Chapter 13

Under the light, the branches and leaves of the courtyard apricot tree seemed to glow, the flowing silver moonlight falling among the leaves and trickling down.

This apricot tree grows in a truly peculiar way—half of it is blooming with flowers, while the other half has not a single blossom.

A figure walked into the silent, soundless Falling Star Courtyard.

Seeing the small house still lit with dim light, Pei Junheng's eyes moved.

In his hand he held a jade slip emitting a lustrous light, his fingertip happening to press on Wen Qingyin's name.

Pei Junheng's gaze revealed no emotion; he alone walked slowly to the front of the house, the quiet courtyard hearing only the rustling of swaying leaves.

Faint light seeping from within the house carried a warm breath; Pei Junheng reached out to touch the wooden door.

The courtyard's door was not locked; Pei Junheng pushed it gently and it opened.

Warm orange candlelight was dim; as soon as he entered the house he smelled a faint fragrance.

The sheer gauze vaguely obscured the silhouette of the person on the bed inside.

The closer he got, the stronger the fragrance he smelled ahead became, like some kind of floral scent that was refreshing to the heart and lungs, making him want to take several deep breaths.

A wind of unknown origin stirred the sheer gauze; beyond the gauze that fluttered like rippling water, Pei Junheng finally saw the person resting beyond the gauze.

Although he already knew the identity of the person behind the gauze, when that face appeared before Pei Junheng, he still couldn't help but ease his breathing.

The beautiful face with closed eyes resembled a closed lotus; apparently asleep, the smooth, luminous, fair cheeks bore a rosy blush.

The little sect master of the Cloud Middle Immortal Sect is the most precious flower of the Luxuriant Isle, every inch of his body bearing the marks of being cherished and pampered.

The casual robe draped over his body was shark silk woven by the sea's shark people, a piece of fabric that countless spirit stones could not buy; now cut into a fitted robe and worn on Wen Qingyin's body, it seemed to embrace a cluster of cloud-mist moonlight.

A section of jade arm extending from the sleeve and resting on the couch resembled a fresh, tender branch of early spring, even the fingertips pink and fragrant.

Around the slender, snow-white wrist was loosely bound a circle of vivid red sword tassel.

It was his sword tassel.

Wen Qingyin dreamed again of Dragon Spine Mountain.

Once, Dragon Spine Mountain lay like a long dragon's spine spanning between the Luxuriant Isle and Mount Tai Carriage, the apricot trees covering the mountain never withering, countless red powders giving Dragon Spine Mountain a dreamlike, illusory gentle hue, as if withered bones had sprouted flowers.

Dragon Spine Mountain was Wen Qingyin's favorite place to go before.

He liked to sit on overlapping, intertwined branches, hiding among clusters of delicate buds; when the herbal cultivators who came with him couldn't find him and anxiously circled about, Wen Qingyin would peek his head out from the tree, curl his lip and startle the people below, then, having succeeded, he would shrink back with a giggly smile to wait for the next victim.

Wen Qingyin never grew tired of such tricks, he dangled his feet on the tree and waited patiently. The time spent sitting in the tree was not boring; he could feel the trees' flowers joyfully unfurling, the apricot blossoms gently kissing his cheeks. Everything brimmed with vibrant, beautiful vitality.

Someone has come.

Hearing the faint footsteps, Wen Qingyin immediately stopped swinging his foot, grabbed the branch and held his breath, waiting.

Three.

Two.

One.

Someone stood beneath the tree.

This is now——

"Hey!"

A young boy with ink-black hair sticking out from the clusters of apricot blossoms, when his gorgeous face broke into a smile, his smile actually outshone the pink hues covering the mountains.

But Wen Qingyin's smile froze instantly on his face; the person beneath the tree was not a familiar herbal cultivator.

The youth's demeanor was a cold, hard aloofness utterly unlike the gentle apricot blossoms behind him; meeting his gaze would make one think of the icy wolves of the Northern Plains.

Dangerous, vigilant, do not approach.

Wen Qingyin had never seen such a gaze before; he froze on the spot, his hand gripping the branch loosening, and he actually fell straight down along with the apricot blossoms covering the tree.

"Ah——"

Pink flower rain falling across the sky obscured vision, layers of fluttering petals seeming able to completely cover Wen Qingyin beneath the flowers.

Weightlessness and dizziness assailed Wen Qingyin's mind, the wind howling in his ears; he tried to grab the magic treasure from his bag, but the falling speed was too fast—just a moment and Wen Qingyin felt the flower-covered treetop recede from him, and he was about to crash into the ground.

His lifetime of fame was about to be ruined at this very moment!

But what greeted him was not a cold ground covered in flower petals, but a person's embrace.

Wen Qingyin widened his eyes in disbelief.

And actually caught him and the falling flowers in a full embrace.

Meeting a pair of eyes cold as icy stars, Wen Qingyin felt as if he could see his own dazed reflection in those dark, deep pupils.

But what he thought was——

This person's embrace was actually warm.

The little sect master Wen Qingyin, even having just fallen from the tree and been held in someone's embrace, was in no way affected in his flamboyant air like a beautiful little peacock; after only a few seconds he naturally accepted and enjoyed this unfamiliar yet warm embrace, slightly raising his chin and glancing askance at the silent, hard youth holding him.

"Hey."

"What's your name?"

Taken aback by Wen Qingyin's question, the youth still opened his lips that could be called ruthless:

"——"

As if suddenly submerged in water, the youth's voice was faint and indistinct.

"What?"

Wen Qingyin asked him, but the next second the scene before his eyes, like a stone thrown into a tranquil lake shattering its calm, everything was crushed and spun into illusion, even the temperature felt on his body receding like a tide.

Bone-deep cold assailed Wen Qingyin's body.

Reacting even before sight was the sensation of pain; the agony from his right palm almost made Wen Qingyin's vision go black.

It was as if a blade were gripped in his hand, churning his palm into bloody gore.

Wen Qingyin lifted his face; ahead, the still bright and lovely Dragon Spine Mountain was now shrouded in dark clouds, the impending wind and rain seeming ready to swallow him where he had fallen.

A blinding sword flash flickered before his eyes; the youth, a sword cultivator clad in spotless white, pointed the tip of his long sword directly at him.

The sword tip was icy cold, as if condensed from the northern plains' coldest frost snow, but colder than the sword tip was the sword cultivator's gaze—so unfamiliar it almost made him fail to recognize him.

His right palm seemed to hurt even more.

There were no apricot blossoms on Dragon Spine Mountain; it was shrouded in a heavy, oppressive air, and bean‑sized raindrops fell from the heavens onto Wen Qingyin's face.

The strike made his face sting.

Rain kept pounding Wen Qingyin's eye sockets, yet he stubbornly kept his eyes open, staring straight at the sword pointed at him that shone as bright as the sun.

Wen Qingyin bit his lip as his own voice trembled and sounded:

"Pei Junheng, are you really going to hurt me?"

The gloomy clouds gathered thicker and thicker, the ink‑black horizon pressing down, and Wen Qingyin fell into a deep, endless abyss of darkness.

He had slept so deeply this time that when Wen Qingyin opened his eyes and saw the gauze swaying slightly in the breeze, he momentarily couldn't collect his thoughts.

His gaze moved downward and came to rest on the blood‑red sword tassel wrapped around his wrist.

For a moment he couldn't tell whether it was a dream or reality.

The sword tassel encircling his wrist was a bit worn, but its color remained vivid red, like a ring of freshly spilled blood.

Turning his wrist, the scar in his right palm became visible; lying there, looking at it now, it resembled an apricot blossom about to bloom in his hand.

It remained there in the center of his palm.

Wen Qingyin hadn't dreamed of the events on Dragon Spine Mountain from years ago in a long time.

After the spiritual veins of Dragon Spine Mountain vanished, the ever‑blooming apricot flowers that once grew there disappeared as well, and thereafter no one ever saw even a half‑petal of pink on the mountain.

And Wen Qingyin himself had never returned to Dragon Spine Mountain.

The gauze before him continued to sway in the wind, drifting like a wisp of mist. Wen Qingyin sat up, and through the moving gauze he caught sight of signs that someone had slept on the nearby bed.

It seemed his roommate had come back.

Behind the dim curtain, Wen Qingyin finally saw his roommate's silhouette.

Tall and slender, with broad shoulders and narrow hips, even just his back view exuded a vigorous sense of strength.

His roommate appeared handsome, though he didn't know which sect he belonged to.

Wen Qingyin sat on the bed, reached out to lift the gauze blocking his view, and prepared to greet his roommate in a friendly manner.

"Hello—"

Hearing Wen Qingyin's voice, the roommate turned around in response.

But the face that turned toward him was a familiar one Wen Qingyin would never forget—the very face that had just appeared in his dream, making his teeth itch with anger.

Wen Qingyin's friendly greeting, upon recognizing that face, twisted awkwardly in his mouth like a winding mountain road.

"Hello—ugly."

Pei Junheng, who had just been hit in the face with the word "ugly,":??