Hu Sha pouted and turned to leave. Before taking a few steps, she saw several Taoyuan Mountain disciples pointing at them, saying in low voices, “See that? It’s her… so bold and audacious, she even dared to push down her own master… She looks quite cute but acts so aggressively!”

Hu Sha wished the ground would split open so she could burrow in and never come out to embarrass herself.

Feng Yi crossed his arms and glanced coldly in that direction. Those disciples quickly ran off. He looked helplessly at Hu Sha shrinking into her turtle shell and sighed, “Useless. So what if people say a few words? Will it make your skin fall off?”

Hu Sha nodded sheepishly, “I… I’ll try to be more useful in the future.”

Feng Yi shook his head and walked ahead on his own. Hu Sha jogged to catch up, asking repeatedly, “Second Martial Brother, how is Master’s injury? Can he walk yet?”

Feng Yi looked at her with a half-smile, “I knew your first question would definitely be this. ‘Master, Master’ constantly on your lips. Fine, to set your mind at ease—Master is fine. With Patriarch intervening, as long as he’s not dead, he can be brought back to life. What’s that little injury? Right now he should be lazily sleeping in bed. You’ll see him tomorrow.”

Seeing Hu Sha reveal a relieved smile, he said in a slightly mocking low voice, “Done asking about Master? Now who else do you want to ask about?”

Hu Sha’s face reddened. She timidly looked up at him and mumbled, “Then… then Second Martial Brother… you came to find me… for what matter?”

Feng Yi’s eyebrow twitched slightly, “Can’t I find little martial sister if there’s no matter?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Hu Sha was anxious.

Feng Yi laughed heartily, brushed his hair behind his ears, and said, “Actually, I just saw you looking quite depressed, so I called you out for a walk to lift your spirits. We rarely come to Taoyuan Mountain once—wouldn’t it be a pity not to look around?”

Hu Sha’s heart was moved. She couldn’t help but lift her hand to hold his sleeve, softly calling, “Second Martial Brother.”

Feng Yi took the opportunity to grasp her hand. The two slowly strolled at the mountaintop.

Taoyuan Mountain had many steep cliffs. She didn’t know which peak this was—only that pine trees grew everywhere through rock crevices, looking extremely precipitous. A pagoda was built at the summit, gleaming with jewels—probably enshrining the nine heavens’ gods.

Feng Yi said nothing, just quietly gazing at that pagoda along the way. When they reached the main gate, Hu Sha discovered the entrance was covered with seals, with over ten disciples standing guard with solemn expressions.

Seeing them approach, disciples immediately waved, signaling them to leave quickly.

Hu Sha said in a low voice, “Isn’t this a forbidden area? Second Martial Brother, why don’t we go look elsewhere?”

Feng Yi stopped and said lightly, “This is the pagoda where Taoyuan previously enshrined divine relics. Unfortunately, now the Golden Pipa has been stolen. Even with the pagoda empty, it’s quite boring.”

So the legendary Golden Pipa was kept here. Hu Sha turned back for another look and said curiously, “Didn’t they say the Golden Pipa was swallowed by Taowu? Haven’t they found it?”

Feng Yi showed a mocking smile, shook his head, and was about to lead her away.

The incident happened in that instant. Suddenly, disciples’ shrieks came from behind, immediately followed by a “whoosh”—like something sharp breaking through the air. Hu Sha instinctively turned to look. Suddenly she was pushed hard in the chest, her body involuntarily flying backward.

A scorching wind brushed past her ear’s edge, darting past like lightning, emitting shrill cries as it attacked Feng Yi directly. Hu Sha fell hard to the ground. Disregarding her nearly dislocated bones, she scrambled up shouting urgently, “Second Martial Brother, be careful!”

Only then did she see clearly what was flying at high speed. It was an immortal crane, more than three times larger than ordinary cranes, its entire body brilliantly golden, as if cast from gold. It was madly pecking and scratching at Feng Yi with its sharp beak, shrieking piercingly—the sound sharp and grating.

The Taoyuan Mountain disciples guarding the gate all panicked, rushing forward trying to stop it. However, the spirit crane’s long beak was too formidable—one brush and skin broke, tendons injured. They couldn’t approach and could only surround it outside yelling and shouting, helpless.

Feng Yi dodged extremely fast, evading the first attack in the blink of an eye. Just as he was about to leap away, his back hem was caught in the crane’s claws—with a “rip” it was torn to shreds. He couldn’t help but laugh and curse, “Beast! You’ve ruined my most valuable outfit!” Having spoken, he backhandedly shed his wide outer robe, covering the spirit crane’s head with it. His palm suddenly emitted red light, swallowing and spitting. Without a sound, he struck its chest with one palm—no one saw it.

The spirit crane shrieked miserably. In two or three moves it tore that outer robe to shreds. Its slender neck bent at a strange angle, its long beak like a knife slashing across his chest. Feng Yi’s chest immediately spattered with blood.

He pressed his wound, face pale as he retreated several steps, seeming unable to even move. He could only watch helplessly as the spirit crane lifted its head to peck down.

A black figure rushed over like a ghost. Hu Sha only saw cold light like a hook, flashing past. That spirit crane flapped its wings twice, fell to the ground with a “thud,” its legs twitching slightly before immediately expiring. The layer of brilliant golden light on its body also instantly dimmed.

That person supported Feng Yi up, saying in a low voice, “How is the injury?” It was Eldest Martial Brother Feng Di. At the critical moment, he still intervened to save his martial brother and sister.

Feng Yi smiled bitterly while pressing his continuously bleeding wound. Even speaking was extremely difficult, “This spirit crane… why did it suddenly attack? If not for martial brother arriving, Hu Sha and I would probably have lost our lives here today…”

Feng Di quickly took out a pill and stuffed it in his mouth, “Don’t talk so much. Let me see the wound.”

Only then did the still-frightened Taoyuan Mountain disciples gather around, explaining what had just happened in a confused jumble.

“This spirit crane was originally placed here by Patriarch to guard the divine relic. Previously there were two—one female, one male. The night the Golden Pipa was stolen, the female one was killed. Only this male crane remained, becoming paranoid all day. Last time a martial brother brought it water to drink and nearly got his eyes pecked out! We were negligent, thinking since it was locked in the pagoda it couldn’t get out. We never thought it would injure Daoist friends—truly deeply apologetic!”

Feng Di frowned, “Since you knew it would attack people without reason, you should have guarded it properly. If lives had been lost, what then?”

Those disciples knew they were at fault and could only apologize repeatedly. Others went to see the dead spirit crane beside them, lamenting, “The remaining spirit crane has also died. Now Patriarch will surely punish us severely!”

Feng Di simply applied some medicine to Feng Yi’s wound, then turned to look at the spirit crane’s corpse, also somewhat surprised, “I originally didn’t intend to take its life, only to force it back… Very well. Since the spirit crane was killed by me, whatever punishment there should be, I alone will bear! No need to panic!”

Though he said this, the cause was still their own spirit crane suddenly going mad and injuring people. Telling this to Patriarch would still result in scolding. The Taoyuan Mountain disciples all hung their heads dejectedly. Having no choice, they still had to carry the spirit crane’s corpse to report to Patriarch Qiwu.

Feng Yi’s face was pale. He said in a low voice, “Martial Brother, ultimately Hu Sha and I were wrong—we shouldn’t have come here. That spirit crane probably became paranoid because of the Golden Pipa theft incident. Suddenly detecting unfamiliar human scent, it inevitably became nervous. We’re also at fault. Later I’ll go to Master myself to confess.”

Feng Di shook his head, “You’re seriously injured. Don’t speak anymore! Hu Sha, come support your Second Martial Brother. I’ll send you both back to your lodgings!”

Hu Sha was still in a state of shock, unable to say a word. Trembling, she walked over and clutched Feng Yi’s clothing tightly. Before she could speak, tears already rolled down her face.

Feng Yi touched her head to comfort her.

Feng Di mounted the clouds. Flying aimlessly in midair for a long time, the further he flew, the more iron-blue his complexion became.

Feng Yi sighed, “Martial Brother, go left. The third peak.” Having spoken, he looked up at his darkening face and teased, “Martial Brother got lost and just happened to see us, right?”

“Don’t talk!” Feng Di snapped viciously.

After spending quite some effort in midair, he finally sent Feng Yi back to his courtyard.

Feng Di took a small wooden box from his sleeve and tossed it to Hu Sha, “I must go to Patriarch. You stay here to look after Feng Yi. The wound cannot get wet. Be careful.”

Hu Sha took out bandages and medicinal powder from the box, turned back to look helplessly at Feng Yi. He grinned and said leisurely, “Little martial sister, looks like we’ll have to add another secret.”

Hu Sha wanted to cry but had no tears. She looked around wildly, guilty as a thief.

Feng Yi smiled, “Don’t worry. This is a single-occupancy guest room. Doors and windows are all locked—no one will see.”

Having spoken, he removed his upper garment, exposing his bare body. Hu Sha instinctively tried to cover her eyes. However, holding medicinal powder and bandages in her hands, she couldn’t cover them. She could only walk over hesitantly and squat by the bed.

This was a four or five inch long wound, edges turned outward, blood flowing continuously—extremely gruesome. At a glance one could tell it was torn by a spirit crane’s long beak.

Strange—she seemed to have seen a similar wound before. Last time when treating Second Martial Brother’s injury in the room, he’d had the same kind of wound on his body.

Hu Sha couldn’t help but reach out to press lightly on it, saying in a low voice, “Second Martial Brother, this wound…”

Before finishing, she felt her hand tightly grasped.

“To take advantage of me, now isn’t a good time.” He smiled.

Hu Sha’s face immediately flushed. She forcefully pulled her hand back, saying urgently, “I just thought this injury looks very similar to last time’s! Besides, Second Martial Brother, you really! Why always play mysterious—every time ending up covered in wounds!”

Feng Yi half-reclined, propping up his cheek, smiling as he said, “This is probably Second Martial Brother’s charm. A man with secrets has appeal. Little martial sister, understand?”

She understood nothing!

Hu Sha applied medicine and bandages with a stern face. Just as she finished tying the bandage, she suddenly heard bells ring from the distant peak—clear and melodious, like a phoenix’s long cry, a hundred birds singing in unison.

Feng Yi listened with closed eyes for a moment, then said in a low voice, “Sounds like welcoming bells for scattered immortals descending. Taoyuan Mountain is holding the private Immortal Arts Convention.”

Hu Sha’s wrist immediately trembled. She said tremulously, “Immortal Arts Convention? Then… will Qingling Zhenjun come?”

He shook his head, “I don’t know. Depends on relationships.”

Hu Sha’s heart burned with anxiety. She stood up about to leave. Feng Yi grabbed her sleeve, “What are you doing? Going out now, you won’t see anyone. Besides, today isn’t a day disciples can freely meet scattered immortals.”

She said urgently, “No… I just… just want to go look…”

Feng Yi pulled hard. Hu Sha immediately lost her footing, tumbling headfirst before his bed. Her head struck his shoulder. Both cried out in pain.

Right at that moment, the door was suddenly kicked open. Manqing rushed in recklessly, “Master Uncle Feng Yi! All the scattered immortals have arrived! Have you seen Master Uncle Feng Di…”

Halfway through speaking, she stopped. Her pair of pitch-black eyes looked at the room’s scene with shock and amazement.

Well—a man with bare upper body, wrapped in bandages still faintly showing bloodstains, holding a young lady with flushed cheeks and tearful eyes, both panting heavily.

Even if Buddha came, he’d misunderstand.

Manqing very cooperatively covered her eyes and backed away running, still shrieking, “Heavens! Master Uncle! Sorry I interrupted your intimate moment again! Carry on, carry on! Pretend I was never here!”

Hu Sha froze for a long time, then turned to stare blankly at Feng Yi, “You… didn’t you say the door… was locked?”

Feng Yi sighed with a smile, “I thought you locked it.”

Hu Sha collapsed headfirst on the floor, unable to get up anymore.

After dinner, Fang Zhun came.

Hu Sha was washing her face again.

His first words upon entering were, “Today Master heard someone say you took advantage of Feng Yi’s injury preventing him from moving easily, thus violently pushed him down intending to take liberties…”

With a “clang,” the wash basin fell from the stand. Hu Sha’s face alternated between red and white, expression grieved, wronged, annoyed… changing endlessly.

Fang Zhun immediately changed topics, “Patriarch Qiwu just told Master that you and Feng Yi were attacked by a spirit crane at Pipa Pagoda. Were you injured?”

Hu Sha silently shook her head, saying in a low voice, “I’m fine. Rather, Second Martial Brother was injured. I bandaged it for him. Eldest Martial Brother should be looking after him now.”

Fang Zhun saw her face seemed to gradually calm down. Only then did he smile and walk over, familiarly sitting in a chair and even pouring himself tea.

“Feng Yi, that child, is also not bad.” He spoke with double meaning. “Ordinarily rather frivolous, yet he’s never done anything bad.”

Hu Sha’s face paled slightly. Her heart suddenly became a tangled mess.

She stared fixedly at the mottled starlight outside the window. After a long time, she said, “He’s just my martial brother.”

Fang Zhun nodded knowingly, then chatted with her about various things. Seeing her absent-minded, he stood up, “Very well. It’s late. You should rest. Tomorrow morning have Feng Di come get you to accompany Master to Jingluan Palace for the Immortal Arts Convention.”

She should be very happy—having a chance to see Qingling Zhenjun meant her chance of going home increased.

But somehow she just couldn’t feel happy.

What was she anticipating? She herself didn’t understand. As if after finally seeing him, she’d received just that one sentence.

“Feng Yi, that child, is also not bad.”

So cold and indifferent, casual, maintaining a lofty elder’s position. This kind of affection chilled one to the teeth.

Hu Sha tossed and turned on the bed, feeling restless. Unable to endure it, she put her fingers in her mouth and bit lightly, asking herself: What’s wrong? What exactly do you want?

He was Master, an immortal. Besides that, what else could he be?

She didn’t know.

Before dawn, Hu Sha had a dream.

It was a brilliant dreamscape flowing with apricot blossom fragrance. Spring apricot blossoms covered his head—which family’s youth so elegantly carefree? He had gem-like eyes. The entire spring was hidden in those eyes.

Unable to help herself, she drew near gracefully, as if afraid of startling him. Through the bright red, tender apricot blossoms, she carefully looked at him.

Here, he wasn’t an immortal, wasn’t Master—just a young man encountered by chance on spring’s path.

She didn’t even dare blink, afraid one blink would make him disappear.

He turned his head back. Amid the bright white, tender red apricot blossoms, he smiled slightly and called her: Hu Sha.

Dawn broke. She awoke. A tear on her face.

Hu Sha stared blankly at the faintly brightening dawn outside. Ultimately she still couldn’t help but let out a long sigh.

When the sun was three poles high, Feng Di came—expression cold yet covered in sweat. He’d probably spent considerable effort finding this place too.

“Let’s go.” He only said two words before hurriedly dragging Hu Sha to mount clouds and fly away.

After such tossing about, by the time they reached Fang Zhun’s courtyard, he was already sleeping in bed waiting. Feng Di’s face turned green-blue as he knelt down, saying gravely, “This disciple missed the appointed time! Please punish me, Master!”

Fang Zhun yawned, rubbed his eyes and got up murmuring, “Punish what? Let’s go quickly. Latecomers must drink five penalty cups.”

He slowly walked to Hu Sha’s side, raised his hand to tidy the disheveled hair by her ear, saying gently, “Your hair is all messy.”

Hu Sha felt her heart contract sharply. She involuntarily lowered her head, her face burning fiercely.

Though Taoyuan Mountain had suffered one heavy blow from Taowu, they didn’t wish to show weakness to others. Therefore, not one invitation sent out was recalled. Today at Jingluan Palace, the scattered immortals who came numbered at least several dozen if not a hundred, gathered in threes and twos in the garden, conversing happily.

As soon as Fang Zhun entered, many scattered immortals surrounded him smiling, saying repeatedly, “Now you’re late—the latest one! Come, come, come—five penalty cups!”

Someone had already poured five cups of wine with a white jade pot and handed them over. Fang Zhun accepted without refusing, drinking them all in one breath. Turning the last cup upside down and pinching it between his fingers, he smiled, “Now you can’t blame me, right? It’s just been so long since we’ve met. Your playful natures haven’t changed. Seeing you is actually quite endearing.”

Everyone laughed boisterously, “The most playful one is standing right here, and he still has the nerve to call others playful!”

Because Feng Yi was injured yesterday and couldn’t go out, only Hu Sha and Feng Di came this time. As disciples not yet having achieved immortality, they could only stand in a corner like other disciples.

Fortunately, this garden’s scenery was exquisite. Though called Jingluan Palace, it wasn’t a palace but a garden. Inside, all four seasons’ beautiful scenery could be seen. On this side cherry blossoms still flew. Opposite, red leaves already danced wildly. Turn another corner—there was white snow everywhere with cold plum blossom fragrance.

Hu Sha walked around the garden. One moment grabbing white snow to make snowballs, the next picking up red leaves to put in her pouch as bookmarks—playing quite happily by herself.

Suddenly she heard someone announce loudly from behind, “Xiaoyao Hall—Qingling Zhenjun arrives—”

Hu Sha was like being struck by heavenly lightning, nearly jumping up. She hurriedly turned around and saw an old immortal with white hair and beard wearing a blue robe descending gracefully, two porcelain-adorned young Daoist boys following behind. That appearance, that manner—exactly the same as in the painting. It really was him!

Hu Sha lifted her feet to rush over but Fang Zhun grabbed her wrist, “Don’t go now!”

She was anxious, excited, yet also had inexplicable fear—as if alternately doused with ice water and hot water. She felt her whole body trembling, unable to calm down.

Fang Zhun comfortingly pressed both hands on her shoulders, saying lightly, “Good girl, calm down. Don’t be impulsive now.”

This Qingling Zhenjun seemed to have great prestige and very senior qualifications. All the scattered immortals went over to greet him, attitudes quite respectful. Fang Zhun clasped his fists across the distance, nodding in acknowledgment. Seeing Hu Sha’s face deathly pale, he couldn’t help saying again, “He’s a Zhenjun—naturally extraordinary. You mustn’t be disrespectful. You must be respectful and careful.”

Hu Sha felt his voice was extremely far away in the distant heavens, unable to hear clearly at all. Her eyes held only that white-bearded old man.

She stared fixedly at him smiling and talking with everyone. Stared fixedly at him looking toward here. Stared fixedly at him walking this way—her knees could barely support her. She wished she could immediately kneel before him, begging his forgiveness, begging him to send her home.

Qingling Zhenjun walked right up to Fang Zhun, saying with a smile, “Brother Fang Zhun, many years no see. Are you well? That old coughing ailment—is it better?”

Fang Zhun smiled, “Thank you for Zhenjun’s concern. I’m much better than before.”

Qingling Zhenjun looked at Hu Sha beside him whose face was deathly pale. His eyes moved slightly as he said again, “Could this young lady be Fang Zhun’s new disciple? She looks very unfamiliar.”

Fang Zhun gently pushed Hu Sha, “Bow to Zhenjun.” But his hand pinched her wrist underneath.

Hu Sha limply knelt down, saying tremulously, “Disciple Hu Sha… greets Qingling Zhenjun!”

He laughingly helped her up, praising, “Fang Zhun’s disciples are indeed extraordinary—enviable. This old man remembers you have two male disciples, one called Feng Di, one called Feng Yi. Didn’t they come today?”

Feng Di hurried over to kowtow, “Disciple Feng Di greets Qingling Zhenjun! Disciple’s martial brother is slightly indisposed, so he couldn’t come today. This disciple apologizes to Zhenjun on martial brother’s behalf.”

“No matter, no matter. Rise quickly.” Qingling Zhenjun helped Feng Di up, also praised him awhile, then praised the absent Feng Yi awhile before walking hand-in-hand with Fang Zhun to formally take seats with the immortal families.

Feng Di walked to Hu Sha’s side. Seeing her face extremely unwell, he couldn’t help saying in a low voice, “Hu Sha, are you feeling unwell?”

She slowly shook her head, saying nothing.

After three rounds of tea, the Immortal Arts Convention began. Several scattered immortals took turns going up to speak eloquently—not much different from daily lectures at Qingyuan. The more Hu Sha listened, the more irritable she became. She simply turned and walked into the maple grove, pondering how to apologize to Qingling Zhenjun.

She didn’t know how much time passed. Waves of laughter came from behind—clearly the immortal arts exchange had finished and the immortals had begun chatting and laughing again. Someone held an ice-blue pipa, strumming spiritedly like flowing water. Halfway through playing, he began singing loudly, attracting many luan birds and immortal cranes from the sky to fly down and dance to the rhythm.

Hu Sha looked around trying to find Qingling Zhenjun. Suddenly she saw a corner of blue robe flash past in the maple grove. She hurriedly chased into the deep maple grove. From afar she saw him leaning against a tree, motionless. Hu Sha’s heart jumped wildly. She slowly walked over and fell to her knees with a “thud” before him.

“This lowly one… this lowly Hu Sha greets Qingling Zhenjun…” Her voice trembled.

Qingling Zhenjun glanced at her lightly, turned and departed gracefully. Hu Sha hurriedly stood to chase. Suddenly she heard a Daoist boy beside him scold, “Presumptuous! Who gave you permission to gaze at Zhenjun so disrespectfully?”

She hurriedly lowered her head, saying brokenly, “I… this lowly one doesn’t dare… this lowly one offended Zhenjun… only begging Zhenjun’s forgiveness!”

The Daoist boy said coldly, “Mortals who offend immortals can only be sent to hell. How can there be forgiveness? Since you knew this day would come, why do it in the first place?”

Hu Sha said tremulously, “This lowly one… has already died once. But since Zhenjun sent this lowly one to this realm, he must be compassionate and merciful… This lowly one sincerely admits guilt, begging the immortal’s forgiveness!”

The Daoist boy’s voice softened slightly, “Seeing you’re young and ignorant, Zhenjun also feels pity. However, having glimpsed Zhenjun’s immortal form is greatly improper—absolutely not easily forgiven. You say you’re sincere—but where is this sincerity?”

Hu Sha was stunned for a long while before saying softly, “This… this lowly one doesn’t understand. Still begging the immortal to enlighten me…”

The Daoist boy said lightly, “Within the ten continents within the seas are many divine relics left by celestial gods. Go and retrieve the Water Willow Qin and deliver it to Zhenjun. Zhenjun will naturally feel your sincerity and send you home.”

Hu Sha was completely confused, murmuring, “But… I… how can I…”

“Divine relics rarely come in complete sets of metal, wood, water, fire, earth. The Golden Pipa has now been stolen by others—whereabouts unknown. The remaining Wood Bright Bell, Earth Weir Drum, and Fire Control Flute are all lost. Only Yingzhou’s Water Willow Qin sits in the wilderness, guarded by demon beasts—no one can approach. If you can retrieve the Water Willow Qin, Zhenjun will naturally grant your wish.”

Hu Sha was silent for a long time before suddenly speaking, “What does Zhenjun want divine relics for? Zhenjun is an immortal—even he cannot obtain the Water Willow Qin. I’m merely a mortal—even less possible to get it… This… how could I possibly accomplish this?”

He was simply demanding the impossible!

The Daoist boy said sternly, “Presumptuous! When has it been your turn to question Zhenjun’s actions? This is a trial given to you, yet you suspect Zhenjun has selfish motives—simply obstinate!”

Hu Sha lowered her head without speaking.

The maple grove fell into a strange, stagnant atmosphere.

Outside the maple grove came waves of laughter—carefree and content. Hu Sha felt she existed in two different worlds from them. Just now she’d been enjoying the immortals’ carefree leisure. Now she felt tormented.

Someone was cheering, saying repeatedly, “Fang Zhun, give us one! Many years without hearing you sing—today being able to hear would truly be a miracle! Speaking of which, where is Qingling Zhenjun? Could he have left already?”

Everyone laughed and chatted again, seemingly not caring who stayed or left.

After a while, the pipa outside rang out again, twisting strings urgently and fiercely. Hu Sha’s heart stirred. She couldn’t help but turn back to look. From afar, Fang Zhun in white robes, holding that ice-blue pipa, half-reclined on blue stone, long hair trailing on the ground. Across the flame-like maple grove, he was like an elegant cloud.

This was more than just a painting.

Hu Sha’s heart didn’t know what flavor it held.

He began singing, “Three thousand worlds, all beings wield weapons. Flower souls turn to ash, white bones become mist. River waters flow freely, red leaves dance wildly.”

His voice was seductive yet fierce, expansive yet lingering—making hearts palpitate.

Hu Sha stared blankly at him. In the grove, maple leaves染red like fire, dancing wildly with the wind—each leaf like a drop of fresh blood. In that instant, the entire world seemed to quiet.

The Daoist boy sneered coldly, “Fang Zhun is already an immortal. Don’t harbor vain thoughts.”

Hu Sha said urgently, “I’m not!”

The Daoist boy said coldly, “Though the ten continents within the seas don’t forbid immortals from marrying and having children, they forbid immortals from mingling with mortals. If you harbor vain thoughts, it’s an offense. Offense means another death sentence. Think clearly.”

She became even more anxious, “I… I’m not!”

The Daoist boy paid her no mind and continued, “I know what you’re thinking—would rather stay and spend a lifetime with him at Qingyuan. But you’d better remember—Zhenjun could pull you from the underworld and send you here. Naturally he also has ways to send you back to hell to never be reborn. Be cautious!”

Hu Sha’s heart suddenly sank heavily. She could no longer care about being presumptuous or not. She raised her head and stared at him tightly.

The Daoist boy showed a trace of smile, “Long ago there was also a young person who offended Zhenjun. Zhenjun, compassionate and merciful, couldn’t bear for him to fall into hell at such a young age. He brought him to the ten continents within the seas, carefully taught him, even had him enter an immortal mountain sect, hoping he’d turn back. Unfortunately, this person was greatly disobedient, disrespectful of heaven and earth, actually degenerating into the demonic path. Those who fall into the demonic path turn to ash and smoke after death, never entering reincarnation. You’d best not be like him.”

Hu Sha said nothing.

The Daoist boy said in a low voice, “Zhenjun gives you five years to retrieve the Water Willow Qin, then go to Xiaoyao Hall on Xiaoyao Mountain of Xuanzhou. Zhenjun will grant your wish! Remember—this is Zhenjun’s trial for you. Besides yourself, you must not tell anyone. Otherwise, Zhenjun will immediately send you to hell, making your soul scatter!”

Having spoken, he turned and left, walking all the way to distant Qingling Zhenjun’s side. The three figures gradually transformed into green smoke, disappearing in the maple grove’s depths.

Hu Sha stood blankly in the maple grove for a long time. Outside, Fang Zhun’s singing voice still circled, “River waters flow freely, red leaves dance wildly…”

She suddenly shivered, as if just becoming aware of something important. She couldn’t help but raise her hand toward the pouch at her bosom, where several black silk threads were hidden inside.

For a moment she felt dizzy and about to faint. For another moment she felt bewildered and lost, cold to the bone.

All the way back to her guest room, Hu Sha hadn’t said a single word—just wooden and dull, her spirit flying who knows where in the heavens.

Feng Di saw her like this and only thought she felt unwell. After sending her back to the guest room and comforting her with a few words, he left.

When the sky was nearly dark, someone came knocking. Hu Sha had been sitting blankly by the bed the whole time, actually didn’t hear it. Not until the door was opened did she suddenly realize, staring blankly toward the entrance.

Fang Zhun.

He held a lilac-colored pouch in his hand, leaning against the door looking at her. That pouch looked heavy. He tossed it twice and smiled, “Last time Master promised to take you out for good food. Because of sudden incidents, I couldn’t treat you. This time I’m making up for it. Why aren’t you coming with Master?”

Hu Sha was silent for quite a while before saying in a low voice, “Master… why must you use treating as an excuse to probe? Last time too… Why not speak directly if you have something to say? I’m not a child who becomes happy with a little benefit.”

Fang Zhun’s expression was extremely innocent, “Is Master really that despicable in Hu Sha’s heart?”

Hu Sha took a breath, “No! What I mean is… Master, actually you already knew, right? Perhaps when you heard I was from Jiaxing you knew! That day when you said those things to me, you didn’t tell me! I… Qingling Zhenjun, he…”

Fang Zhun said nothing, only taking the pouch’s string in hand and winding it in circles—one circle, two circles, three circles. He suddenly said in a low voice, “Regardless of whether Master told you or not, the final result would be the same. Since that’s the case, why not live happily for some days first? The more things you know in advance, the less happy you’ll be.”

Hu Sha’s eyes couldn’t help but redden. She said tremulously, “Not the same! How could it be the same…”

“You think Master, upon meeting you at the mountain’s foot and learning you weren’t from the ten continents within the seas, should have immediately told you about Qingling Zhenjun? Then you wouldn’t have wasted all this time at Qingyuan, right?”

His tone was gentle yet the question was sharp.

“Of course…” Halfway through speaking, Hu Sha suddenly choked up. What should she say? Yes, she indeed wasted time? This month-plus of time was like passing clouds to her—discarded without feeling?

She couldn’t continue. Finally she sat dejectedly on the bed’s edge, distractedly wringing her hands.

Fang Zhun scooped her up and smiled, “Why sit here dryly? Come walk with Master!”

Before Hu Sha could refuse, she was swept away by him like a gust of wind.

Though immortals ordinarily don’t eat, that doesn’t mean they can’t eat.

Fang Zhun gazed into the distance leaning by the window, before him a jar of Pear Blossom Wine and a dish of fresh lotus root slices—eating elegantly. Before Hu Sha was all meat. Braised pork, stir-fried pork, roast meat, clay pot pork… Looking at it, she had no appetite. After eating two pieces, she sat there spacing out.

“Eh? Not to your taste?” Fang Zhun found it strange.

Hu Sha looked glumly at the wine jar before him, saying in a low voice, “Master, is wine good to drink?”

Fang Zhun’s eyebrow jumped, “The taste isn’t bad. Want a cup?”

“…Will I get drunk?”

“If you get drunk, Master is here.”

He poured her a large cup and smiled, “They often say drinking drowns sorrows. If you have worries, coming to drink wine can’t be wrong.”

Hu Sha drank it all in one gulp without a word. She felt like she’d swallowed a mass of cold stuff. When it reached her stomach, it suddenly burned up. The flames burned all the way to her throat. Her complexion immediately changed. She looked at Fang Zhun as if seeking rescue, using her eyes to signal him to quickly give her a cup of water.

Fang Zhun laughed softly with a “chi.” One hand propped up his chin. The other hand most naturally poured her another cup, saying lightly, “Never thought you’d be so forthright drinking wine. Have another cup.”

After Hu Sha drank two cups, before long she felt her heart beating very fast. Things before her eyes began spinning slightly. By the time she grabbed the cup again, she could no longer distinguish whether it was wine or water—only feeling drinking it was very comfortable. That mass of stuffiness blocking her chest had somehow disappeared.

“Master… why didn’t you tell me earlier?” She gloomily clutched the wine cup, murmuring the question.

Fang Zhun said lightly, “Then you first tell Master what exactly Qingling Zhenjun demanded of you.”

Hu Sha shook her head. Probably drunk, her emotions somewhat out of control, her mouth turned down about to cry, “…I can’t say! I’ll go to hell!”

“With Master here, how could you go to hell?” His voice sounded extremely gentle.

Hu Sha held her head. Her head was dizzy. Things before her eyes seemed a bit blurred. She muttered, “But… clearly earlier you said he’s a Zhenjun, extraordinary… Master, you’re only a Zhenren. Zhenren and Zhenjun… the latter sounds more imposing. I… in any case, listening to him isn’t wrong.”

Fang Zhun couldn’t help but laugh.

“If you won’t say, then let Master guess.” He placed the wine cup by his lips—seeming to drink yet not, seeming to smile yet not. “He told you to retrieve one of the complete set of metal, wood, water, fire, earth divine relics, and set a ten-year time limit. Did Master say anything wrong?”

With a clang, the cup in Hu Sha’s hand crashed on the table. In excitement she tried to jump up but her feet were unsteady. She fell straight backward. Fang Zhun only managed to grab one of her small braids, pulling her hair ribbon loose. Both laughing and annoyed, he quickly went to support her. But Hu Sha lay on the ground, tearful eyes brimming, murmuring, “Not ten years—five years! He… he’s actually biased?”

How was this related to bias? Fang Zhun shook his head, pulled her up and placed her on a chair. Feeling her whole body soft and boneless—clearly without bones—she swayed slightly before collapsing on the table, dead drunk.

Fang Zhun sighed, “How can you be drunk after just two cups?”

Hu Sha’s face was flushed, eyes closed muttering who knows what. Suddenly she raised her head, gaze burning, staring at his face, saying in a low voice, “You… how did you know? Could Master also be…” transported here?

Fang Zhun said, “Hu Sha, you’re not the first mortal from beyond the seas to come to the ten continents within the seas. You probably won’t be the last either. Just among those Master knows, there are two others in the same situation as you.”

Hu Sha immediately became excited, forcefully grabbing his hand, saying repeatedly, “Who else? Who else? Do I know them?”

Fang Zhun thought, then ultimately shook his head, only saying, “Many years no see. Now their whereabouts are also uncertain.”

So there were others as unlucky as her. Thinking of this, Hu Sha’s heart didn’t feel so miserable. The saying goes—having someone accompany you in misfortune is always better than being miserable alone. Though this thought wasn’t very upright, it was human nature.

She was drunk as mud, hugging the wine jar on the table, crying one moment, laughing the next. Fang Zhun seemed to keep talking opposite her. She heard it intermittently—vaguely catching words like “doubted Qingling Zhenjun’s matter for a long time,” “collecting divine relics,” “secretly investigating,” “handling,” and such. But she couldn’t react. Her brain was like paste—chaotic.

Finally, he stopped talking and half-leaned by the carved flower window, watching people come and go below.

Hu Sha stared blankly at his exquisite face, murmuring, “What should I do?” As if asking herself—asking so helplessly, so hopelessly.

He turned his head back and said, “Don’t go! Just stay at Qingyuan. Qingling Zhenjun’s matter—just pretend it never happened. With Master here, you needn’t fear anything.”

Hu Sha seemed not to hear, only staring at him stupidly. After a long while, she murmured, “But… I must go home… There’s still a gorgeous husband waiting for me to marry… Father, Mother… I can’t bear to leave them either…”

He said softly, “Life always involves loss and gain. Staying at Qingyuan, becoming a carefree immortal, marrying an even more gorgeous husband—wouldn’t that be better?”

Hu Sha said nothing.

In her heart was an impulse, borrowing the force of drunkenness, about to burst forth. Yet ultimately it didn’t emerge. She didn’t dare. She could only look at him—look at his soft, pitch-black long hair, his peach-blossom-dewed appearance, his jewel-radiant eyes, finally reaching his fair, slender fingertips.

Very beautiful. She said in her heart.

A beauty that could intoxicate a young girl’s heart.

When did she start seeing him in her eyes? She couldn’t remember either. Meeting him, acknowledging him as master—he hadn’t really taught her anything, yet she somehow had a kind of trust. Seeing him, all restlessness and panic instantly vanished.

At first she thought he was very old, like a great-grandfather. Later she felt he was very affectionate, like an uncle. Later still, she felt he was mischievous, like a brother…

By now, she didn’t know what he resembled anymore.

Master, Master, Master… silently repeating these two characters in her heart thousands of times, as if reminding herself. One moment feeling he was very good as master, the next moment feeling how good it would be if he weren’t.

Better to go back! If she was merely bewitched by beauty, the husband arranged at home was also quite handsome. No guarantee she wouldn’t transfer her affections. What use staying here? Becoming immortal or celestial god—he’d still be her master. What meaning was there? Once lifespan lengthened, this depression would also lengthen. Living unhappily for such long years—better to be a straightforward mortal.

Before, secretly reading so-called forbidden books behind her parents’ backs, the books said if you truly liked someone, you didn’t need to be with them. Just being able to see them, silently accompany them, watch them live well—that was satisfaction.

But I don’t want that, Hu Sha silently told herself in her heart.

“Hu Sha, you’re drunk.” A pleasant voice spoke close to her ear, breath warm and fragrant.

Hu Sha lifted her heavy head, confusedly turning toward the source of sound. Her cheek touched something soft and moist. That person seemed also startled, quickly moving away. She instinctively raised her sleeve to wipe, frowning and glaring at him, “You… what are you doing?”

Fang Zhun supported her under the ribs, half-dragging half-carrying her down from the tavern, attracting attention from all around.

Hu Sha was drunk beyond reason, completely unable to recognize who he was. Wanting to struggle but her limbs drunk and disobedient, she could only glare with feigned fierceness, using her eyes to intimidate him, “Who are you?”

Fang Zhun saw her this drunk. Afraid that mounting clouds and flying after might accidentally let go and truly smash her into a meat pancake, he had to half-lift her back and slowly walk forward.

Night deepened. The evening breeze became slightly cool, somewhat blowing away the surging heat on Hu Sha’s face. She slowly blinked, staring blankly at Fang Zhun without moving.

After a long while, she suddenly reached out to touch his cheek, carefully rubbing up and down while murmuring, “So beautiful… Who are you?”

Fang Zhun also didn’t move, letting her touch, saying lightly, “What do you think?”

Hu Sha racked her brains thinking for a long time. Finally, understanding dawned with a smile, “You… aren’t you that husband in the painting? How did you… run down from the painting?”

Fang Zhun sighed. Drunk people either spoke little or talked excessively. Seems she belonged to the latter.

Engaging a drunk in conversation was the most self-tormenting behavior. He didn’t speak, letting her mutter in confusion, “How did you just run down from the painting? Are you human or ghost? I… I must tell Father and Mother. He ran down—where will he live?”

Looking at this situation, letting her stay drunk, she wouldn’t reach Taoyuan Mountain even by dawn. Fang Zhun pinched her nape, pressing slightly hard. Hu Sha felt darkness before her eyes, immediately collapsing soft as she fell unconscious.

He tucked her under his arm like carrying a sack of rice, found a secluded place to mount clouds, and flew straight to Taoyuan Mountain.

The disciples in the courtyard had all fallen asleep. No one cared where Hu Sha had run off to.

Fang Zhun pushed open the door, gently placed Hu Sha on the bed, covered her with blankets, then suddenly straightened his body and said lightly, “Come out. You’ve been hiding and following us since earlier. What’s your intention?”

The room was utterly silent. Moreover, pitch-black—couldn’t see half a person. Fang Zhun waited awhile, couldn’t help but smile slightly. Suddenly his hand shot out like lightning, grabbing toward the window.