The moonlight was like frost, casting a silver edge over Qingyang City.
Ye Chen and Xiao Xiao left without disturbing anyone.
Except for a few familiar neighbors, who, upon seeing Ye Chen and Xiao Xiao with the look of departure, asked where they were going.
Ye Chen casually replied with a single word: Purple Cloud Sword Sect.
They were puzzled, as they had never heard of this name.
The courtyard gate was left slightly ajar, as if the owner had merely stepped out for a night stroll and could return at any moment.
However, the guard secretly dispatched by Xiao Liuli didn’t notice any of this.
He curled up in the shadows at the street corner, yawned, and pulled his cloak tighter.
To him, tailing two unarmed mortals was no different from watching over two caged moths—a dull and thankless task.
If not for the young lady’s repeated instructions before she left, he would have long since slipped away to the tavern.
The night passed uneventfully.
The next day, with the sun already high, the guard stretched lazily and wandered to the entrance of the small courtyard.
He glanced inside out of habit, intending to note ‘target did not leave today’ before heading to the tavern.
However, that single glance instantly froze the laziness on his face.
The courtyard was empty.
On the stone table where Ye Chen and Xiao Xiao always drank tea, a thin layer of fallen leaves had accumulated.
The bamboo pole, usually hung with drying clothes, now stood lonely, pointing skyward.
A sense of…desolation, as if the place had been abandoned, filled the entire courtyard.
The guard’s heart skipped a beat.
He pushed open the door and rushed in.
Main house, side rooms, kitchen—he searched everywhere.
The bedding was neatly folded, and the tables and chairs arranged with meticulous order, but all personal items bearing traces of daily life were gone.
This wasn’t a temporary outing—this was clearly moving out!
“Where are they?”
He muttered to himself, a sense of unease growing within.
He recalled Xiao Liuli’s almost obsessive tone before departing—“Watch him. Not a single fallen leaf or moth in his courtyard should be out of place.”
The Ye Family Young Master, once the laughingstock of the entire city, had disappeared without anyone noticing.
Cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
The first day, he spent in fear.
The second day, he stayed at the courtyard gate, hoping for a miracle.
On the third night, as cold moonlight once again bathed the empty courtyard, he fell into complete despair.
He paced back and forth within the yard, the crunching of leaves beneath his feet echoing through the silence.
Suddenly, a thought flashed through his chaotic mind—lie.
Yes, lie!
The young lady was at the Qingyun Holy Land and wouldn’t return for some time.
When she next sent a message, he’d say Ye Chen had recently moved but was still in the city—just changed residences and everything was fine.
This thought became his only lifeline, allowing him to exhale in relief—unaware he was already stepping into a deeper vortex.
—
The scene shifted.
Outside the city, beside an official road leading to the distant horizon, stood an unnamed hill.
A small figure knelt beneath the pale morning light, appearing especially delicate.
She slowly knelt down, facing the direction of the city, and solemnly kowtowed three times.
The first was for the grace of birth and upbringing.
The second, for all that had passed.
The third, for this departure from which there was no return.
As she rose, the cool morning breeze dried the tears at the corners of her eyes.
She turned resolutely and walked toward the silent figure waiting nearby.
Ye Chen watched her complete this ritual with calm eyes.
For some reason, Xiao Xiao’s resolute farewell seemed to stir a long-silent chord deep within his soul.
It felt as if he, too, had forgotten something important.
What was it?
He frowned slightly, but only a sense of confusion remained.
“Let’s go.”
“Mm!”
Master and servant, two figures walked on beneath the newborn sunlight, growing smaller in the distance.
—
Half a year later, at the foot of Qingyun Holy Land, Qingyang City.
A figure in white, as light as a bird, flitted through the bustling streets and silently landed in a refined courtyard.
The girl hummed an off-key tune, her eyes bright with mischief.
It was Ling Qingshuang.
Half a year of cultivation in the Holy Land had advanced her skills and given her an ethereal beauty untouched by the mundane world.
More importantly, under the guidance of the Holy Land elders, she had mastered a secret art called the Heart Mirror.
Though it could not pierce thousands of miles like the legendary Divine Sense, it allowed her to sense her surroundings with spiritual perception, constructing a three-dimensional world in her mind nearly as vivid as what her eyes could see.
“I’m finally back…”
She stretched, mumbling to herself.
“That wicked Elder Li—talking about tempering the mind. It took me so long just to find a chance to sneak out.”
Filled with joy, she gently spread her spiritual perception, preparing to ‘see’ this little home she shared with Ye Chen—and to give him a huge surprise.
However, as the scenery flowed into her mind, her cheerful humming faded.
Her smile froze.
There was no warmth as she had imagined, nor the familiar presence she longed for.
What her senses touched was the thick dust on the stone table, the weeds overtaking the corners of the courtyard, the trembling cobwebs beneath the eaves.
The entire courtyard echoed only one feeling: long abandoned.
Ling Qingshuang stood stunned.
Then, suddenly, she burst out laughing, shaking her head in self-mockery.
“This guy…really is too lazy…”
She stamped her foot, half angry, half amused.
“This is our ‘little home’, and he just let it fall into neglect! Hmph, when I see him, I’m definitely going to scare him properly!”
Covering her mouth, a sly light flashed in her eyes as she imagined Ye Chen’s panic at her sudden appearance.
She turned, her form flickering as she darted toward Ye Chen’s true residence, as she remembered it.
In the past, Ye Chen had always forbidden her from going there, saying there were too many eyes and ears.
But now—hmph, she would go anyway, and surprise him with a ‘sudden attack’!
Through familiar alleys, the courtyard with the big tree came into view.
Ling Qingshuang’s heart inexplicably quickened.
This time, her spiritual perception, laced with urgency she herself did not realize, rushed ahead like a bird returning to its nest.
Then, she froze in place.
The image constructed in her mind was even more desolate than the previous small courtyard.
It was a kind of emptiness utterly forgotten by time.
She could ‘see’ the breeze pass through the courtyard, yet it carried no warmth, only leaving behind a chilling emptiness.
She could ‘feel’ every inch of land exuding the desolation of being untouched for ages.
This place had been uninhabited for a very, very long time.
A nameless emotion surged into her heart, freezing her whole body.
She landed softly in the yard, her toes touching dry bamboo leaves with a crisp sound.
It was harsh to the ears.
She swept her spiritual perception slowly through the empty courtyard, searching every corner.
Again and again.
Nothing…
There was nothing…
No trace of him, no warmth—nothing left behind…
“…Where is he?”
She murmured unconsciously, her voice as light as the wind.
“Ye Chen…where have you gone?”
—
Three days later.
She crouched, her fingertips gently brushing the dust on the stone bench.
The coldness made her shiver.
“Was it…because I came back too late?”
“Because I went to the Holy Land and left you here alone, not returning as promised each month…is that why you’re angry?”
Her voice trembled, the clarity of her heart showing its first cracks, as the feeling of being alone returned, a weight she had tried so hard to cast aside.
That calm and gentle figure—her sole anchor in this world, the only light in her darkness.
Now, that light seemed to be fading.
“You wouldn’t abandon me…would you?”
“You promised—you said you’d wait here for me…”
She hugged her knees, burying her face in her arms like a child abandoned by the world.
Her shoulders shook, muffled sobs breaking the silence.
“…Is it because you think I’m useless, so you left to find someone else?”
“No…you can’t…”
Suddenly, she raised her head, empty eyes swirling with a darkness that sent chills down the spine.
Tears traced her pale cheeks, but her expression shifted from sorrow to determination.
“You wouldn’t leave me. It must be—someone took you away.”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“I’ll find you, Ye Chen…”
She dug her nails into her palm, letting the pain surge through her, yet her voice softened to a lover’s whisper.
“You can’t escape.”