Kong Hou’s fingers, poised to pluck the strings, paused. She stared blankly at the red-robed Huan Zong for a moment. “Huan Zong?”

“Kong Hou, are you alright?” The red-robed Huan Zong sheathed the Longyin Sword and walked quickly toward Kong Hou, stopping two or three steps away from her. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not an illusion demon.”

Accustomed to seeing Huan Zong dressed in white robes, the sudden appearance of a Huan Zong in red—Kong Hou’s first reaction wasn’t suspicion, but amazement. Snow-white skin, red robes, and hazy mist made the man before her seem like a charm demon who had suddenly manifested in the mortal world, enough to make any woman lose her composure.

Though the person before her wore clothing completely different from usual, Kong Hou found a sense of reassurance in him. Putting away the phoenix head, Kong Hou casually inserted the phoenix-head hairpin in her hair and stepped toward Huan Zong.

“Don’t move.” Huan Zong said, “Every stone and every blade of grass here could be part of the secret realm’s formation. If you trigger a formation, you’ll be transported somewhere else.” As he spoke, he approached Kong Hou’s side with strange steps, then tightly grasped her hand.

Kong Hou untied the moonlight-colored ribbon from her wrist and bound both their wrists together, smiling triumphantly. “Now we won’t be separated.”

“Mm…” Huan Zong looked down at their bound wrists and clasped her fingers. “Those two young ladies should have already been transported elsewhere. Let’s leave the misty forest first.”

“Alright.” Kong Hou secretly caressed Huan Zong’s fingers—still that warm, soft sensation. It was definitely Huan Zong.

The tips of Huan Zong’s ears, walking ahead, flushed red as he tried his hardest to ignore Kong Hou’s small movements.

Was Kong Hou playing a tickling game with him?

“Huan Zong, why did you suddenly change clothes?” Kong Hou’s eyes shone as she looked at Huan Zong. “It looks very good.”

“White robes don’t hide dirt well.” Huan Zong suddenly turned and embraced Kong Hou, retreating two steps to the left. Kong Hou looked back at the spot they’d avoided—where there had originally been a large stone, now there was a tree.

“That was close.” Kong Hou patted her chest. “Huan Zong, did you specially change into red robes so I could see you in the fog?”

“No.” Huan Zong released Kong Hou’s waist and turned his face away. “I just randomly took one out.”

“Oh.” Though she didn’t believe it in her heart, she acknowledged it verbally. Men sometimes got stubborn too—she understood. These robes were much more elaborate than what Huan Zong usually wore. Not only did they have various glowing talismans and patterns, but gemstones were also embroidered on them. Besides “resplendent with jewels and jade,” there were no other words to describe these robes.

Yet such gaudy clothes, when worn by Huan Zong, somehow took on an otherworldly quality.

“Take one step north.”

Kong Hou complied and stepped left. Behind them in the thick fog came screams, faintly mixed with a woman’s weeping.

“Don’t look back.” Huan Zong gripped Kong Hou’s hand tightly. “Take three steps east.”

The weeping grew stronger and stronger. Kong Hou clenched her teeth, suppressing the urge to turn around and look, following Huan Zong’s instructions. Anyway, Huan Zong wouldn’t deceive her. She would definitely trust Huan Zong rather than those cries coming from who knows where.

“We’re through.” After walking for an unknown length of time, the thick fog before them finally dispersed. Kong Hou looked around—this was the path where they had entered the dense forest earlier. Now they had essentially returned to their original position.

“Kong Hou, let go of him quickly!” Lingbo jumped down from a tree, gripping her precious sword and nervously pointing it at Huan Zong. “He’s not Daoist Huan Zong at all. He’s a deceptive illusion demon from the secret realm.” Though she found Kong Hou disagreeable, she didn’t want the cultivation world to lose such an important genius cultivator.

“Fairy Lingbo, you’ve misunderstood.” Kong Hou smiled helplessly. “This really is Huan Zong. We’ve already broken through the formations in the illusion. You don’t need to worry.”

Her words didn’t make Lingbo lower her guard; her expression instead became even more unpleasant. She looked at Kong Hou’s hand bound together with the illusion demon’s, her sword-gripping hand breaking into a fine sweat. “I don’t care what you are—get away from Kong Hou immediately.”

This stupid yellow-haired girl was quite capable when exchanging barbed remarks with her, so how could she not distinguish between human and demon? When had Daoist Huan Zong ever worn such brilliant, elaborate robes? Though… they did look quite good, this completely didn’t match Daoist Huan Zong’s habits.

As a sword cultivator, having a sword pointed at one’s nose was the most serious provocation. Huan Zong glanced at Lingbo, then at Kong Hou beside him smiling helplessly, and spoke: “Daoist Lingbo, it really is me.”

Lingbo sneered. “Don’t play that game with me. Just now an illusion demon disguised as Kong Hou this dead… disguised as Fairy Kong Hou to approach me. Illusion demons are best at bewitching hearts, making people unable to distinguish truth from falsehood. You illusion demon’s skills are lacking, but you deeply understand the principle of using beauty to seduce people. Considering your cultivation wasn’t easy, as long as you leave her side, I won’t kill you.” She was the noble and ethereal Fairy Lingbo of Zhaohan Sect—there was absolutely no way she would speak vulgarly!

Seeing Lingbo’s serious expression, Kong Hou smiled at her, this smile carrying more warmth. “Fairy Lingbo, don’t worry. He really is Huan Zong. I guarantee it.”

Lingbo stared at Huan Zong and Kong Hou for several seconds, then slowly lowered her sword. “I can temporarily believe him, but you need to come to my side.” If this yellow-haired girl got killed by an illusion demon right in front of her, Yunhua Sect would probably come crying to Zhaohan Sect every day. Where would she find them another Five Spiritual Roots genius female cultivator then?

“No.” Huan Zong said coldly, “Kong Hou stays by my side.”

“Hey!” Lingbo rolled up her sleeves. This illusion demon using beauty to seduce people actually dared to be so brazen right in front of her. Did he think her title as Zhaohan Sect’s number one genius beauty was unearned?

“Fairy Lingbo, let’s talk calmly. Don’t be impulsive.” Jin Ling emerged from behind a tree trunk and grabbed her sleeve. “What if this really is Daoist Huan Zong?”

If this really was Daoist Huan Zong, how awkward would future meetings be? More importantly, Fairy Lingbo couldn’t beat Daoist Huan Zong. She’d heard that when sword cultivators got angry, they didn’t distinguish between men, women, people, or beasts—they just raised their swords and struck.

Lingbo frowned, examining the clothes on Huan Zong’s body several times over. If this really was Daoist Huan Zong, why would he suddenly wear these red robes? From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Kong Hou, and an extremely absurd guess popped into her mind.

Could it be… he wanted to use his beauty to attract Kong Hou?

“My apologies. There was a misunderstanding just now. Please forgive me, Daoist.” Lingbo cupped her hands toward Huan Zong in apology, though her body remained slightly tense, showing she hadn’t completely lowered her guard.

“Daoist need not be so formal. The secret realm is full of traps—it’s better to be cautious.” Huan Zong didn’t release Kong Hou’s hand.

“I wonder what you two encountered inside?” Kong Hou was somewhat curious. Lingbo’s cultivation level and mental state couldn’t compare to Huan Zong’s—why had she come out even earlier than him?

“Nothing much.” Lingbo’s expression was somewhat unnatural. She couldn’t very well tell Kong Hou that just now an illusion demon had impersonated her, posing and preening in front of Lingbo, pretending to be pitifully helpless, and she’d gotten so angry she beat the illusion demon until its face was ruined.

When she came to her senses, she was already outside the mist. If she said such things, it would make her seem jealous of Kong Hou’s appearance. She would die before saying it.

Suddenly, a silver light flew toward them. Huan Zong wielded his sword with one hand, blocking the silver light back. This wasn’t silver light at all—it was clearly a vicious killing sword.

“Get away from them.” Lin Hu’s entire body was tattered, his form bedraggled. It seemed his luck had been poor along the way; his journey hadn’t been smooth.

“I told you he’s not the real Daoist Huan Zong. Even Senior Lin suspects him.” Lingbo drew her sword again, pushing Jin Ling aside. “Stand farther away.”

Jin Ling silently attached several protective talismans to herself and retreated behind a tree trunk.

Battle was about to break out, yet Lin Hu stopped his hand. He looked at Huan Zong with uncertainty. “Young Master?”

Huan Zong glanced at him coolly. “Clearheaded now?”

Lin Hu sheathed his sword and walked a few steps toward Huan Zong and Kong Hou. “Why are you dressed like this?”

“Good mood.” Huan Zong slightly swayed his sleeves. The Longyin Sword disappeared from his hand. He turned to Kong Hou. “Rest for a bit first. After this, we’ll head east.”

Lin Hu: “…”

So all those three hundred-plus years when you wore white robes and light-colored clothes every day, it was because you were in a bad mood?

“Wait, let me divine first.” Kong Hou pulled out the jade tortoise shell Pavilion Master Sun had given her. Looking at their bound hands, she said, “Huan Zong, cooperate with your hand for a moment.”

Lin Hu: “…”

“You can also divine?” Lingbo cleared her throat, unobtrusively putting away her sword and pretending nothing had happened.

“I know just the basics.” Kong Hou deeply understood the principle of being humble. Holding the jade tortoise shell in both hands, she bowed three times to the heavens and began reciting the divination introduction incantation.

“Ask heaven for southeast, ask earth for northwest. Fortune and misfortune reveal their signs. Bow in thanks to heaven and earth.”

The tortoise shell fell to the ground. Kong Hou looked at it several times. “The divination indicates we should go south.”

“South corresponds to fire. I…”

“South is also good.” Huan Zong said, “Let’s head south.”

“South corresponds to fire. Fire represents light—it’s a good choice.” Lin Hu said with a straight face, “Young Master, do you want to change clothes with me?”

Huan Zong looked at his and Kong Hou’s hands clasped together. “No need. We’ll talk about it after leaving this place.”

Seeing Huan Zong insist, Lin Hu said no more.

He remembered that Young Master particularly disliked bright red things, especially red clothing. The day Young Master left the imperial palace, the entire palace was hung with red silk—it was the day the Emperor welcomed his new Empress, and also the third day after Young Master’s mother had died of illness.

Young Master, dressed in white robes and carrying the small precious sword the Jinyue Sect Master had given him, had entered the main front hall with a stern face, pried the dragon pearl from the dragon throne, then left the imperial palace without looking back, never returning since.

Of course, he’d also never seen him wear red clothing since then.

While Lingbo and Jin Ling both sat to the side resting, Kong Hou secretly tugged Huan Zong’s sleeve. “Huan Zong, why don’t you divine again? I might not be very accurate.”

“No need.” Huan Zong handed her a bottle of spirit liquid. “I trust you.”

Kong Hou covered her face with one hand. “But I don’t feel confident myself.”

Though recently every divination she’d made had been accurate, what if this one wasn’t?

“It’s fine. With Lin Hu and me here, even if the divination isn’t accurate, there won’t be any danger.” Huan Zong said gently, “Drink some spirit liquid first. The secret realm has different changes each day—any direction is the same.”

“Huan Zong.” Kong Hou turned to look at Huan Zong.

“Mm?” Huan Zong looked back at her.

“Even if I had a gentle, powerful, and considerate father, he couldn’t treat me any better than you do.”

—

**Author’s Note:** Cold-faced Huan Zong: Oh, so I’m not your father.