Time bled away, second by agonizing second.
Meng Ruji sat motionless on the doorstep for half an hour, running a rigorous inventory of her life. She meticulously recounted every detail, searching for the fatal flaw. She had killed people, and she had slain demons, but every single one was a cancer on the world, deserving of obliteration.
She could not find the answer. She could not comprehend it. If arriving in this Land of No Remain was a destined trial, then why was this particular catastrophe titled "bad luck"?
Did she deserve this fate? Did she?
As if to underscore Meng Ruji’s deep, existential malaise, a cold drizzle began to weep across the Land of No Remain.
In all her time here, this was the first rain. It felt less like nature, and more like the Nai River flowing backward, shattered into droplets that fell from the bruised sky.
The moment the moisture darkened her clothes, the anticipated, inescapable pain arrived.
It began as a dull, cracked ache in her flesh, escalating into a relentless, rhythmic pounding deep within her bones. Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed and kneaded by a hand sheathed in cold, iron nails.
Overwhelmed, Meng Ruji curled into a tight knot against the doorframe, burying her head between her knees, teeth locked against a scream. She had walked this razor’s edge before.
When the inner elixir first formed, its surging spiritual power had threatened to shred her meridians countless times. One moment of laxity, one lost flicker of control, and she would have either self-destructed, vaporized Hengxu Mountain, or released a torrent of power that would doom everyone. She could only endure the long, desolate hours of agony alone in her cultivation retreat.
Because no one could ever help her.
It had always been this way.
Then, "Plop." The sound of hurried footsteps approached, splashing through the slick mud, shattering the transparent wall around Meng Ruji's self-imposed prison.
Meng Ruji raised her head from the haze, her gaze fixed forward.
A figure, wrapped in the wind and rain, tore through the curtain of mist. Before she could even register his face, she was instantly enveloped in a cold, damp embrace.
The clean scent of wild grass filled her senses.
Meng Ruji froze for one bewildered moment, then felt the embrace slowly, miraculously, begin to warm. The other person’s natural body heat worked its way outward, ironing the chill from the rain-soaked clothes, the wet skin, until the contact was scorching.
Then, she heard it: a heartbeat. His, then hers—both frantic, accelerated beyond their usual rhythm.
The crippling pain in her body had unconsciously receded.
Meng Ruji remained stunned in the center of this embrace that banished both cold and agony. She blinked once, twice, before her mind cleared. “Mu Sui?”
Who else could it possibly be? Of course, it was Mu Sui.
As she spoke his name, Mu Sui’s grip tightened fiercely, but the very next instant, a powerful wave of restraint forced his arms away.
He slowly pulled back, his own arms tense, fists clenched and pressed to his knees. His entire body was taut, straining against the urge to pull her back, to maintain contact.
The moment their embrace broke, the cold air rushed into the space between them, chilling their now-warm skin and clothes. The contrast made her shiver uncontrollably. She instinctively reached out, leaning forward, sliding her arms around Mu Sui’s waist.
As Mu Sui stared at her, wide-eyed, Meng Ruji embraced him and pulled him forward without the slightest hesitation.
Mu Sui, already kneeling on one knee, was nearly dragged entirely to the ground.
Meng Ruji offered no apology. “Hold me a little longer. I’m cold.”
Mu Sui’s chest radiated heat, almost steaming their damp clothes dry.
After a long pause, Mu Sui’s mind reasserted itself. “Are you... hurt?”
“No,” Meng Ruji replied, tightening her hug. “My little green pill got washed away. It only hurts slightly afterward.”
Mu Sui pressed his lips together, successfully restraining his hands from returning the hug. He controlled his voice, speaking as calmly as possible.
“I was thrown far away by a river undercurrent. It took immense effort to find you.” He paused, his lips barely moving. Then, the admission burst out: “I’m sorry. I should have stayed by your side, no matter what.”
Meng Ruji blinked slowly against his chest. She released him, creating a small space between them, and tilted her head, examining his face.
Her withdrawal sent a visible tremor through Mu Sui. He wanted to reach for her but stopped himself, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose instead.
The gesture obscured his expression, but Meng Ruji could perceive the word “Regret” echoing in his heart. She couldn't tell if it was regret for leaving her, or regret for being so brutally, unguardedly honest about his feelings.
“Mu Sui, you—”
She was cut off by a theatrical sigh of self-pity from directly behind her.
Meng Ruji and Mu Sui spun around simultaneously, only to see Mo Li perched on a broken wooden bench, arms folded, legs crossed, munching on a handful of dried fruit he’d scavenged from somewhere.
“Mu Sui, you truly are shameless,” Mo Li drawled. “Where did you, the dignified Lord of Zhuliu City, learn such dirty, direct declarations?”
The moment the words left Mo Li’s mouth, all regret and restraint vanished from Mu Sui’s face. His entire aura flared with murderous intent.
In a terrifying blur, Mu Sui moved. The next sound was the sickening thud of a man hitting the ground, the crack of the flimsy bench, and Mo Li’s panicked yell:
“Unfilial daughter! Save your Father!”
“Alright,” Meng Ruji said, completely without enthusiasm.
She didn't move. She didn't even turn her head fully.
Behind her, a splintered shard of wood—held by Mu Sui—stopped inches from Mo Li’s eyeball. A fraction further, and it would pierce his skull, sending him straight to the afterlife. Given the jagged edges Mu Sui held, Mo Li's demise would be exceedingly messy.
Mu Sui gritted his teeth, his body automatically obeying Meng Ruji's single, quiet word. He turned his glare onto her.
“If we don’t kill him, this nuisance will be eternal.”
This time, it was Meng Ruji’s turn to raise her hand and rub her temples. “His stone body is currently our only currency.”
Meng Ruji stood up, still slightly unsteady from the pain's aftermath. She gripped the doorframe, closed her eyes briefly, then took a step forward. A hand immediately secured her arm.
She looked to see Mu Sui had abandoned Mo Li and was now standing by her side, holding her arm to steady her. Just as he’d promised, he was there.
Meng Ruji was stunned, then immediately grasped his forearm, using him for support without a hint of shame.
“Get up. Stop wallowing.” Meng Ruji turned her cold glare onto Mo Li, who was still sprawled on the muddy ground. “We are all here. Let’s talk.”
“Fine,” Mo Li sighed dramatically, dusting his clothes. He half-supported himself, then deliberately sank into a defeated slump. “Let’s talk. How do you plan to honor your Father in his twilight years?”
The expressions of both Meng Ruji and Mu Sui simultaneously curdled.
Mo Li pressed his advantage, addressing Mu Sui next. “By the way, since you’re already husband and wife, Lord Zhuliu, that makes you half my son. You must also consider how you will honor me.”
Mu Sui turned to look at Meng Ruji, his eyes holding only three words: Kill. Him. Now.
Meng Ruji grabbed Mu Sui’s arm, terrified he would lose control, and physically held him down into a chair by the broken table. She frantically chanted to herself: Patience! Inner peace! Take a step back…
Mo Li pouted, extending a delicate hand. “Start by helping me up, darling…”
Take a step back... The more she thought of patience, the angrier she became!
Meng Ruji slammed her palm down on the table with a deafening CRACK! “Get up! Show some respect! Or we all die together!”
Mo Li flinched, his outstretched hand snapping back mid-air.
Mu Sui looked at the deep fissure Meng Ruji's strength had carved into the wood, and fell silent.
The room was immediately plunged into a heavy quiet, broken only by the rhythmic drumming of the rain outside.
After a tense moment, Mo Li touched his nose, stood up with surprising obedience, and dragged another bench over. He sat down opposite Mu Sui, legs primly together, even covering his mouth with a cough of feigned politeness.
Mu Sui placed his hand on the table, his fingers unconsciously tracing the wood’s crack.
Everything settled.
Meng Ruji dragged a splintered wooden stool to the table and sat down, radiating an aura of severe authority.
The three sat at the square table, their hair and clothes disheveled, their expressions a study in profound mutual exasperation.
Meng Ruji spoke first. “I will provide for his retirement. I signed the agreement. I promised to care for him.” She looked directly at Mu Sui. “Killing him is not an option.”
Mu Sui’s fingers, rubbing the crack, tightened, snapping off a small wood splinter.
He raised his eyes, fixing a murderous stare on Mo Li.
Mo Li, who had been sitting meekly, straightened his spine, threw out his chest, raised his chin, and crossed his legs under the table. He folded his hands, looked at Mu Sui with a smirk, and silently mouthed the words: “Support me. I’m fine.”
“However!” Meng Ruji pivoted back to Mo Li. “Mu Sui and I have a pact to grow old together, sharing honor and disgrace. In our three-point agreement, you must respect both of us. That is the precondition for your upkeep.”
Mo Li’s smug expression faltered, his eyebrows shooting up.
Mu Sui’s murderous tension eased slightly. He raised his chin, looking at Mo Li with open disdain.
Meng Ruji continued, her tone iron-cold. “We are not related by blood. Your support is a promise, not a right. Do not insult me by calling me an unfilial daughter or son again.”
As she finished, Mu Sui balanced the wood chip on his middle finger and flicked it hard. The chip struck Mo Li’s face with a stinging thwack.
Mo Li’s fair cheek immediately reddened from the impact. His expression turned instantly chilling as he met Mu Sui’s eyes.
Mu Sui met the gaze and leaned back, adopting a posture of casual provocation. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes challenging: Did you hear that, old fool?
“Enough,” Meng Ruji sighed, covering her face with her tired hands. “Stop fighting. The three of us are traveling together now. The most urgent matter…” Meng Ruji looked at Mu Sui. “Do you still have your silver beads?”
Mu Sui, who moments ago had been arrogant, froze at the question.
He visibly shrunk in his seat and muttered, “Washed away by the river.”
Meng Ruji’s eyes narrowed. “Truly?”
Mu Sui remained silent, but turned his body slightly to face her fully. “Truly.” He looked like a child awaiting punishment.
Meng Ruji slumped. Well, she had guessed as much. What kind of lucky fortune would ever belong to them?
Gurgle, gurgle…
A faint rumbling began, the sound of a stomach urgently demanding attention. But this time, it wasn't just Mu Sui; all three in the room were restless. The sound echoed through the silent, dilapidated house, the musical cue of poverty and hunger.
“First,” Meng Ruji sighed, accepting their fate, “we must find some fruit.”
She looked around the wretched wooden house, remembering the thrill she felt when she first found the silver beads left by the bandit leader. She had believed it was the start of her counterattack in this land of no return. Instead, it was a journey of relentless frustration. After all this struggle, she hadn't gotten rich, she'd gained an unwanted 'ancestor,' and was left hungry, cold, and penniless.
Life is exhausting.
Sighing, Meng Ruji stood up, rolling up her sleeves. “After we eat, we settle accounts.” She glared first at Mo Li, then at Mu Sui. “We can’t just let the matter of jumping into the river and losing our money go unpunished!”
“After eating, you work,” Meng Ruji ordered Mo Li. “Understood?”
Mo Li smiled easily. “Of course.”
Meng Ruji glanced at Mu Sui.
Mu Sui said nothing, but silently stood and rolled up his sleeves, mirroring her. “Eat quickly.”
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