Pei Chen found it absurd.
His past days could be described as smooth sailing; he came from a well-off family and, due to his high aptitude, was accepted into Tianwaitian, a prestigious sect. He was diligent and patient, quickly rising to prominence within the sect, celebrated as a shining star and a model for his peers.
When he first entered the sect, he wasn’t actually a disciple of Nan Shuang but was recorded under another’s name along with many other disciples. Nan Shuang was not one to stay put; she spent very few days in the sect throughout the year. Initially, Pei Chen only heard a few whispers about the legendary Frostfall Monarch and had only a vague impression of her without having seen her even once.
If one were to speak of the cause, it was during a grand competition within the sect when Nan Shuang suddenly appeared midway through the contest. She watched for a while from the audience, then pointed at him with a smile and said, “Does this one have a master? I wish to take him as my disciple.”
Pei Chen looked over at her, and from that moment on, he could never tear his gaze away.
It was the first time in many years that the Frostfall Monarch had spoken up to take a disciple. Even though it was against protocol, the sect acquiesced. Pei Chen’s sudden favoritism from Nan Shuang brought him considerable attention, elevating his status and reputation. Yet none of this affected him; he was busy coping with Nan Shuang’s sometimes strict and sometimes whimsical teachings, and his originally orderly life was thrown into chaos. He could never muster the courage to refuse her; he silently endured it all, as if swept along by the tides of her whims.
It had always been like this; he had never had the power to refuse from the very beginning.
Nor did he have that notion.
To this day, Pei Chen couldn’t remember when those unmentionable feelings had begun to surface. It was just one day when he suddenly realized that Nan Shuang’s presence had become too intense for him. He had struggled against it; he tried to distance himself and return to the life constrained by rules and rituals. His elders praised him for not being arrogant or impetuous, but only he knew, in the solitude of the night, what feelings had truly taken root in his heart.
Young love is the hardest to endure. The more one tries to let go, the tighter the grip. And that person always remained so nonchalant. Pei Chen felt as if he were sinking in quicksand, each day living like he was drinking poison to quench his thirst. The first time he dared to call her “A-Shuang,” his voice trembled uncontrollably, yet Nan Shuang remained unfazed, responding in her usual calm manner, like a silent acquiescence.
It seemed they had shared an unspoken understanding during their time together in the strict confines of Tianwaitian. Even without spoken words, Pei Chen believed… he believed this was love.
But now… what was this scene before him?
Through the gaps in the vines, the person he had cherished for so many years, the one he had gone to great lengths to pursue despite his selfish deeds, was right there. She was kissing someone else, completely unconcerned, her gaze focused and gentle, holding only the figure of a flower spirit in her embrace.
What was this? What did it mean?
A demon, merely a demon, why should it… why should it—
Inescapable negative emotions piled up like sludge in his gut, bubbling with murky feelings, soon swelling throughout his body. Before Pei Chen realized it, he had fallen into eternal darkness.
His vision rapidly faded to black, the last image etched in his mind being the profile of Nan Shuang, calm and oblivious, not looking in his direction.
What happened afterward was all a blur to Pei Chen. When he regained consciousness, the sky had darkened. He opened his eyes to a pitch-black canopy, momentarily dazed, only to realize he was lying on the ground. Just as he attempted to sit up, a chill spread across his neck; a sword, sharp as a razor, pressed against him. Even when it sensed he had awakened, it merely shifted slightly, showing no intent to withdraw.
Pei Chen had no choice but to remain still. He turned his gaze in confusion, following the blade’s length upwards, and found a hand tightly gripping the hilt, clothed in white robes, and a delicate face of Yun Duan, devoid of expression.
At that moment, he couldn’t comprehend why Yun Duan had drawn her sword against him. His first thought was that the incident with Shang Can had been exposed. But before he could process that, he heard Yun Duan’s voice, weighed down more than usual: “…Kunyuan Jun,”
She paused, her jade-like brows furrowing slightly as if feeling some compassion, but she still quietly conveyed the truth: “You’ve fallen into demonic cultivation. We must… first return to Tianwaitian before making further plans.”
Pei Chen couldn’t understand her words; it sounded absurd coming from her, yet before he could even express his laughter, a panicked voice broke in: “Yun Zhongjun, he’s awake! Shouldn’t we tie him up quickly?”
The voice belonged to a disciple responsible for managing the affairs of Tianwaitian. Pei Chen was taken aback and instinctively shifted his gaze away.
He saw a group of cautious cultivators, each holding their weapons, looking tense and disheveled. The once flat terrain was now ravaged, pockmarked with craters and ruins, showcasing the aftermath of a fierce battle.
Pei Chen dully raised his hands in front of him, bloodstains vivid on his palms, evidently having just come out of a fierce battle, yet he couldn’t recall anything he had done.
How could this be?
Reluctant to accept the glaring truth before him, Pei Chen desperately searched for evidence to prove this wasn’t real. How could this be? How could he have fallen into demonic cultivation? Even if such uncontrollable, indiscriminate violence was characteristic of demonic cultivators, how could he possibly have become one? He had a heart of Dao! He had a heart of Dao!
When he thought of those two words, Pei Chen suddenly froze, staring blankly as he lifted his head. It seemed that Yun Duan had no intention of listening to anything he had to say. She quietly called upon the Qingyu disciples led by Chu Ming to restrain him, applying multiple seals to block his spiritual energy. Throughout this, Pei Chen remained still, like a puppet, subject to their manipulation.
Until he was made to stand up and stagger away from the scene of devastation, Pei Chen still couldn’t make sense of it all.
His heart of Dao… what was it?
Whether it was a hallucination or not, as he walked, a fleeting image of a woman flashed in his peripheral vision, wide sleeves and holding a whisk.
Pei Chen felt as if struck by lightning, suddenly spitting out a mouthful of blood.
Watching the cultivators escort Pei Chen away, Yun Duan remained where she stood, exhaling a long breath.
As the acting leader of Tianwaitian, she had unleashed her full power against him after he fell into demonic cultivation, but even then, she was cautious and expended considerable energy in the battle. She moved her somewhat weary wrist and silently sheathed the sword.
She didn’t accompany Pei Chen back to Tianwaitian. First, she felt he might prefer not to be seen in such a state, and second, there were still matters to attend to. Wan Shao stood beside her, sighing as she handed her a vial of elixir, mumbling about how it was a restorative and how to take it, her voice trailing off awkwardly before she whispered, “It seems they’ve arrived.”
Yun Duan raised her hand to rub her brow and turned to face the two figures approaching her leisurely.
After Pei Chen fell into demonic cultivation, everyone had been busy dealing with him, leaving Nan Shuang to the sidelines. It was unclear when she had brought Yuange away from the battlefield, but from the way their hands were clasped, it seemed they had already resolved their differences and had a long conversation.
Yun Duan’s gaze lingered on their hands for a moment before slowly rising. Yuange looked fine, her face displaying evident shyness and regret, clearly feeling sorry for the trouble caused since her departure. Nan Shuang, however, appeared unaffected, as if nothing had happened throughout this long day, still exuding her usual elegance as she nodded toward Yun Duan.
Yun Duan couldn’t pinpoint the source of the complex emotions welling up inside her. She closed her eyes as Yuange repeatedly apologized, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it would lead to so much trouble. If I had known, I would have left a note or something. I made you worry unnecessarily—”
“Enough, enough.” Before Yun Duan could respond, Wan Shao interrupted with irritation, “You should be grateful that Yun Zhongjun is skilled and didn’t suffer any losses while fighting Pei Chen. Otherwise, I would really have to deal with both of you…”
As she spoke, she extended her open palm and then silently clenched it into a fist, the implication of her threat evident. Even Yuange recognized her guilt, lowering her head and apologizing several more times.
In truth, if Yun Duan were to express herself, although today’s incident had started with Yuange, the one who bore more responsibility was—
“What’s wrong?” The Demon King she looked toward was seemingly oblivious, raising an eyebrow in confusion. After a moment, he displayed a look of sudden realization and laughed, “Rest assured, Yun Zhongjun, we’ll be leaving on our own soon, so we won’t follow you back to Yuncheng. We wouldn’t want to add to your troubles by being seen.”
“What’s wrong?” The Demon King, who had caught her gaze, seemed oblivious, raising an eyebrow in confusion. After a moment, he showed a look of sudden realization and smiled, “Rest assured, Yun Zhongjun, we’ll be leaving on our own shortly and won’t follow you back to Yuncheng, to avoid causing you any trouble if we’re seen.”
In truth, that wasn’t what occupied his mind. Yun Duan’s eyes flickered, and she silently nodded. She had never been one to interfere too much in others’ affairs, nor did she have the energy to engage in the current chaos. So, she took the nod as a farewell and turned to leave.
However, Nan Shuang stepped forward to block her path. Seeing Yun Duan’s cold gaze, she smiled and pointed to the side, saying, “Can we have a word in private?”
Yun Duan didn’t have a particularly good impression of Nan Shuang, so she felt somewhat wary. But Nan Shuang had lived many more years than she had and was skilled in persuasion; with just a simple statement, she managed to lead Yun Duan along.
“It’s about Shang Can.”
The two moved to a secluded spot, and while Yun Duan’s expression remained composed, she felt a growing unease. Her hands, hidden in her sleeves, instinctively clenched into fists.
Nan Shuang noticed Yun Duan’s demeanor and felt a mix of emotions. She decided not to hold back and spoke directly: “What I said before, trying to force you to give up, was all at Shang Can’s behest.”
Those few words struck Yun Duan like thunder, and she stood there dazed for a while before quickly looking at Nan Shuang. But before she could speak, Nan Shuang doused her hopes with cold water: “This isn’t a recent matter; it happened two years ago, around the time the passage to the Ghost Realm had just opened. She sent a paper crane over.”
“I don’t have that letter with me, as I never intended to tell you about this,” Nan Shuang said casually, leaning against a nearby wall. “But I’m in a good mood right now, and I did cause you some trouble, so I thought I should give you a heads-up.”
She discreetly observed the change in Yun Duan’s complexion, which had grown pale within moments, and continued, “To put it simply, the content of her letter said… if you haven’t given up in a few years, then she will need a villain.”
“The role assignment was quite smooth,” a mysterious smile appeared at the corner of Nan Shuang’s lips. “She said there was nothing to offer me as compensation, but I thought, helping her out would be fine since she was the one who opened the passage from the Ghost Realm. I should thank her for that.”
“I’ve said all I needed to say, and I advise you to—”
Before she could finish, Yun Duan raised her hand to interrupt, stepping back a few paces and coldly retorting, “Nonsense.”
Not pointing out the unsteady steps Yun Duan took, Nan Shuang smiled lightly and cast her gaze towards the distance.
“You saw what happened today.” Nan Shuang’s voice was calm, revealing a hint of detachment, “I think nobody wants to see Yun Zhongjun reach such a dead end.”
As she spoke, she lowered her gaze. Her flat statements pierced Yun Duan like an invisible blade: “Yun Zhongjun is a smart person; you should realize that when Shang Can wrote that letter, she had already prepared for not appearing before you again in the future.”
At this point, Nan Shuang felt she had said enough. She was genuinely in a good mood and didn’t intend to make Yun Duan feel worse than she already did.
Even though she had come here because of Shang Can’s words, Nan Shuang still didn’t understand Shang Can’s true intentions. She was someone who preferred to mind her own business, but she had a curiosity for fresh happenings, fleeting in her interests. As for the relationship between these two—
It didn’t even seem like something new. The pain of unrequited love could happen anywhere.
Who was she talking about?
Nan Shuang furrowed her brow, unsure if it was compassion that moved her, but before leaving, she still felt the need to say, “…In any case, Shang Can didn’t come to the Ghost Realm. I haven’t seen her.”
After saying this, she didn’t linger, leaving Yun Duan standing there, dazed.
A nameless bitterness rose in her throat. The sound of the wind seemed suddenly far away, as if all the distance and detachment of the world had crowded around Yun Duan, creating a disorienting sense of isolation.
When fresh snow falls, you don’t notice it; when the roads freeze, you don’t notice it.
But now, Yun Duan clearly realized that winter was truly this cold.
Comment