First Meeting
 
It was the spring equinox. A rain had fallen on the cliff last night.
This morning mist veiled the mountains, the green washed fresh, revealing its varied depths and layers.
 
The young man walked along the mountain’s rugged stone path, faint wisps of cloud wrapped around him, the humid breath of plants and trees dampening his trailing hem.
He was in the prime of his confidence, yet his steps were steady, neither hurried nor slow. His gaze was calm, without a trace of arrogance.
By contrast, the young girl in pink trailing behind him appeared far more anxious.
 
He Yan Yun watched the figure’s back before her.
Senior Brother Luo had just been named the chief disciple of Cangya and still wore the elaborate, dignified ceremonial robes, a departure from his usual plainness.
Snow-white brocade robe overlaid with blue satin, exquisitely embroidered with patterns of the vast sea and ancient pines. The cuffs and collar are subtly outlined with silver-threaded cloud motifs, and a coiled-dragon jade knot fastens the outer robe at the waist.
As he walked, the many layers of wide, drooping sleeves billowed like drifting clouds. They perfectly traced and revealed his tall, upright figure.
Seeing that he was pulling away and about to leave her behind, the girl gathered her breath and leapt up as if from nowhere; her form flickered and she landed in front of the young man.
She called out urgently, “Senior brother!”
 
The young man was not surprised and said calmly, “Junior sister has matters to attend to; wait until I return this time and we’ll discuss it then.”
His features were originally sharp and handsome, but because of the gentle aura around him, he inexplicably seemed warm and trustworthy.
 
Some people seem to possess an innate special power: even when they utter words of refusal, others feel no trace of ill will.
Luo Mingchuan was such a person.
 
The girl seemed convinced of his good nature and still persistently blocked his way, her tone carrying a hint of playful reproach. “Senior brother, I heard you asked the sect master for the Canglan Token—what exactly are you going to do with it?”
She was born delicate and pretty; behaving like this seemed not at all impertinent, but instead highlighted the sweet innocence of a young daughter.
The young man’s expression did not change in the slightest. “Junior sister, please go back. I need to descend the mountain for a trip.”
“You need to go down the mountain and still bring the Canglan Token?” The girl knit her pretty brows, thought for a moment, then suddenly seemed to realize something, her almond eyes widening. “The Cangya Prison?!”
“Senior brother, you can’t be going to see that person named Yin, can you?!”
The young man remained silent.
 
He Yanyun knew that Senior Brother Luo would not lie; his silence was tantamount to admission.
She grew even more agitated. “Why go see him?! What’s wrong with Xi Hua Peak? What’s so great about him?! It’s clear his heart is wicked, full of schemes to harm us. Senior Brother, you’re now Cangya’s top disciple—are you still afraid of him?!”
Luo Mingchuan frowned. “Junior Sister He, watch your words.”
The girl didn’t hesitate and blurted out, “Did I say something wrong? Seven days from now at the public trial he’ll be stripped of his cultivation and driven off the mountain. In my view, for a grave crime like harming a fellow disciple, even Xihuafeng couldn’t protect him—let alone the Sword…”
 
Suddenly she fell silent, as if an invisible hand had tightly clamped around her throat.
A great wave of terror surged out one after another, causing cold sweat to break out on her in an instant. This intimidation did not come from anyone or anything around her, but from a deep-seated fear within her heart.
Not just her—almost everyone in the world is the same.
Even the slightest slip of disrespect in casual mention would instantly summon the ingrained dread, pressing down until she could hardly breathe.
 
Only then did she belatedly understand that Senior Brother Luo’s earlier admonition to “watch her words” was not to stop her from insulting Yin Biyue, but to prevent her from speaking discourteously about that man.
What she had been about to say was that Yin Biyue’s nominal master, the Xihua Peak Lord who had spent years wandering the world—”Sword Saint” Wei Jingfeng.
She had indeed gotten carried away; this was not something she could presume to judge.
 
He Yanyun took a deep breath, forcing herself back to normal; her tone softened as she begged, “Senior brother, do you really have to go? Then take me with you—I want to see what the dungeon looks like…”
The young man’s tone was mild, but without a trace of wavering; he could only shake his head helplessly.
“Don’t make a fuss.”
He Yan Yun wanted to say more, but saw the figure before her ripple like water, the motion deepening then shallowing, and in the blink of an eye it vanished.
She was terrified, then quickly understood: such spatial magic was of course beyond Senior Brother Luo, but now that the Canglan Order was in his hands, he could very well harness the power of the Cangya Mountain Range and use the mountain’s array to instantaneously relocate.
The girl stamped her foot in annoyance.
 
  ***************************
The heavy black iron gate slowly swung open, the dark slit widening until, like an abyss choosing its prey, it finally revealed its true face.
 
The moment Luo Mingchuan stepped in, he felt his breath hitch; as a spirit cultivator, the sense of his true essence being restricted was unbearable. At first it was only a faint discomfort, but it deepened as he descended the steps. By the time his feet touched ground, it felt as if invisible shackles had been clamped onto him.
The guard had already received word from outside and was waiting at the entrance holding a shark-oil lamp, its flame guttering but not yet extinguished.
Luo Mingchuan bowed slightly and said, “Thank you for your trouble.”
The guard turned his body to avoid his bow, his voice hoarse and rough, “I dare not.”
 
Luo Mingchuan understood why he had come. He had seen it clearly: within the Zi Mansion’s secret realm, the one Yin Biyue truly wanted dead was him; the others were merely collateral.
But he couldn’t understand why Yin Biyue wanted him dead.
After all, they had met back at Lanyuan Academy; although they had no dealings after joining Cangya, there had been no enmity either.
He looked at the pitch-black, cold dungeon, and a sigh rose in his heart. The youth who had once been dazzlingly gifted had fallen to such a state.
 
Footsteps sounded again with the passing watch, steady and strong, echoing along the narrow corridor without end.
Yin Bi, who had been leaning against the wall, slowly opened his eyes.
Now his true qi was sealed, and his eyesight was far worse than before.
Only when the figure came within five paces did the nearly extinguished lamp illuminate the visitor’s face.
Jade crown, white robe, high brows and graceful eyes…
Luo Mingchuan!
 
Yin Bi Yue’s pupils suddenly contracted! Every muscle in his body tensed instantly, and he nearly sprang up.
He then forced himself with all his might to relax.
This was the original owner’s instinctive reaction to the person before him, taken to such an extent that even after the spirit had left, it still lingered in the body.
How… great an enmity was this?!
 
The guard handed over the lantern and withdrew on his own.
Luo Mingchuan stared at the dim prison cell and tentatively called out, “Junior Brother Yin?”
In the darkness came the rustle of fabric rubbing, punctuated by the clash of iron chains—harsh and piercing.
 
The prisoner approached to the sound of the chains and stepped into the candlelight.
Pale-faced, brows and eyes cast downward.
He was dressed in a simple plain robe, without pattern or ornament; his long hair unbound, hanging loosely over his shoulders.
The wide white garment’s broad sleeves were dimly lit by candlelight, making his figure look even leaner.
 
The young man raised his eyes; a pair of deep, cool-looking pupils stared straight ahead, like cold stars in the sky.
Luomingchuan was momentarily stunned.
His always-sharp intuition told him something was definitely wrong; the Yin junior apprentice he remembered wasn’t like this.
The youth’s gaze was always cold and sullen, occasionally lifting to look at him in a way that made one feel watched by some cold-blooded creature.
 
But the chill in front of him was more like that of a deity looking down from the clouds, an innate indifference.
For a moment he was dazed.
The first time I saw him at the academy, I knew at a glance that this junior brother was exceptionally handsome. Now, examining him more closely, I was surprised to find that although his body had not fully matured, his facial features had already fully developed: thin lips, a straight nose, sword-like brows and starry eyes—without a single flaw.
Like a temple statue carved from mutton-fat white jade, exquisitely sculpted, his bearing was lofty and transcendent.
 
Yet there wasn’t the slightest hint of human warmth.
 
Author’s note: Bug hunting~ Bug hunting~