After undergoing the Wash-Soul process, the body needed a period of adjustment, so three days of rest were allotted.
Mu Zhaoran returned from her bath, her bones feeling as if they had been taken apart and reassembled. A faint soreness lingered under her skin. She lay on the soft couch, clutching a pillow, rolling back and forth in frustration.
The attendants carefully combed her long hair with a sandalwood brush dipped in gardenia oil, drying each strand on soft cloth. But as she twisted and turned, her hair became tangled again.
Shuang Xu asked, “Your Highness, are you still uncomfortable? Shall I have Liu Yue come and massage you?”
Mu Zhaoran shook her head gloomily. Shuang Xu studied her expression and asked again, “Is there something troubling you, Your Highness? If you tell us, perhaps we can help ease your worries.”
Mu Zhaoran scanned the anxious faces around her. Her lips moved, but the words wouldn’t come. Finally, she rolled over, sat up, patted her cheeks, and tried to pull herself together. “Have the letters of pardon been signed?” she asked Shuang Xu.
Shuang Xu nodded and retrieved a silk scroll from a box, presenting it to her.
Grabbing the scroll, Mu Zhaoran brightened. “Good. Help me dress and prepare. Let’s go to the Punishment Hall.”
Liu Yue hesitated. “Your Highness, you just came out of the Wash-Soul Pool. Aren’t you still unwell? Shouldn’t you rest a bit more?”
Mu Zhaoran thought of You Guxue’s face. Wutuan must be in a difficult position under him. She moved her body slightly. “It’s fine. Once the punishment is finished, I’ll bring Wutuan back as soon as possible.”
As she stepped out of the Bamboo Creek Pavilion, she ran into someone lingering outside the courtyard.
“Young Master Ning, are you looking for me?” she asked, surprised.
Ning Shuai turned to her. His conflicted expression settled, and he steadied himself, taking a quick step forward to bow before her. He handed her a folded book. “I hastily compiled this over the past few days. I hope Your Highness will find it of interest.”
Mu Zhaoran took it without understanding. “What’s it about?”
Ning Shuai said seriously, “Your Highness is exceptionally talented and beautiful, still in the prime of youth. There’s no need to pin yourself to just one tree. I thought it wise to become acquainted with other promising young talents.”
Question marks seemed to pop out of Mu Zhaoran’s head. Confused, she asked, “Young Master Ning… are you recommending yourself for the pillow?”
Ning Shuai panicked, waving his hands frantically. “No, no, no! I would never think such thoughts.” To be honest, he had considered it in the past—but never again.
The Holy Maiden Yaoguang and the Xing Tian Sword Lord were well-matched in status. If they succeeded in their relationship, Xing Tian Lord would become the son-in-law of the Southern Realm. Just thinking about it made Ning Shuai want to ascend to the heavens to capture the matchmaker and tie them together himself.
But the King of Xiang desired one thing, the Goddess another. Feeling it his duty to assist Xing Tian Lord, Ning Shuai had painstakingly compiled this book praising his exploits.
After delivering the book, he ran off swiftly.
Mu Zhaoran opened the folded book and was met with a bold title: “A Glorious Record of Xing Tian Lord’s Deeds.”
What the…?
Instinctively, she tossed the book aside.
It wasn’t a pillow recommendation at all—it was Ning Shuai trying to promote You Guxue.
Was he really this bold? Did You Guxue know?
Mu Zhaoran couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. Curious despite herself, she bent to pick up the folded pages. Inside were detailed accounts of You Guxue’s travels, eradicating evil, and punishing wrongdoers.
Last month he killed this lunatic, next month that fierce demon, the next day another villain…
To Mu Zhaoran, it read like blatant intimidation.
She tossed the book to Shuang Xu. “Burn it.”
A few steps forward, she paused, taking it back. “No, not yet.” Knowledge is power. She hadn’t encountered Xing Tian Lord in her previous life, so it was better to understand him first, be prepared.
Mu Zhaoran stashed the folded book in her waist pouch and continued toward the Punishment Hall.
The Punishment Hall of the Celestial Dao Palace lay west of Jue Mountain. Its imposing black structure exuded authority. The screen wall at the front was carved with the Jie Zhi divine beast—a hybrid of ox and sheep with a single horn, surrounded by a thick, black mane, its eyes wide with fury, staring down everyone who approached the hall.
Legend said this beast could discern right from wrong, identify good and evil, and determine loyalty and treachery.
In her previous life, Mu Zhaoran had been judged in front of this very beast. She was shackled at the execution platform behind the hall and remained there for twelve days. Each day, a Soul-Devouring Seal was driven into her spiritual apertures, twelve times in total, shattering her Golden Core and draining her spiritual energy.
Although that Golden Core had been forcibly assembled from countless elixirs just so she could catch up with Yun Xiaoyang, when it shattered and all her spiritual power drained away, Mu Zhaoran still tasted the kind of excruciating, soul-searing pain that made life feel worse than death.
If it weren’t for Wutuan, she would never have set foot in the Punishment Hall again.
She lowered her eyes, avoiding the enraged gaze of the divine beast carved on the screen wall, and briskly walked past it into the hall.
The elders of the Punishment Hall recognized her purpose immediately. They invited her to sit and offered tea. One said, “The Punishment Hall has reviewed the transgression committed by Wutuan. As it is an unawakened cat spirit who went berserk from overconsumption of spirit stones, the primary responsibility still lies with Your Highness for failing to supervise it properly.”
Mu Zhaoran cupped her hands respectfully and bowed, her face full of remorse. She handed over a silk scroll and said, “Indeed, it was my fault. Over the past three days, I have sent my subordinates to provide medical treatment and supplies to the injured, ensuring their full recovery. I have also had them confirm the losses of the spirit fields with the elders of Rugu Tower and compensate accordingly. If anything remains insufficient, I am willing to accept further punishment.”
The elder took the scroll, opened it, and saw that it was a letter of acknowledgment signed by all parties involved. He nodded in approval and handed her a small booklet.
Mu Zhaoran took it and saw the cover read: “Celestial Dao Palace: Three Thousand Regulations for Civilized Spirit Pet Care.”
Just for keeping a single spirit pet, there were three thousand rules! More than even the regulations for managing spirit guards at the Nanrong Holy Temple.
The elder’s face softened. “In the Celestial Dao Palace, if a spirit pet makes a mistake, the owner must copy this booklet as punishment. Since Your Highness has made amends and received forgiveness, the punishment is reduced by thirty percent—you need only copy it thirty times.”
Mu Zhaoran: “…Even now that I’m in the Celestial Dao Palace, I can’t escape having to copy books?”
Wutuan, you’ve really caused me trouble.
She began the laborious copying. Planning to later have Shuang Xu and the others help, she was stopped by the elder, who chuckled knowingly, “Your Highness must copy a set here in the hall first, so it can be kept as a reference for handwriting.”
Mu Zhaoran: “…As expected of the Celestial Dao Palace. Very thorough, very meticulous.”
The elder, enjoying watching disciples struggle, stroked his short beard and kindly reminded her, “Write carefully. Once the punishment is completed, if you wish to keep Wutuan in the Celestial Dao Palace, you must register the spirit pet with the Internal Affairs Hall. To do so, you must pass an assessment—answers are all contained in this booklet.”
Mu Zhaoran felt overwhelmed by the endless regulations. Determined to retrieve Wutuan quickly, she stayed in the side hall of the Punishment Hall and hunched over, copying the regulations.
The booklet contained many legitimate rules for spirit pet care: disciples of the Celestial Dao Palace must report the pet’s attributes, species, and danger level before forming a contract; the owner must have the strength to control the spirit pet, and so on.
The further she copied, the more absurd the rules became, until Mu Zhaoran was filled with questions: what is this, what is that?
“For unawakened spirit pets, any lewd acts are considered abuse. In severe cases, the master-pet contract will be severed, and the owner expelled from the Celestial Dao Palace.” Mu Zhaoran collapsed in disbelief. “Who would do something like this to their own spirit pet?”
The attendant beside her said, “These rules exist because someone has indeed done such things—they are added as precedents.”
Mu Zhaoran sneered. “And what about awakened spirit pets?”
The attendant explained, “The elder said that awakened spirit pets have the intelligence to distinguish right from wrong. They are considered similar to demons or spirit cultivators. Their actions are judged under human regulations and are not covered by this booklet.”
One round of three thousand rules, thirty repetitions—Mu Zhaoran copied all day. She paused only to nibble a few snacks with her tea. Her wrist ached, and the attendant beside her dozed off.
The Punishment Hall was quiet. Night fell, and fog thickened.
Around midnight, a light suddenly appeared in the main hall. A figure entered, walking around the screen wall, through the fog-laden courtyard, and stopped in the center.
Elder Wu Shan emerged from the inner hall, yawning. Seeing him, his expression showed resignation.
“You’re here for punishment,” You Guxue said.
Wu Shan glanced at the Xing Tian Sword at his waist and, without further questions, led him to the back execution platform.
Mu Zhaoran panicked, rushing from the side hall. “Wait! Senior Brother You, what about Wutuan? You can’t take him along for punishment!”
Inside the hall, both men turned. Candlelight flickered, and in the swaying shadows, You Guxue’s gaze fell on her. Thick and intense, it seemed tainted by the night fog, cold and damp.
Unnerving.
The Xing Tian Sword trembled slightly, restrained by You Guxue’s calm hand. He lowered his eyelashes and said softly, “I have handed Wutuan to the Internal Affairs Hall. Sister, you have served your punishment. You may collect him.”
Mu Zhaoran nodded through the fog. “Thank you, Senior Brother.”
You Guxue turned and followed Wu Shan to the back of the Punishment Hall.
Mu Zhaoran watched his back disappear into the mist, still shivering from his damp, intense gaze. She rubbed her arms and returned to the side hall to continue copying the regulations.
She was not one to eavesdrop, but the Punishment Hall was so quiet that even a slight sound carried. Seeing You Guxue enter, curiosity had drawn her to the door—but listening closely revealed almost nothing.
Apparently, Wu Shan was used to You Guxue collecting punishment. He didn’t even ask what it was, just led him to the back.
Mu Zhaoran copied two more lines and, curiosity prickling like Wutuan scratching, asked the dozing attendant, “Does Senior Brother You often come to the Punishment Hall for punishment?”
The attendant rubbed his eyes and nodded sleepily.
Someone who wielded the Xing Tian Sword, acted on heaven’s mandate, and punished evildoers… could make mistakes? To Mu Zhaoran, it was like seeing a figure who once ruled life and death suddenly stumble down, becoming an ordinary person who could err.
No longer so imposing or fearsome.
Hmph, so much for that.
Her curiosity piqued further. “Does he make mistakes often?”
The attendant rubbed ink for two rounds, eyelids drooping. “Senior Brother You? How could he often make mistakes? Recently… maybe two, three, four, five, six times…”
Seeing how sleepy he was, Mu Zhaoran said, “Go rest.”
The attendant curled up and fell asleep again.
Mu Zhaoran copied all thirty repetitions of the spirit pet regulations through the night. At dawn, she rubbed her wrists, leaned against the side hall, and carefully read through “A Glorious Record of Xing Tian Lord’s Deeds.”
When the morning bell rang, Elder Wu Shan appeared for his duties. She handed him the neatly stacked copies for review.
Wu Shan had been disturbed by You Guxue the previous night and looked haggard. Seeing Mu Zhaoran’s bright eyes, he smiled. “You stayed up all night, yet still look so spirited. I suppose I am really getting old.”
Mu Zhaoran muttered in her mind: “You’re not old—you were still vigorous enough when driving the Soul-Devouring Seals through my spiritual apertures.”
Of course, she could only think it, not say it.
She understood her punishment had been decreed by the Dharma Lord; the Punishment Hall elders were merely executing it. She had little fondness for this grim, terrifying hall and only wanted to resolve Wutuan’s matter, never to return.
Wu Shan seemed to sense her urgency and said nothing further. “Follow me.”
Mu Zhaoran took the document Wu Shan issued and was about to head to the Internal Affairs Hall when You Guxue emerged from the back. They passed by the screen wall, exchanging a glance.
It was late autumn. The Celestial Dao Palace sat atop the Absolute Mountain; the air was colder and the fog lingered. You Guxue in white appeared almost merged with the mist, his pale face blending with the thick, damp air.
Mu Zhaoran examined him but could not tell what punishment he had received. Her mind kept replaying the heroic image from the booklet: You Guxue slaying demons with his sword, righteous and incorruptible—a savior of the people.
But the real hero hadn’t died saving the world. He had perished under the trials of the Dao, like snow fallen into dust, dying in dishonor, betraying expectations, a name no one wished to speak.
You Guxue’s dark eyes briefly swept over her, then turned away. Following his gaze, she saw Shuang Xu and the others waiting at the hall’s entrance.
As she stepped out, the group surrounded her, offering cloaks, massaging her wrists, and presenting a tall food box with sweet soup and snacks, making sure she was neither hungry, cold, nor thirsty after the Punishment Hall’s chill.
You Guxue watched her genuine smile amidst the crowd. Morning sunlight pierced the fog, falling on her camellia-embroidered cloak, painting a bright streak across the damp, cold dawn.
This was her true smile.
After walking some distance, Mu Zhaoran suddenly remembered and turned back. You Guxue’s figure had already vanished into the wet mist.
Shuang Xu said, “Your Highness, you didn’t sleep at all last night. You should rest for a while first.”
Mu Zhaoran shook her head. “I’ll get Wutuan first.”
Taking advantage of the fact that she had just finished copying the regulations and her memory of all the chaotic rules was still fresh, Mu Zhaoran quickly completed the exam set by the Internal Affairs Hall, and finally succeeded in reclaiming Wutuan.
She brought it back to Zhu Xi Pavilion, opened the binding spirit bag, and a black shadow rolled out. In an instant it expanded, its amber eyes spinning, before suddenly leaping onto Mu Zhaoran with a wail, crying loudly.
After being confined in the spirit bag for so many days, Wutuan hadn’t yet digested all its spiritual energy. Its round, plump body—almost like a small tiger—pounced on Mu Zhaoran, knocking her to the ground and pinning her so she couldn’t get up for a long while.
“Wutuan, you clumsy cat! You’re going to crush me!” Mu Zhaoran laughed through tears. A group of attendants hurriedly tried to push Wutuan aside, but the chubby cat, too focused on acting spoiled to notice its size, refused to budge.
Nan Lü quickly slapped five or six floating talismans onto it. The cinnabar inscriptions on the talismans dissolved into red strands of light that merged into Wutuan’s black spirit body. Instantly, its weight lifted from Mu Zhaoran. Its plump paws clawed at the air as it floated upward, drifting higher and higher.
Nan Lü slapped his forehead. “Ah, too many! Yize, jump up and grab its tail—don’t let it float away!”
A black shadow shot from the dense treetops along the courtyard wall, leapt into the air, and grabbed Wutuan’s tail to pull it down.
The group immediately swarmed, grabbing its tail and paws, and finally managed to keep the big cat contained in the courtyard.
Mu Zhaoran was helped to her feet by Shuang Xu. Hands on her hips, she pointed at the thrashing cat and said in exasperation, “Tie it to a pillar. Let it float a few days so it doesn’t go causing trouble everywhere.”
Wutuan immediately howled in protest.
Inside Zhu Xi Pavilion, the commotion of voices and cat cries mixed together, creating a lively, chaotic scene.
Ye Lizhi stood at the pavilion gate, watching enviously. Liuyue leaned against the doorframe and smiled at her. “Miss Ye, there’s no need to thank us. It was Wutuan going berserk that put everyone in danger. Had it been anyone else, Her Highness would have done the same to save them.”
Ye Lizhi bit her lip, still wanting to argue. She had originally come to the Celestial Dao Palace because someone had given her a Yan Gold Token, hoping to use it to escape the General’s Mansion. She hadn’t expected that even here, she would still be trapped under Ye Lingyan’s shadow.
The recognition given by Ye Rong had brought her little real benefit. Whenever her interests clashed with Ye Lingyan’s, she was always the one to yield and sacrifice.
Yet repeated concessions did not earn her sister’s acceptance. Ye Lingyan even considered her a threat to her position and had once wanted to kill her.
Ye Lizhi had no one else to turn to for help.
She clenched her sleeves, hesitated, and said, “I recently learned a new piece of music. I wanted to ask Her Highness to listen—she might like it.”
Liuyue glanced into the courtyard, recalling Mu Zhaoran’s earlier instructions. She steeled herself and said, “Her Highness doesn’t care for music. Miss Ye, please leave.”
All hope in Ye Lizhi’s eyes extinguished. She turned away, dejected.
Halfway back, Liuyue was called after. “Miss Ye, please wait. Her Highness regrets not hearing you perform on the way here. Since you’ve composed a new piece, she definitely wants to hear it.”
Inside Zhu Xi Pavilion, Mu Zhaoran sat beneath a clump of phoenix bamboo, fingers gripping the edge of the stone table. Sweat beaded on her forehead from the imprint of her spiritual sins, and her body trembled slightly.
Seeing Ye Lizhi’s delighted expression as she entered, Mu Zhaoran ground her teeth in hatred.
“Always so affectionate, damn it, always so affectionate!”