“From childhood until now, Mu’er has always been obedient. He has never done anything to displease me. He is also very strong — no matter how difficult and perilous the road ahead, he has never once known what despair is.”

Thinking of the way Mu Mu had been from childhood until now, Ye Luosha felt an ache in her heart — yet she was also filled with pride for having nurtured such an exceptional disciple.

“My Mu’er’s nature is tranquil and composed. No matter what he encounters, he is never anxious, never thrown into panic or confusion. He handles things with steady resolve — even if Mount Tai were to crumble before him, his expression would not change.”

Ye Luosha sighed softly. The more she dwelt on the past, the more she felt that the Mu’er of those days had been so extraordinary — like a deity untouched by the smoke and fire of the mortal world.

Mu’er was the very source of all her life’s hopes, and the pride of her entire life.

“And yet, all of that — in the end — was completely and irrevocably changed by your arrival.”

Even Ye Luosha herself did not know whether she was feeling resentment toward Feng Jiu’er in this moment, or whether it was simply that her heart could not accept it.

She had guided and shaped this disciple for so many years — a disciple who had once been so exceptional, like a deity. And yet because of a woman’s arrival, he had become utterly and completely mortal.

“He became capable of agitation because of you, capable of madness, capable of despair — emotions that had never existed in him before, because of you, came to exist in every form.”

Feng Jiu’er opened her eyes and looked at her coolly: “Is that not better? Do you truly wish for him to live his entire life without the seven emotions and six desires?”

“What is wrong with having none of the seven emotions and six desires? At least he would not go mad, would not betray, would not come to the state things are now.”

“And yet he would also have no happiness for his entire life, no joy, and as you yourself said — no sunshine.”

Though Feng Jiu’er’s words were light, they landed on Ye Luosha one by one, each one striking true.

No happiness, no joy, no sunshine — but at least, no betrayal and no sorrow. Was that not preferable?

She herself did not know whether her demands had been right or wrong. And in truth, Feng Jiu’er did not know either — whether her own judgement was good or bad.

The two of them once again fell into a kind of wordless silence. After some time had passed, Ye Luosha spoke in a quiet, drawn-out tone: “And yet he truly did betray all of us for your sake. In all his life, this was his one and only betrayal against us.”

“Now, he even wishes to die for you…”

“Ye Luosha — have you never once considered that Mu Mu’s wish to die is not solely because of me?”

Mu Mu’s feeling and devotion toward her — by now, Feng Jiu’er could see it clearly. But Ye Luosha still did not understand.

Many things accumulated little by little. Many things were not the work of a single morning or evening.

“In all the days he has spent at your side — in all his days as the Young Palace Mistress of Yemingong — when has there ever truly been a moment of genuine happiness?”

“I do not know what grudge you carry, but even I can feel it — that burden on his shoulders, pressing down on him until he cannot breathe with each passing day.”

“Has he ever been well? Have you ever truly cared? Or have you simply never once given thought to how he is doing?”

“Feng Jiu’er, you know nothing of this. That is the responsibility he was born to carry. You don’t understand it — you have no right to reproach me!”

Ye Luosha grew somewhat agitated, and the agitation brought on a violent fit of coughing.

Jiu’er said nothing more, only sat watching her quietly.

Over these past several days, Ye Luosha’s condition had been poor as well — taxed by channeling her energy, wounded in combat, struck by poison. In short, she had done nothing but sustain injury after injury.

After quite a while, Ye Luosha’s coughing finally subsided.

Jiu’er exhaled a faint, soft breath and spoke in an unhurried tone: “I don’t understand lofty principles. I only want to ask you one thing: in raising him and shaping who he is, was it truly for the sake of what you call responsibility — or was it to give him a better life?”

“What difference is there? As long as he fulfills his responsibility, his life will certainly be the most beautiful it can be.”

“Did you ever ask him? After fulfilling so-called responsibility — is that the life he wanted?”

Jiu’er did not wish to argue with her. She only felt, watching Mu Mu lying unconscious and unresponsive these past two days, a deep, persistent ache in her heart.

She had never imagined that the weight on his shoulders had already worn him down to this extent.

She still held Ye Luosha’s gaze, her own calm but sharp as a blade: “Or is that simply the life you wanted for yourself?”

Ye Luosha’s heart gave a violent lurch, her very core trembling fiercely in that instant.

Was it the life she wanted — or the life Mu’er had wanted? She had never thought of it that way. She had never considered it carefully — because from twenty years ago, all of this had seemed as though it had already been destined.

If not for what Mu Mu had done this time, she would never have stopped to think carefully about many things — because so many things had simply seemed natural and inevitable.

Jiu’er stood up. It was time to go administer the needles to Mu Mu.

But she had barely lifted her foot when, behind her, Ye Luosha’s cold, quiet voice drifted over: “Feng Jiu’er, in truth, you too are unsettled in your heart. There is no need to lay all the blame on me. In Mu’er’s wish to die this time — is there not also a share of your responsibility?”

Jiu’er’s steps paused for a beat, but she did not turn back.

Ye Luosha’s heart still held resentment. With Mu’er injured this gravely, how could she not?

“He exhausted himself until his hair turned white trying to save you. And now, it is also because of your cruel deception and distrust that his heart was shattered. If you had given him just a little more trust, if you had treated him with a genuine heart, how could things have come to this!”

Feng Jiu’er’s palm tightened silently. The face that bore no ripple concealed an ocean of unspoken grief.

After a long while, she said softly: “What I owe him, I know.”

She said nothing more to Ye Luosha, and walked into the cave.

Inside, Ninth Imperial Uncle was still channeling his inner energy into Mu Mu. On his face, as serene and clear as an orchid in bloom, a faint sheen of perspiration had begun to surface.

Jiu’er walked over and opened the water pouch, then crouched down beside him: “Ninth Imperial Uncle, have some water first. Long Yi and Elder Shi are nearby looking for food — they should be back shortly.”

Zhan Qingcheng continued resting with his eyes closed. Though it was impossible to fall asleep while channeling one’s inner energy, being able to still his mind and rest quietly for a while was still beneficial for him.

Jiu’er brought the water pouch to his lips. Zhan Qingcheng parted his lips and drank several mouthfuls. Only once he was satisfied did Jiu’er cap the pouch and, taking his sleeve, gently wipe the faint perspiration from the corners of his brow.

Afterward, she put away the water pouch and took out the needle case to administer needles to Mu Mu.

Mu Mu’s wounds had begun to heal in the initial stages — the bleeding had stopped. However, the medicines she had on hand were nearly depleted, and she would need to replenish some.

Fortunately, there was no shortage of medical halls and apothecaries within the imperial city. If it truly came to a point where there was no other way, she would simply have to slip in and take a little.

After one round of needling, Mu Mu’s complexion remained unchanged — no visible improvement. But at least his breathing seemed to have grown more even than a moment ago.

Feng Jiu’er put the silver needles away and glanced at Zhan Qingcheng, who still had his eyes closed in rest: “Ninth Imperial Uncle, I’m going out to look for medicinal herbs in the area. When the food arrives, I’ll come back in to attend to you.”

She was just rising to leave when Zhan Qingcheng’s deep, star-bright eyes suddenly opened, fixing on her.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle?” This expression of his — was there something he wished to say? But why, then, did he look as though he had words on the tip of his tongue yet held them back?