The bright sun shines, and the bustling breeze brings a refreshing joy, like a maiden’s perfectly timed massage soothing weary nerves.
In the small bamboo courtyard, Mu Zhonghua carefully tends to several pots of orchids at the door, watering them with a bamboo ladle filled with morning dew collected by her orders, her delicate hands gently brushing the newly sprouted buds, a strange sensation flowing through her body like water.
Aside from playing with cats, killing, or teasing Linghuang, the Black Lotus Witch rarely feels such happiness.
She focuses intently on nourishing the nearly sentient orchid before her with spiritual energy, thinking to herself that her disciple should arrive soon, with the wedding dress and dowry already prepared long ago.
As Mu Zhonghua sets down the bamboo ladle, hurried footsteps echo from outside the courtyard.
Without needing permission, only a few powerful elders or her world’s most adorable disciple could enter this place.
The next moment, the Red Lotus Saintess, dressed in a flowing snow-and-plum qipao, steps gracefully into the courtyard, her long, jade-like legs shimmering in black silk, the soft flesh and stockings entwined perfectly—neither too thin nor too plump, utterly captivating, making it hard to look away.
“Disciple Su Linghuang pays respects to Master.”
The usually lofty Saintess kneels on one knee, expressing loyalty and devotion to the sect leader, her ruby lips trembling slightly, betraying the unease deep within her heart.
“Linghuang, you’re here. Your master has been waiting a bit impatiently. What do you think of your future husband?”
“Master, that Gu Shenzhi is completely different from the rumors. His cultivation has reached the late Core Formation stage, and barring any surprises, his Golden Core is likely a flawless, top-grade one. His swordsmanship, sword aura, and sword heart have all reached perfection. I also believe his eyes aren’t blind; they’re likely heterochromatic by birth. Moreover, his temperament is resolute, cautious, and he’s a cunning man who hides a dagger behind his smile. If…”
“Stop, stop, stop!”
Mu Zhonghua raises a hand to interrupt Su Linghuang’s torrent of reports.
“I don’t want to hear all that. I just want to know if you like him.”
In an instant, a flush of red spreads across Su Linghuang’s cheeks, hot enough to steam, and the once-eloquent Red Lotus Saintess turns shy and hesitant.
“He… he’s not exactly dislikeable.”
“So, you like him?”
“I don’t like him, not one bit!”
Su Linghuang shouts, her starry eyes fixed on Mu Zhonghua, yet not daring to meet her gaze directly, a trace of guilt lingering.
“Linghuang, when was the last time you praised a peer like this? That Blood Saber Sect’s holy son had a Tyrant Body, and you only nodded slightly before defeating him in ten moves.”
“Young Master Gu… no, the young lord of the Spirit Sword Sect is indeed exceptionally gifted. I can only look up to him. I’m just stating the truth, nothing about liking or disliking.”
Thud.
The Red Lotus Saintess speaks timidly, her pale hands clasped behind her back, fidgeting, looking utterly bashful.
“You don’t like him, Linghuang? If that’s the case, how can we let such a monstrous cultivation genius live? Today, your master will send him to the Yellow Springs.”
In an instant, the pressure of the Spirit Transformation realm erupts, the accompanying gusts so intense that Su Linghuang can’t open her eyes, barely able to raise her hands to resist.
Death and eerie energy intertwine around Mu Zhonghua, the lethal aura sending chills down the spine.
Even with her breathtaking beauty, it’s enough to make one不敢直视.
“Master! Please give your disciple a chance. I will persuade Gu Shenzhi to serve the Moon Shadow Sect. Can you spare his life?”
Su Linghuang drops to both knees, uncharacteristically defying her master’s will, pleading for a stranger she just met.
At the same time, a faint, almost imperceptible smile flickers across Mu Zhonghua’s lips.
She finally hears what she wanted from Su Linghuang.
She never intended to kill Gu Shenzhi, and this way, she can do her adorable disciple a favor—a win-win.
Clearing her throat theatrically, she says sternly, “What if you fail to persuade him?”
“Your disciple is willing to accept the sect’s punishment!”
The Red Lotus Saintess’s gaze is resolute, her words firm without a hint of hesitation.
“Very well. Go look at the wedding dress and dowry in the east wing; I picked them out carefully for you. Your master is a bit tired and will rest now.”
Watching the sect leader’s graceful figure depart, Su Linghuang is filled with confusion.
Things didn’t unfold as she expected—why is Master being so agreeable?
Then… the Red Lotus Saintess realizes she’s been played again!
When will Master’s childish temper ever change?
Su Linghuang covers her eyes with her hands, the word “speechless” practically written on her face, yet deep down, she feels a trace of relief for someone.
If Mu Zhonghua were truly determined, no one in the Moon Shadow Sect could save Gu Shenzhi’s life.
Back in her room, the Black Lotus Witch doesn’t rest.
Instead, she retrieves a yellowed painting from a dusty wooden box in the corner.
It depicts a man and a woman practicing swordsmanship together.
The man is Gu Yun; the woman is Mu Zhonghua.
Gazing at the nostalgic scene, the Black Lotus Witch gives a sorrowful smile, gritting her teeth as she mutters, “Was the Spirit Sword Sect so important to you that you cast me aside like trash? How cruel! But now, I’m even crueler than you were. I must admit, you raised a fine son, his talent surpassing even Linghuang’s. But that doesn’t matter—the greater his talent, the closer the Spirit Sword Sect’s doom.”
“Take a good look. Your Spirit Sword Sect will be destroyed by your own son!”
Mu Zhonghua puts away the painting, returning it to its place.
Whenever her memories blur, she looks at it to reignite the flames of vengeance, searing that painful past into her heart.
Back then, she too believed in love, especially after meeting Gu Yun, a young prodigy.
His confident yet gentle demeanor and dashing looks easily captured the hearts of many young female cultivators, including Mu Zhonghua.
At the time, Mu Zhonghua was just a lowly wandering cultivator, barely stepping onto the path of immortality after stumbling upon one of the 400-plus minor inheritances left by the Ghost Soul Ancestor.
Because of this background, the righteous path would never accept her, and as for the demonic path… that very night, three Ghost Underworld Sect cultivators came knocking, demanding her inheritance and attempting to defile her purity to satisfy their vile desires.
Mu Zhonghua refused to yield.
She fled desperately, exhausting her spiritual energy and burning her essence blood, seeking even the slimmest chance of survival.
But the gap in cultivation was undeniable.
Eventually, she was cornered in a narrow, dark alley, without even the strength to cry for help.
Facing the leering Ghost Underworld Sect cultivators five steps away, she closed her eyes in despair, resolving to bite her tongue and die rather than live in shame.
The next moment, three flashes of sword light and a dazzling indigo glow cut through the air.
The three Foundation Establishment cultivators from the Ghost Underworld Sect were beheaded before they could even scream.
When Mu Zhonghua opened her eyes again, she saw a cerulean flying sword, wielded by a refined, elegant young man.
That sword was called Proud Frost, the only Heaven-tier spiritual sword in Muyun Province.
The young man extended his left hand, gently asking, “I am Gu Yun, the chief disciple of the Spirit Sword Sect. May I know your name, miss?”
In that fleeting, fateful first glance, their bond began—and so did their calamity.