The Wind and Moon Are Merciless, Shadows Change in Secret, Part 1

Beneath Tianyun Abyss, in the dim cave where no daylight reached, the candlelight flickered faintly.

On the stone bed before the rock wall, a pearwood table carved with dragon heads and phoenix tails had appeared. A row of variously shaped wine jugs lined the table, their shadows cast like a range of undulating mountains, unmoving under the lamplight.

*Bang.*

The last jade wine jug landed gracefully on the table.

“Immortal’s Drunk is hard to come by, but the demon realm never lacks fine brews,” Mu Hanyuan said, gathering his robe and sitting on a soft mat beside the pearwood table. Leaning against it, he glanced at Yun Yao, confined to the inner side of the stone bed by the table’s presence. “If Master likes, I can have more brought.”

“…”

Yun Yao’s gaze lingered on the small mountain of wine jugs between them, her emotions complex.

She couldn’t tell if Mu Hanyuan had sensed her intentions.
Was this a sign of his wariness?

But time was pressing. The memory of that shrinking patch of snow-white light in his consciousness, on the verge of being swallowed by darkness, filled her with dread.

The arrow was nocked; it had to be loosed.

Yun Yao closed her eyes.
When she opened them, she reached out, her red gauze sleeve brushing over her snow-white arm. Her slender fingers danced across the jugs, their red-lacquered nails catching the light, igniting a dark intensity in Mu Hanyuan’s eyes. As the tension between them tightened like an invisible string, she seemed to make her choice. “This one will do.”
She picked up a jug that caught her eye.

Her snow-white arm retreated beneath her sleeve.

Mu Hanyuan’s gaze deepened. Propping his chin, he smiled faintly. “Your disciple has never held liquor well. Will Master drink alone—”

Before he finished, the jade jug’s stopper clinked free, swinging against the jug with a teasing chime.
Yun Yao tilted her head back, downing a gulp of the fine wine.

The jug pressed his unfinished words back to the table. She responded as if she hadn’t heard, looking up. “Hm? What did you say?”

“…”

Mu Hanyuan’s eyes fixed on her slender fingers gripping the jug. After a pause, he lowered his gaze, his throat bobbing, a hoarse laugh rising from the dark intensity in his eyes.
“Master said you wanted me to join you in a drink. Why not invite me to share?”

“I was afraid the Lord wouldn’t dare.”
She shook the jug playfully, her smile blooming.
The rare dimple on her cheek seemed to hold a sweet liquor, exuding an intoxicating fragrance under the candlelight.

Mu Hanyuan reached across the table, catching her wrist as she dangled the jug.
“Oh? What wouldn’t I dare?”

His fingers brushed the soft flesh of her inner wrist, almost unconsciously.

“You’re the Lord—how would I know what you fear? Why ask me?” Yun Yao said, trying to pull her wrist back.

But he held fast, his gaze deepening as he watched her.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Mu Hanyuan said, his thumb slowly tracing her wrist, moving upward to press against the fingers gripping the jug’s neck, guiding it downward. “Please, Master, pour me a cup.”

“…”

Bound by the soul-binding chains, Yun Yao had little spiritual energy to muster. Under his unyielding gesture, she let him guide her, pouring clear wine into an empty cup on the table.
The liquid flowed like a translucent waterfall.
Only when the cup was full did she feign surprise, looking up. “Oh, I forgot—this jug’s wine, I’ve already drunk from it.”

With that, her left hand, wrapped in chains, snatched the freshly filled golden cup before Mu Hanyuan could.
The chains clinked against the table, ringing sharply.

“Why don’t I drink this one for the Lord instead?”

Before her words finished, Mu Hanyuan seized her chained left hand. Leaning across the table, he pulled her hand toward him, his movement firm and undeniable—
His dark eyes locked onto her like an abyss, freezing the smile in her gaze. In her reflection in his eyes, he drank the wine straight from the cup beside her fingers.

As the cup emptied, Yun Yao snapped out of the spell of his gaze.
As if scalded by his look, she instinctively released the cup, letting it fall, her only thought to free her hand from his tight grip.

But the chains clanged, their echoes weaving through the cave like seductive music—

After several struggles, she couldn’t break free.
Annoyed, her eyes held a smile laced with anger, her radiant face blooming like peach blossoms. “Lord, you’ve drained the cup. Why won’t you let go?”

“Drained, you say?”
Mu Hanyuan’s lashes swept down, like feathers brushing her heart.
Yun Yao followed his gaze instinctively.

Beneath her left hand’s fingers, in the slight dip of her thumb’s base, a single drop of wine lingered, like a shallow stream glimmering in the lamplight.

“You see, there’s still one drop left,” Mu Hanyuan said, pulling her stiff wrist toward him, his lips curving into a reckless smile. “If I don’t drink it, how can it be called draining the cup?”

“—”

Yun Yao instinctively pulled back, the chains tautening and clanging sharply against the rock wall.
But she barely escaped a few inches before Mu Hanyuan, leaning over the table, seized her wrist. The black iron chains gleamed dully under the lamplight, their layered links striking the stone bed, ringing with intense resonance.

Bound by the chains, Yun Yao’s wrists were pinned beneath him.
He propped himself up, gazing down at her. “Didn’t Master want to get me drunk? Why are you fleeing now?”

“…”

Yun Yao’s pupils constricted.

Before she could retort, he lifted her left wrist, lowering himself.
In the dim, ambiguous shadows, she could see nothing.
She only heard the rustle of his snow-white hair tangling with her thin robes, the faint clinking of chains under her powerless struggles, and the soft, teasing sound of water. The searing heat of his lips kissing the base of her thumb tormented her senses and consciousness.

“Mu… Hanyuan…”

With her last thread of spiritual energy, Yun Yao overturned the pearwood table beside her. The table, soaked by the spilled jugs, sent streams of wine cascading, the heady aroma flooding the stone bed.

Mu Hanyuan finally paused, sitting up. His lips, reddened by wine and friction, gleamed, his eyes dark as eternal night yet shimmering with a chilling light that made Yun Yao’s bones tremble.

“Didn’t Master want to get me drunk? For you, it’s effortless.”
“You need only make yourself the cup, and I’d gladly drown in your embrace—what’s wrong with that?”
He picked up a fallen jug, half its contents remaining, and drank deeply from its mouth.
Holding the wine’s fragrance, he leaned down, gripping her chin to force her lips apart. Amid her bitten-off struggles, he shared the overflowing wine between their entwined lips and tongues, drinking it all—

The translucent liquor trickled down her chin, seeping into her embroidered gauze robe.
Mu Hanyuan followed the wine’s trail, kissing downward.

This repeated countless times.

Much later, amid Yun Yao’s furious counterattacks and struggles, Mu Hanyuan finally released her wrists, letting her push him against the overturned pearwood table.

Her angry eyes gleamed with a seductive red, her fingers—marked by his bites—clutching his collar tightly. The cold chains coiled around his body as she straddled his waist, her anger uncontainable.
“You knew, so why did you still…?”

“Because Master will understand.”

Drunk, his sharp features softened, Mu Hanyuan leaned back against the table, his eyes glittering like scattered stars as he gazed at her.

He laughed hoarsely.

“Here, he can’t kill me. But where I *can* be killed, I’ll know everything. And then, I’ll become another him.”

“…”

Yun Yao’s eyes trembled, her fingers tightening on his collar instinctively. Struggling against the drunken haze, she leaned closer, demanding, “Explain yourself… What do you mean by all this?”

Mu Hanyuan closed his eyes, letting himself fall into boundless darkness.
Unlike the countless years before, this time, he was smiling—

“Master, through all lifetimes, you’re fated to never escape me.”

Yun Yao’s heart sank.
She wanted to press further, but the night’s drinking and exhaustion overwhelmed her. Her body softened, and she collapsed into his arms.

—

“Father…”
“Father?”
“Father!”

In the boundless consciousness, lying in the snow-white light, Mu Hanyuan’s lashes trembled faintly and finally opened once more.

His first sight was the child’s shadow hovering before him.

“Little Golden Lotus, why are you in my consciousness?” His expression darkened as a thought struck him. “How long has my soul been asleep? Has the Endfire Seed been unsealed?”

“Father, without the Endfire Seed, you’ll die.” Little Golden Lotus stood at the boundary of black and white light, its shadow bouncing twice. “Take it back.”

Mu Hanyuan’s fingers clenched. “But I promised Master.”

“Mother said!”
Little Golden Lotus jumped up, struggling to repeat Yun Yao’s message verbatim.

“Master really said that?” The frost in Mu Hanyuan’s eyes melted slightly.

“Yes!” Little Golden Lotus puffed out its chest proudly. “I pulled Mother in, right here.”

Mu Hanyuan’s gaze softened, a gentle smile forming. He raised a finger, brushing the air over Little Golden Lotus’s shadowy forehead.
“Good Little Golden Lotus, you’ve worked hard.”

Comforted for only a moment, Little Golden Lotus suddenly remembered something and bounced again. “Mother got him drunk, Father, now’s the time!”

“…Alright.”

Mu Hanyuan’s smile deepened, turning resolute.
He sat cross-legged, forming hand seals, his soul sinking toward the Endfire Seed’s direction in the endless darkness.

—

Half an hour later.

In the heart of the demon realm, beneath Tianyun Abyss, in the cave.

Amid the heady scent of wine on the bed, Mu Hanyuan’s eyes snapped open, his face pale, his lips blood-red.
His aura surged, billowing his dark robe.
His snow-white hair turned ink-black, strand by strand, cascading like a waterfall.

For some reason, deep sorrow lingered in his eyes. His pale fingers passed through his dark robe, touching his aching forehead. As he moved to rise, he suddenly noticed a weight far heavier than any blanket pressing against him—

Her thin gauze robe shimmered, half-revealing her form.
The woman clung to him intimately, her fingers gripping his collar, not quite letting go.

More striking were the vivid red marks, like plum blossoms scattered on snow, trailing beneath her red gauze robe into her collar.

“…”

Mu Hanyuan’s fingers tightened slowly at his side, a sharp sound escaping. His dark eyes churned like a storm about to break, but he suppressed it, burying it in a mist-covered mountain of gloom.

He raised his hand, gently pulling her robe to cover the scattered red marks.
Closing his eyes, he held her tightly, with restrained force.

—

The cost of a hangover was brutal.

The next morning, Yun Yao woke with a splitting headache, swearing to herself never again.
Her voice rasped, like that time she’d sung drunkenly all night while digging up Qianmen’s mountain.
“Water…”

A cool cup touched her lips.
Without opening her eyes, she instinctively sipped, her hand resting on the wrist offering the cup, drinking the sweet water.
“Thank…”

The second “thank” caught in her throat as she froze.

After a few breaths, she slowly opened her eyes. “Mu… Hanyuan?”

Before her, on the bed’s edge, a cold-faced man with cascading black hair gazed at her faintly. “Who is Master calling?”

“…*Gulp.*” Yun Yao swallowed the water.

Instinctively retreating, she stammered, “I, uh…”

The chains clinked against the stone bed, cutting off her words.

Mu Hanyuan’s gaze lowered, catching her attempt to hide her left wrist. Before she could, he seized it.

“…”

He stared at her chained wrist, at the faint, intimate bite marks on her slender fingers.
His expression turned cold, sharp, and dark.

“Master,” he said, kneeling one knee on the bed, pulling her wrist from the shadows into the light, his voice deep and commanding, “…tell me, where did he touch you last night?”