Next to the towering peaks of Cangxuan Mountain stood Xiwu Peak, and at its summit lay Mirror Lake.
Qu Xiangxiang craned her neck to look up at the sheer height of Xiwu Peak, her heart tightening. “How are we supposed to get up there?”
Mu Hanzhang flicked his wrist, and a silver sword gleamed into existence in his palm. “By sword flight.” He glanced at her as he spoke.
Qu Xiangxiang: “…” Did he think she was an idiot?
Remembering her disastrous landing earlier and looking at the endless mountain, she shivered. Before worrying about being eaten by venomous snakes, she feared her terrible technique would send her tumbling off the sword to her death. She forced a dry laugh, trying to sound considerate. “But… but with your cultivation, isn’t sword flight too much of a strain?”
“Just sword flight.” Mu Hanzhang gave a faint, mocking smile, then reversed the sword and offered it to her. “If you don’t trust me, why don’t you take the lead?”
Qu Xiangxiang eyed the sword in his hand. “…Are you doing this on purpose?”
“That’s what I should be asking you.” His phoenix eyes, dark as a cold pool, lifted slightly, his tone layered with meaning.
Thinking he referred to what had happened earlier, she touched her nose nervously and looked away.
Mu Hanzhang narrowed his eyes, cast a spell, and let the sword hover at his feet. He stepped onto it first. “Get on.”
He wants to take her with him? Qu Xiangxiang wondered if her ears were malfunctioning.
“If you don’t want to, climb up yourself.”
“I do, I do!”
Afraid he’d change his mind, she hopped on like a rabbit. She hadn’t even steadied herself before she lurched backward, wind roaring in her ears.
“Mu… Mu Hanzhang, slow down!”
“I… I can’t take this!”
“Ahhh, too fast!”
The rapid ascent made her heart pound uncontrollably. She clung tightly to his waist, her pale face pressed against his back, her screams echoing through the valley, again and again.
Mu Hanzhang: “…” Did she even realize what she was saying?
“Stop shouting!” He closed his eyes in irritation. “And let go of me. Don’t touch me!”
Qu Xiangxiang, both aggrieved and terrified, grew bold. She tightened her grip around his slim waist, then muttered resentfully: “Your waist is thinner than mine.”
Mu Hanzhang, at the end of his patience: “…Say one more word and I’ll throw you off.”
Qu Xiangxiang: “…” So there was no law in the cultivation world. Realizing this, she shut her mouth tightly.
She hadn’t expected the summit of Xiwu Peak to be so desolate.
Only a bleak stone forest stretched around them, gray and lifeless. Mirror Lake lay at its center, its surface unnaturally still, dark and heavy, exuding a faint aura of death.
Qu Xiangxiang couldn’t understand—why would couples choose such an ominous place for secret meetings?
“What do you want to tell me?” Uneasy, she only wanted to leave quickly.
Mu Hanzhang stared into the depths of Mirror Lake, silent for a long time before asking: “Why did you do it?”
“What?” Qu Xiangxiang was baffled by the sudden question.
“The back mountain.”
She thought for a moment, then realized—he was asking why she had blocked the Ghost-Faced Spider’s silk ball for him.
So he had gone to all this trouble, bringing her here, just to ask that? Qu Xiangxiang pursed her lips. He really was difficult.
“I didn’t think much at the time. I just didn’t want you to die,” she admitted, a little guilty.
Mu Hanzhang’s brows furrowed. “Why didn’t you want me to die?” His phoenix eyes lifted, sharp as ice shards, his smile cold and careless.
“You already know, don’t you?”
A chill ran down her spine, fear weaving around her like spider silk.
Forcing a smile, she feigned confusion. “Know what?”
He suddenly raised his hand and sliced the air. A deafening crack resounded as a massive boulder nearby was cleaved in half.
Qu Xiangxiang: “…” Great. Now she seriously suspected he had lured her here to kill her and dump her body in Mirror Lake.
And she had foolishly followed him. Help!
“Heh.” The boy’s voice was like icy streamwater flowing through a winter ravine—clear and cold. His phoenix eyes were deeper than Mirror Lake itself. “Since you already know, why keep pretending?”
She was certain—she would die here.
Qu Xiangxiang’s palms turned clammy, her mind flashing with that terrifying thought.
Mu Hanzhang looked at her face, suddenly pale, and felt a strange flicker of satisfaction. Raising his brows, he continued: “In that case, Qu Xiangxiang, what exactly do you want from me?”
“N-no, it’s not what you think…” Driven by sheer survival instinct, Qu Xiangxiang blurted out the excuse she thought perfect in that split second. She clenched her teeth, shut her eyes, and shouted: “Because I like you!”
“Bullying you was just to get your attention. Back on the mountain, I was afraid you’d die. I didn’t expose your secret because I worried you’d be expelled from Cangxuan Mountain—and then… then I wouldn’t see you again!”
“I like you so much. Everything I did was just to make you look at me!”
*To live.* That was her only thought at this moment.
She knew Mu Hanzhang would never like her. But to save her life, she couldn’t think of any better excuse. Her confession came out fierce and desperate. Yet after a long silence, she heard nothing. Nervously, she touched her neck, then cracked her eyes open just a sliver.
Mu Hanzhang’s lids were half lowered. His face, always expressionless, showed no surprise, no emotion at all.
Did he believe her—or not? It was the first time in two lifetimes she had confessed to someone. Even if it was only to survive, his gaze—colder than when facing the Ghost-Faced Spider—stung her deeply.
She was the famed beauty of Cangxuan Mountain. Couldn’t he at least react? Otherwise, how was she supposed to know if she’d live or die?
“…Oh?”
At last, Mu Hanzhang uttered a single word.
“Oh”? What did that mean?
Qu Xiangxiang asked cautiously: “…You don’t believe I like you?”
“I don’t.” He shook his head. “Unless… you prove it.”
How was she supposed to prove that?
Before she could think, Mu Hanzhang took a few steps forward and leapt straight into the deathly still Mirror Lake.
Qu Xiangxiang: “…”
Mu Hanzhang jumped into the lake? Even if he was the male lead, wasn’t this insane? Shouldn’t he see a doctor?
She covered her face in despair. Clearly, he hadn’t jumped to kill himself. He was the male lead, blessed by fate. Even if he leapt from Xiwu Peak itself, or got smashed hundreds of times by the Ghost-Faced Spider’s silk balls, he wouldn’t die. Which meant—when he came back, he’d know she had lied. And then she’d die miserably. Either way, she was doomed. She could only gamble.
Face twisted in pain, Qu Xiangxiang stepped to the lake’s edge. For safety, she slapped on a breath-holding talisman, prayed to every god she could think of, and finally forced herself to jump into Mirror Lake.
So unfair!
Cannon fodder really had no human rights. The male lead was just too much!