ancestor Bi Xiao’s emergence!”
“Welcome Ancestor Bi Xiao!”
“Welcome Ancestor Bi Xiao…”

Every cultivator standing with Mu Hanyuan paled.

Rumors of Fuyu Palace’s ancestor, Daoist Bi Xiao, who founded the sect three hundred years ago and became its supreme elder, were widespread.
Most certain was that he had crossed the heavenly chasm into Tribulation stage—a realm even Qianmen’s little martial uncle hadn’t reached.

Out of fear or reverence, the plaza’s cultivators bowed toward Tianshan.

Moments later, a daoist in a flowing green robe descended lightly—
Landing on the highest of the five platforms.

“Fellow daoists, no need for formalities,” the long-bearded elder, exuding an immortal air, spoke with compassion, raising his hand in salute.

All who bowed or knelt felt a gentle breeze lift them upright—
A display of cultivation that stunned the crowd. Fuyu Palace’s members straightened proudly, smug.

“…”

Under her veil, Yun Yao’s face changed, her aura wavering.

Mu Hanyuan noticed, turning slightly, transmitting, “Master, if you’re outmatched…”

Before he finished, Yun Yao gritted her teeth. “This old dog, utterly shameless—didn’t he just take your platform?!”

Mu Hanyuan: “…”
Mu Hanyuan: “?”