The next day, as dawn broke.
Wu Ping’an had just risen and propped open the window shutter when she looked outside to see a noble, snow-white figure standing in the courtyard beyond the carpet of pink petals.
It was Ji Yuwei.
He seemed particularly fond of changing clothes—just yesterday she had seen him wear two different outfits. Today he was dressed in a white robe, each garment uniquely beautiful in its own way.
However, given how handsome his face was, Wu Ping’an could understand. He appeared quite young, and in this era that sought to realize political ideals through literary aspirations yet feared the unpredictable tides of officialdom, his love for beauty—without the indecency of baring his chest or exposing himself when meeting others—already marked him as a gentleman of considerable refinement.
“Lady Wu, you’re awake,” he said from a distance, bowing to her with clasped hands.
Today’s sunlight was especially bright. Wu Ping’an gazed at him for a long while. She had also pondered all night, truly unable to find any trace of a Black Mud man in him. By all appearances, he seemed a gentleman whose demeanor reflected his inner goodness.
She stepped out of the room, her hair tied back with a ribbon, fully revealing her face.
Ji Yuwei looked at her face, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly before relaxing. He then examined the long skirt she wore and remarked, “My lady seems rather unaccustomed to wearing this.”
Wu Ping’an tugged at her sleeve and replied honestly, “Yes, I’ve never worn this kind of skirt before. Usually, I wear short jackets and trousers. This is too cumbersome and inconvenient for movement.”
A hint of regret appeared on Ji Yuwei’s face. “My apologies. I had assumed your world was similar to this one, so I specially prepared for you an immortal’s robe from ancient paintings. I never imagined you would find it uncomfortable.”
Hearing him still regard her as an immortal, Wu Ping’an felt so awkward she could have dug her toes into the ground. “No, our place isn’t the Divine Realm. In fact, it’s not very different from here.”
Ji Yuwei walked in from outside, followed silently by a servant who swept away the petals blocking the path before him with a broom.
Wu Ping’an watched as the young man moved with grace and nobility, like a celestial being treading upon the clouds.
He sat on a stone stool cushioned with a mat and invited her to join him. “Lady Wu, could you tell me about your era—how people dress, how they walk, and how they defend against demons?”
Wu Ping’an realized he truly had a lot of free time. Perhaps it was because the events from the novel hadn’t yet begun, and he didn’t need to play the role of a troublemaker for the male and female leads. At this moment, he seemed remarkably human, his curiosity even appearing innocent and pure.
She sat on the stool beside him and inadvertently noticed that he had tucked in his sleeves, as if afraid the wind might blow them toward her even from such a distance.
A wave of speechlessness washed over her heart.
Hah, she wasn’t unhappy about it. Really.
Wu Ping’an kept her eyes lowered and said, “Actually, it’s really not much different from here. Perhaps in about a thousand years or so, your world will look exactly the same.”
“A thousand years?” he exclaimed in surprise, a faint light flickering in his eyes. “So people in your world can live for over a thousand years.”
Wu Ping’an hurriedly clarified, “No, I meant the passage of time—a thousand years of historical change.”
He sighed softly, then casually inquired about her age.
Wu Ping’an replied, “Twenty-five.”
Ji Yuwei seemed to frown again and informed her, “I just turned eighteen earlier this year.”
“Oh…” Wu Ping’an could tell he was indeed very young. At first glance, she had thought he might have just reached adulthood.
Now that Ji Yuwei had suddenly revealed his age, she felt no surprise at all—only a sense of bewilderment.
Could it be that he wanted her to feel inferior and marvel at his youthful achievements?
But she didn’t think Ji Yuwei seemed like that kind of person.
“Please continue, my lady,” he reassured her with his gaze. “I understand.”
Wu Ping’an wasn’t sure if he truly understood, but encouraged by his look, she went on to say more.
In her era, there were no demons, so there was no need for nobles skilled in spellcraft to exterminate demons, monsters, beasts, or ghosts as required in this dynasty. They didn’t need to cultivate, yet they could still fly through the skies in airplanes, travel thousands of miles at high speeds in cars and high-speed trains, and even possessed many idealized devices that were nearly impossible to achieve in this dynasty, even with a lifetime of effort.
Wu Ping’an referred to these as science, but Ji Yuwei felt that what she described was the Divine Realm—replacing hearts, opening skulls, performing cesarean sections… these things that were certain death, she spoke of them so effortlessly, making one yearn for such a place.
How could it not be so?
Resting his chin on one hand, he listened attentively, and when she grew tired, he thoughtfully offered her a cup of hot tea.
Mentioning the era from her memories, Wu Ping’an felt an unprecedented sense of ease. She instinctively took the hot tea from his hand. “Thank you.”
Her fingertips accidentally brushed against his hand, and the cup slipped from her grasp, spilling the hot water all over his robe.
“Sorry,” Wu Ping’an thought she hadn’t held it steady. Knowing he valued cleanliness, she sincerely apologized.
The young man furrowed his delicate brows, unable to hide the disgust on his face. The attendants beside him, accustomed to such situations, took out a new set of robes from the box they carried on their backs.
“Young master.”
Ji Yuwei forced his expression to soften and asked Wu Ping’an, “May I borrow your esteemed space to change clothes?”
Wu Ping’an glanced at the robes, unsure how to describe her feelings, and nodded. “…Yes, please go ahead, young master.”
“Thank you.”
Ji Yuwei calmly took the robes, stood up, and walked leisurely into the inner room.
Once he was out of sight, Wu Ping’an couldn’t help but ask the attendants, “What do you carry on your backs?”
One attendant replied, “Answering the lady, I carry the young master’s daily necessities for changing.”
The other answered, “Talismans, folding swords, and money.”
Wu Ping’an: “…Alright.”
She whispered with the two attendants outside, unaware that everything was observed by the person inside the room.
Ji Yuwei calmly removed the wooden rod, closed the window, turned around, and stood before the bronze mirror, removing his soiled robes.
Gradually, the mirror revealed the superior contours of the young man’s well-developed physique. In Dongli, where slender and bony figures were considered beautiful, he was not seen as sickly. Despite taking medicine regularly, his body was fair and healthy.
Ji Yuwei coldly examined the beautiful appearance in the mirror, thinking about what Wu Ping’an had said.
To soar into the clouds, to traverse hundreds of meters in an instant, to revive the dead, to heal bones, to open skulls and abdomens, and to live in harmony—how could that not be the Divine Realm?
Even if it wasn’t, it was still better than this dynasty filled with ugly demons, monsters, beasts, and ghosts, reeking of foul odors. If he could go to that Divine Realm, exchange his body, live a long life without fearing death or life, and do as he pleased…
The young man’s delicate face in the mirror flushed red, and the corners of his phoenix-tail-like eyes grew moist. He leaned one hand against the bronze mirror, carefully examining his body.
He was known far and wide for his beauty, his pleasant voice, his skill in playing the qin and painting, his courteous treatment of others, and his lack of the debauched habits common among clan youths. He was considered the purest, most desirable blank canvas in the world.
From Wu Ping’an’s eyes, he had seen countless moments of awe.
Who doesn’t appreciate beauty?
Ji Yuwei smiled as he caressed his reflection in the mirror. Even he loved himself—the physical body was merely an external shell. Living a long and enduring life was what truly mattered.
Though Wu Ping’an was unsightly to the eye and far too old, he had no need to sacrifice himself to seduce her. At the right moment, a single glance from him would suffice, and sooner or later, she would offer him everything like a devoted dog.
Pleased, he changed into a new robe, his gaze sweeping over the youth in the mirror before he turned and strode leisurely out of the room.
Beneath the peach blossom tree, Wu Ping’an was still speaking with the young servant. Startled by his approach, she glanced back briefly.
He wore a robe of peach-blossom pink, which made his face appear even more radiant and delicate than before.
“You’ve waited long, my lady,” he said gently, sitting beside her. The vermilion mark between his brows seemed to take on a faint pink hue as well.
Pink was a color that tested one’s complexion—worn well, it was tender and pleasing to the eye; worn poorly, it was an eyesore. Clearly, Ji Yuwei suited every color.
Wu Ping’an asked, “I haven’t yet asked, Fifth Young Master, did you find the monster beast with the breath you took from me yesterday?”
Ji Yuwei shook his head, the smile at his lips fading slightly. “No, which is why I’ve come to seek you out today, my lady.”
Wu Ping’an thought to take the opportunity to say that perhaps she carried no trace of Ji Yulian’s living essence at all, and it would be better to let her go. Ji Yuwei saw right through her.
“My lady wishes to leave.”
Wu Ping’an remained silent, tacitly agreeing.
He sighed softly, appearing somewhat troubled. “But my lady has already promised Yuwei to search for the monster beast together. If you leave like this now, where will Yuwei go to find you?”
Unaffected by his words, Wu Ping’an spoke rationally, “Yet the living essence you took from me didn’t lead you to anyone. Keeping me here won’t truly help you.”
Ji Yuwei considered this seriously. “My lady speaks reason. Might Yuwei take another breath from you, from a better location, to test whether there is any trace? If there truly is none, Yuwei will escort you away and offer generous gifts.”
The better location was the chest, as he had mentioned before.
After much thought, Wu Ping’an agreed, if only to secure her departure.
To help her relax, Ji Yuwei dismissed the young servant.
Only the two of them remained in the peach-pink courtyard. Turning, Ji Yuwei saw Wu Ping’an remove her intricate skirt, revealing the simple, unadorned garment beneath. The chest wrap was white with a peach-blossom hue, above which her collarbones lay straight and defined.
She showed none of a maiden’s bashfulness, her outer garment still draped over her arm as she sat there naturally, gazing at him. “Will this do?”
Author’s Note:
Current Mountain Ghost: For the sake of longevity, I endure, I sacrifice…
Ping’an: [Shattered]
Later Mountain Ghost: Wife, look at me—I’m young, beautiful, and in good health. I can bring you joy. Don’t leave me, wife! Wife, look at me! Wife, give me another chance—I’ll serve you well, I promise! Wife, look at me, just one glance—
Ping’an: Oh, I almost forgot. You said I was ugly, and old.
Mountain Ghost, deceased.