“You just don’t understand! I love her! I love Su Wan’er!”
Shen Mo’s words struck like a red-hot brand searing into Qin Shuying’s chest.
For a moment, her heart ached.
“Shen Mo…” she said, her voice a little hoarse.
Shen Mo didn’t look at her.
He just stared out the window, gazing at the sea of clouds far off from Heavenly Sword Peak. But his eyes weren’t seeing the clouds.
They were seeing something else.
Something from a long, long time ago.
Back then, he wasn’t the lord of Jiaoyue Peak.
He was just a youth with mediocre spiritual roots and shallow cultivation, forced by his family’s decline to escort a meager shipment alone—only to run into a band of vicious robbers.
Blades flashed, spiritual power clashed. He protected the goods, dodging awkwardly, on the verge of collapse, his heart filled with despair.
Then she appeared.
There was no earth-shattering commotion. She simply flew over on her sword, her plain robes white as snow, her features cold and picturesque, yet carrying an inviolable, sharp sword aura.
Before the bandit leader’s arrogant taunts even faded, she pressed two fingers together like a sword, pointed through the air, and a condensed, solid beam of ice-blue Sword Qi pierced through the bandit leader’s protective spiritual light, pinning him to the ground!
The remaining bandits fled in terror, but she casually swept out a burst of Sword Qi, sending them all flying in a chorus of wails.
When the dust settled, she sheathed her sword and looked at him, still sitting frozen on the ground from fear.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the forest leaves, landing on her stunning, otherworldly face.
Her eyes were clear and calm, free of either pity or contempt.
She simply confirmed that he was unharmed, then gave a slight nod as if about to leave.
It was that one glance.
Shen Mo would recall it countless times later— that fleeting sight, that celestial figure descending like a god, and those clear, calm eyes.
Like a light that split open his gray life, branding itself deep into his heart, never to be erased.
He scrambled up clumsily, wanting to thank her, to ask the name of his benefactor, but his tongue was tied with nervousness.
All he managed was a stuttered, “Th-thank you, Immortal Maiden, for saving me.”
She seemed startled for a moment, then the corner of her mouth curved almost imperceptibly.
The arc was so faint it was barely visible, yet instantly Shen Mo felt like the ravaged battlefield around them had burst into bloom.
“It’s nothing. It was just a hand’s turn.” Her voice was also cool and distant, like melted snow from the mountains.
“From the very first moment I saw her, I loved her. When she smiled, I smiled foolishly along with her. When her brow furrowed, I wondered how to smooth it away. When she was alone, I wanted nothing more than to rush over and hold her gently.”
This burning feeling— wanting to reach out and touch, yet vaguely afraid of the intense passion that might break forth— kept him restless and fearful by day, and too excited to sleep at night.
Later, he racked his brains to discover her identity—the Peak Master of Jiaoyue Peak on Cloud Hidden Mountain, Su Wan’er.
A Nascent Soul cultivator, a height he could never hope to reach.
But he couldn’t help himself. Like any lovestruck youth, he secretly followed any news about her.
He was happier to hear of her cultivation progress than his own breakthroughs.
Hearing that she was injured during training outside, he couldn’t sit still, wishing he could take her place.
He would run into her by chance in the marketplace, just to catch a distant glimpse of her cold profile.
He’d prick up his ears in teahouses, catching any scraps of conversation about her.
He had never dared to hope for anything.
Being able to watch from afar, to think about her in silence, was already a gift from the heavens.
He’d even prepared to take this feeling to his grave, never letting her know, to avoid troubling her.
“Never thought she would actually send a marriage proposal…”
Shen Mo murmured, his eyes hazy, as if returning to that moment that still felt like a dream.
He thought it was the light that finally shone into his gray life, the light he could hold tightly.
He didn’t expect it to be the beginning of disaster. She abandoned him on their wedding night.
Bypassed him in seven years of seclusion, oblivious even to the desires of their honored teacher.
Qin Shuying stood with her back to him, her figure tall and solitary like a lone peak, casting a long, cold shadow.
So… that was it.
So from the very start, his heart belonged to someone else.
She just refused to believe it.
He wanted to go back—not because he feared the rules of the world, not because he coveted the empty title of Peak Master’s husband, but because… he loved her.
Jealousy, frustration, resentment churned in her chest.
She understood. Some things could not be forced.
But let go?
No. Those two words did not exist in the dictionary of the Heavenly Sword Peak Master.
Since gentle words couldn’t keep him, since baring her heart was only met with resistance…
Then she would suppress him by force.
She no longer tried to persuade him, nor did she show any emotion.
She simply raised her hand, and a flexible yet unbreakable thread of spiritual power instantly locked around Shen Mo’s body, sealing all his movement and speech.
Shen Mo stared in horror, helpless as the power wrapped around him.
Light and shadow flashed before his eyes. In an instant, he found himself in a completely unfamiliar quiet room, its furnishings simple to the point of being stark and cold.
On the surrounding walls flowed incredibly sophisticated prohibition seals.
“I will wait here for her to come.”
“When she does, whether we fight or talk, whether one of us lives or dies, she will decide.”
“As for you,” she declared, “you need only watch.”
With that, she didn’t look at him again. She turned and left.
Darkness surged from all sides, swallowing Shen Mo.
All around were hard rock walls, not even a single window.
“Wan’er,” he called her name in his heart. “Don’t come. Don’t come.”
But he knew she would come.
And when she did, swords would cross, and one of them would surely die.
Just as his mind was on the verge of collapse, a faint spatial ripple spread silently through the quiet room.
A figure, as if stepping out of an ink painting, materialized from nothingness.
The newcomer wore a simple, elegant Daoist robe, her bearing dignified and generous.
She merely stood there, as if merging with the world around her, not exuding the slightest pressure, yet making this quiet room, filled with prohibitions, seem like a mere decoration.
Shen Mo’s pupils shrank.
Lady Yunhe?
Instinctive revulsion rose within him, rooted in the Congratulations Gift Incident.
But even more, a desperate hope, like a drowning man grasping at driftwood.
Her gaze fell on Shen Mo. “Shuying is stubborn, and Wan’er is cold. It’s been hard on you, child, caught between them.”
She raised her hand, and a faint light flowed from her fingertips. The restraints on him melted away like spring snow under the sun.
Shen Mo was suddenly free. Ignoring his numb limbs, he immediately spoke: “Sect Leader, Shuying’s temper is too fierce, she leaves no room for retreat. Wan’er has just come out of seclusion and is completely unaware. If they clash like this, fellow disciples harming each other, no matter who wins or loses, it will be a great loss for the Cloud Hidden Sect. I beg you, stop them…”
The situation was urgent. Even with a deep-seated distrust of the person before him, he had no choice.
“I have come precisely for this reason.”
Lady Yunhe gently supported him, and a soft force lifted him up.
“Both of them are pillars of our Cloud Hidden Mountain, with the potential to break through to higher realms in the future. How can they slaughter each other over matters of love and ruin their Dao path?”
She walked up to Shen Mo, her gaze calmly sweeping over him.
“The brand on you that belongs to Shuying does need to be removed. Otherwise, when Wan’er returns, it will cause trouble.”
A fierce hope blazed in Shen Mo’s eyes, like grabbing at a lifeline.