On Tianyue Peak, the night mist thickened.
The winter fog, mixed with the essence of ice and snow, coated everyone’s brows and hair with a layer of frost, making the towering Tianyue Peak appear even more ethereal and hazy.
According to ancient legend, the Moon God, ancestor of the Yueluo Clan, descended from Tianyue Peak to the mortal world. To ensure his eventual return to the celestial realm, the heavenly deities left a natural stone bridge between two opposing cliffs separated by a deep gorge. Later generations named it the “Bridge of Ascension.”
The eastern peak, known as “Tianyue Peak,” could be ascended via a mountain path from Shanhai Valley. The western peak, with sheer cliffs on all sides, was only accessible from Tianyue Peak via the “Bridge of Ascension,” hence its name “Lonely Star Peak.”
Atop Lonely Star Peak was the Star Moon Cave, said to be the Moon God’s cultivation site after his descent. It had always been a sacred place for the Yueluo Clan, forbidden to all except the clan leader.
On this night, the mountain path of Tianyue Peak was crowded with Yueluo Clan members who had come to observe the ceremony. Of the nine Du Si (commanders), except for the Fifth Du Si who had fallen to the Star Moon Sect Leader’s sword, the remaining eight were all present. They surrounded the young clan leader and his birth mother, Wuya, seated on a high platform atop Tianyue Peak. The rest of the clan members were arranged in order of status down the mountain.
When Wei Zhao, dressed in white robes and wearing a mask, led the veiled Great and Lesser Holy Maidens along with several young girls out of the main enclosure towards the peak of Tianyue, the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers. As they passed, Yueluo Clan members prostrated themselves, praising the divine might of the Sect Leader.
Wei Zhao glided along the mountain path, his white robe glowing like jade in the firelight. He seemed no longer of this mortal world, but a descended deity, gazing down upon all living beings and the vast earth with solitary detachment.
After leaving the main enclosure, Jiang Ci covered her face with the blue gauze handed to her by Cheng Xiaoxiao. As she walked, she heard the sincere cheers and support for Wei Zhao from the Yueluo Clan members and saw many with tears streaming down their faces. She couldn’t help but gaze at the ethereal figure through the blue gauze, wondering: Could that person win such devotion from the people of Hua Dynasty?
As midnight approached, a cold crescent moon and a few lonely stars flickered in the sky.
The sound of horns resonated, deep and desolate, bringing silence to the entire mountain.
Da Du Si Hong Ye stood up. After a series of rapid drum beats, he raised his hand and proclaimed in a clear voice: “Moon God above, although our Yueluo Clan leader has fallen victim to treachery, he has returned to the celestial realm, which is the greatest honor for our clan. Now, we shall offer our blood to thank the deities. Let us all pray sincerely, may the Moon God forever bless our clan!”
He turned and presented a bowl of wine to the High Priest standing beneath the banner. The High Priest, face painted with elaborate designs, wearing a feathered crown and blue robe, and holding a long spear, began to chant and dance. After the dance, he took the rice wine from Da Du Si, drank it in one gulp, then suddenly leaned forward and spat the white wine onto the bonfire in front of the platform. The flames leaped up, shooting towards the night sky. From the peak to the foot of the mountain, tens of thousands of people shouted in unison, prostrating themselves on the ground.
Amidst the high and deep chanting, the coffin of the former clan leader, Mu Li, was slowly carried out. Eight muscular young men, their faces painted with colored oil, bare-chested, and wearing tiger skin skirts, carried the coffin. They trudged through the deep snow towards the misty “Bridge of Ascension.”
In the firelight, tens of thousands of eyes were fixed on the black coffin, and the “Bridge of Ascension” was shrouded in night mist.
As the eight young men reached the bridge, the High Priest sang out, and they stopped in unison, placing the coffin on the ground.
The High Priest’s voice, part song, part chant, soared to the clouds: “Summon the celestial clan leader!”
Da Du Si and Er Du Si stepped forward together, using their strength to push open the coffin lid. The young clan leaders Mu Feng and Wuya burst into loud sobs, falling to their knees in the snow, supported by several others.
Clan Leader Mu’s body had been preserved. The two Du Si lifted him from the coffin. Wrapped in a long white moon robe, his face appeared lifelike, only his eyes were wide open, gazing at the sky.
Those at the mountaintop could see clearly and began to wail in unison. The Yueluo Clan members along the mountain path joined in the lament. Jiang Ci, hearing the sorrow, wiped away a tear.
Da Du Si and Er Du Si, one carrying the shoulders and the other the legs, slowly carried Clan Leader Mu onto the “Bridge of Ascension.”
The cold wind grew stronger, causing the torches to flicker. The “Lonely Star Peak” opposite the “Bridge of Ascension” was dark and silent.
The cold starlight and moonlight disappeared into the clouds. A strong wind suddenly arose from somewhere, violently bursting the accumulated snow on the “Bridge of Ascension,” creating a huge cloud of snow mist.
As the snow mist rose, a cold wind also suddenly swept across the top of “Tianyue Peak,” raising a cloud of snow mist. Everyone squinted their eyes. They heard a brief cry of surprise and saw through the haze that Da Du Si Hong Ye, who was carrying the clan leader’s body, had fallen to one knee on the ground. His shoulder tilted, and Er Du Si, caught off guard, let the clan leader’s body slip. It seemed about to fall onto the snowy mist on the bridge.
Tens of thousands of people on the mountaintop and slopes cried out in alarm. Everyone regretted that the snow mist obscured their view. Seeing that the clan leader might not successfully descend into the valley, a wave of intense fear swept over them, as if they could already see the great calamity befalling the Yueluo Clan, dooming them to eternal suffering.
At that moment, another cold wind surged from “Lonely Star Peak,” intensifying the snow mist. All the firelights on “Tianyue Peak” dimmed for an instant. As people looked up, they saw through the hazy snow mist that Clan Leader Mu Li’s body, just as it was about to fall onto the bridge surface, suddenly rose into the air. Like a white shooting star, it traced an arc through the sky, disappearing into the black firmament on the other side of the “Bridge of Ascension.”
This scene happened so quickly that people only had time to blink before the clan leader’s body vanished. As they stared in astonishment, someone shouted, “The clan leader has ascended to heaven! The clan leader has returned to the celestial realm!”
This cry was like a spark falling into boiling oil; the entire “Tianyue Peak” erupted.
“The clan leader has ascended to heaven! The clan leader has returned to the celestial realm!”
“There is hope for our Yueluo Clan!”
“It truly is the Moon God descended! The Sect Leader is the Moon God reincarnated, come to save our clan!”
Cheers and prayers like thunder resounded across the snowy ground and mountain paths. The Yueluo Clan members bowed and prostrated themselves towards the “Bridge of Ascension” and the white figure standing proudly at the peak.
Wei Zhao’s ethereal figure stood at the head of the “Bridge of Ascension,” his gaze passing over Da Du Si Hong Ye, who smiled slightly. Wei Zhao then looked towards the dark depths opposite, slowly raising his hand. As the crowd fell silent, his cold yet passionate voice echoed through the mountains: “The clan leader has ascended to heaven. The Star Moon deity will bless our clan, freeing us from suffering and granting eternal peace!”
Danxue and Meiying, overjoyed, bowed down, tears streaming from their eyes. Jiang Ci did not bow. On the entire mountaintop, apart from the young clan leader and Wei Zhao, only she stood alone, her face veiled in blue gauze.
She gazed at the white figure, suddenly feeling that this person was like a fierce flame under the bright moon, igniting the hearts of tens of thousands of people, while also intensely burning himself.
With the appearance of the clan leader’s “ascension to heaven,” which had only existed in legends for hundreds of years, the Yueluo Clan was in a state of extreme excitement. The young clan leader Mu Feng’s ascension ceremony and the establishment ceremony of the “Holy Sect” concluded amidst cheers. Wei Zhao received the “Holy Seal,” symbolizing supreme authority, from the hands of the new clan leader Mu Feng, and gracefully descended the mountain.
Behind him, cheers and songs reached the sky. Wei Zhao’s lips curled slightly as he led Cheng Yingying and others back to the main enclosure. Jiang Ci returned to the “Snow Plum Courtyard” in the rear enclosure, accompanied by Danxue and Meiying.
Cheng Yingying turned to close the latticed door and bowed with Cheng Xiaoxiao: “Congratulations, Sect Leader!”
Wei Zhao said calmly, “I’ve told you, there’s no need for such formalities in front of me.”
Cheng Yingying lifted her veil, her dimples showing: “I wonder when Su Jun and the others will be able to come out of the cave.”
Cheng Xiaoxiao smiled, “They’ll have to wait until everyone from ‘Tianyue Peak’ has dispersed before they can come out.”
Wei Zhao nodded slightly: “Everyone did well, good coordination.”
As Cheng Yingying was about to speak again, Cheng Xiaoxiao pulled her away. The two bowed and left the room. Cheng Xiaoxiao whispered reproachfully, “Sister, don’t you understand? When the Sect Leader is polite with us, we shouldn’t linger in his presence.”
Wei Zhao sat down at the table, pondering several important matters.
Now that the “Sky Burial” had finally been completed, he, Su Jun, Su Yan, and Da Du Si Hong Ye had worked together to create the illusion of the clan leader “ascending to heaven” using snow mist and specially made “celestial silkworm spider silk.” This restored the clan members’ confidence, established the status of the Star Moon Sect as the “Holy Sect,” and solidified his image as the “Moon God descended.”
But how to face the severe situation that would follow, whether they could last until next spring, whether Pei Yan would fully cooperate with him, and whether that old fox would continue to be kept in the dark were all unknowns. It was necessary to gain control of the clan’s military power as soon as possible and make early arrangements.
The night deepened. Wei Zhao heard the cheers from “Tianyue Peak” gradually fade, knowing that the excited clan members were finally dispersing. His lips curled slightly: “Moon God descended? I wonder if I even have the qualifications to be that—”
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He quickly put on his mask: “Who is it?!”
A timid voice came through, which Wei Zhao recognized as Azhen, the personal maid of Wuya, the young clan leader Mu Feng’s birth mother: “Sect Leader, the Holy Mother requests your immediate presence.”
“What’s the matter?!”
“The young clan leader, no, the clan leader seems to have caught a chill. The situation doesn’t look good. The Holy Mother asks you to come and take a look, saying you—”
Wei Zhao opened the door and strode out, hurrying towards Shanhai Courtyard where Wuya and Mu Feng resided.
Arriving at the front hall of Shanhai Courtyard, Azhen bowed and said, “Sect Leader, the Holy Mother is in the back garden.”
Wei Zhao followed Azhen towards the back garden. It was now the end of the third watch (around 3 AM), and the entire Shanhai Courtyard was silent as they walked.
On the western side of the back garden was a warm pavilion. The bamboo curtain was lightly lifted, revealing a room lined with brocade rugs and filled with the warmth of charcoal fire. Azhen lifted the curtain, and Wei Zhao entered the pavilion to see Wuya sitting on a couch, dressed in crimson, smiling at him. As the curtain fell, a gentle breeze brought a faint, almost imperceptible fragrance of orchids and musk. This scent, entering his nostrils, was like warm spring water caressing his face, or like fiery wine sliding down his throat.
He turned to leave, but Wuya called out, “Wu Xia!”
Wei Zhao stopped, his back to Wuya, and said coldly, “Please address me as Sect Leader from now on!”
Wuya stood up and slowly walked behind Wei Zhao, tilting her face up and sighing softly, “Wu Xia, when the old Sect Leader mentioned you to me back then, he was full of joy. For so many years, I’ve always wondered when you would truly appear, letting me see why the old Sect Leader was so fond of you. Now that I’ve finally seen you, I can put my mind at ease.”
Wei Zhao remained silent. Wuya lowered her eyelids and said softly, “Now that the situation is settled, I can finally put down this heavy burden. Thinking of what the old Sect Leader said to me, in my heart—”
Wei Zhao turned around: “What did Master say?”
Wuya’s face bore a smile as sweet as honey, her voice as soft as water. She lowered her head and sighed, “The old Sect Leader once taught Wuya a song. He said that if one day the Sect Leader’s great cause was achieved, Wuya should play this song for you, as if he—”
Wei Zhao hesitated for a moment before returning to sit on the wooden couch, saying softly, “Since it’s Master’s song, please play it.”
Wuya moved with light steps, her smile enchanting, and sat down at the qin table. She plucked the twelve long strings of the Yueluo qin in sequence, singing softly: “Gazing at the falling moon, jade flowers bloom, blue wutong tree’s down flies. Spring breeze laughs at the many times, mountain passes in the second month of heaven, seems like mountains and seas always stay. Sighing at the heroic spirit, all hidden in heavy mist.”
Wei Zhao lowered his head, listening quietly. He vaguely remembered that years ago at “Jade Flower Manor,” his sister and master had played the qin and xiao under the moon, seemingly this very song. The qin’s melody in his ears was plaintive and sorrowful, the singing voice sticky and lingering. He gradually felt a bit dazed, the fragrance in the pavilion growing stronger. Deep in his heart, a tingling sensation seemed to brush past, making him shiver slightly.
This unfamiliar feeling made him somewhat uncomfortable. Just as he was about to move his legs, the qin’s melody became even more subdued, like water plants in spring waves, gently entangling his heart or like early summer wind, making him too lazy to move.
Wuya raised her eyes to look at Wei Zhao, her gaze somewhat misty. As the last notes of the qin faded away, she picked up a celadon cup and walked to Wei Zhao’s side, kneeling. She looked up, her charming face seeming to ooze moisture: “Wu Xia, I revere the old Sect Leader like a deity. Following his command, I’ve endured for so many years, longed for so many years, finally able to see you face to face, to serve you. If you pity sister Wuya’s years of patience, please drink this cup of wine.”
A flush rose to her face, but the hand holding the wine cup was as white as jade. The wine rippled, and as Wei Zhao looked down, he seemed to see his master’s face wavering on the surface of the wine.
He took the wine cup, sniffed it, then drank it all in one gulp. A burning sensation passed through his chest. Just as he put down the cup, Wuya’s delicate fingers were already caressing his chest.
Wei Zhao’s body stiffened as Wuya’s hand slipped inside his robe. Her slender fingers traced downward, and Wei Zhao felt that tingling sensation return. The fragrance from Wuya’s hair grew stronger in his nostrils, and before he could react, Wuya had pressed herself against him.
Her crimson robe had somehow slipped from her shoulders, blooming like a lush peony before Wei Zhao’s eyes. The delicate whiteness, the softness like flowing clouds, and the radiance like white jade, made Wei Zhao draw in a sharp breath. His hands instinctively pushed out, but Wuya twisted her waist, pressing her soft chest into his palms.
The warmth and softness in his hands gave him an innate sense of possession and control. Wei Zhao’s hands froze. As he lowered his head, the curves of her slender waist flashed before his eyes, unconsciously making him tilt his head back.
Wuya’s right hand traced down his abdomen, while her face gazed up at him, her soft tongue seemingly intentionally, yet unintentionally, licking her lips. The glow of the charcoal fire in the pavilion made the flush on her cheeks and the haziness in her eyes appear dreamlike. Her body seemed to tremble slightly, and faint moans escaped her throat—
Wei Zhao felt as if his palms were being scorched by fierce flames, his body burning. Wuya before him was like a pool of clear water that could dissolve this raging fire and calm the turmoil within him.
As Wuya’s hand continued downward, Wei Zhao involuntarily raised his head. His gaze swept over the Yueluo qin beside them, and his body jolted. Suddenly, he let out a roar, grabbed Wuya’s arms, and flung her onto the wooden couch. He spun around, burst through the curtain, and leaped into the snowy courtyard outside.
The snow beneath his feet and the wind against his face brought a piercing cold. Wei Zhao’s right arm trembled violently as he struck a snow-covered pine in the courtyard. The accumulated snow on the branches fell in a flurry, creating a misty snowstorm. He whirled through the snow mist several times before disappearing over the wall of the back garden.
In the cold night wind, Wei Zhao ran back to his residence, the “Sword Fire Pavilion.” His limbs were stiff as if frozen in ice, yet from his chest downward, a fierce fire raged, like a sword being tempered, emitting wisps of smoke.
Everything around him gradually faded. Before his eyes, that glimpse of soft whiteness reappeared; his palms seemed to still retain that warmth, and his heart still fluttered with that lightness. For over a decade, he had only known how to endure humiliation and suppress his emotions, never realizing that there was a gentleness in the world that he would willingly control, long to indulge in, and desire to conquer.
He kept striking the accumulated snow in the courtyard, his vision blurred. He could neither see the landscape behind the swirling snow nor discern this unfamiliar crossroads in life.
Snowflakes slowly covered his black hair and mask as he knelt in the snow, shaking violently.
In the sky, the lonely stars and cold moon gazed down at him indifferently. His mind was blank and chaotic, yet a desire he had never experienced and could hardly describe was burning fiercely in his chest, scorching like a raging fire, yet dangerous like a venomous snake—