Xie Ciyou raised his hand, plucking a plum blossom petal that had fallen onto Shi Qing’s face.
Shi Qing drifted into a heavy, groggy dream. In it, he saw his distant past life—the rare, free period of his youth when he lived as Shi Shuangyu.
He had transmigrated into the book long before the official plot began. After being picked up by Old Ancestor Wuxu at the age of seven, he stayed dutifully at Qingji Peak, working hard to reach the required cultivation level for the future storyline. His system spent most of its time dormant, rarely surfacing to interfere with him.
That year, dressed in the blue and white narrow-sleeved robes of a Qingyun Sect inner disciple, he stood in a snow-covered courtyard at the peak of Aowu Pavilion, holding his sword, Chunfeng.
This was the first time he met the strongest NPC and the “human ceiling” of the setting, Xie Ciyou.
Though the two met during their most unrestrained teenage years, they simply stared at each other, standing in silence.
At fifteen, Xie Ciyou was as elegant as a jade tree with a face like carved stone. Even though Shi Qing already knew the character descriptions, he was momentarily dazed by that face, which had already grown to be breathtakingly beautiful.
Xie Ciyou was the character who left the deepest impression on him after reading the book. Although he did not appear often, he was the pillar of the immortal world before the protagonist, Gu Yan, matured. Once the protagonist grew up, Xie Ciyou seemingly withdrew from the world to make way for him.
Compared to Gu Yan’s revenge-driven growth plot, every one of Xie Ciyou’s appearances struck a chord with Shi Qing. He always felt that only someone like Xie Ciyou, untouched by the red dust of the mortal world and devoted solely to saving all living beings, was the true image of a celestial being.
This was something the world-loving Shi Qing could never achieve.
The “immortal” Xie Ciyou stood a short distance away. He seemed surprised by Shi Qing’s sudden arrival from the sky, maintaining a cold and distant demeanor while observing him silently. A cold wind whipped up the thick snow on the ground, sending flakes dancing between them.
Shi Qing’s personality differed from his book setting; he was not naturally cold or laconic. It was just that since his soul crossed over, he had been left to his own devices on Qingji Peak for so long that he ended up talking to spiritual plants and beasts out of boredom. The book never mentioned what happened before meeting Gu Yan, so he had not known he would meet Xie Ciyou in his youth.
Shi Qing felt curious about this future decisive leader who would frequently discipline the protagonist. Perhaps because he had not seen a human in so long, he felt a strange, inexplicable nervousness.
He blamed Old Ancestor Wuxu for dropping him off and immediately running away to find Pavilion Master Ningyu.
Shi Qing composed himself and broke the silence first. “I am Shi Qing, courtesy name Shuangyu, a disciple under Old Ancestor Wuxu of the Qingyun Sect. I am sixteen years old, with a Nascent Soul cultivation.” He stopped, realizing he might be oversharing. To ease the awkwardness, he gave a bright smile to the expressionless Xie Ciyou and explained, “My master ditched me to go catch up with yours.”
Shi Qing rubbed his nose uncomfortably. After listening, a flash of understanding crossed Xie Ciyou’s eyes. He returned the greeting politely. “Xie Ciyou. No courtesy name. Fifteen years old. Nascent Soul.”
As expected, even the beauty’s voice is cold and pleasant, Shi Qing thought.
He watched Xie Ciyou walk past him without expression. A corner of the white robes brushed against Shi Qing’s fingers; the touch was slightly cool, much like the owner, a bit icy and detached.
Aowu Pavilion sat atop a mountain in the far north, where snow never melted. From the mountain gate to the Sword Pavilion, there were 9,999 steps winding up the cliff. Exquisite palaces were built on flat ground along the stairs. Only Pavilion Master Ningyu and his personal disciple, Xie Ciyou, lived in the Pavilion Master’s Hall.
The hall was next to the Sword Pavilion at the summit. As Xie Ciyou walked ahead, Shi Qing followed behind, playfully stepping into Xie Ciyou’s footprints, following him pace for pace.
Xie Ciyou paused and looked back at the smiling youth. “Why are you following me?”
“I am a stranger in a strange land. Since I was dumped with you, who else should I follow if not you?”
Shi Qing grinned at him, his eyes curving into crescents. In that silver world of ice and snow, the mole beneath his eye looked like a drop of ink on a painting.
Xie Ciyou stared at him for a moment before saying flatly, “I am going to practice my sword.”
Shi Qing nodded to show he understood. Xie Ciyou turned and continued walking; Shi Qing kept following, and Xie Ciyou did not look back again.
Snow began to fall. As cultivators, they feared neither heat nor cold. They let the flakes settle on their heads and shoulders. The surroundings were silent, save for the crunch of two pairs of feet on the snow.
At first, Shi Qing leaned against a nearby plum tree, pretending to watch Xie Ciyou’s practice nonchalantly.
The sword energy was like a rainbow, the intent like frost, and the momentum powerful enough to break mountains and seas. Xie Ciyou’s moves were fast, precise, and ruthless. Watching it made Shi Qing’s hands itch, and he could not help but draw his own sword and join in.
Clang! The two swords collided. Their eyes met, and Shi Qing smiled. “Please advise me.”
Shi Qing’s sword style was ever-changing and fluid, his posture as graceful as a roaming dragon.
The two became locked in combat. Within moments, hundreds of moves had passed. The more they fought, the brighter their eyes became.
With a wave of his hand, Shi Qing’s sword energy felt like a spring breeze, yet it carried the sharpness of ten thousand needles. Xie Ciyou raised his sword vertically before him, tip pointing down. He surged his spiritual power, spinning the blade to dissipate the rain-like energy hidden in the breeze.
Xie Ciyou’s counterattack lacked flashy technique; it was a lightning-fast thrust. Before the blade arrived, a frigid chill pierced through the wind and snow toward Shi Qing. Shi Qing reacted instantly, leaping into the air, his robes fluttering as he evaded the strike.
They fought from broad daylight until dusk, from hundreds of moves to thousands, until they eventually lost count. Finally, both collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion, the duel ending in a draw.
Shi Qing turned his head. Xie Ciyou was lying beside him, panting just as hard. The lines of his handsome profile were like exquisitely carved jade. After the intense battle, his face held a flush of color that had not yet been swallowed by the night, making him look a bit more mortal.
“Today was truly satisfying,” Shi Qing thought, letting out a joyful laugh, his eyes shining like a galaxy.
Xie Ciyou also turned his head to look. Thousands of plum petals, swept up by the sword energy, fell like colorful snow.
As the wind blew, a few petals kissed Shi Qing’s temple.
Xie Ciyou raised his hand and plucked the plum petal from Shi Qing’s face. The other man was fast asleep, his previously knitted brows now relaxed, though his face remained pale. Xie Ciyou let go of the other’s wrist and stood up. He brushed the petals off the windowsill and closed the half-open window. Then, he sat down behind the study couch and signaled for Zhong Ling, who was waiting nearby, to speak.
Zhong Ling had followed Xie Ciyou back to Aowu Pavilion and had been reporting in this room for the past few days. He kept his head down, not daring to look at the person on the bed. However, he could not help but notice that every time he came, the Pavilion Master was sitting by the bedside, holding the man’s wrist to transfer spiritual power without pause.
If he had not seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed the Pavilion Master could treasure anyone this much.
“Well?”
“Everything has been handled. Dongfang Yuqing blew himself up before he died, so he could not be soul-searched. Since only Aowu Pavilion disciples were present, we told the public that Young Master Fang was injured while assisting the Pavilion Master in exorcising demons and was brought back here for treatment. The Sect Leader of Qingyun naturally agreed. However, Gu Zhanyue heard of this and has rushed back to Qingyun Sect. He even told Xia Chan…”
Xie Ciyou looked up, gesturing for him to continue.
“He said that Qingyun Sect people do not need Aowu Pavilion to intervene and requested that the Pavilion Master return the person as soon as possible.”
Zhong Ling secretly observed his master’s expression. Having followed him for years, he could detect the emotions beneath that stoic face.
For instance, toward the various immortal families, the Pavilion Master was merely indifferent. But toward this Immortal Master Zhanyue, he seemed particularly displeased.
If there was one person Zhong Ling could not quite figure out, it was the late Immortal Master Shuangyu. The Pavilion Master seemed exceptionally concerned about him. Whether it was hatred or some other emotion, Zhong Ling could not say, but he felt it was not the mutual animosity the rumors suggested.
Sure enough, the Pavilion Master’s face darkened. “Ignore him. Tell Xia Chan to come back.”
“Yes.” Zhong Ling felt relieved. He was annoyed to death by Xia Chan, who complained that Chen Ji from the Qingyun Sect challenged him to a duel every single day.
Just then, the person on the bed muttered something. Xie Ciyou immediately stood and went to the bedside. As Zhong Ling hesitated whether to leave, he heard the man on the bed mumble something. It sounded like… roast chicken?
Zhong Ling walked out of the hall in a daze. The Pavilion Master had asked him to go buy roast chicken, and with extra spicy seasoning?
Perhaps because he was starving after all the exhaustion, Shi Qing’s dreams were filled with memories of making roast chicken in his youth, both at Qingji Peak and Aowu Pavilion.
In his opinion, cultivation was for the sake of a longer life to enjoy more earthly pleasures, not to become an ascetic monk. Therefore, even though meditation could restore energy and aid cultivation, he still slept on schedule every day and ate whenever he had a craving.
However, after dueling Xie Ciyou, he began to feel a sense of crisis. His daily sleep turned into meditation as he fought for every second to cultivate, fearing Xie Ciyou would overtake him.
The only thing he could not give up was his appetite. One day, overcome by a craving after practicing in the plum grove, he skipped the library and went deep into the snowy mountains behind Aowu Pavilion to find spiritual beasts. It took him a long time to catch a five-colored pheasant nesting in a cave.
Before he knew it, it was 2:00 PM. Shi Qing leaned against a protruding rock and sat on the ground. He tore off a drumstick that was charred on the outside and tender on the inside, pulled a bag of spicy spices from his spatial pouch to add a thick layer, and washed it down with peach blossom wine brewed at Qingji Peak.
Such fine food and wine, in such—well—a frozen wasteland. He had this world to himself; he was truly as happy as a god.
Suddenly, the grease-covered Shi Qing looked up and saw a real white-clad god. Xie Ciyou was standing under a red plum tree nearby, his gaze as calm as an ancient well.
Wasn’t it time for Xie Ciyou to be at the library?
Ever since they started dueling, they had a fixed routine: wake up at 5:00 AM to practice in the plum grove, return to their rooms at noon to meditate, go to the library together at 2:00 PM, and fight another duel outside the grove at 5:00 PM. Sometimes they stopped early, and sometimes they fought so hard they could not be separated, both gaining significant insights.
Spending every day together, Shi Qing had grown used to Xie Ciyou’s silent treatment. He amused himself along the way, throwing pebbles or kicking snow. Sometimes he would shake a tree to dump snow on Xie Ciyou’s head. Xie Ciyou never got angry; it was as if he had eyes in the back of his head, always conjuring a shield to deflect the snow before it hit him.
“Fairy, Immortal, what a coincidence to see you here!” Shi Qing casually tossed a chicken bone aside and waved for Xie Ciyou to come over.
Shi Qing had gotten used to calling him “Immortal.” The first time he said it, Xie Ciyou had replied seriously, “We are both ordinary cultivators. Why call me an Immortal?”
Shi Qing thought: Because you are as beautiful as a celestial! But he did not dare say that. Instead, he said, “It is just a title of respect to show my admiration. I mean no harm.” Then he gave a very sincere smile.
After that, Xie Ciyou let him use whatever title he wanted, though “Fairy” would occasionally slip out when Shi Qing looked at his face.
“I am not a woman. Is ‘Fairy’ also a sign of respect?” Xie Ciyou had asked.
“It is a compliment! It means you have an extraordinary bearing and a celestial aura. It is not exclusive to women. Or do you look down on the title of Fairy?” Shi Qing’s ability to talk nonsense in front of Xie Ciyou grew daily. Regardless, Xie Ciyou usually remained emotionless.
Watching Shi Qing wave, Xie Ciyou stood still for a moment before stepping closer. “So after sword practice, you have been here.” He glanced at the steaming roast chicken.
“That is right. I am a mortal of the red dust; I cannot live on air like you.” As he spoke, Shi Qing tore off a drumstick and offered it to him. Xie Ciyou did not take it. Thinking he might be disgusted by the grease, Shi Qing fished a handkerchief out of his spatial pouch to wrap it before offering it again.
The light green silk was embroidered with pink peach blossom petals; it did not look like a man’s handkerchief. Xie Ciyou still did not take it. “Where did this handkerchief come from?”
Shi Qing was not paying close attention. He busy pulling Xie Ciyou’s hand over and stuffing the drumstick into it. “It is delicious, trust my skills! Try it. Do you want more seasoning? It is a bit spicy, though.”
He noticed Xie Ciyou’s face darken slightly. Confused, Shi Qing asked, “What is wrong? Do not be mad just because you do not want to eat. What did you say? Handkerchief?”
Xie Ciyou nodded. Shi Qing thought for a moment but could not recall. “I forgot. I probably found it somewhere on Qingji Peak. I just thought it was convenient for wrapping food, so I kept it. Eat it before it gets cold!”
Xie Ciyou looked at the drumstick in his hand, then at him. He hesitated for a second, then took a bite.
“Well? Is it good?” Shi Qing waited expectantly for feedback.
Xie Ciyou looked at him and said softly, “It is good.”
Xie Ciyou began to eat slowly and methodically. Finally, as if he could not help himself, he looked up and met Shi Qing’s gaze. “Why do you keep staring at me?”
“It is rare! It is my first time seeing an Immortal eat. I guess you still have earthly desires after all,” Shi Qing said. Thinking of the future Xie Ciyou from the book, who seemed to have no emotions or desires, and seeing this beautiful “little snowman” chewing on his roast chicken felt strangely amusing.
Xie Ciyou did not understand. He simply said, “I am not an Immortal.”
Later, Shi Qing sprinkled a handful of spicy seasoning onto the drumstick in Xie Ciyou’s hand. The usually unflappable Xie Ciyou scrunched up his face, which Shi Qing found even more delightful.