Chapter 377

The mysteries of the Dao are infinite; Qingyun cultivators often describe them as three thousand great paths, so the topics for discussion are naturally countless.

Over the next two days, the Dao Discourse Assembly continued.

Yan Shuyi and Ji You occasionally appeared at the venue, exchanging as little as they had the day before, only occasionally meeting each other’s gaze.

Sometimes Ji You initiated the gaze, only to be met with Yan Shuyi’s cold stare in return.

As a young woman, she alone governed Lingjian Mountain with difficulty; she truly needed a certain degree of authority beyond her years, a transcendent demeanor to command submission from the mountain, to ensure Lingjian Mountain’s stability.

Yet they often departed together in silence, slipping away to meet in secret.

This gradually caused a portion of people to stop paying attention to the Dao Discourse and instead began consciously observing their movements.

Some saw them walking side by side on Xinchang’s New Leaf Bridge, feeding fish for a long time; others saw them sitting idle for hours at the West Market teahouse.

One in white robes like piled snow, the other elegant and noble—had their identities been hidden, they would have seemed perfectly matched.

“We’ve reached the end of the market.”

“Then let’s walk back. Remember, you’re my concubine—you walk behind me.”

On a bright, sunlit afternoon, Yan Shuyi and Ji You strolled leisurely through the West Market.

As they wandered, they gradually reached the market’s end, then turned around and walked back, one ahead, one behind.

Following behind the young Lord of the Mirror, Ji You walked slowly; when he looked back, his eyes met the glances cast from the street beside them, then settled on Yan Shuyi’s deliberately composed expression.

He thought: though she feared her association with me might damage her authority within the mountain, she truly wanted others to see she had a beloved—otherwise she wouldn’t keep strolling so openly under everyone’s eyes.

This capital city teemed with cultivators—who could have imagined the young Lord of the Mirror’s heart was so childish and endearing?

At this moment, Yan Shuyi walked with head held high, steps graceful, pretending not to be close to her husband at all.

Yet as they walked, she suddenly stopped.

“There are tiger-head slippers…”

“Mm, pretty…”

Her beautiful phoenix eyes fixed on a stall piled with handcrafted goods—among them, a pair of tiger-head slippers with red cords tied at the ankles, each adorned with tiny bells; her heart stirred with desire.

Ever since she used “procreating heirs is a great matter” as an excuse to decide she would bear Ji You a child, she had grown fond of such things.

During the New Year’s market, she had secretly bought many, and now, seeing them again, she couldn’t resist the urge to buy.

But she knew she couldn’t buy them while everyone was watching—otherwise they’d know she’d long wished to bear Ji You a child, which would harm her image.

Moreover, she didn’t want the little disciples of the Heavenly Book Academy to know she truly wished to bear him a child.

Gazing at the slippers so close at hand, Yan Shuyi felt reluctant, yet turned away and left.

As the two vanished down the long street, the gazes from teahouses and taverns quickly withdrew, replaced by murmurs.

“The young Lord of the Mirror is truly dignified—even while strolling, she doesn’t glance aside, and Ji You dares only to follow behind, not daring to breathe loudly!”

“Indeed, it seems private affection isn’t so easily had—perhaps one must bow low and serve.”

“Isn’t this just climbing the ladder through marriage? Throughout history, all male in-laws have been like this!”

“Hmph, saying he looks down on immortal sects, pretending to be aloof—yet his true ambition is too great. Where’s his old defiance of power? He’s already shown his true colors before the young Lord of the Mirror.”

Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu were also in the teahouse, as the Lord of the Mirror had forbidden them from following.

When they heard the murmurs inside, they couldn’t help but click their tongues, thinking: this is acting—do you understand acting?

What you see is what the Lord of the Mirror wants you to see.

How could you know that when our Lord of the Mirror shuts her door, she wants to whimper, unaware of it, and every day calls her master “husband” while moaning, desperate to cling to him?

Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu quietly speculated when they saw a vendor dressed in Wulü Trading House attire rush into the market, buy a pair of tiger-head slippers at a stall, then hurry away.

At this moment, Yan Shuyi and Ji You had wandered the city for a long while, then entered the Wulü Trading House through a back alley, bathed in brilliant sunlight.

“Time’s about right. No matter how Leftiu Yang’s progress goes, I must go to Danzong—so I’ve arranged to meet Cao Jingsong and Kuangcheng for dinner. What do you want to eat?”

“Spicy and sour potato shreds and earth-pot chicken.”

Yan Shuyi replied softly, coldly.

Ji You glanced at her, thinking: who knew the young Lord of Lingjian Mountain was so easy to please?

At that moment, Yan Shuyi’s gaze suddenly fixed on a pair of tiger-head slippers displayed on the counter—when she realized they were the very ones she’d glanced at twice in the market, her beautiful eyes narrowed slightly.

You sneaky thief—you noticed everything.

Ji You walked over, looking at the slippers: “I thought they looked nice when we were strolling, so I had someone buy them ahead of time as backup.”

“They’re just average.”

“Are you talking about how stubborn your mouth is?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

As she spoke, Yan Shuyi walked toward the room and unlaced her sash at the bedside.

The luxurious Lord of the Mirror’s immortal robe slipped gently from her shoulders; beneath the silk undergarment, a smooth, rounded expanse of snowy skin appeared.

She then took out a woman’s dress, changed into it, and stepped out of the room again.

When she emerged, she saw a clerk hurrying out of the courtyard.

At the same time, Ji You held a message.

“Who sent this now?”

“Leftiu Yang. I gave him the conditions—he’s met them. He wants me to visit the Heavenly Book Academy today.”

After folding the message, Ji You suddenly remembered something: “Lately I’ve been focused entirely on that aura—forgotten to ask you: have you found any trace of Master Chen?”

Yan Shuyi shook her head: “A former Transcendent who ascended—if he doesn’t show himself, ordinary people can’t find him. I’ve sent out scouts across the lands to watch, but still no news.”

“What is this old man scheming with such elaborate effort?”

“Didn’t you investigate the relics he left behind in Yuyang County?”

As soon as she spoke, Ji You lifted his gaze.

He had indeed examined Master Chen’s relics, read many passionate, profound, yet accessible writings—but gained little information.

Yet here, Ji You suddenly recalled a question he’d long wanted to ask. He looked up at his stubborn ghost: “I have a question about the origin of the Sacred Artifact.”

Yan Shuyi’s swaying foot halted: “The Sacred Artifact’s origin?”

“Wei Rui found a spirit stone sealed with the origin’s power among Master Chen’s relics. I reached for it—but before I touched it, the origin’s power entered my body. It’s confused me.”

Hearing this, Yan Shuyi’s eyes froze slightly; a flicker of confusion crossed her beautiful features.

Such an expression was rare on the lofty young Lord of the Mirror—making her appear oddly endearing.

She revealed this look because the Sacred Artifact’s origin, except for its wielder and those explicitly permitted to inherit it, rejected everyone without exception.

Moreover, a thousand years ago, the Sacred Artifact had been blood-bound to the ancient sages; unless the wielder died, no outsider could be accepted by the origin without their consent.

Yet she never imagined Ji You could internalize the origin—leaving her utterly baffled.

After long thought, the young Lord of the Mirror raised her head: “Have you ever tried to take control of the Heavenly Book Academy’s Heavenly Book?”

Ji You’s eyebrows lifted slightly: “You think I can control the Heavenly Book?”

“Why do you think you can’t?”

“Isn’t it true that only a direct disciple, after a long process of stewardship, can gain control—and only with the previous holder’s permission?”

Yan Shuyi looked at him: “The origin doesn’t reject you—that’s the greatest foundation. And you once told me the Heavenly Book Academy had a lineage of Night Watchers who preserved its legacy. I’ve been pondering: if the demons in the stories were truly so powerful, what did the Night Watchers rely on to guard it?”

Ji You lifted his gaze: “You think the Night Watchers, besides the Headmaster, can also wield the Heavenly Book?”

“If so, some things become explainable. And you know—only the two of us can enter Xuwu Mountain. That’s strange. You should try.”

“How?”

“Find a high place. Sense it.”

“Like cultivation?”

“No—not cultivation. Call it to you. The Sacred Artifact originates from the Dao—it’s exceedingly proud. You must approach it with the heart of submission, and only then will it respond.”

Ji You pressed his lips together: “It gave me a wife. Isn’t it harsh to treat it so sternly?”

The little disciple of the Heavenly Book Academy dares to be disrespectful—Yan Shuyi’s gaze instantly hardened.

She knew the stranger meant her—because they were bound through the Sacred Artifact’s resonance.

Ji You pinched her cheek and softened his smile: “The Heavenly Book is the foundation of the Heavenly Book Academy, the greatest deterrent in the world. If I trigger any disturbance, trouble may follow.”

“But now is the perfect time—everyone knows I’m in Shengjing, and everyone knows I won’t allow you to be harmed. Even if someone in the Heavenly Book Academy suspects, they won’t act forcefully—only expel you.”

“And then?”

Yan Shuyi gave a cold, haughty smile: “Then you come to Lingjian Mountain. I’ll make you my personal heir.”

Ji You looked at her, thinking: you’re not making me your heir—you’re making me a disciple who rebels against his master.

“But no matter the outcome, don’t tell anyone afterward. As you said, the Sacred Artifact is the world’s greatest deterrent—every year, during the shift of immortal sect authority, unrecorded bloodshed occurs. We only need to know ourselves. We’ll deal with what comes later.”

The idea that Night Watchers could wield the Heavenly Book was indeed bizarre—but as Yan Shuyi said, it held a certain logic.

Yet this matter was of immense weight, inevitably stirring his mind into disarray.