At night, Kunlun Ruins is at its coldest, bitterly chilly.
Midnight hasn’t yet arrived, but a shadowy figure slips out of Xilü Xiaozhu, passing quietly over the southern side of Divine Maiden Peak and the Qiuming Hall.
In Mu Bingxin’s vision, Lin Wu is leaning on the foundation of the White Lotus, built with the sect’s gifts. Though not as strong as Cang Wu had been, he’s already learned how to refine Fubao.
Lin Wu carefully avoids the patrolling Qinglian Dao-Tong, traveling several li on foot away from Divine Maiden Peak before daring to summon the Jiechi gifted by the fairy.
The White Jade Jiechi is of second rank—its body slim and narrow, hardly a powerful Fubao.
Standing sideways on the jade ruler, Lin Wu only dares to skim low over the ground, afraid that any disturbance in Lingqi will attract the ten Honglian Yuanying Elders.
Reaching the summit of Bailu Peak, the youth narrows his eyes to watch the direction of Miwulin, silently lying in wait.
First quarter of midnight.
Second quarter of midnight.
Third quarter of midnight…
Still, the heroine doesn’t appear. Lin Wu is a little surprised; by rights, she should have arrived by the second quarter.
“What kind of big shot act is the fairy playing? I’ve still got to get off work early and poison people…”
Just as Lin Wu is about to give up and head out, a silver-haired maiden slowly steps out of the forest, white lotus-pure robes as spotless as snow.
As in his memory, Mu Bingxin arrives late, as if torn by an internal struggle.
“Bingxin, I knew your conscience wasn’t lost. To know one’s mistake and correct it is a great virtue!”
Lin Wu coughs, forcing down his shame and showing a gratified look, only feeling his younger self from three years ago was hopelessly chuunibyou.
To think he dreamed of saving a fairy—how laughable.
Mu Bingxin’s smile is forced, her knuckles white, as she musters the courage to approach.
“I’ve thought it through. Let’s go.”
“Mm.”
The two fly by Fubao, but before reaching the boundless white mist, they spot a flash of crimson on the icy plain.
Outside Miwulin, a woman in red stands with hands behind her back, slender and bony.
“Honglian Elder!”
Lin Wu’s blood runs cold.
Even wearing the Shuanghua Mask, he recognizes her as Dong Ling in disguise—the one who captured the traitor that night, once a worshipped elder of the previous Dong Ling Hall.
According to Yun Mengyao’s information, this person perished two years ago in Kunling Dongtian, so there’s no longer a chance for Xuehen’s revenge.
Pity, if she were still alive, she’d have gotten to shop ‘til she dropped!
“You don’t even strive to improve yourself, and now you’re trying to corrupt my prized disciple?”
Dong Ling sneers softly, as if foreseeing all, blocking their path.
“Did you really think you could escape Kunlun Ruins? Divine Maiden Peak isn’t somewhere you can come and go as you please!”
Lin Wu pretends not to hear, turning his head stiffly.
He’d known this would happen, but still has to act shocked, putting on an incredulous face.
Clearly, this wretched old crone has chosen a third path between playing deaf and going on the run—
She’s selling me off as a meat Lingzhi~
“Why…?”
Mu Bingxin bows her head, silver teeth clenched, not daring to meet Lin Wu’s gaze.
“I’m sorry. The Snow Lotus Sect is my home. I cannot betray my master…”
So you betray me instead?
You could have just not come! Pretend you never knew me, why force a good person into this!
Lin Wu can’t even muster a retort, swinging the jade ruler in a bid to break through, only to be suppressed by Dong Ling’s Hanbing Palm with ease, collapsing in defeat.
A mere foundation stage cultivator is helpless before a Yuanying Elder; the youth gives up resisting.
He thinks his performance is decent enough, acting out the despair of being betrayed with all his heart—true to life.
But as he lies on the ground, he notices Mu Bingxin’s delicate face is already awash with tears, frost mist swirling.
The tears freeze into Jingzhu the instant they fall from her eyes—heartbroken beyond words.
She… is crying?
Why?
Shouldn’t I be the one regretting this?
Could it be, that night, she really did want to leave with me?
Lin Wu is confused, unable to tell if this guilt is real or not.
Suddenly, Mu Bingxin sees Dong Ling pressing her palm on Lin Wu’s head, a terrifying spiritual pressure emanating from her, and shouts out in rage.
“Don’t touch him!”
Pupupupu——
In an instant, thousands upon thousands of Xuejie burst from the ground, piercing the entire icy plain like fangs!
Lin Wu clutches his head to the ground, stunned.
This isn’t how the script goes—shouldn’t there be a scene of defeat and humiliation next?
“Sect Master!”
Honglian Elder recoils in terror, narrowly dodging the hail attack time and again.
Able to play house with the sect master, she’s naturally the handpicked confidante of the head fairy. She never expected Mu Bingxin to go berserk.
“Sect Master!?”
Dong Ling calls out in despair, retreating step by step, but can’t escape the Bingfeng Restriction unleashed by Mu Bingxin—both Fubao and body are frozen in place.
Luckily, that slender jade hand stops just before touching her face.
“Huff… huff…”
Mu Bingxin gasps for breath, her rage gradually subsiding. After a long pause, she calms down, becoming once again the unworldly fairy in white.
“Sorry, I lost control for a moment. Did I hurt you?”
As if!
Dong Ling collapses limply, trembling uncontrollably, as if she’d just taken a trip to the gates of hell and nearly failed to come back.
Afterward, Mu Bingxin brushes away the ice shards from her face, not even glancing at the Honglian Elder, and slowly walks to the bewildered youth.
Lin Wu hasn’t even stood up when a delicate jade foot presses down on his chest.
The fairy’s icy gaze bears down from above, her empty eyes seeming to pierce through time, gazing at another person.
“I didn’t have a choice before. Now it’s different. You’re not going anywhere—stay by my side, obediently!”
Mu Bingxin covers her cheek, a morbid smile spreading as she murmurs to herself.
“……”
Lin Wu is frozen stiff, not daring to utter a sound.
This question is out of the syllabus—he’s never learned how to deal with this!
Where’s Shizun?
Come save me!
Even after being sent back to the small residence by Dong Ling Elder, Lin Wu still feels lingering dread.
The two share a glance, parting in silence, yet each can see the fear in the other’s eyes.
Once again, it’s clear—I’ve seriously underestimated the fairy’s madness.
At the same time, a little White Lotus is watching the farce.
Yun Mengyao clutches a ball of fox fur, hiding atop the peak and shivering, awed by her master’s fury.
“So, so scary. Is this the real reason Cang Wu fell?”
“Mmhm.”
“They say when the previous Dong Ling Elder perished in the Kunling Dongtian, Shizun was also there. After that, she soared to fame, gave birth to a Honglian Yuanying, became a Ten Hall Elder, and even received enlightenment from Patriarch Jinlian. Could it be…”
Yun Mengyao’s mind races, the implications terrifying.
“Seems you’re not as dumb as I thought, little Mengyao.”
“Oh no, she really did make the thief her substitute meal! No, wait, Lin Wu really is Cang Wu!”
“Mmph, who else would hate your master this much? Besides this palace, who else could have fished that child out of the Cold Abyss?”
The little fox grins, nodding as it sketches, clearly pleased with its own handiwork.
Yun Mengyao’s expression flickers, rubbing her temples as her piggy brain overheats.
Cang Wu didn’t die, but returned as Lin Wu for revenge—intent on paying Shizun back in kind.
So should I warn Shizun, expose his true identity?
Shizun’s kindness to me is as heavy as a mountain; without her, I’d have nothing.
But if I do, even if the thief doesn’t die, he’ll be thrown into the ice prison again.
Am I supposed to do the same cruel thing to him as Shizun did?
No matter what I choose, in the end, someone will have to become the meat Lingzhi…
Yun Mengyao bites her lip, feeling a twinge of sorrow.
If not for Shizun, Lin Wu wouldn’t be who he is now.
The little fox narrows its eyes, seeing through the girl’s thoughts—or perhaps, that’s the whole point.
“If you were in the same situation, what would you do?”
The adorable childish voice is sly and seductive.
“I…”
Yun Mengyao is torn.
Choose the sect, and she loses Lin Wu—she’d even deliver him into Shizun’s hands.
Choose Lin Wu, and she might lose more than just the sect.
Meanwhile, another voice stirs in her mind.
“Why not make both of them meat Lingzhi? Cang Wu is dead, but Lin Wu lives—and he belongs to you alone♪”