Mu Zhaoran had always been drawn to beauty. Even the attendants she kept around her were carefully selected for their looks. She had long been accustomed to handsome and beautiful people, yet the first time she laid eyes on You Guxue, her heart still skipped a beat at his appearance.
He was born with a strikingly handsome face: high, prominent brows, deep black eyes, perfectly proportioned features, and a golden sword-shaped mark etched in his forehead. Dressed in white, he seemed otherworldly—like a plum blossom in the snow: pure, aloof, and exquisitely radiant. One would expect such beauty to hold anyone’s gaze.
Yet his aura was far too cold and sharp, suffused with the murderous energy of a warrior. Even the delicate plum petals of his image seemed formed from the glint of blood-stained swords, inspiring a chill in the viewer, a fear of being cut by his edge.
He was indeed a blade of the Celestial Dao Palace, wielding the Xing Tian Sword to slay countless evils and uphold the heavenly way.
Mu Zhaoran had never seen him in her previous life. When she entered the Celestial Dao Palace, You Guxue had already retreated to the Heart-Testing Platform for seclusion. By the time she was expelled from the palace, she had heard that he had failed the trial of the Dao Heart and perished on that very platform.
Had he not perished, she would never have escaped Central Province; she would have died under his sword, her name added to the crime stele, sealed forever by lightning and scorned by all.
Earlier, she had witnessed him striking down evil at close range. Even though it was only a fleeting vision, she had been terrified, feeling as though the lightning of justice itself was wrapped around her neck, ready to shred her to pieces. She had not dared to stand near him any longer.
Before speaking a word, she had fled from the stele, nearly stumbling as she climbed into the carriage. Shuang Xu had steadied her with a gentle hand. “Your Highness, watch your step.”
She staggered into the carriage, slammed the door, and let down all the curtains.
You Guxue did not follow her. He merely watched her retreating back until she was no longer visible, then calmly withdrew his gaze and returned to the stele.
Mu Zhaoran’s fear of her past exile ran deep. Had it not been for Yan Luo, Nanrong would have long fallen, and she would never have returned to her former life of privilege. Those days trapped as a golden bird at his side had left her heart torn—dependent on him and trying to please him, yet full of disgust, all the while her heart secretly yearning for Yun Xiaoyang.
Even so, in moments of real danger, the one she prayed to had always been Yan Luo. He was the one who felt truly strong and safe to rely upon.
Yet even he had been tormented by You Guxue. At the mere thought of Yan Luo’s scars, she shivered, and an unbounded fear and resentment toward the sword disciple who executed the wicked filled her.
She sat alone in the carriage for a long time, her hair still standing on end.
Rubbing her arms, she murmured to herself, biting her fingers for comfort:“Mu Zhaoran… Mu Zhaoran… you haven’t even begun making mistakes this life. You haven’t been condemned by the Celestial Dao Palace yet. What do you have to fear from him? Don’t be so spineless… If he targets you, you’re done for…”
The Celestial Dao Palace had three supreme disciples: the Law Master, the Sword Master, and the Spirit Master. The Sword Master had only two disciples: the eldest, Xing Tian Sword You Guxue, who punished evildoers, and the second, Feng Tian Sword Yun Xiaoyang, who spread virtue and goodness. Folklore said: see the Xing Tian Disciple, and your evil deeds will catch up with you; see the Feng Tian Disciple, and blessings will come to your door.
For Mu Zhaoran, encountering either was never a good omen. Seeing the elder made her tremble as if facing a grim reaper; seeing the younger made her dizzy and flustered.
Clearly, she was ill-fated with the Sword Master’s disciples. She had to stay far away this time.
Soon, attendants emerged to greet visitors to the Celestial Dao Palace. As the mountain gate opened, the view of vermilion pavilions and verdant towers spread like a painting, forming majestic buildings along both sides of the entrance. A black-and-gold plaque hung prominently, bearing the name “Ru Gui Tower.”
Visitors were led inside Ru Gui Tower to rest. When Mu Zhaoran descended from her carriage, the intimidating sword disciple was gone. She exhaled quietly in relief and followed the Celestial Dao Palace novice guide into the building.
The inner courtyard of Ru Gui Tower was spacious, surrounded by corridors, artificial hills, pools, and lush phoenix-tail bamboo. Even the guide, dressed in pale blue, moved lightly and gracefully, like a drifting bamboo leaf in the painting of the courtyard.
The presence of outsiders disrupted the serenity of the space.
Entry into the Celestial Dao Palace was complicated; one could not simply enter when the gates opened. Ru Gui Tower, located at the foot of the mountain, served as the outer gate. The elder in charge there managed records and registrations for visitors.
Every ten years, the Celestial Dao Palace issued twenty-four Yan Gold Tokens, attracting eager applicants from across the land. Those granted a token were no ordinary people, often accompanied by attendants of their own.
Which attendants would enter the palace with their masters, and what their roles were, had to be registered in advance and submitted to Ru Gui Tower for approval.
The roster had been prepared by the Holy Hall elders before departure. Mu Zhaoran took the list from Shuang Xu and reviewed it.
In Nanrong, the Holy Hall revered the Holy Maiden above all. Below her were three Transformation Elders, then twelve Spirit Envoys, followed by three thousand Spirit Guards.
All twelve Spirit Envoys had reached Nascent Soul level. Eight of them had been assigned to Mu Zhaoran for this journey by Yaoguang, though the Holy Hall itself would have preferred to retain them.
In her previous life, all eight envoys had perished due to being tied to her fate.
Mu Zhaoran hesitated for a long moment, then circled two names on the roster. “Redo the roster. Only Shuang Xu and Liuyue stay with me; the rest of the envoys return to Nanrong.”
Shuang Xu, a sword cultivator, and Liuyue, a medical cultivator, were enough for her protection. The remaining names were servants she was accustomed to from Nanrong.
Shuang Xu hesitated. “Your Highness, training in the Celestial Dao Palace and gaining entry to the Jun Tian Hall is not easy. It may take years, perhaps a decade. You can’t lack support; perhaps leave a few more envoys with you?”
Others chimed in. “The palace is remote and difficult to enter. Visitors come from all corners, with complicated hearts. Your Highness cannot be without protection.”
“Besides, Your Highness, this time, besides Miss Ye from Nanrong, the sons of the Fu Chuan Rong and Luo Jin Shan Ning families also hold Yan Gold Tokens. These families nominally submit to Nanrong but do not truly align. You must remain vigilant.”
“Although Shuang Xu’s sword intent has reached the drawn-sword level, able to form a sword domain, his strength alone is equivalent to half a Transformation disciple. But even he cannot always be in two places at once. He alone cannot fully protect you. Keep me with you as well.”
“Leave me behind too!”
Liuyue quietly parted her lips and whispered, “I can refine poisons too…” She wasn’t just skilled in medicine—if no one else could fight, she could still take down a number of people using toxins.
Mu Zhaoran raised a hand to stop them. “Don’t worry. The Celestial Dao Palace won’t allow anyone to act recklessly within its grounds.” She had experienced that firsthand in her previous life.
Moreover, Mu Zhaoran knew her own temperament. Born noble and used to indulgence, leaving too many Spirit Envoys around her would only encourage her to rely on them, fueling reckless thoughts in her heart.
Deep down, she didn’t think her past self had been wrong; she never considered reflecting on it. She was simply afraid—afraid of repeating the same mistakes and ending up with the same fate.
It was better to send them all back. That way, even if she couldn’t resist indulging in some thought or whim, there would be no one nearby to act on it.
Thinking of Ye Lizhi, a flicker of malice rose in her heart. She had already completed the system’s task of bringing Ye Lizhi intact to Tiandu City—her mission was done.
She closed her eyes and turned inward, examining her soul. She looked at the dark-red karmic lotus mark etched on her spirit and, as she hoped, saw a thin trace at the edge scatter into tiny points of light, dissipating from her soul.
Mu Zhaoran felt a brief joy, but it was quickly overshadowed by gloom. Compared to the mountain of sins she carried, this small relief was insignificant. Thinking of the many deeds she would still have to commit in the future, she felt no cheer at all.
Under Shuang Xu and the others’ insistence, Mu Zhaoran added Nanlü and Yize to her roster. The twins—one skilled in talismans, the other in divination—were a pair of dragon-phoenix twins. The sister was lively and cheerful, while the brother was silent and reserved.
On a whim, Mu Zhaoran turned to the black-clad young man standing quietly against the wall. “Yize, do a divination for me. Tell me—this trip to the Celestial Dao Palace: will it bring fortune or disaster?”
Yize straightened, seeming hesitant, and glanced at his sister.
“What’s wrong?” Mu Zhaoran asked, following his gaze toward Nanlü.
The twins looked alike but were dressed in extreme contrast. Nanlü wore a pink dress with a pink butterfly hairpin. Her expressive face betrayed nothing, and when Mu Zhaoran asked, she immediately spilled everything like beans from a tipped-over jar.
“Your Highness, Yize already performed a divination for you before we came to the Celestial Dao Palace. One matter can only be divined once.”
Seeing their hesitation, Mu Zhaoran understood immediately. “The omen isn’t good.”
Nanlü hesitated further. Not just bad—it was a dire omen, the worst possible. This was why the Grand Elder had sent so many Spirit Envoys to accompany her. If the remaining four envoys had been free, the Grand Elder might have sent all twelve.
She twisted her words delicately. “Yize’s skills are not yet perfect. Divinations can sometimes be inaccurate.”
Mu Zhaoran smiled and didn’t press further. Shuang Xu still wanted her to keep two more, but Mu Zhaoran shook her head. “Just you four.”
Shuang Xu revised the roster and sent it out with the palace attendant. Upon returning, he reported to Mu Zhaoran, “Miss Ye has added Ye Lizhi’s name to the Ye family’s attendant roster.”
“Attendant roster?” Mu Zhaoran muttered, thought for a moment, then said, “Let it be.”
Except for those holding the Yan Gold Token, attendants accompanying their masters couldn’t study in the academy. Even so, they could receive some medicinal rewards or receive occasional guidance—a great advantage for attendants.
But for Ye Lizhi, it was a setback. She wanted to study immortal arts and cultivate, but being added to the attendant roster meant she lost the chance to become a disciple of the Celestial Dao Palace.
In the previous life, Ye Lizhi had come to Tiandu City alone and lived in the outer city for a year. With some benefactor’s help, she entered the inner city and joined the Ling Pavilion of the Celestial Dao Palace, becoming an outer disciple.
Soon after, for reasons unknown, the Spirit Master took notice of her. Even without a Yan Gold Token, she was exceptionally admitted to the inner sect, just like Mu Zhaoran, who had to address her as “junior sister.”
The heroine had such luck: what most could not accomplish in a lifetime, she achieved in a year.
Those chosen by the three supreme disciples without a Yan Gold Token were exceedingly rare. She was one of the rarest, eventually becoming a direct disciple under the Spirit Master.
Mu Zhaoran often felt that all the men around her were blind—Yun Xiaoyang, Yun Yinyi, even the lofty Spirit Master himself.
As long as the Spirit Master was involved, Ye Lizhi’s entrance into the palace was inevitable. There was no way Mu Zhaoran could stop it, especially with the heap of sins she still had to clear.
She had no desire to meddle with Ye Lizhi now, lest the system trick her into taking the blame again.
After submitting the roster, farewells were quickly exchanged in Ru Gui Tower. The four remaining Spirit Envoys bid Mu Zhaoran goodbye, and the guards set off back to Nanrong.
The sun sank in the west, painting the sky with evening clouds. Its glow fell upon the towering white jade gate of the Celestial Dao Palace, bathing the cold stone in a warm halo.
Mu Zhaoran leaned against the west window’s cushioned seat, squinting at the gate, listening idly to the small talk in the room.
This time, of the twenty-four Yan Gold Tokens issued by the Celestial Dao Palace, eight went to Tiandu City, for disciples promoted from the outer gate.
In the four regions outside Tiandu City, the South had five recipients, the three Immortal Islands of the East had four, the four major Northern sects had six, and the Western Zen sect had one.
At present, four of the South’s recipients were in this room.
“The five tokens from the South, besides Your Highness, went to General Ye’s household, the Luo Jin Shan Ning family, my Fu Chuan Rong family, and one lone cultivator named Zhu Qinglan. I’ve heard he’s a fox spirit who cultivated for two hundred years atop South Courtyard Mountain,” said Fu Chuan Rong’s eldest son, Rong Tingjue. His manner was refined and steady, his words calm like a spring breeze.
“Courtyard Mountain?” Ning Shuai scoffed. “From such a remote, desolate place, a spirit could even emerge?”
Ning Shuai came from a demon-slaying family and had little fondness for demons or spirits. His family’s bloodline was cursed, so he believed all nonhuman beings were inherently abnormal. Yet the Celestial Dao Palace’s Spirit Master was from the Eastern Sea water race, also a spirit cultivator, so the palace naturally accepted spirits.
The three Eastern Immortal Islands were entirely inhabited by spirits.
Ye Lingyan asked, “A fox spirit with two hundred years of cultivation, alone—how did he get a Yan Gold Token?”
Two hundred years sounded long, but the four in the room were collectively younger. Unlike humans, spirits take decades or even a hundred years to develop intelligence.
In other words, a two-hundred-year-old spirit was roughly comparable in maturity to the human youths present.
Yet these four were no ordinary people. Either they had royal or noble status, making the path easier, or their families had enough influence to secure a Yan Gold Token without personal effort.
Many sought Yan Gold Tokens to enter the palace. Even Ye Rong, as South General, had difficulty obtaining one—let alone a fox spirit.
Ye Lingyan thought Ye Lizhi’s token had come about suspiciously. No matter how her father interrogated her, he could not extract the truth, yet he couldn’t risk harming her, so he had to give up.
Rong Tingjue glanced at Mu Zhaoran. Since the Holy Maiden had not spoken, he continued, “Spirits have their own ways. To cultivate successfully in such harsh conditions and gain a Yan Gold Token, he must have extraordinary talent.”
“I thought, since we are all from the South, we should look out for each other. Before visiting Your Highness, I went to his residence, hoping to invite him along—but he wasn’t there.”
As he finished speaking, an attendant entered, whispering to Shuang Xu. Shuang Xu stepped forward, reporting, “Your Highness, Zhu Qinglan is outside requesting an audience.”
Mu Zhaoran looked out the window and, in the flickering lantern light, saw a red-clad figure twirling a folding fan by the phoenix bamboo.
The name seemed vaguely familiar. Hearing the chatter inside, she had spent a long time trying to place it. Seeing the figure now, she suddenly connected the name to the person.
She shifted her gaze to Ye Lizhi, standing with her maid in the cold wind, and snorted inwardly.
Zhu Qinglan—so that’s who it is. Apparently, Ye Lizhi’s little groupie.
The term “groupie” was something she had seen in a snowstorm of floating words before her death. It fit Zhu Qinglan perfectly.
A sudden flash of insight struck Mu Zhaoran. She sat up sharply.
—Wait a minute. Could the “good man” the system mentioned, aside from the male lead and the second male lead, actually be him?!