Bathed in the gaze of Sword Sovereign Qingyan, Yu Sang‑sang felt not the slightest guilt. After all, though the former princess had rarely stepped beyond palace walls, she had devoured countless books. A seasoned reader of sweet romances, no less. So saying “I’ve long admired your name” was perfectly legitimate.
In fact, when Yin Mingjing had first appeared in the story, brimming with youthful pride, she had even dreamed of him, though that was something she could never confess to the aloof powerhouse before her.
“Um… you heard just now, didn’t you? I can glimpse the secrets of Heaven.” In this world, when in doubt, blame it on fate—no one could argue with that.
Determined to let Heaven’s mysteries serve as her shield, Yu Sang‑sang lifted her chin with righteous pride, as if she truly understood such cosmic truths. “Though we’ve never met, within Heaven’s design, Yu Mingjing and I are quite close.”
Close enough to have bought his character keychains—intimate indeed.
So she told the cold yet striking man before her, who himself had purchased Yu Mingjing’s collectible photo cards, “Besides, he is a good person. I think… it wouldn’t be right to hide this from him.”
For her own safety, she really shouldn’t flaunt her ability to divine Heaven’s secrets before strangers. In the cultivation world, though countless cultivators and mighty figures existed, those who could peer into destiny were rare. Such talent always drew attention.
Someone as weak as Yu Sang‑sang, yet gifted with this rare ability—if discovered by those with ill intent, the outcome would be grim. At best, she’d be locked away, forced to calculate Heaven’s secrets day after day.
She truly trusted Yin Mingjing if she was willing to speak of such things to him. Of course, she trusted Sword Sovereign Qingyan as well—she had even thought about offering him a “Heaven’s secrets package.” But after some thought, she held her tongue.
Yin Mingjing’s crisis lay in being plotted against; giving him a warning or two was helping him. Qingyan, however, was different. This man was plagued by inner demons, and he himself knew it. For him, such “Heaven’s secrets” would be useless.
Trust? Sword Sovereign Qingyan lowered his cold gaze, only to meet eyes that were utterly trusting, even concerned—eyes that seemed to believe he was truly a good man. That gaze was clear. So pure it made one who had endured countless trials find it laughable. “You don’t hate?” he asked coolly, changing the subject.
“Hate who?” Yu Sang‑sang blinked, caught off guard. Under the stare of those fox‑like eyes—eyes that held not a trace of tenderness—her lips twitched.
Well… Xian‑zhu really was impressive. Though Qingyan was dazzlingly handsome, he was so cold that he sent shivers down one’s spine. Yet she had fallen in love at first sight, unable to forget him? Still yearning to warm the Sword Sovereign’s heart? Then again… his fox tail really was warm. Fluffy, silky, with a marvelous feel.
Yu Sang‑sang forced herself not to commit any offense, turning her gaze away from the tuft of fur that occasionally peeked out behind the striking man.
Sword Sovereign Qingyan: …
It wasn’t paranoia. He simply couldn’t shake the feeling that this little girl was entertaining some utterly outrageous thoughts.
“Of course I hate them. But every grievance has its source, every debt its debtor. I only hate those who harmed my mother and me—no one else.” Yu Sang‑sang scratched her head and said honestly to Sword Sovereign Qingyan, “They treated me cruelly, yes… but there were also people who treated me kindly. So, well…”
Suddenly, inspiration struck. She recalled a saying that perfectly fit her experience and feelings: “Repay virtue with virtue, repay wrongs with justice.”
Those who wronged her, she kept a little black ledger for. But when she met good people, she was never stingy with her trust, always willing to reach out a hand.
Her words were candid, like the beautiful smile on her face at that moment. Qingyan found the gaze strangely piercing and said coolly, “We may not be good people at all.”
“How could that be?” Yu Sang‑sang’s eyes curved into a smile.
“You harbor doubts about me, yet when you heard Old Wang’s plea, you chose to give me a chance instead of killing me outright to ease your misgivings. Doesn’t that prove you’re a good man?”
Seeing his icy expression twitch ever so slightly, she waved her not‑so‑pampered hand and added, “I can tell. You want to talk to me about that black mist, don’t you?”
Anything that could make a cultivator of the Immortal rank pause was no ordinary thing. Back then, Qingyan had subdued her in an instant, unable to move at all—proof that the mist was no benevolent force. Yet in the end, he had studied her for a moment and done nothing to her, instead going to the trouble of bringing her back. If she truly carried a hidden danger, wouldn’t it have been far simpler for an Immortal to erase a mere ant?
Yu Sang‑sang smiled and waved again. “So, since Sword Sovereign is such a good man, I believe your disciples must be good people too. That’s just…” Another saying popped into her mind, and she declared with enthusiasm, “That’s just loving the house and its crow!”
Qingyan: … This little girl was in dire need of cultural lessons.
“Loving the house and its crow,” indeed… And yet, she was still a girl who spoke with disarming honesty—trusting him and, by extension, trusting his disciples. He lowered his gaze, meeting the face of a girl so beautiful even cultivators would praise it. His eyes did not waver at her beauty, but at her earnest “love the house and its crow,” a faint flicker stirred.
Qingyan was no green novice; he did not let himself be moved. He only said slowly, “So you can see it after all.”
She could clearly see the kind of situation she was in now, yet she still showed no fear—no dread that he might cut her down. Not only that, the little girl had already grown familiar enough to order his puppets around. She was cheerfully calling to one of the faceless servants in the distance: “Miss Sister, Miss Sister, bring me another plate of honey‑roasted meat!”
Her sweet little mouth seemed born for flattery—she wouldn’t even spare the puppets.
Sword Sovereign Qingyan watched the puppets coldly. They all looked identical. How could she tell one from another…?
One slightly thinner puppet—probably because he had used fewer materials when refining it—turned gracefully and headed toward the kitchen.
Qingyan fell silent for a moment, watching the girl’s blissful expression. She truly didn’t seem afraid of her circumstances. “That was the aura of *Li Xiu*,” he said at last.
His Daoist hall was always austere, quiet, and orderly. Even though he had three disciples, each was more disciplined than the last, none daring to act so carefree in his presence.
Qingyan felt it necessary to teach this girl some rules as well. He spoke suddenly, just as she was drooling in anticipation toward the doorway. She froze, lifted her head, and focused on him—clearly, when she said she’d been locked away and knew nothing, she hadn’t been lying.
But the so‑called aura of *Li Xiao* was little known in the cultivation world. Unless one specialized in such matters, ordinary cultivators rarely understood it. After all, it wasn’t something one encountered casually.
It was rare indeed to see this “Heaven’s‑secrets‑expert” little trickster not know. Qingyan sat down opposite her and said coolly, “It’s a bane that can turn people into monsters.”
“Monsters?” Yu Sang‑sang blinked in confusion and hurriedly looked down at her own body. Nothing had changed. Moreover, she had never seen mention of this so‑called *Li Xiao* aura in the books.
For something that could draw the attention of an Immortal‑rank cultivator, it was certainly no ordinary thing. Yet in the stories she had read, there had been no description of such a force. It was impossible she had overlooked it—she read carefully, savoring every sweet moment. Still, when Wei Li had hurled that aura at her, he had indeed said it would make her into the most pitiful of beings.
“*Li Xiao* aura is the most difficult evil to resist in this world. It is, in truth… a kind of power.” Sword Sovereign Qingyan had not lectured anyone with patience for many years. He himself did not know why he still had such patience and kindness for a stranger. Facing the table full of dishes, he had no interest at all, only continued coldly: “Once polluted and eroded by this aura, a person loses their soul, leaving only a body twisted into pure destruction and slaughter. In fact, once fully consumed, one is already considered dead—the primordial spirit devoured, the shell left empty, to be exterminated by cultivators as no longer human.”
Yu Sang‑sang drew in a sharp breath. This was cruelty that killed both body and spirit. Not only would the soul perish without rebirth, but the body itself would become a hollow monster, treated as less than human, destined for annihilation. But since it was Wei Li who had done this to her, she felt no surprise.
Wei Li would do anything for Xian‑zhu. She was Xian‑zhu’s thorn in the eye, so of course he would ensure she died in the most tragic way possible. It seemed killing Wei Li had been the right choice.
“But I…”
“*Li Xiao* aura erodes any living being it touches. The higher the cultivation, the longer one can resist. But you are only a Qi‑refining cultivator.”
A mighty expert might endure for a time through their own powers, but someone at the Qi‑refining stage could never withstand it.
Qingyan frowned slightly, his gaze flashing as it swept over her. She seemed perfectly fine. And that was the greatest problem. Once tainted, there was no escape. Its origin lay beyond even the Immortal rank, so not even Immortals could fully purge it. Yet this girl’s aura was utterly clean, as though nothing had happened. Strange indeed. Had he not happened to pass by and seen her engulfed in the aura, dissolving into her body, he would never have believed she had encountered such a thing.
Yu Sang‑sang stared wide‑eyed, listening blankly. What was this? Such a terrifying evil, and Wei Li could carry it around with him? An aura that even Immortals could not expel, only resist—wasn’t that a bit too defiant of the heavens?
“Then… how could Wei Li keep it hidden on his person?” That black mist had been tucked into a brocade pouch he carried close. If anyone should have turned into a monster, shouldn’t it have been Wei Li first?
“…You’re not afraid?” Qingyan thought her little head was rather unusual.
Shouldn’t she be weeping and wailing, terrified of becoming a monster, begging him to save her life? Why was she asking so many questions that had nothing to do with herself?
“I am afraid. But once it’s touched me, whether I change or not isn’t mine to decide.” Yu Sang‑sang sighed, spreading her hands. “Since things are as they are, I can only thank Sword Sovereign for explaining. You really are a good man.”
He hadn’t killed her despite her risk of transformation—surely that deserved a “good person” card.
Qingyan pressed his lips tight at her praise. Confirmed. She truly was skilled at sweet talk.