“How much longer do we have to walk?”
Cui Mingcan stopped, panting heavily. “The sun’s about to set, and we still haven’t reached the next inn! Look at this place—nothing but wilderness. What if there are ghosts around?”
Cen Ying snorted. “You’re a cultivator. How can you be afraid of ghosts?”
“Who says cultivators can’t be afraid? I’m a pure and innocent young man of eighteen—I’m terrified of this kind of thing!” Cui Mingcan grumbled, pulling his robes tighter. Watching Bai Yuheng walking ahead of them, he suddenly came up with a dangerous thought. “You’re not planning to kill us to keep us quiet, are you?”
He quickened his pace, walked up to her, and demanded, “Don’t tell me you’re lost?”
“…” Bai Yuheng wiped her forehead, speechless.
Seeing her guilty expression, Cui Mingcan’s temper flared. “Ha! I knew it! You look reliable, but you’re totally not!”
Cen Ying smacked the back of his head. “Stop yelling! When it was your turn to lead, you got lazy. Now that someone else’s doing it, you complain? You’ve got no right to criticize anyone!”
“Ow, ow! Auntie, I was wrong! I was wrong!” Cui Mingcan cried as she twisted his ear.
Bai Yuheng rescued him from Cen Ying’s grasp and said gently, “Alright, don’t blame him. It’s true—I led us the wrong way. My fault.”
She admitted her mistake sincerely.
In truth, she had forgotten she was terrible with directions. She’d always relied on her mount—the white luan bird—to guide her when she traveled. After taking Pei Yuan as her disciple, he usually led the way instead. She had never needed to worry about navigation herself.
Now, she couldn’t help but miss them both a little.
“Caw—!”
A sharp cry echoed through the silent forest.
Cui Mingcan’s hair stood on end. Without caring about propriety, he immediately leaped forward and wrapped his arms and legs around Cen Ying.
“…”
“Could you be any more cowardly?” Cen Ying said flatly, exasperated.
“Get off me!” she snapped, trying to move but unable to straighten her back.
“I won’t! I’m scared,” Cui Mingcan whimpered, clinging to her as he nervously scanned the trees.
“What are you looking for?”
“Ahhhhh!!!”
His gaze suddenly met Bai Yuheng’s face, peeking curiously from behind—and he screamed bloody murder, practically jumping out of his skin. He flailed, then in one bound, latched onto the sturdier Li Tiankuo instead.
Bai Yuheng covered her mouth, laughing, while Cen Ying leaned on her shoulder, joining in.
“Pathetic,” Cen Ying said, smirking.
Cui Mingcan glared at them both furiously. “You two are awful! Bai Yuheng, you’ve turned evil! How dare you scare me! You wicked women! I’m never talking to you again!”
He clung to Li Tiankuo even tighter. “Brother Li, from now on, I’m sticking with you.”
Li Tiankuo looked down at him with a faint glance. “Don’t. I don’t take on useless baggage.”
Snap!
Somewhere, a young man’s fragile heart shattered.
Cui Mingcan wailed, “Brother Li, even you despise me! I—I—I’ll haunt you when I die!”
Li Tiankuo: “…”
Bai Yuheng and Cen Ying both burst into laughter.
“Hahahaha! Coward! Big coward Cui Mingcan!”
Cui Mingcan ignored them, sulking as he kept a death grip on Li Tiankuo.
“Caw—!”
The cry echoed again.
“Maybe there is something in these woods,” Cui Mingcan muttered nervously. “Like… a monster with ten-meter legs and a human face but a beast’s mouth!”
Cen Ying gave him a look. “You’ve been reading The Classic of Mountains and Seas again, haven’t you?”
“Hmph, I’m not talking to you.”
The four of them walked cautiously along the mountain path, the bird’s cries growing louder. They stopped, scanning their surroundings carefully.
“Caw—!”
Bai Yuheng’s eyelid twitched. That call sounded… familiar.
The next moment, a huge white bird burst through the trees, flying straight toward them like an arrow.
“Monster!”
Cui Mingcan screamed, jumped off Li Tiankuo’s back, and scrambled up a nearby tree.
“Whoosh—”
The bird slowed gracefully, landing before them with poise, tilting its head curiously as it studied the group.
Li Tiankuo raised his sword but hesitated.
“Caw!”
Its bright eyes locked onto the woman in red. It chirped softly and stretched out its beak to sniff her.
“Be careful, Yuer!” Cen Ying warned, silver needle ready between her fingers.
“It’s fine…” Bai Yuheng said, rubbing her temple. She glanced around and then reached out to stroke the bird’s head.
“Caw! Caw!”
The luan bird fluttered its wings happily, scattering dust everywhere.
Cui Mingcan slid sheepishly down the tree. “It knows you?” he asked, suspicious. “You two know each other?”
Bai Yuheng feigned innocence. “Of course not. I’ve been with you all this time—how would I know it?”
“But it seems really attached to you.”
“Caw!”
—It was offended.
Bai Yuheng quickly soothed it, lying through her teeth. “Maybe it just likes me. Who wouldn’t? I’m charming! Everyone loves me—people, birds, flowers…”
“…” Cui Mingcan groaned. “You’ve got the thickest skin I’ve ever seen.”
He reached out to pet the bird’s head.
“Caw!”
“Ow!” He yelped, jerking his hand back and shaking it. “Why’d it peck me?!”
Cen Ying laughed. “You seriously have to ask?”
“…” Cui Mingcan sulked.
Cen Ying grinned at the bird. “Spirit bird, what are you doing here all alone? Do you have a master?”
Cui Mingcan muttered, “Spirit bird? More like flirt bird,” earning himself a glare from the creature. He ducked behind Li Tiankuo.
Bai Yuheng kept petting it gently. “Is your master nearby?”
“Caw!”
—Behind you.
She pretended not to understand.
“It’s so smart,” Cen Ying said, delighted. “It answers every question, even if we can’t understand it.”
“Yes,” Bai Yuheng agreed lightly. “Whoever owns such a lovely bird must be quite lovely themselves.”
“Caw! Caw!”
—You’re literally talking about yourself!
The bird, unsure if she understood, suddenly clamped its beak on her sleeve, swung her onto its back, and took off into the sky.
“Yuer!”
“Yuheng!”
Before the others could react, the luan bird soared high, carrying Bai Yuheng away.
“I’m fine!” she called down to them.
It circled above them a few times, then dove deep into the forest.
Streams trickled down a nearby cliff, feeding into a small brook.
In the middle of the stream stood a man in white, poised and straight-backed, hands clasped behind him. Hearing the bird’s call, he turned slowly.
“P–Pei… Master,” Bai Yuheng corrected herself quickly.
She dismounted from the luan bird and bowed deeply. “This disciple greets Master. I didn’t know you were here—I’ve been discourteous.”
Pei Yuan said nothing. He simply stood there, quietly watching her.
Under his intense gaze, Bai Yuheng’s scalp prickled. Does he know? she wondered.
No—he probably didn’t. Not yet. Maybe he suspected, but wasn’t sure.
She remembered that mission long ago, when she had to disguise herself to capture a demon. He’d been there, too, and had seen through her disguise with one glance.
Her target back then had looked over curiously—a handsome youth staring at him—and Pei Yuan had frowned, asking, “Who’s that? Do you know him?”
She had smiled softly, slipped her arm through his, and replied, “No.”
Later that night, the same youth had appeared in her room, eyes full of hurt like an abandoned puppy.
She’d sighed, coaxing gently, “Why are you here? And why no candlelight?”
Pouring him tea, she smiled. “Sit.”
He ignored the cup and instead grabbed her hand, pressing it against his cheek. “Master… do you not want me anymore?”
He knew she had to lie for the mission, yet still, he looked so fragile it almost broke her heart.
“Good child,” she had murmured, touching his face softly. She’d never raised a disciple before—only taught students at the mountain academy—so she had always been patient with him. “It was only part of the mission. I’ll never truly abandon you.”
“Really?” he’d asked softly.
“Really.”
“If you take new disciples someday… will you still keep me?” he’d whispered, rubbing his cheek against her palm like a cat.
She’d smiled faintly. “No. You’ll be my only one.”
His eyes lit up, his lips curving in joy. “Truly?”
“…Yes.”
“Then I’ll always treat you well, Master.”
“…Alright.”
She had smiled, too—thinking how easily children could be comforted, and that having only one such obedient pupil wasn’t a bad thing.
Now, reality and memory blurred. The gentle boy she once knew was gone, replaced by a tall, cold man whose dark eyes hid emotions she could no longer read.
He still said nothing.
She told herself again that he probably didn’t know her true identity. If he did, he’d already have come running—like before—his pitiful eyes silently begging her to say she still wanted him.
“…” Bai Yuheng couldn’t stand the silence anymore. His gaze was heavy, unreadable. “Master,” she asked carefully, “what are you thinking about?”
Pei Yuan stepped closer, his boots splashing lightly in the stream. Standing before her, he looked down from his great height, eyes fixed on her face.
She instinctively took a step back, tilting her head up to meet his gaze—and in that moment, she truly saw how much he had changed.
Tall and broad-shouldered, the faint line of his throat visible beneath his collar, his once-soft features now sharp and striking. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something deep and dark.
His gaze lingered—on her smooth forehead, her slender brows, her long lashes, her bright eyes, her delicate nose, her soft pink lips…
His Adam’s apple bobbed sharply.
Then, in a low, husky voice, he answered her question—
“I’m thinking about you.”