Chapter 80: The Brother-in-Law Who Belongs to Red Apricot Is About to Cheat

Under endless night, all slept peacefully on their beds, each lost in their own dreams.

Only the city guard was awakened by a cultivator soaring down from above, and he leapt up at once—one foot in his shoe, the other bare—frantically flinging open the city gate.

Gazing outward, through the hazy darkness, numerous carriages and cultivators returned from the ruin, entering Ningcheng County, their expressions grim.

It collapsed.

Everything collapsed.

After the heavenly thunder struck, the three main peaks at the entrance of Qiling were flattened; the fallen cliffs blocked the original mountain path.

Because the malevolent qi still swirled thickly within the mountains, no one dared to fly through the air, so they hurried back to the city to rest.

Only at the deep hour of Yin did the Shanhai Pavilion send one of its Elders, who forged a blade of immense magical power in the sky above Qiling’s range, cleaving open the collapsed path, allowing others to gradually re-enter the mountains.

The crashing sounds of that night jolted sleeping townsfolk awake, leaving them anxious afterward, urgently instructing their children to go back to sleep.

Li the vegetable vendor’s son couldn’t sleep, so he reached a small hand out from under the covers, fiddling with straw embedded in the earthen wall—then saw distant fires blazing across the mountains.

At this moment, at the ruin’s entrance, large chunks of flesh rained down upon the mountainside.

Though called “chunks of flesh,” each piece was larger than a human, pinkish yet charred black.

At this time, the head of the Shen family of Zhongzhou arrived in person, stumbling into the mountains, and saw nothing but endless ash and soot stretching from the entrance all the way to the distant peaks.

As all stared in horror, a rustling sound emerged from within the ruin’s undergrowth.

Everyone immediately drew their weapons, staring grimly toward the bushes.

Soon, a blood-drenched hand reached out from the foliage; a woman crawled forth, her gaze clouded, fixed on the crowd outside, her eyes filled entirely with agony.

“Father…”

“Yan’er…?”

“Quick, quickly help the young lady out—hurry!”

“….”

The morning sun grew warmer, dispelling the lingering chill of spring.

Ji You slept soundly through the night, rising early, walking to the corridor before his door, and stretching toward the distant sky.

Humans remained creatures accustomed to daylight; seeing this bright sun brought them comfort.

So he strolled slowly two steps westward along the corridor and saw Yan Shuyi’s room door already open.

At this moment, the young Master of the Mirror held a letter, reading news from the mountains, her beautiful brow slightly furrowed in solemnity, then prepared to rise from bed.

The etiquette of a gentleman is to observe from afar, never to indulge in frivolity.

So Master Ji stood at the doorway, watching the firm curve of her buttocks rest on the bed’s edge, delicately lifting her snow-white feet to slip on silk stockings.

Zhuo Wanqiu was fetching water for the young Master and, seeing Ji You standing at the door, gave a slight nod in greeting—but did not close the door.

The young Master narrowed her eyes and flicked her sleeve, shutting the door directly.

“Wanqiu, why didn’t you close the door?”

Zhuo Wanqiu remembered how she’d once concealed something and been caught; she spoke at once: “I didn’t know whether I should or shouldn’t…”

Yan Shuyi stepped down from the bed, glancing at the figure outside the window: “How can one wash one’s face in front of a strange man?”

“But you just put on your stockings in front of him—and isn’t he your Master’s Consort?”

Zhuo Wanqiu was a logic genius; she believed that though the young Master was female, she would one day rule Lingjian Mountain and could never marry into another family.

It was said Ji You was a private cultivator with no clan background—he would become a son-in-law, and once a son-in-law, he became the Master’s Consort.

Yan Shuyi pretended not to hear, plunging her hands into the washbasin.

She’d been pinched on the face again last night; she didn’t want to see him.

The empress’s pride and the whimpering girl within the young Master’s heart were clashing.

After washing, Yan Shuyi stepped out of her room, and Zhuo Wanqiu followed, sweating profusely.

Ever since leaving the Qiling Ruins, Zhuo Wanqiu had taken over Ding Yao’s duties, rising each morning to attend to the young Master’s grooming.

She believed the young Master had arranged this because she knew certain things.

The young Master was naturally stunning—even without makeup—and yet today she seemed unusually concerned, dressing meticulously before meeting the stranger she claimed to have seen only twice.

Ji You had already drunk his tea in the courtyard and was walking out when he heard footsteps and turned to see her emerge from the room.

“I’m going to buy breakfast on the street—do you want to come?”

Yan Shuyi gave him a cold glance, then nodded slightly, stepping out with soft taps: “Did you hear the noise from the mountains last night?”

Ji You stared at her for a long while: “You’re beautiful every day, but today… you’re beautiful in a different way.”

Yan Shuyi’s cool facade cracked; she narrowed her eyes: “Shut up, you impolite stranger.”

“Still pretending we don’t know each other? You woman who forgets people once she puts on her shoes!”

“There are disciples watching—I must maintain dignity. Word’s already spread that I went down to Shengjing; if they see us together, they might think I went there specifically for you—but I merely glanced at you by chance.”

Ji You walked on, muttering: “Your mouth is even harder than mine…”

Yan Shuyi trailed behind, murmuring: “I only glanced at you by chance.”

“You stayed two nights.”

“We merely discussed the Dao—don’t tell anyone, or the Wendaos will kill you if they find out…”

Ji You stopped walking: “So you really are going to marry into the Wendaos?”

Yan Shuyi lifted her full chest: “Even if I marry, I’ll choose someone I like—not like some people who already have a dozen fiancées.”

“That’s rumor—I beat Long Xiandi yesterday and stole his money.”

“What’s that to me, you lecher.”

The streets were packed with cultivators, all discussing the mountain entry, the scenes witnessed within, and the rumors now spreading.

Ji You listened for a long while, then stopped and turned toward a roadside stall.

The stall sold roasted snacks, including baked sweet potatoes; the vendor behind it was whispering with the neighbor, but upon seeing them approach, he stood up—and froze.

“Miss, you’re back?”

Ji You glanced at the absent-minded young Master behind him: “You know each other?”

The vendor, missing Yan Shuyi’s warning glare, smiled: “Miss came every day recently, always saying my sweet potatoes weren’t as good as others’. I’d really like to see how that other person does it.”

“?”

Yan Shuyi stared coldly, looking like a beautiful but cruel woman, bought some baked sweet potatoes, and left.

The vendor scratched his head, thinking: “Today’s miss is unusually stern…” then looked down at the stall, astonished: “Why did she give so much silver?”

“….”

As the sun rose slightly higher, Yuan Caimei rose from her bed and stepped out into the courtyard.

She’d heard the noise from the mountains last night; now she wanted to discuss with her younger brother when to return to Yu Danzong.

She’d been missing for days; her sect was frantic. Now her own disciple was lost outside, and her father was surely driven mad.

After the incident at Qiling, the repercussions would spread—especially with so many dead; someone would inevitably bear the wrath of the Immortal Sects. That was certain.

At such a time, wandering outside was extremely dangerous for a alchemist without combat strength.

There was another matter—about Ji You.

Her younger brother had gone to great lengths to bring her and Ji You together.

She’d initially refused because Ji You had no clan background and low cultivation—but yesterday, he broke through to Tongxuan, and straight into the middle realm.

In Yu Danzong, a full completion of the lower realms at his age might not meet the threshold, but a middle-realm Tongxuan at such a young age carried some weight.

Yuan Caimei had also noticed his extraordinary qualities; perhaps she could consider getting closer.

Her brother wanted to keep hiring him as escort; she thought it might be acceptable.

After all, she and Yan Shuyi called each other sisters; now that she was leaving, Ji You couldn’t reasonably stay behind alone.

The young Master of Lingjian Mountain was noble and cultured; if Ji You remained here, she might say nothing—but she’d surely dislike it.

Just as Yuan Caimei entered the courtyard, she saw Ji You and Yan Shuyi sitting close together, eating sweet potatoes and chatting about street rumors.

“Chen Ruhai, head of the Chen Clan, was severely wounded—is it true?”

“The details are too specific—it must be true. Everyone saw that crimson heavenly light strike him; it can’t be hidden.”

Ji You sighed, thinking: others watched the spectacle with their eyes—he was the one who’d truly risked his life to watch it.

At that moment, he recalled Yan Shuyi’s earlier idle remark: Zheng’s ancestral master had once studied under the Chen Clan but never received their Dao inheritance. His expression hardened.

“So the monster with chaotic flesh really is Zheng’s ancestral master? Failed to ascend, yet still sought revenge?”

“Even the Vessel-Bearers are human—they have selfish desires. Only after true ascension can they completely shed attachments. But if they ascend, how do they pass on their Dao? So the Seven Immortal Sects all pass their Sacred Vessels to their direct heirs—a vicious, unsolvable cycle.”

Yan Shuyi murmured, holding her teacup: “Zheng’s ancestral master must have held deep resentment toward the Chen Clan—perhaps that’s why his final breath struck Chen Ruhai.”

Ji You frowned slightly: “Still… something feels off.”

“Because it’s too coincidental.”

Yan Shuyi lifted her gentle eyes to him: “Everything seems driven by coincidence—it doesn’t make sense.”

Ji You caught her scent, paused, then asked: “Will you one day pass the Mirror to your direct heir?”

Yan Shuyi’s cold face flushed; her eyes narrowed: “None of your business.”

“Really?”

“I want to kill you…”

Yuan Caimei watched from behind for a long while, her gaze slightly stunned.

Both the eldest daughter of Yu Danzong and the young Master of Lingjian Mountain were daughters of great sects, raised together—yet she’d never seen Yan Shuyi act like this, so… feminine.

She’d just been thinking that leaving Ji You here might displease Yan Shuyi—but now she felt she herself was unnecessary.

As she pondered, she suddenly noticed her younger brother, Yuan Chen, had also entered the courtyard, staring at the scene with heartbreak.

Isn’t the young Master of Lingjian Mountain supposed to be cold and serious? Why does she keep clinging to my brother-in-law?

My cooked brother-in-law, how could he be so fickle—just one night, and he’s already chasing after another woman!

“What are you two talking about?”

Yuan Caimei felt she might be overthinking it, but after pondering for a while, she still walked over and sat down, unsure why herself—yet she desperately wanted to break the strange harmony between them.

“The Shanhai Pavilion and the Chen Clan lost a large number of disciples; nearly all of the next generation of the Shen family of Zhongzhou are gone; the Chen Clan’s Patriarch is now severely wounded and unconscious; and my Lingjian Mountain’s Tianjian Peak also lost many disciples.”

The truth was nearly identical to the rumors—the Seven Immortal Sects all suffered heavy blows.

But the families that greedily bit off more than they could chew suffered the worst.

According to current reports, four families have nearly been wiped out; the Shanhai Pavilion was the first to gain the immortal fortune in the mountains—and also suffered the greatest losses.

Everyone knew before entering that gaining an inexplicable immortal fortune would come at a cost, but they assumed the cost would merely be turning into a demonic seed.

Yet no one had imagined that the true cost of gaining the immortal fortune was becoming someone else’s immortal fortune.

After hearing this, Yuan Caimei’s heart sank: “Did everyone in the mountains really die?”

“Three were still alive when the immortal sects entered the mountains last night, but they died afterward.”

“If they were alive, how did they die again?”

Ji You took over from Yan Shuyi: “Do you remember the Zhuguo fruit that turned to ash when we left? The same thing happened to them—those people turned to ash as soon as they stepped out of the mountains, rejected by Heaven’s Dao.”

Yan Shuyi glanced at Ji You: “He says if this is true, then one thing doesn’t hold up.”

“What thing?”

“If everyone who gained the immortal fortune couldn’t leave the ruins, then how did those demonic seeds with human consciousness appear in Shengjing before?”

After hearing this, Yuan Caimei immediately frowned; the matter was too eerie—she must set out with her younger brother as soon as possible.

A moment later, she paused slightly and looked up at the two of them.

She wasn’t sure if she was overthinking it, but she felt they had just sounded like they were playing off each other.

Yan Shuyi didn’t feel that way; she thought her cold demeanor before everyone today had been perfectly measured—even Ding Yao hadn’t noticed, her expression perfectly natural.

But she didn’t realize at that moment that when both of them turned sideways to speak to Yuan Caimei, Ji You had seemed ready to pull her into his arms—and yet he was perfectly fine with being so close to her.

Human interaction has a comfortable range; too much intrusion causes revulsion, especially between opposite sexes, where the distance is greater than between same sexes.

Yet between these two, there seemed to be no such rule…

(Writing and updating as I go today; will resume updates at 20:00 tomorrow—requesting monthly votes and first subscriptions… or2)

(End of Chapter)