This was probably the most precarious afternoon in the history of Xiling’s state and dynasty: His Majesty the Emperor had suddenly acquired three sons who, aside from their ages, resembled him in absolutely no way, each radiating an aura of impending disaster. No matter which one eventually inherited the throne, the nation’s future already looked bleak beyond salvation.
Thus, the wise and mighty Father Emperor made a swift decision and threw the most unfilial of his sons, Wei Fu, out the door. He instructed his bargain-bin son Yu Gong Zhao Ye to hurry up and take him back wherever he had come from, and, on the grounds that “three mongrel sons are already more than enough for me to endure,” sternly rejected his good eldest son Zhong Yi’s request to “raise one more.”
The little debt collector departed once again. Carrying the Earth Mirror Map, which his elder brother had reluctantly given up, Father Emperor’s promise of money, and a romance that had gotten both parties thrown out before they could obtain the desired blessing, Wei Fu set off with his baggage on the road back to Longsha.
Under May’s clear skies, grass flourished and orioles sang, wildflowers carpeted the mountains, and every direction the eye could see was filled with countless shades of green. They switched to faster horses for the return journey, and because the weather was so fine and they were free of constraints, traveling felt as carefree as a spring outing.
Near noon, they halted beside a clear stream to rest. There was neither village ahead nor inn behind, the woods were quiet, and not another soul could be seen. Lunch consisted of dry provisions eaten with fresh water. It was somewhat plain, yet not without its charms, because beside them sat a pile of freshly washed yellow apricots and green plums nestled in leaves, cool and fresh from the water.
Every fruit was plump and glossy, crystal droplets rolling over their skins. Young Master Wei had personally selected and washed them, and now held one up with his long, fair fingers to Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s lips, saying tenderly, “Ahhh—”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye cautiously turned his head aside. His gaze traveled back and forth between Wei Fu and the fruit. There was not a trace of trust in his calm amber eyes, only suspicion.
“…Is it guaranteed to be sweet?”
“Of course,” Wei Fu replied with a grin like a fox spirit wagging its tail and rubbing its paws together. Beating his chest with complete confidence, he guaranteed, “If it’s not sweet, you can kiss me as much as you want. I won’t resist at all.”
Even knowing full well this was some unscrupulous merchant’s scam, Yu Gong Zhao Ye could not help asking sincerely, “Then if it is sweet—?”
With the innocent, bashful expression of a pure white flower, Wei Fu squirmed and said, “Then shouldn’t Your Highness reward me a little…”
“This is literally a honey trap.”
With a sigh, Yu Gong Zhao Ye bypassed the fruit labeled bait, picked up a plum himself, and had barely taken one bite before the overbearing fox spirit pounced and kissed him.
“…”
The faint sound of water was extraordinarily clear in the surrounding silence. Amid the confusion, that small piece of fruit was swallowed before it could even be chewed. Yu Gong Zhao Ye had not even tasted the plum.
Half amused and half exasperated, he pressed a fingertip against Wei Fu’s shoulder, trying to push him away a little.
“And what’s the reason this time?”
The fox spirit plundered every trace of sweetness and tartness from his mouth. His high nose rubbed reluctantly against a cool, jade-like cheek, looking as though he had developed a taste for it and was waiting for another bite at any moment.
“I want to see whether it’s sweet.”
How strange. There actually existed plums in this world that made one’s teeth ache after a single bite.
Yu Gong Zhao Ye sighed.
“It’s sour as hell.”
Yet Wei Fu leaned in again, catching those lips—made especially red and full by all the kissing—and slowly worrying them between his own.
The one he loved surpassed every sweet fruit in the world. If he could, he truly wanted to build a little cabin right here in the wilderness and spend the rest of his life entangled with Yu Gong Zhao Ye. Let there be only the two of them beneath heaven and earth. No wind, rain, frost, snow, or drifting dust of the mortal world would ever touch them. No one would disturb them.
Yet even as he sank deeper into those feelings, he knew perfectly well that it was only a fantasy. A mountain of people and affairs tied to the fate of the nation awaited them back in Bihan City. The time they could spend together so intimately and recklessly amounted to no more than this brief stretch of road.
The moon belonged to no one. It was selfless, not his alone. It would never remain behind for his sake and become a beautiful stone stripped of its light.
If Yu Gong Zhao Ye were a block of ice, Wei Fu would have already licked him melted by now. No matter how invulnerable His Highness was, his defenses did not extend to his mouth. After being worn down for so long, Yu Gong Zhao Ye finally pinched the back of Wei Fu’s neck and hauled him upright. Then he caught sight of Wei Fu’s expression and froze.
Incredulously, he asked, “How are you managing to look wronged while taking advantage of me? Do I have thorns growing on my lips?”
“I don’t want to be separated from you.”
Wei Fu’s mouth drooped. Shamelessly stretching out his arms, he pulled Yu Gong Zhao Ye entirely into his embrace as though hugging a life-sized stuffed doll. Burying his face in the warmth of Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s neck, he muttered in a tone that was half sulk and half guilt-ridden, “I don’t want to go back to Bihan City.”
The scene was so familiar that Yu Gong Zhao Ye briefly lost track of time itself. After a long moment, he pinched the tip of the ear sticking out from Wei Fu’s hair and demanded with laughing exasperation, “Wei Xiao Guan, how old are you this year?”
“Thirty-two,” Wei Fu answered gloomily.
“So you do know!” Yu Gong Zhao Ye scolded softly while tugging his ear. “You were already like this at fifteen. Seven years have passed and you haven’t improved at all?”
Reluctantly raising his head, Wei Fu immediately argued back with complete confidence.
“Because I started liking you seven years ago!”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye: “…”
“And what about you?” the fox spirit counterattacked while furiously dredging up old grievances. “You only started liking me this year! Of course you can’t understand how I feel!”
“You remember me feeding you sour fruit and picking fights with you, but the moment it comes to stripping someone’s clothes when you first met them, suddenly you don’t remember anymore!”
“I was young, innocent, and pure! How was I supposed to have seen anything like that? Was it wrong for me to fall in love at first sight after you did all those things to me? Was it wrong for me to never forget? Was it wrong for me to not want to be separated from you after finally winning you over?”
“…”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye was battered speechless by the barrage of accusations. A storm of questions had crashed directly into his face, and after a long pause he could only sigh in compromise.
“The fact that you can say all that proves you’re very far from being ‘innocent and pure.’”
He could fulfill Wei Fu’s wishes without the slightest stinginess and devote himself wholeheartedly to him, yet he was still unaccustomed to confronting affection this passionate. It felt as though he were standing beneath blazing sunlight, being roasted until he wanted to shrivel up.
“Besides, who said I was going to separate from you?”
It was not only Wei Fu who found the journey home difficult to bear. This was also the first time Yu Gong Zhao Ye had seriously fallen in love, the first time he had walked beside someone he loved through spring scenery overflowing with blossoms.
Reluctance rippled back and forth through him like water, repeatedly eroding his self-control. Only reason kept him standing, and with the fox spirit beside him constantly whining and fanning the flames, anyone lacking a heart of stone would have trouble resisting. No wonder “beauty bringing ruin to a nation” had been the most popular excuse throughout history.
He had assumed Wei Fu would seize upon that remark, roll around a few times, and plead for them to travel even more slowly. Instead, the fox spirit turned out to be capable of comforting himself.
“After we get back to Bihan City, can I still kiss you whenever I want like this?”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye reluctantly hummed an affirmative response through his nose.
“Mhm. Just don’t get too carried away.”
“You won’t suddenly lose your memory and deny everything, disappear without warning, or get so busy with official duties that I won’t see you for ten days or half a month?”
“…Mhm.”
“You’ll climb over walls every day to sleep with me?”
Yu Gong Zhao Ye thought, All you ever think about is sneaking around for illicit affairs. Does your Father Emperor know how promising you’ve turned out? Yet to soothe Wei Fu’s sensitive and fragile heart, he had no choice but to answer seriously.
“Mhm.”
The face before him, suffused with a smile like spring water and peach blossoms, moved closer. The final question was practically breathed directly into his ear.
“Then… can I do it with you?”
That incomparably soft and intimate breath landed on his earlobe like a spark, instantly setting half his face ablaze.
Yu Gong Zhao Ye whipped his head around and glared at him.
“You—”
“It’s only human nature. What’s wrong with that?” Wei Fu blinked innocently. “It’s not like I’m asking to do it right here—”
His Highness immediately clamped a hand over that utterly unfiltered mouth.
With his lips squashed into the shape of a ridiculous duck bill, Wei Fu stared blankly at him for a moment before finally breaking into laughter.
Holding Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s wrist, he effortlessly removed the restraint and pressed a light kiss to the inside of it.
“Anytime is fine. Anywhere is fine. As long as it’s you.”
“I’ll be good and listen obediently, alright?”
June. Yun Lake, Yanyuan.
Violent wind and rain swept through the night. The Yanyuan soldiers huddled inside their camp listening to the thunderous downpour. In the distance, the lake’s surface churned into towering waves beneath the relentless battering. Pale mist spread across the water, while vast quantities of fine white sand accumulated on the lakebed were stirred up by the currents. From afar, the lake resembled a cauldron of boiling milk.
With weather this extreme, currents this violent and unpredictable, any vessel entering the water would capsize instantly. A person entering it would fare no better than dumplings tossed into a pot of boiling water, swept into whirlpools by the raging currents in moments. Not to mention the countless razor-sharp reefs hidden beneath the surface. This cauldron contained knife mountains, seas of blood, headwinds, and monstrous waves all at once. Even without constant patrols along the shore, no one would dare risk intruding upon this forbidden place.
On a barren beach along the Dongyu border, a squad of death warriors dressed in black diving gear entered the water one after another with large stones tied to their bodies and inflated oxhide bladders tucked against them. Following ropes that had been laid along the lakebed beforehand, they slowly groped their way forward like drifting strands of seaweed.
The stormy night, the darkness, and the opaque water perfectly concealed all activity beneath the surface. Roughly the time it took to burn one stick of incense later, the leader burst from the water with a splash. The others followed immediately behind. Swift and decisive, they landed on the beach before the isolated island, drew their weapons, and silently rushed toward the cluster of dimly lit buildings visible through the rain.
Yet before long, someone sensed that something was wrong.
Every room—or rather, this entire heavily guarded island that had remained hidden in the depths of Yun Lake for years—seemed far too quiet.
A few half-burned candles still glimmered faintly, the wax having accumulated so thickly that it overflowed the candlesticks and spread across the tabletops, yet no one had cleaned it away, nor had anyone bothered to snuff out the flames.
Because there was no one left here anymore.
The leader shoved open a concealed door set into a stone wall deep within the compound. The overpowering stench of blood that hit them head-on was so intense that several of his subordinates immediately retched aloud. The sight was horrifying enough to make even a hardened veteran like him, who had long been accustomed to life and death, feel a chill crawl down his spine.
Leaving wet footprints across the dried blood covering the floor, he raised a candlestick toward the corpse lying atop the heap of bodies. Grabbing the stiff, bluish-white face, he turned it over and found himself staring into a pair of black pupils that had already clouded and dilated.
The dead man was a middle-aged fellow with fairly ordinary features, the sort who would not particularly stand out in a crowd. He wore a neatly trimmed mustache that was easy to maintain. There were no traces of disguise on his face. His hands bore calluses from years of holding a writing brush, along with a scattering of small scars, though they were not rough. Judging from his clothing and ornaments, his status had likely not been low.
Had Jiang Feng Xun been present, she probably could have identified him at a glance. But none of those present had ever seen this man before. All they knew was that their orders from above had been to “bring back every document related to the plague within the stronghold, along with the living leader.”
Whether he had been the leader or not, he was dead now. As for the documents, they had searched all the way here only to find that every chest, cabinet, and bamboo case had already been completely emptied.
After making extensive preparations and going to such lengths, only to be beaten to the punch at the very end and left without even knowing who had done it, the leader felt an indescribable surge of frustration and humiliation. He flung the corpse back onto the pile and silently cursed.
One of his subordinates edged forward and cautiously asked, “Boss, what should we do next…?”
“Do about what? They killed everyone, and now I’m supposed to clean up after them too?!” the leader snapped through gritted teeth. “Withdraw!”
Suddenly, a sword blade extended from the side and blocked his path.
“You!”
The sword was not aimed at anyone. Instead, it slipped past him and lifted the blood-soaked front of the corpse’s robe, exposing a large wound across the chest so horrific that it was difficult to look at.
“What are you doing?!”
The leader was just about to lose his temper when, from the corner of his eye, he noticed that the hand holding the sword wore a black iron ring. In the flickering firelight, the pattern of a white egret spreading its wings flashed briefly as the wrist turned.
“Zhong Yi?!”
The eyes beneath the face covering widened in shock.
“When did you sneak in here? No, wait—what is the head of the Egret Guards doing mixed in with us Crow Guards?”
When Zhong Yi remained silent, his roar grew even more furious.
“Don’t pretend you can’t hear me! This is deceiving the emperor—a capital offense!”
“Zhong Yi! Do you really think His Majesty will tolerate you overstepping your authority and acting however you please—”
“Not just deceiving the emperor. Also failing your mission, missing a golden opportunity, and preparing to pack up and go home to farm.” Zhong Yi lifted the clothing on several more bodies for inspection, then sheathed his sword and said calmly, “We were one step too late.”
The Crow Guard leader fumed, “Stop acting like some wise old wolf here! Do you think I’m blind? I can see that much myself?!”
For some reason, Zhong Yi suddenly let out a faint chuckle, as though something had finally been clarified in his mind.
Earlier, at the residence in Fengdu, they had discussed how to locate Yanyuan’s stronghold on Yun Lake. At the time, no one had any leads. Wei Fu had casually suggested interrogating Su Lü Jing. Although Su Lü Jing certainly would not know the answer, once he returned and mentioned to the Ten Aspects Sect that Xiling had questioned him about the Yun Lake stronghold, Yanyuan would inevitably react. At that point, if they monitored the Yanyuan garrison, they might be able to follow them straight to the hidden base on Yun Lake.
Since Su Lü Jing was under Xiling’s control, the timing of his handover to Yanyuan was entirely up to them. The movements of the Yanyuan troops stationed around Yun Lake were likewise under their watch. By all rights, the fruits of this operation should have belonged to Xiling.
“We were shaken off by Longsha at least a day ago.”
Using the same calm tone one might use to say Are you satisfied now?, Zhong Yi remarked coolly, “The portions that were removed were all Ten Aspects Sect mandala tattoos. It seems this purge was undoubtedly the work of Yeguang.”
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Futile Devices Scans 
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