"What do you mean?" Hua Xiangwan's laugh carried a dangerous edge, though her fan never stopped its graceful motion. "How could the Hehuan Palace possibly plot to murder disciples of the Tianjian Sect? What evidence do you have?"
Xie Wushuang's voice cut through the air like a blade. "The exploding formations on both sides of the mountain—all from your Hehuan Sect. The two boulders blocking the road bear Hehuan Sect seals. Assassins stationed on both flanks." His gaze never wavered. "How do you explain that?"
The fan in Hua Xiangwan's hand paused mid-twirl. "Well..." She resumed the motion, buying herself precious seconds. "I can explain."
"Explain." The word came immediately, sharp and uncompromising, denying her even a moment to gather her thoughts.
Silence stretched between them like a taut string ready to snap. Hua Xiangwan's mind raced through possibilities, excuses, half-truths. Then realization dawned with uncomfortable clarity.
There really wasn't much to explain.
"Okay." She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, letting her spine straighten with resignation. "We did set those up. I admit that. But it wasn't to murder Tianjian Sect disciples."
"What did you want?"
"I'm telling you, but you have to swear not to tell anyone else."
Xie Wushuang's silence spoke volumes.
Hua Xiangwan's thoughts shifted tactics. He came to investigate—he'd have to report to his elders regardless. He couldn't simply say nothing. What mattered was keeping the disciples below in the dark, preventing them from growing wary and ruining everything.
"You can't tell the Tianjian Sect disciples currently in Zui Town," she amended.
"Okay." This time, no hesitation.
Relief flooded through her. Since Xie Wushuang was willing to concede, she might as well tell the truth. "We did set an ambush in the canyon, but only to create some manageable difficulties for the Tianjian Sect disciples. I would swoop in to rescue them, leave a favorable impression." Her expression darkened. "But then people from Mingluan Palace appeared out of nowhere. They wanted to use our magic circle to slaughter the Tianjian Sect disciples and pin the blame on us."
"Who came from Mingluan Palace?"
No skepticism colored his question—only focused interest. Hua Xiangwan replayed the memory. "Elite forces, led by the second young master of Mingluan Palace, Qin Yunshang. Spirit Transformation Stage cultivation. Second only to the young palace master Qin Yunyi herself. She wouldn't appear for ordinary missions, yet she came all the way to the Western Territory..."
The more she spoke, the deeper her unease grew. "I truly don't know why. If it was merely to sow discord between our sects, she was being remarkably extravagant."
Xie Wushuang fell silent, apparently lost in thought.
Panic fluttered in Hua Xiangwan's chest. What if he didn't believe her? "I'm not lying. It was definitely Qin Yunshang who came."
"I know." Then, without preamble: "Why do you want to leave a good impression on the Tianjian Sect?"
Heat crept up Hua Xiangwan's neck at the blunt question. "Well... I'm here to propose marriage to the Tianjian Sect, aren't I? I wanted to cultivate some... feelings beforehand."
The implication hung unspoken in the air, but anyone with half a brain could read between the lines.
She'd lied to him about who she intended to marry.
Xie Wushuang offered no response, seemingly weighing her words.
Hua Xiangwan mentally reviewed her explanation. The logic was sound, crystal clear. Aside from the embarrassment factor, there was nothing to worry about.
And as for being embarrassed...
Well, Xie Wushuang didn't want her anyway. It hardly mattered.
She lowered her gaze, picked up the nearby teacup, and took a measured sip. After several long moments, Xie Wushuang finally spoke: "Yiran—"
His voice carried through the room. Hua Xiangwan set down the teacup as a soft creak announced the door opening behind her. Light spilled across the floor as Jiang Yiran appeared in the doorway. "Brother."
"Take Young Master Hua downstairs and arrange a guest room."
The words "arrange a guest room" told Hua Xiangwan everything she needed to know. The matter was settled. She exhaled quietly, rose with practiced grace, and offered a polite farewell. "Xie Daojun, until we meet again."
She moved toward the door where Jiang Yiran waited. Shen Xiuwen stood off to the side, his expression gentle as she approached. "Young Master, have a good rest."
"Thank you, Shen Daojun, for your concern." Hua Xiangwan's smile carried hidden meaning. "Have a sweet dream tonight."
After Hua Xiangwan departed, Shen Xiuwen entered the lobby. His hand moved in a swift gesture, erecting a soundproof barrier before he approached Xie Wushuang and offered a respectful salute. "Your Majesty."
Xie Wushuang—or rather, Xie Changji controlling his younger brother's body—lifted his teacup. His voice remained steady, authoritative. "Continue observing the Hehuan Palace. Simultaneously, have the disciples in the shadows watch for the second young master of Mingluan Palace in the Western Territory. Other sects are likely hiding in the darkness as well."
"Yes."
"The Lingxu Secret Realm will manifest at Xifeng Mountain in five days. The exact location remains unknown. We rest for one day, then depart tomorrow to prepare our entry into the mountain."
"And the Hehuan Palace...?"
"Suspicion has not been eliminated. They'll accompany us into the mountain to prevent any complications."
"Understood. I'll make preparations."
Shen Xiuwen nodded and turned to leave, but had barely taken a step when Xie Changji's voice stopped him. "Wait."
Xie Changji rose, circled behind him, and raised his hand. He traced patterns in the air near the back of Shen Xiuwen's neck. A magical seal floated forth from beneath the skin, settling onto his fingertips like a luminous insect.
Shen Xiuwen registered the wrongness and turned. His eyes fixed on the rune mark glowing crimson on Xie Changji's finger, his expression shifting to shocked confusion.
"This is...?"
"The Dream Seal."
Xie Changji's explanation was clinical, precise. "With this mark, one can enter your dreams. It's often used to interfere with others' minds. If their mental fortitude is weak, they can be easily guided and controlled."
Shen Xiuwen's face darkened with self-recrimination. "This disciple was insufficiently careful."
"She has reached Divine Transformation Stage." Xie Changji's tone held no blame, only reassurance. "If I weren't here, you wouldn't have discovered it."
Silence. But guilt still shadowed Shen Xiuwen's features.
Xie Changji angled toward him, as if perceiving him through the white silk covering his eyes. "What did she say to you earlier?"
"The young master first inquired about matters you were about to question me on, hoping I might help her. Then she said something else..." Even knowing Hua Xiangwan's duplicitous nature, unease colored Shen Xiuwen's voice. "I don't quite understand it."
"What?"
"Young Master Hua said..." Embarrassment tinged his words. "She has someone she loves within the Tianjian Sect. She asked me to guess who."
Xie Changji went utterly still.
Shen Xiuwen waited through the lengthening silence, finally venturing cautiously: "Shangjun?"
"Mm." Xie Changji's composure returned, his tone carefully neutral. "Pay it no mind. But since she planted the dream seal, we should discover her intentions." He extended his hand. "Take it back."
"Shangjun..." Shen Xiuwen stared at the talisman Xie Changji offered, hesitation written across his features. "Young Master Hua's cultivation is profound, and this disciple's mental fortitude is... insufficient. I fear that in the dream, I might..."
"I understand."
Before Shen Xiuwen could finish articulating his concerns, Xie Changji grasped them. "Go. Arrange the itinerary and get some rest."
Relief washed visibly over Shen Xiuwen at not being forced to face Hua Xiangwan in his dreams. He bowed deeply. "This disciple takes his leave."
After Shen Xiuwen departed, Xie Changji gazed down at the talisman resting on his fingertip. Shen Xiuwen's words echoed through his mind: "Young Master Hua said she has someone she loves in the Heavenly Sword Sect. Let me guess who it is."
He stared at the talisman for what felt like an eternity before raising his hand and pressing it against his own arm.
Altering one's spiritual appearance wasn't particularly difficult. Since Shen Xiuwen didn't dare see her in dreams, he would go himself and discover her true purpose.
But those same words, that same method of dream manipulation...
Could such a coincidence truly exist?
Doubt unfurled in his chest, followed by another question: When had she said those words to him?
Their time together had been so brief—a mere three years.
Yet she'd been gone for so long. Two hundred years.
For two centuries, new memories had constantly emerged, competing to replace her. Every time he noticed a memory beginning to fade, panic seized him.
He opened his palm. Another dream butterfly materialized, its wings shimmering with captured moments.
When had she said this?
He reached out, fingers brushing the butterfly's delicate form. His vision slowly dimmed as sounds rose around him—children playing, wind sweeping through wheat fields, and a girl's voice, bright and teasing: "Xie Changji, I've recently found someone I like."
Light gradually returned to his vision. He saw a young man walking along a country path, carrying a girl on his back. Her arms wound around his neck as she whispered in his ear: "Guess who it is?"
The young man remained silent, eyes slightly downcast. He continued forward with measured steps, as if he hadn't heard.
The girl's smile turned mischievous as she leaned to glimpse his profile. "Think about it... the people I've met recently. Young Master Zhang, Young Master Wang, Zhao Daojun... oh, and my friend Shen Yichen..."
Before she could complete her list, the young man abruptly released her, letting her tumble to the ground.
The girl sat stunned. The young man moved aside, gathering branches and vines with practiced efficiency, weaving them into a makeshift chair.
He returned with an expressionless face, crouched with the chair on his back, and spoke with flat calm: "Come up."
"Why...?" Confusion colored the girl's voice. "Why do you suddenly want a chair...?"
"There are differences between men and women." The boy's tone remained solemn, unyielding. "I didn't find proper materials earlier. I have been improper."
"But you've already carried me," the girl protested. "Do you really care about the duration? Besides, I don't mind."
Despite her wild reasoning, the boy's expression never shifted. He maintained his position, waiting in implacable silence.
The standoff stretched on until the girl finally surrendered, unable to outlast his stubbornness. She had no choice but to sit on the chair.
The boy hoisted her up, but his expression grew even more sour.
The girl, seated with her back to him, couldn't see his face. She could only sigh softly. "Xie Daojun, you truly don't understand romance."
The boy said nothing, lowering his head as he continued walking.
"Just now, when I said I had someone I loved, you were supposed to ask me who." The girl's voice carried a note of helpless exasperation as she turned to look at him. "Only after you ask can I answer that it's you. How am I possibly supposed to say it when you won't even respond?"
"Oh."
After a prolonged pause, the boy uttered that single syllable—bland, inarticulate, its meaning utterly incomprehensible.
The girl's irritation flared into speechlessness. After a long moment, she snorted, turned away, and muttered darkly: "You dreadful Taoist priest! You'll spend your whole life alone!"
The boy absorbed her scolding without protest, carrying her steadily forward on his back.
Along the country road, evening wind swept across surrounding wheat fields, rendering even the setting sun especially gentle.
The distant Xie Changji watched them walk away, observing in silence for what felt like both an instant and an eternity.
When the illusion concluded, Xie Changji opened his eyes to find the dream butterfly had settled on the table, devoid of any spark of life.
A breeze drifted through the window, disintegrating the butterfly into ash that scattered on the wind.
Xie Changji turned his head toward the window, only then realizing night had fully fallen. The lanterns in the corridor beyond had all been extinguished.
It was time for rest.
He considered this for a moment, then stood and moved to the bedside. Setting his sword within reach, he lay down.
Time to sleep.
When the Dream Seal transmitted news that "Shen Xiuwen" had finally fallen asleep, Hua Xiangwan nearly wept with relief.
She'd spent the past two days either traveling or fighting. As an "ordinary person" without a golden core, she'd desperately craved sleep. But her companions wouldn't allow it, fearing daytime sleep would prevent her from resting at night and missing Shen Xiuwen's dreams.
Time was precious. They had so little left—each day diminished their chances. They couldn't afford to waste a single night.
So while everyone else retired, she alone had been forced to remain awake, suffering.
Who could have predicted "Shen Xiuwen" would prove such an energetic night owl? Only now, with the corridor lanterns extinguished, had he finally succumbed to sleep.
No time to waste. She quickly changed into a thin white sleeping robe, returned to her bed, and lowered the curtains. Lighting soothing incense, she lay down and closed her eyes.
She'd only attempted dream seduction once before: with Xie Changji.
As the saying went, "What you think about during the day, you dream about at night." But if you dream at night, you inevitably think about it during the day.
Sending erotic dreams to those they fancied was standard practice at Hehuan Palace. Hua Xiangwan had always disdained such tactics. But back then, with Xie Changji so stubbornly unreachable, she'd resorted to desperate measures.
Despite her considerable efforts, Xie Changji had remained as unmoved as the legendary Liu Xiahui throughout her dream. He'd even draped her clothes over her and earnestly advised: "It's dawn. Return home. Don't enter my dreams again, or you might get hurt."
The fury had nearly made her cough blood.
How could this be called a swordsman? This was a living Buddha, completely severed from earthly desires.
If not for their subsequent dual cultivation when they'd both faced death—when she'd finally experienced his passion—she would have continued doubting whether Xie Changji practiced some technique requiring castration for success.
That experience had been so devastating that she hadn't employed this method in all the years since.
If not for having only six days remaining, she wouldn't resort to it now.
Suddenly forced to use it again left her somewhat at a loss. After consideration, she decided to simply try once more.
What her senior sister had taught her couldn't be entirely useless.
Thinking of her senior sister brought an involuntary bitter smile to Hua Xiangwan's lips. Her mind drifted to memories of Hu Mian—draped in fox fur and crimson robes—teaching her dream weaving and the art of seducing Xie Changji.
She'd asked hesitantly, "Isn't this somewhat improper? Does it count as deception?"
Hu Mian had smiled softly, tumbling gracefully from her tree perch. She'd lifted one finger—its nail painted vivid red—and placed it gently against Hua Xiangwan's lips.
"Silly Junior Sister," Hu Mian had murmured. "If you can truly deceive someone's heart... it's not really a lie."
Just like with Xie Changji all those years ago. If he hadn't harbored feelings for her, she couldn't have reached him at all, much less deceived him.
Fortunately, there was only one Xie Changji in this world.
She'd fallen for him back then, and she refused to believe everyone in the Tianjian Sect shared his impossible virtue.
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