In her previous life, even without Mu Zhaoran bringing her along, Ye Lizhi would have fled the general's estate not long after they left Nanrong. She would have crossed the Southern Realm alone, reached the Central Continent, and headed to Tianyu Yujing, where Tiandao Palace was located. In the end, for reasons unknown, she would have caught the attention of the Spirit Venerable and been personally accepted into Tiandao Palace's inner sect.
In truth, before entering Tiandao Palace, Mu Zhaoran and Ye Lizhi had no direct conflicts.
To Mu Zhaoran, Ye Lizhi was merely an unrelated stranger, someone who couldn't even touch the hem of her garment, let alone appear within her line of sight.
The reason she had sent people to obstruct Ye Lizhi was simply out of boredom during the journey, coupled with repeatedly hearing Ye Lingyan mention her despicable half-sister—how Ye Lizhi had stolen her belongings and fled the general's estate.
Ye Lingyan had won her favor with a trinket gathered from the common folk—a nine-linked ring crafted from copper wire—and in return, Mu Zhaoran had given her the two Nascent Soul spirit servants left by the Sacred Hall elders to help capture the household thief.
To stand up for her good friend, Mu Zhaoran had agreed without a second thought, never giving the matter any real consideration.
But the System claimed that due to her relentless obstruction in her previous life, Ye Lizhi had faced repeated dangers on her way to Tiandao Palace, ultimately developing a frail constitution.
Clearly, the blame for this had been placed squarely on her shoulders.
Although compelled by the System's task to bring Ye Lizhi along, Mu Zhaoran didn't believe it was entirely her fault. At most, she had been deceived and misled by false accusations.
It was also because the two spirit servants she had sent out in her previous life never returned, clearly meeting with misfortune, that Mu Zhaoran had begun to harbor resentment toward Ye Lizhi from the start.
The accumulated grievances from her past life were difficult to resolve. Now, Mu Zhaoran found Ye Lingyan displeasing to the eye, but she loathed Ye Lizhi even more, grinding her teeth in hatred. Her gaze toward Ye Lizhi was far from friendly, as if she wanted to devour her whole.
Under such scrutiny, Ye Lizhi grew increasingly anxious and fearful, attempting to explain, "Your Highness, please calm your anger. I… I didn't sneak out of the estate today. When the young lady left, she forgot something and asked me to deliver it…"
After delivering the item, she should have left immediately. But the figure descending from the altar was so dazzling that she had lingered a moment longer, hiding in the shadows of the carriage.
Clearly, Ye Lizhi's explanation had nothing to do with what Mu Zhaoran was referring to.
Mu Zhaoran had no interest in how Ye Lizhi had left the estate. She merely drew out a mocking "Oh," cutting her off, and continued, "So, you don't want to go to Tiandao Palace? Very well, I'll have the carriage stopped right now and have General Ye send you back to the estate. Better yet, have your legs broken and shackled with iron chains so you can never set foot outside the general's estate again. How does that sound?"
Imagining the scene, Mu Zhaoran's lips curled upward in delight, her mood exceptionally pleased. She even found herself growing eager to carry out the idea, barely able to restrain the impulse.
Her expression was mocking, every word dripping with malice, utterly devoid of jest.
Ye Lizhi's flushed cheeks gradually paled under Mu Zhaoran's words. Her knees buckled, and she slid weakly onto the carriage's plush carpet, bowing her head. "I beg Your Highness for mercy, I…"
She gritted her teeth and admitted, "I want to go to Tiandao Palace!"
She did not want to be trapped forever within the icy walls of the general's estate—within those towering, rigid confines where her father ignored her, the mistress despised her, and Ye Lingyan would come to torment her at the slightest displeasure. Every day she lived in fear, treading on thin ice, treated worse than even the servants of the estate.
Even today, managing to leave that fortress-like general's estate even once had required considerable effort and scheming to seize this single opportunity.
If she were sent back by the Holy Maiden now, she feared she would truly never step out of the general's estate again in her lifetime.
Perhaps because the malice in Mu Zhaoran's bones had surged too blatantly, the sin mark on her soul suddenly grew hot. A piercing pain spread from her soul to her body, causing her to slump weakly and curl up on the soft couch.
The vicious thought that had been stirring in her mind was instantly shattered by the agony.
Mu Zhaoran clutched her clothes in pain, gasping for breath as she muttered a plea, "Alright, alright, I was wrong. I'll reflect on it."
Hearing her muffled words and pained gasps, Ye Lizhi lifted her head, wanting to look at her, but afraid of provoking her wrath again. She could only remain bowed on the ground, not daring to move.
Beads of cold sweat broke out on Mu Zhaoran's forehead from the pain. She grabbed a string of prayer beads at random and threw them at Ye Lizhi, urging, "Get up! Since I allowed you into the carriage, I'll ensure you enter the capital safely."
The crimson agate beads struck Ye Lizhi's shoulder and slid down. Ye Lizhi hurriedly caught them and held them out to Mu Zhaoran, saying gratefully, "Thank you, Your Highness. I will repay your kindness in the future."
As the pain in her soul eased, Mu Zhaoran felt nearly drained, weak and limp. She pushed Ye Lizhi's hand away disdainfully, saying, "You've touched them. They're too dirty now. I don't want them."
Ye Lizhi's long lashes trembled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Like fragile glass, she seemed shattered by those words.
Clutching the agate beads uncertainly, she finally took out a cotton handkerchief from her sleeve—one that had been washed countless times—wrapped the beads in it, and carefully wiped each one. Then, holding them through the cloth, she offered them to Mu Zhaoran again.
Having just experienced the tangible punishment of the sin mark on her soul, Mu Zhaoran was in a foul mood and even more impatient with the one she saw as the source of her troubles. She swatted Ye Lizhi's hand away again, angrily exclaiming, "I said, I don't want them anymore!"
This time, her movement was more forceful. The sleeve of her robe swung out and accidentally struck Ye Lizhi's face, the gold-thread embroidery at the cuff leaving a red mark on her cheek.
Mu Zhaoran froze, fearing another punishment. She hastily pulled back her sleeve and explained in a panic, "I didn't mean to."
Feeling no reaction from the sin mark on her soul, she sighed in relief, then felt embarrassed by her frantic explanation. Annoyed, she snapped, "Throw them away! Now, immediately!"
Ye Lizhi had endured enough humiliation in the general's estate. Once, in the dead of winter, she was falsely accused of stealing a bite of pastry from the mistress's table. For that, she was slapped over twenty times and forced to kneel in the snow all night.
The wounds on her face turned to frostbite, barely healing by spring, and the red marks took years to fade completely.
The blow from Mu Zhaoran's sleeve meant little to her. What pained Ye Lizhi was the loss of the agate prayer beads.
Such a string of finely crafted, high-quality agate beads could feed an ordinary family for a year. She truly couldn’t bear to discard them just like that, yet she dared not defy the Saintess’s command. After hesitating for a moment and seeing how truly furious the Saintess was, she could only obediently open the carriage window and toss them out.
Once done, she retreated back to the corner, bowing her head and murmuring an apology, “Please calm your anger, Saintess.”
Calm her anger? Calm what anger? The mere sight of Ye Lizhi’s feigned, long-suffering expression filled Mu Zhaoran with rage. Ye Lizhi was an expert at playing the victim; in her previous life, she had used that pitiful act to seduce countless people.
Even that scoundrel Mu Yinyi had been bewitched by her, willing to betray his own flesh-and-blood sister.
If only she could slash that delicate, captivating face to ruin—let’s see how she’d play the victim with a mangled visage!
Mu Zhaoran stared at her, her mind once again bubbling with malicious thoughts, until the sin mark on her soul flared with heat once more. A piercing, worm-like pain spread from deep within her bones, forcing a miserable groan from her lips as she whimpered in surrender, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t think it, I won’t think anything at all…”
Ye Lizhi cautiously lifted her head. In such a short span, this was the second time she had heard the Holy Maiden murmuring as if pleading for mercy from someone.
The Saintess covered her eyes, as if unwilling to even look at her, emitting faint, kitten-like whimpers through her nose. Her body trembled slightly, and the layers of opulent garments draped over her seemed as though they could crush her at any moment.
“Saintess…” Ye Lizhi leaned forward in concern, reaching out to steady her, but remembering the earlier disdain directed at her, she hesitantly curled her fingers back and asked softly, “Are you alright, Saintess? Should I call for a physician?”
“Shut up!” Mu Zhaoran snapped bitterly, turning over to face the inner side of the carriage.
She had finally figured out the trigger for that damned sin mark: she couldn’t harbor malicious thoughts, especially not toward Ye Lizhi. Yet, all she felt toward Ye Lizhi was malice.
Was this what the System meant by “mutual affection”?
Mu Zhaoran couldn’t help but sneer, though the curve of her lips quickly flattened again under the soul-deep pain. She forced herself to think of something else, anything, to distract her and purge “Ye Lizhi” from her mind.
Just then, a commotion erupted outside. The carriage jolted, and its speed noticeably slowed.
Ye Rong’s resonant voice called from outside, “Saintess, the Crown Prince has ridden out on horseback to catch up. He likely wishes to bid you a proper farewell. Shall we stop and wait for him?”
Mu Zhaoran’s fingers tightened abruptly around the soft cushion. After a moment of silence, she turned back, glanced at Ye Lizhi, and declared loudly, “No, don’t stop. There’s nothing left to say. Increase the speed and leave quickly. We must not delay our mission.”
Ye Rong, who also disliked dallying, found Mu Zhaoran’s response to his liking. He raised his hand, ordering the procession to continue, and dispatched two men to turn back and dissuade the Crown Prince.
The sound of the carriage wheels gradually quickened. The swift wind whistled past the windows, yet even its howling couldn’t drown out the tearful cries trailing from behind: “Elder Sister, Elder Sister! Wait for me, Elder Sister! I still have words I wish to say to you—”
Mu Zhaoran reclined on the soft couch, her expression blank as she listened to the cries growing fainter and more distant, until finally, they faded into silence.
Ye Rong had been accompanying the carriage all along. Seeing that she was unwilling to even open the carriage window, he remarked with an ambiguous tone, "The Crown Prince shouted himself hoarse, nearly falling off his horse. In comparison, the Yaoguang Saintess remains composed and calm—truly admirable."
The soul-piercing pain in Mu Zhaoran had unknowingly subsided, but the betrayal she had once suffered was etched into her bones, never to be forgotten. She replied coldly, "As the Holy Maiden, I know what is important and what is trivial. It is only right to avoid acting on emotion, is it not?"
Surprised, Ye Rong tilted his head to glance at the imperial carriage. Through the hanging curtain, he could vaguely make out the figure leaning inside. He never expected to hear such sensible words from this willful young lady.
It was said that just yesterday, she had been throwing tantrums in the palace, refusing to go to Tiandao Palace, unwilling to become the Holy Maiden, and even more reluctant to shoulder the responsibilities of the Saintess. Yet in just one day, she had come to terms with it? Had she truly accepted it, or was she merely putting on a show?
Ye Rong's thick brows furrowed slightly as he gazed ahead, his eyes dark and inscrutable. With a tone of relief, he said, "In that case, the Saintess will surely live up to His Majesty's expectations and retrieve a new Heaven-sanctioned Seal for Nanrong."
Mu Zhaoran raised her eyes, staring intently at the figure outside the window, and declared resolutely, "Of course."
This time, she would never again give him the opportunity to rebel and force his way into the palace under the banner of "Heaven's Mandate."