Ling Luo hadn’t expected such a thing. Her emotions were difficult to calm, and she remained curled in his embrace for a long time without speaking.

Yue Liangze lowered his head to gently touch hers and asked, “Does it hurt?”

Ling Luo wrapped both arms around his waist, holding him tightly.

Yue Liangze leaned against the wall, standing quietly as he waited for her response.

The fragrance of the bewitching flowers was rich and could enchant minds, but for these two, it was a low-level technique that wouldn’t affect them. They only felt the flower’s scent was exceptionally pleasant.

Ling Luo’s grip on his clothes loosened slightly. Yue Liangze looked down and heard her muffled voice, “Do you want to have a sword duel with me here?”

Yue Liangze was startled: “Now?”

This time, it was his turn to hesitate in confusion.

Ling Luo looked up from his embrace: “Did you see that Shenghui Demon?”

“Yes,” Yue Liangze replied calmly, “It’s already dead.”

Ling Luo continued, “Did you see my junior disciple?”

“He didn’t make it into the demon gate. He’ll be fine,” Yue Liangze raised an eyebrow slightly. “Why are you worried about another man while in my arms?”

Ling Luo turned her head and burrowed back into his embrace, her voice muffled: “Are demons very hateful?”

“Hmm?” Yue Liangze didn’t hear clearly.

Ling Luo repeated herself.

Yue Liangze thought she was talking about the Shenghui Demon and answered accordingly: “Very hateful.”

Ling Luo felt as if her heart had been stabbed.

She gritted her teeth and asked again, “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Yue Liangze unconsciously straightened his back, beginning to suspect that Ling Luo had noticed something.

After thinking for a moment, he said, “I bought you an umbrella.”

Ling Luo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his response.

She asked, “Where is the umbrella?”

“I’ll show you when we get out,” Yue Liangze said as he carried her down the stairs and walked toward the flower-covered ground. “Let’s find Yuanyuan first.”

Ling Luo asked, “You haven’t found him yet?”

“No, the demon lair is too vast, and the paths keep changing. Even if you try to return the same way, you might end up somewhere else,” Yue Liangze surveyed their surroundings as they crossed the flower ground toward the opposite cave entrance. “Before meeting you, I saw disciples from other immortal sects, but they were all dead. I haven’t fully figured out this formation yet.”

Ling Luo was quiet for a moment, then buried her face in his embrace and said, “It seems we won’t find him soon. Let’s chat for a while.”

Yue Liangze: “Alright.”

“Both my parents were cultivators. One had extraordinary swordsmanship, and the other excelled in incantations and techniques,” Ling Luo spoke in a neutral tone, showing neither joy nor anger, just the casual tone of everyday conversation. “They were a good match. I’m so beautiful because my mother was beautiful.”

Yue Liangze smiled: “I can see that.”

Ling Luo tilted her face to look at him: “You’re handsome too. Do you take after your father or mother?”

“My mother,” Yue Liangze answered. “That’s what my father said.”

“Then your mother must have been a great beauty,” Ling Luo laughed softly. “My mother was beautiful, had a good temperament, and came from a prestigious family. Her incantations and techniques were profound. It was a pity she married someone like my father who only cared about swordsmanship, so they separated when I was six.”

Yue Liangze listened in silence.

He had thought they were a couple who would grow old together.

Ling Luo recalled the past, speaking softly: “When I was little, my father would tell me interesting stories from his travels, teach me how to sense the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, and also teach me about swordsmanship and incantations.”

She lifted her head slightly and said, “I learned everything quickly.”

Yue Liangze lowered his head to touch her forehead gently.

“Why don’t you ask why they separated?” Ling Luo looked up at him puzzled.

Yue Liangze followed her lead and asked, “Why?”

“Because cultivation is more important than anything else,” Ling Luo said seriously. “Attaining enlightenment and ascending to immortality is what most cultivators pursue. Contemplating the great Dao and the universe is something one can do for a lifetime.”

“Whether human or demon, all follow their instincts and desires. Therefore, many things that seem important to others may not be essential to them.”

Yue Liangze looked ahead as they walked and said, “You are more important than cultivation.”

Ling Luo blinked as she looked at him, her mood suddenly improving.

As a child, she had always felt guilty facing her separated mother, believing the fault was her own. If not for her, her mother wouldn’t have had to break with her father and leave, abandoning the man she deeply loved to raise two children alone.

Everyone could see how sad her mother was.

When her mother went out to eliminate demons, Grandmother Yu, who had raised her mother, looked after her and Yu Zhi. She often gossiped about the adults’ past affairs.

Grandmother Yu said that when her mother was young, she had attended the Golden Luan Pool Banquet of the Twelve Great Immortal Sects under a false name, making many cultivator friends. Later, those people all became prominent figures in the cultivation world, but many died fighting demons.

Her mother once traveled the world eliminating demons with a very powerful female sword cultivator. This female sword cultivator had a brother who was also an outstanding sword cultivator. In their youthful arrogance, these young people all felt they were the masters of the world.

When her mother’s family suffered a calamity, it was the female sword cultivator’s brother who extended a helping hand to save her.

That night was a slaughter between cultivators and mortals. All she could see were sword lights and raging fires. When her spiritual energy was exhausted and she was trampled to the ground, about to be slaughtered, that young man cut a bloody path with his sword to reach her.

“Get up,” the young man said with his back to her, his dazzling sword light blocking all attacks. “You won’t die tonight. As long as I live, you won’t die.”

When the woman looked up, she could only see the young man’s back, but it was unforgettable.

Grandmother Yu told little Ling Luo that fate was a mysterious thing.

Some fates were fickle.

That night, her mother felt she had found her destined one, someone for whom she would sacrifice everything, to follow in life and death.

Perhaps he once thought the same, but couldn’t withstand the variables that came later.

Men had the world, the Dao, and supreme pursuits in their hearts, while women’s hearts contained only them.

Ling Luo told Yue Liangze: “Mother didn’t want me to practice swordsmanship. She sealed most of my spiritual energy, even erasing the instructions for Wujian.”

Yue Liangze frowned: “Why?”

“Because Mother said swords would only bring me calamity,” Ling Luo said with a smile. “She wanted Yu Zhi and me to grow up safely.”

“Yu Zhi had a high aptitude for cultivation, but she didn’t want to be a cultivator. She was always reluctant to practice when told to, always wanting to play,” Ling Luo said softly. “Later, she was traumatized by our mother’s death, lost her ability to sense spiritual energy, and became unable to speak.”

Yue Liangze asked, “How did your mother…”

Before he could finish, Ling Luo interrupted: “I’ve talked so much. It should be your turn now, shouldn’t it?”

Ling Luo looked up at him. Yue Liangze glanced at her, knowing she was avoiding the question, so he didn’t pursue it further.

Yue Liangze said patiently, “What would you like to hear?”

Ling Luo asked, “Were your parents cultivators too?”

Yue Liangze nodded slightly: “Yes, my father was an independent cultivator, and my mother probably was too. I don’t know much about my mother, only what my father told me when I was young.”

He had never seen his mother from birth until now.

“An independent cultivator? Then he must have been a very powerful senior cultivator,” Ling Luo was a bit curious. “Throughout history, most independent cultivators are either masters or failures.”

Yue Liangze smiled silently at her words.

“He was very powerful,” he said. “The Shenghui Demon we encountered earlier would be no match for even one of his sword strikes.”

Ling Luo nestled in his embrace and laughed: “You can’t exaggerate just because he was your father.”

Yue Liangze said seriously, “It’s true. I saw it when I was young.”

Since Yue Liangze could remember, the man had carried that black heavy sword on his back.

The blade was long and appeared to weigh thousands of pounds, its luster gone, surface aged, with scattered rust marks. This sword, like a silent mountain, accompanied the man from life to death.

That day was the Spirit Tranquility Festival. Three-year-old Yue Liangze was still tiny. He came out of his room drowsily after waking up. Outside the house, facing the direction of the setting sun, large patches of orange-red light shone into his eyes.

The man was weaving a bamboo basket in the courtyard, with the black heavy sword placed on the corridor, leaning against the railing.

Little Yue sat down next to the heavy sword, tilting his head to examine it, curiously reaching out to touch it.

“Be careful,” the man said. “It looks dull, but it’s very sharp.”

As soon as he spoke, Little Yue’s hand was cut, drawing blood.

He turned his head gloomily, waving his bleeding hand at the man.

The man sighed and helplessly came forward: “When you’re hurt, you don’t cry or call out. In this, you’re exactly like your mother.”

Little Yue’s injured hand was caught by him, but he used his other hand to touch the sword again, asking in a childish voice, “What’s its name?”

The man said, “Yue Liangxiu.”

Little Yue looked up at him.

The man sat down beside the child, taking out some medicine cloth from his sleeve: “It wasn’t called this before. This name was given by your mother. Your mother said I was hers, and so was my sword.”

Little Yue looked up and asked, “Then where is Mother?”

The man stroked his head, his gaze gentle and full of apology.

He discreetly changed the subject: “Are you hungry? There’s still some food in the kitchen.”

But sometimes children aren’t so easily distracted.

Little Yue looked at him and asked again, “I want Mother.”

The man said, “Mother is far away. When you’re older, we’ll go find her.”

“Why not go now?”

“Because you haven’t grown up yet,” the man decided to end the topic. “Tonight, shall we go to town to see the festival?”

Little Yue’s attention was drawn to the festival. He nodded and was carried by the man toward the kitchen.

The parade and festival on Spirit Tranquility Day were lively and beautiful.

Demons also enjoyed the bustle of the human world.

The man held Little Yue’s hand as they walked by the riverside. Across the river was a laughing, bustling crowd. They walked toward the secluded darkness.

Little Yue saw a dangerous and evil demon for the first time. In just a brief moment, the man’s broad, tall back was in front of him, and with just one draw of his sword, he slew the demon with its massive black wings.

The man turned around, bent down, and pinched his face: “Scared?”

Little Yue shook his head.

The man sighed, “Are you angry with Daddy, so you won’t talk to Daddy?”

Little Yue continued shaking his head: “No.”

“Then talk more,” the man’s eyes were filled with gentle smiles. “After all, Daddy only has you now.”

“Okay,” Little Yue nodded seriously in agreement, then said, “Daddy, I want more candied haws.”

The man said, “You’ve already had three skewers. You can’t have anymore.”

Little Yue swayed his hand, looking at him expectantly: “I still want some.”

The man: “No.”

“…”

“Even if you don’t say another word to me until we get home, it’s still no.”

Father was truly gentle yet merciless.

After hearing this, Ling Luo asked, “Did he buy them for you?”

Yue Liangze: “No.”

Ling Luo laughed while reaching out to stroke his chin: “Don’t be upset, don’t be upset. I’ll buy them for you. I’ll buy you thirty skewers, three hundred skewers, whatever you want.”

Yue Liangze allowed her playfulness, and seeing her laugh, his eyes also showed a hint of joy.

Ling Luo leaned against him, sitting up slightly to ask, “What eventually happened to this senior who wouldn’t buy you candied haws?”

Yue Liangze replied calmly, “He died eliminating demons.”

Ling Luo: “Did you ever meet your mother?”

Yue Liangze shook his head.

The mortal world is full of regrets.

Ling Luo wrapped her arms around his neck, tilted her head to kiss him once, and said softly, “At least you met me. That’s not such a loss.”