Chapter 31: Goddess Mountain

Noticing Xie Changji's pace slow to something deliberate, almost hesitant, Hua Xiangwan turned around with curious eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." The word emerged clipped, final. Xie Changji's gaze shifted away, but the evasion itself was telling. Hua Xiangwan could sense the displeasure radiating from him like heat from stone warmed by afternoon sun.

He was always reserved, his emotions locked behind layers of careful control. If he allowed anything to show on the surface, it meant the feeling had already reached depths he could no longer entirely contain.

She considered this for a moment, then deliberately stepped back to his side, choosing directness over dancing around the obvious. "Are you unhappy?"

"Yes." Xie Changji didn't bother with pretense.

Hua Xiangwan thought for a moment, her mind working through possibilities. "Because of Yun Qingxu?"

"Yes." The confirmation came swift and honest.

Hua Xiangwan wasn't surprised. He had always been like this—quietly possessive, silently resistant to her interactions with other men. He wouldn't stop her, would never voice actual objections, might even push her away while claiming to "accept" her wishes. But she could still read the unhappiness in the set of his shoulders, sense the depression that settled over him like fog, even catch glimpses of something that resembled grief.

At first, she'd thought it was jealousy, that he harbored feelings for her, and the realization had sent secret joy blooming in her chest. But later, she'd come to understand that sometimes people are simply born with possessive streaks woven into their nature. Like children who don't like sharing toys or friends, who guard what little they have with fierce determination.

This had nothing to do with love. It was simply Xie Changji's fundamental character.

He had walked a solitary cultivation path since childhood, deliberately devoid of love and desire, without family or friends to anchor him. He even had to restrain himself from forming attachments to cats and dogs, from allowing warmth to take root anywhere in his carefully controlled existence. He possessed so little in this life, and once he finally had something—anything—he proved unwilling to share it with anyone.

Thinking of this, Hua Xiangwan couldn't suppress a pang of sympathy. After all, it was genuinely rare to encounter someone living such a fundamentally lonely existence.

She walked beside him and nudged him with her elbow in that familiar, playful way. "Hey."

Xie Changji turned to regard her, his expression guarded. Hua Xiangwan gestured toward him with theatrical flourish. "Look, I don't have anything in my hand."

Xie Changji didn't understand what performance she was orchestrating, but he watched her quietly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yes, nothing."

"But!" Hua Xiangwan reached out with the confidence of a street magician, her fingers brushing behind his ear and flicking through his hair as if extracting something from the air itself. She quickly withdrew her hand and presented a small white flower before his startled gaze. "Look!"

Xie Changji stared at the delicate blossom, something vulnerable flickering across his usually impassive features.

Hua Xiangwan's eyes sparkled with triumph. "There's no spiritual energy fluctuation, right? I didn't use magic. Here—" She carefully tucked the small flower into the fabric of his clothes, smoothing the material with gentle fingers, then beamed at him with unguarded warmth. "Here's a little flower for you. Don't be upset."

Xie Changji found himself transfixed by her smile. When she'd presented herself as a boy, her smile had carried a certain clarity and unrestrained quality. But now, she possessed something different—an innocent brightness somehow preserved despite having weathered life's vicissitudes, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

This kind of smile was breathtaking in its purity. He didn't dare look directly at it for long, dropping his eyes to the small flower adorning his clothes instead.

These were just wildflowers, the sort that grew commonplace along any roadside. Unremarkable blooms that most would pass without noticing. Yet as he gazed at this single blossom, he felt as if he were witnessing an entire mountain dressed in spring glory, as if the gods themselves had gathered all the world's beauty and laid it at his feet.

Seeing his mood visibly lift, Hua Xiangwan knew she'd successfully appeased him. Xie Changji was simple in his needs, she'd learned—always easily pleased by small gestures of thoughtfulness.

She turned and walked ahead, practical as ever. "Come on if you're feeling better. Don't delay things."

"Okay." Xie Changji followed behind her, his gaze dropping repeatedly to the small flower secured against his chest. After a moment's hesitation, he couldn't help but ask, "What...what did you like about me before?"

"I liked your good looks," Hua Xiangwan answered with casual honesty, as if cataloging items in an inventory. "I liked how beautifully you wielded your sword, how the blade sang in your hands. I liked how you blushed, that sudden color in your cheeks." She paused, then added with particular emphasis, "And most importantly—"

Hua Xiangwan turned her head, her expression hovering somewhere between jest and earnestness. "Back then, I liked you because you were upright, jade-like, orchid-like—the perfect young Taoist priest, didn't I?"

Upright, jade-like, orchid-like.

The words settled over him like a judgment. He glanced at her retreating form, then looked down at his empty hands, feeling their weight. His sword was gone—that extension of himself he'd carried for so long, now absent.

With deliberate care, he sealed the small flower with his spiritual power, preserving it in stasis, and hid it within a cold box before placing it in his Qiankun bag. Some treasures demanded protection.

The two walked and chatted with the ease of long familiarity, and soon arrived at the foot of Goddess Mountain. From a distance, they could smell the swirling incense smoke and hear the keening cries and rhythmic chanting of local people conducting their rituals.

Hua Xiangwan pulled Xie Changji back behind cover. After observing for a while, she identified shamans who had erected an altar at the mountain's base, their bodies moving in ceremonial dance, voices lifted in ancient songs.

She considered the situation, then turned to him with pragmatic certainty. "Let's take a detour, so as not to agitate them again."

The two circled around, found a secluded entrance point, and began their ascent. The lower slopes proved manageable, but after climbing a short distance upward, the discernible path simply vanished. Goddess Mountain appeared to be enclosed by an invisible dome, some kind of barrier.

Hua Xiangwan and Xie Changji observed for a moment, confirming it was indeed a protective barrier—an insurmountable obstacle for ordinary mortals, but nothing particularly challenging for cultivators of their caliber.

Hua Xiangwan nodded and extended her hand with businesslike efficiency. "Give me spiritual power."

Xie Changji raised his hand and grasped hers, allowing his spiritual power to flow smoothly into her body like water finding its level. Most of her meridians had already been opened through their previous work together, and she discovered that Xie Changji's spiritual power integrated perfectly with her golden core, as if it were her own native energy. There was none of the resistance or discomfort she'd experienced when borrowing spiritual power from others in the past.

She circulated the borrowed power through established channels, chanting the necessary incantations under her breath, and placed her free hand against the barrier's surface. After a moment of concentration, the barrier dissolved like morning mist, revealing a shimmering gate of light.

Hua Xiangwan released her grip and turned to call over her shoulder. "Let's go."

Xie Changji followed her through the threshold, maintaining his hold on her hand the entire time. His spiritual power continued its constant circulation, as if maintaining vigilant guard against unseen threats.

Hua Xiangwan understood he was concerned about potential dangers lurking within the barrier, so she didn't pull away. She let him maintain that protective grip as they ascended the mountain path together.

The moment they crossed through the barrier, they were assaulted by a sudden onslaught of snowflakes rushing toward them like attacking birds. Hua Xiangwan instinctively squinted against the assault, but Xie Changji was already positioning himself to shield her.

"We can't use spiritual power here." His voice carried warning and explanation in equal measure. He kept himself between Hua Xiangwan and the worst of the wind as he elaborated on why the barrier couldn't simply be forced. "This snow mountain has formed a self-contained magical array, essentially creating another small world with its own rules and limitations. However, its structural integrity is extremely fragile. Spiritual power circulation can only occur within the human body to maintain basic temperature regulation. If we actively deploy it beyond that, once the spiritual power exceeds this small world's capacity, the entire construct will collapse. Just follow behind me."

The unspoken implication hung in the air: the Demon Lord's Blood Token might well be hidden somewhere within this precarious pocket dimension. If the small world collapsed, they'd have to start their search from the very beginning, following cold trails and chasing rumors.

Hua Xiangwan extended her senses, gauging the spiritual power capacity of this constructed space. At most, it could withstand pressure at the Nascent Soul stage—and Xie Changji's cultivation far exceeded such limitations.

Understanding his meaning perfectly, she nodded acceptance. But then embarrassment colored her features as another concern surfaced. "You walk ahead for a while shielding me, then I'll take the front to shield you for a while. We can alternate, give each other rest periods."

"It's alright." Xie Changji's response came swift and certain. "The Realm of Life and Death maintains conditions like this year-round. I'm accustomed to it, and besides…"

He hesitated for just a moment, as if weighing whether to voice the thought, but finally allowed the words to emerge. "We don't need to be so precise about such things between us."

With that settled, the two began their ascent in earnest. Snow fell heavily, relentlessly, accumulating in thick drifts that obscured the ground. The landscape around them seemed devoid of features—nothing existed except the endless white expanse, as if the entire world had been reduced to snow and the two of them trudging through it.

Without clear landmarks or established paths, they made the pragmatic decision to head for the summit first, hoping to survey the full scope of their situation from that vantage point.

The cold proved extremely difficult for Hua Xiangwan to endure, her constitution not built for such extremes. But Xie Changji's spiritual energy maintained its constant circulation within her, creating an invisible shield against the oncoming wind. With his protection, she found the conditions challenging but manageable.

They walked for an entire day, Xie Changji methodically collecting dry branches along their route and storing them in his Qiankun bag with the practiced efficiency of someone who'd survived countless harsh journeys. As night deepened around them, they finally reached the mountainside, where the wind and snow had lessened considerably in intensity.

Spotting a cave ahead—a dark mouth in the white landscape—Xie Changji turned to ask, "Shall we rest for a bit?"

Hua Xiangwan nodded gratefully, and he pulled her toward the shelter. The cave wasn't particularly large, but once they crossed its threshold, it successfully kept the worst of the cold wind at bay. The temperature differential was immediate and blessed.

Xie Changji moved ahead cautiously, and after confirming there were no dangers lurking in the cave's deeper recesses, he produced a piece of warm jade and handed it to Hua Xiangwan. "I'll start a fire. You rest."

Hua Xiangwan murmured agreement, and Xie Changji released her hand. Without spiritual energy actively circulating to maintain her warmth, even holding the precious warm jade, Hua Xiangwan felt cold seeping into her bones. She followed beside Xie Changji, hopping and skipping in place, trying to generate heat through movement.

Fortunately, Xie Changji worked with impressive speed. In moments, the collected dry branches were ablaze, crackling cheerfully. He then extracted a warm jade bed from the seemingly bottomless depths of his Qiankun bag, positioned it carefully on the ground, spread a quilt across its surface with meticulous attention to wrinkles, and gestured for Hua Xiangwan to sit.

He then moved to the cave entrance to hang a protective curtain.

It seemed his Qiankun bag contained absolutely everything one could possibly need for comfortable survival in the wilderness—a mobile home compressed into portable space.

After retrieving a piece of fine gauze and securing it across the cave's opening, the temperature inside immediately rose several appreciable degrees. The material was remarkably thin and sheer; one could see clearly outward from the interior, but the reverse proved impossible. Without requiring a proper barrier that might draw attention, it proved an excellent method for concealing their presence while maintaining visibility.

Having completed his preparations, he returned and settled himself next to Hua Xiangwan, his voice soft as he announced his intentions. "I'll make you some soup. You can hold my hand while I work."

Hua Xiangwan, without the slightest hesitation or self-consciousness, immediately reached out and latched onto his arm with both hands.

Xie Changji went absolutely still. Hua Xiangwan looked up at him, manufactured a somewhat sheepish smile, and offered explanation. "I'm so cold."

Hearing this justification, Xie Changji made a small sound of acknowledgment. Spiritual energy began flowing from his body immediately, and warmth flooded back into Hua Xiangwan's frame like a benediction.

She felt so comfortable she wanted to sigh with pure relief.

Xie Changji retrieved a pot, added ginger and water with practiced measurements, dissolved a sugar pill into the mixture, and positioned the pot over the fire to heat.

From their very first meeting, Xie Changji had demonstrated extraordinary consideration regarding daily life's practical matters. His Qiankun bag seemed filled not with fearsome weapons befitting a legendary sword cultivator, but rather with an impressive array of strange and wonderful household items designed for comfort and convenience.

During the three years she'd followed him in her previous timeline, while other aspects of their relationship had proved complicated, Xie Changji had certainly never neglected her material needs and physical comfort. When traveling, regardless of their destination or circumstances, he somehow managed to make the best of any situation.

He appeared to the world as a cool, aloof sword cultivator—distant and untouchable. But his actual day-to-day existence was surprisingly refined, almost domestic in its attention to detail.

It's just that back then he'd been poor, far less financially comfortable than his current circumstances allowed. She remembered him sleeping on rough piles of straw, the clothes hanging outside his cave crafted from the most ordinary, cheapest cloth available.

Now that he commanded wealth and resources, life had become even more pleasant. Every comfort readily available.

Hua Xiangwan watched the water in the pot gradually heating, steam beginning to curl upward, and felt drowsiness creeping over her like a heavy blanket. She vaguely thought she heard singing—distant, ethereal—but when she concentrated and tried to listen more carefully, she could only discern the wind's howl.

The wind outside seemed to be growing stronger with the deepening night. She concluded she must be imagining things, her mind playing tricks in her exhausted state.

She didn't force herself to stay alert. Instead, she gave in to the exhaustion and lazily leaned against Xie Changji's solid shoulder, letting his warmth seep into her.

Xie Changji noticed her movement immediately and turned his head to regard her. Hua Xiangwan looked up through half-lidded eyes. "You mind?"

"No." He turned back to face the dancing firelight, his voice carrying quiet certainty. "I don't mind what you do."

"That's good." Hua Xiangwan yawned, her jaw cracking with the stretch. "I'm not one to suffer in silence. If you feel uncomfortable with something, just say so directly."

"Okay." The single word emerged soft as falling snow.

A moment later, the water reached a rolling boil. He poured the ginger soup into a bowl with careful attention, and when he lifted it to test the temperature, he found it had cooled to the perfect drinking warmth. He handed it to Hua Xiangwan with the solemnity of presenting medicine. "Spirit ginger cultivated by the Heavenly Sword Sect. It warms the body and dispels cold effectively. Drink it before you sleep."

"I know." Hua Xiangwan had consumed this particular brew before and recognized its properties. She'd also heard it was quite precious—Xie Changji used to possess only one or two pieces, carefully rationed. Now it seemed his supply had expanded considerably.

But the taste remained thoroughly unpleasant. Even with the sugar pills added to cut the intensity, the ginger still burned with aggressive spice.

Hua Xiangwan pinched her nose closed and forced herself to drink half the bowl before her tolerance gave out entirely. She stuck out her tongue in distaste and thrust the bowl back toward Xie Changji. "I don't want anymore. I really can't drink another drop."

Xie Changji didn't speak immediately. His gaze swept over her water-dampened lips, noting how they glistened in the firelight, catching a glimpse of her tongue barely visible inside her mouth. He looked away deliberately, lowering his eyes to suppress whatever expression threatened to surface, and drank the remaining half bowl of soup without comment.

"Sleep." His voice emerged rougher than usual.

Hua Xiangwan, oblivious to the undercurrents, removed her outer garments, lay down on the warm jade bed, and burrowed gratefully into the quilt's embrace.

Seeing her settle in for the night, Xie Changji followed their established pattern—lying down on his side and drawing her into his arms with the familiarity of long habit.

The wind and snow outside seemed to intensify with the night's deepening. The distant howling of wolves carried on the wind, predators calling to each other in the darkness.

Xie Changji held her hand and patted it with reassuring rhythm. "Sleep."

Hua Xiangwan closed her eyes, everything seemingly identical to countless other nights they'd shared shelter.

But for reasons she couldn't quite identify, distracting thoughts began intruding on her attempts at rest. As soon as she closed her eyes, she became hyperaware of the temperature behind her—Xie Changji's body heat seeming hotter than usual, more intense. This perception made her feel inexplicably overheated in response, despite the cold beyond their shelter.

She couldn't sleep. And she sensed, somehow, that neither could he.

They remained frozen in their customary position, both acutely aware and neither acknowledging it.

Xie Changji's hand rested at her waist. She suddenly became conscious of how large his hands were, how they could easily encircle most of her waist with room to spare.

The jade bed radiated warmth beneath them, its surface possessing that unique smoothness particular to quality jade. Heat rose from below, and certain fragments from the past suddenly surfaced unbidden—his restrained breathing, the memory of him pressed against her from behind, his hands secured around her waist in a grip that had nothing to do with casual touch.

The images surged forward with visceral clarity, causing Hua Xiangwan's breathing to become momentarily erratic.

Seemingly responding to the change in her respiration, Xie Changji's own breathing grew more pronounced, more audible. His hand slowly moved away from the relative safety of her waist, beginning a tentative journey upward, fingers trailing across fabric with agonizing slowness.

Hua Xiangwan realized with crystalline clarity what he intended to do next. Her body responded—going liquid and pliant—but her mind sensed something fundamentally wrong about the situation, some external influence at work.

Xie Changji hesitated for reasons he himself probably couldn't articulate. Perhaps he, too, sensed the wrongness, the external pressure affecting their judgment.

His hand climbed with excruciating deliberation. Just as his fingers were about to cover the soft spot he'd been navigating toward, a zither melody suddenly pierced the night from somewhere outside the cave!

The music jolted Hua Xiangwan into complete awareness like ice water thrown on heated skin. She grabbed his wandering hand and spoke with forced calm, pushing past the embarrassment. "Something is interfering with our minds. Someone's outside."

She sat up instantly, snatched her outer robe, and draped it over her shoulders. The chilling air hit her overheated skin, shocking her into complete clarity. She cast a cold, analytical glance toward the cave entrance.

After a moment's assessment, she made her decision and stepped outside into the snow.

The music hadn't employed spiritual power in its execution—it must have been produced by swords striking zither strings, a technique particular to one sect. Using a musical instrument as a weapon clearly indicated practitioners from Qingyue Palace.

Goddess Mountain fell under Qingyue Palace's jurisdiction, so discovering their people here wasn't particularly surprising.

Watching her rush toward potential danger, Xie Changji pressed his lips into a thin line, grabbed his own robe, and immediately followed her into the night.

The moment they emerged from the cave's relative shelter, biting wind swept over them with renewed viciousness. Xie Changji captured Hua Xiangwan's hand in his and asked in a low, urgent voice, "What are you looking for?"

They had come to this mountain searching for the Demon Lord's Blood Token. Upon hearing sounds of combat, the logical response was to avoid entanglement, not actively seek out the conflict.

Hua Xiangwan ignored his reasonable question. She closed her eyes, extending her divine sense to scan their surroundings, then hurried toward a nearby location with purpose.

Xie Changji pulled her along, positioning himself to shield her from the worst of the wind, matching her pace. Observing her urgent manner and recalling the musical attack from moments before, his heart sank with dawning comprehension.

He didn't voice further objections. The two hurried forward together.

Before long, they heard unmistakable sounds of active combat ahead.

"Wen Shaoqing," a voice of indeterminate gender rang out through the storm, dripping with malicious satisfaction, "if you hadn't been born into a good family with powerful connections, what do you think you'd actually amount to?"

Hearing that particular name, Xie Changji turned to look at Hua Xiangwan with new understanding.

Hua Xiangwan pulled him forward more urgently. She concealed her presence with practiced skill and crouched behind a large boulder, pulling Xie Changji down beside her.

From their vantage point, they could observe the scene clearly. A figure with elaborate makeup and an enormous, ornate headdress led a group of armed individuals in surrounding their quarry.

Wen Shaoqing was clearly injured, his movements hampered. A guqin lay beside him on the blood-stained snow as he collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily. "Wu Li, are you insane? Your young master sent you to assist me, and this is how you choose to interpret those orders?"

"Insane?" The person addressed as Wu Li laughed, the sound carrying genuine amusement as he tilted his head with theatrical curiosity. "When Young Master Wen dies in an unfortunate accident during our expedition, what does that have to do with us? We'll simply report the tragedy. Now—hand over the Dragon-Seeking Compass, and I'll at least leave you a whole corpse as a final courtesy!"

Hearing this revelation, Hua Xiangwan's heart skipped a beat with sudden interest.

The Dragon-Seeking Compass—that was an extraordinarily valuable item, the sort of artifact that could change the entire nature of their search. As long as you placed the aura signature of whatever you sought onto the Dragon-Seeking Compass, it would point the way with unerring accuracy.

The Demon Lord's Blood Token was imbued with the Demon Lord's blood essence. With just a single drop of the Demon Lord's blood to attune the compass, finding the Blood Token would become absurdly simple—as easy as following a map with the destination already marked.

She considered the tactical situation for a moment, then lowered her voice to a whisper directed at Xie Changji. "Without using spiritual power beyond body enhancement, how confident are you in your ability to save these people?"

Xie Changji looked up at her with unreadable eyes but didn't answer immediately.

Hua Xiangwan understood his silence perfectly—he disagreed with intervening to rescue them.

Given that Wen Shaoqing had repeatedly caused him various troubles and annoyances since arriving in this region, his lack of enthusiasm for saving the young master was entirely reasonable, even expected.

However, for the sake of their larger mission—for the Dragon-Seeking Compass that could make everything so much simpler—she could only attempt persuasion. "I need that Dragon-Seeking Compass."

Upon hearing this practical justification, Xie Changji lowered his eyes, his voice emerging flat and cold. "Then you can kill them all afterward and take it."

Hua Xiangwan felt the words catch in her throat. But after thinking for a moment about his fundamental nature, she didn't press the point further. Instead, she patted his hand with reassurance. "Then wait for me here. I'll handle it."

As she spoke, she extracted a collection of hidden weapons from her Qiankun bag and began attaching them to strategic points on her body.

Without spiritual power to fuel techniques, a magic cultivator was effectively crippled in combat. Fortunately, her meridians had improved substantially in recent days, restored enough that she should be able to employ some close-combat weapons with at least minimal effectiveness.

Xie Changji glanced at her coldly, then turned his attention back to the scene unfolding ahead.

Wu Li's voice carried cruel amusement. "Do you honestly think the Dragon-Seeking Compass is something trash like you could ever successfully use?"

"Enough pointless talk," Wu Li's tone shifted to pure threat. "Hand it over now, or I'll ensure you wish you were dead long before I actually grant that mercy."

"Then try it!" Wen Shaoqing's defiance rang clear despite his injuries.

As soon as the challenge left his lips, Wen Shaoqing raised his hand and placed it on his zither, clearly preparing to pluck the strings and unleash a devastating attack.

Hua Xiangwan saw this development and her mind instantly supplied the problem. "This is bad."

Although Wen Shaoqing's cultivation only reached the Nascent Soul stage, if Wu Li responded with his full power, there was no guarantee this fragile small world could withstand the energy exchange. The entire pocket dimension might collapse.

Hua Xiangwan started to rise, preparing to intervene—but the moment she moved, her sword was suddenly no longer in her possession.

White-clad figures flashed through the falling snow like phantoms. Sword light blazed like a rainbow cutting through storm clouds, and in the space between one heartbeat and the next, Wu Li's throat opened in a precise line.

Sword cultivators don't require spiritual power for their fundamental techniques—they can reach devastating effectiveness through pure sword intent alone. In this environment that restricted spiritual power usage, the inherent advantages of sword cultivation became absolutely dominant.

Taking advantage of the chaos and shock, Hua Xiangwan grabbed Wen Shaoqing's arm, snatched up his precious zither in her other hand, and pulled him away from the kill zone. "Go! Move now!"

Wen Shaoqing staggered as Hua Xiangwan hauled him away from his attackers, his injuries making coordination difficult.

Xie Changji blocked the pursuit route, his bloodied sword held with casual menace as he regarded the remaining enemies. His voice emerged soft, almost conversational. "Pursue or die. The choice is entirely yours."

No one dared answer. No one even dared breathe too loudly.

To kill someone of Wu Li's caliber with a single sword strike—regardless of whether spiritual power had been employed or not—demonstrated a chasm of ability between the sides that couldn't be crossed through numbers or determination.

Every surviving attacker held absolutely still, not daring to make the slightest sound that might draw that terrible attention.

Xie Changji turned smoothly, sword still in hand, and pursued after Hua Xiangwan with unhurried confidence.

Hua Xiangwan supported Wen Shaoqing, who was grievously injured. He was almost entirely leaning his weight on her smaller frame, staggering with each step as she tried to move them both to safety.

"Awan..." Wen Shaoqing gasped out, his voice weak with shock and blood loss. "You... how could you..."

"Don't speak yet." Hua Xiangwan cut him off efficiently, producing a healing pill and pushing it past his lips. "Let's get somewhere safe first, then we can talk."

Wen Shaoqing swallowed the medicine without further protest. Leaning heavily against Hua Xiangwan, he felt the wind and snow battering them from all sides, and the person supporting him became the only source of warmth in a world of cold.

This realization made him feel inexplicably emotional, even melancholy. He spoke softly, his words nearly lost in the wind. "Awan, it's good that you came. I knew you wouldn't abandon me."

"Let me help you." Xie Changji's voice emerged from behind them, cutting through the intimacy of the moment.

Wen Shaoqing instantly registered that someone else was present. He turned his head immediately, emotions flashing across his face—surprise warring with anger. "You!"

Before he could complete whatever accusation or protest he'd been forming, Xie Changji simply pulled him away from Hua Xiangwan, took his considerable weight onto his own shoulders, and looked up to ask with perfect, clinical calm, "Can you walk on your own power?"

He asked the question without a hint of mockery or sarcasm in his tone, but Wen Shaoqing inexplicably felt threatened by the very neutrality of it.

The two men remained locked in silent confrontation for a prolonged moment before Wen Shaoqing finally gritted his teeth and forced out an answer. "I can walk."

"Walk, then." Xie Changji supported him efficiently, then glanced toward Hua Xiangwan, who stood holding the heavy zither in her smaller hands. "Wanwan, come here. I'll warm you with my spiritual energy."

The reminder made Hua Xiangwan suddenly aware of how cold she'd become. She quickly moved closer, and Xie Changji reached out—roughly grabbing the zither's strings without any care for the instrument—lifted the precious object, and handed it directly to Wen Shaoqing. "Young Master Wen, she's prone to feeling cold easily. It might be inconvenient for her to carry your zither while we travel."

Wen Shaoqing physically flinched at the cavalier way Xie Changji handled his beloved instrument, gritting his teeth against both physical pain and outrage. He wanted to voice sharp protest, but then he saw Hua Xiangwan breathing warm air onto her reddened hands, trying to restore feeling to her fingers.

He swallowed his complaints and took the zither from Xie Changji without further argument.

Xie Changji freed his hands and immediately grasped Hua Xiangwan's cold fingers in his own. Then he supported one person and pulled the other, effectively separating the two of them, placing his own body as a barrier between them.

Wen Shaoqing turned to look at Hua Xiangwan and Xie Changji walking together, and details he'd been too injured to process earlier suddenly registered with painful clarity. Their clothing was disheveled, clearly having been donned hastily. They'd obviously just dressed and rushed out to investigate the disturbance.

A fierce, dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. He couldn't help but clutch the zither even tighter against his chest, as if the instrument could somehow anchor him against rising emotion.

"Ah Wan," he forced himself to smile, though the expression carried disbelief and something darker. "This time, you're traveling with Xie Daojun alone? Just the two of you?"

"Yes." Hua Xiangwan answered without hesitation, seeing no reason to dissemble.

Wen Shaoqing's grip on his instrument tightened until his knuckles showed white against the wood.

Just the two of them. Both disheveled. Late at night. Having clearly been sleeping together before being disturbed.

He stared at Hua Xiangwan with intensity that bordered on desperate, forcibly suppressing the violent emotions churning in his chest.

When Wen Shaoqing remained silent for a prolonged moment, Hua Xiangwan leaned around Xie Changji to look at him, curiosity coloring her voice. "What happened to you? Why did Wu Li decide to kill you?"

Wu Li served as the Right Envoy of the Wugu Sect, which maintained loyalty to Mingluan Palace. They shouldn't have had any motivation to attack Wen Shaoqing.

"He's gone mad," Wen Shaoqing said, turning back to face forward, his voice emerging cold and clipped.

After delivering this terse explanation, he pressed his lips together. Then, seemingly unable to help himself—unsure of his own motivations—he found himself adding more detail. "He was originally sent by Yunyi to protect me along with Minghuo. But after we entered Goddess Mountain, our subordinates started experiencing problems one after another. People began acting strangely, turning on each other. In the end, Minghuo disappeared without a trace—just vanished completely—and Wu Li also betrayed us. He wanted to kill me to seize the Dragon-Seeking Compass and find the Blood Token himself, claim all the glory and rewards."

"There seems to be something here that bewitches the mind?" Hua Xiangwan asked, her analytical mind already working on the puzzle.

Wen Shaoqing, as a music cultivator, possessed heightened sensitivity to such subtle influences. He nodded confirmation. "That's correct. Did you hear singing?"

Hearing this question, Hua Xiangwan thought back carefully to her time in the cave. She had indeed vaguely heard what might have been singing, but when she'd concentrated to listen more carefully, she couldn't detect anything concrete. She'd dismissed it as imagination born from exhaustion.

"No," Xie Changji stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

Wen Shaoqing sneered with barely concealed disdain. "Of course a sword cultivator like you can't hear it. This song disturbs the mind and inflames base desires, but its frequency isn't within the normal range of human hearing. Its effect on people operates like slow poison—silent, imperceptible, gradually eroding judgment and control. Only high-level magic cultivators and sound cultivators like myself can sense its presence through enhanced 'perception' rather than ordinary hearing."

"You mean that even if someone can't consciously hear it, the song still affects them?" Hua Xiangwan summarized the implication.

Wen Shaoqing nodded affirmation, and Hua Xiangwan considered this for a moment before asking the critical question. "Then... what's the primary effect? What does it make people do?"

Upon hearing this inquiry, Wen Shaoqing paused mid-step. After a moment's hesitation, he turned his head, his expression carrying something like disgust—though whether directed at the song's nature or his own susceptibility remained unclear. "It promotes lust and encourages greed. Amplifies base desires."

Hua Xiangwan nodded with new understanding, finally comprehending the source of Xie Changji's uncharacteristic behavior earlier in the evening.

At this moment, the three travelers arrived back at the cave shelter. Wen Shaoqing entered and immediately swept his gaze across the interior, taking in the furnishings and arrangement.

At first glance, Wen Shaoqing froze completely, his body going rigid.

The cave's interior looked distinctly messy, clearly recently occupied. On the warm jade bed, the quilt lay scattered and disheveled in ways that spoke of hasty abandonment. Xie Changji's inner robe and jade pendant still rested beside the bed, unworn and discarded. Hua Xiangwan's socks, her embroidered sachet, and her hairpin were scattered across the floor in telling disarray.

Wen Shaoqing stared at the messy bed with an intensity that bordered on violence.

Hua Xiangwan, noticing him frozen in place, felt initially bewildered by his reaction. But then, following his horrified gaze to the scene, she instantly understood what conclusions he was drawing. Embarrassment flooded through her, and she quickly stepped forward to begin tidying, offering hurried explanation. "I'm sorry, I left in a rush to help you. Everything's a bit messy."

Hearing this particular explanation—the casual admission that she'd been comfortable enough here to leave things scattered, that she'd rushed out specifically to help him—Wen Shaoqing's breathing became even more labored and rapid.

He couldn't prevent his hands from clenching into fists, his entire body beginning to tremble with barely suppressed emotion.

"You and him..." Wen Shaoqing's voice emerged strained, each word seeming to cost him something. "...slept in the same bed?"

Hua Xiangwan's tidying movements froze mid-motion. She felt a sudden, instinctive urge to explain, to clarify the situation. But then reason reasserted itself—she shouldn't need to explain or justify her choices to Wen Shaoqing. What right did he have to demand accounting of her actions?

Seeing her hesitation, seeing her refusal to immediately deny his accusation, Wen Shaoqing finally lost what remained of his fragile control. He practically shouted, his voice cracking with emotional intensity, "How could you do this to me?!"

As desperate words tumbled from his lips, his breathing grew increasingly ragged. "Hua Xiangwan... Hua Xiangwan... you..."

Before he could complete whatever accusation or plea he'd been forming, he suddenly vomited a mouthful of blood—his injuries and emotional distress combining catastrophically.

Hua Xiangwan immediately abandoned her tidying, hurrying to help lower him gently to the ground. She called over her shoulder with urgent concern, "Come quickly and channel some spiritual energy to stabilize him. I'll get medicine."

As she spoke, she moved toward her supplies, but Wen Shaoqing's hand shot out with surprising strength, capturing her wrist. His eyes filled with desperate pleading that made him look years younger, almost childlike in his need.

"Stay with me, don't be like this… Ah Wan, stay by my side… don't do it in front of me…"

"I'll stay with you," Hua Xiangwan found herself responding, her tone shifting to something soothing as she tried to calm his agitation. "Don't get yourself worked up. It will make your injuries worse. Take your medicine first. I didn't sleep with him—not the way you're thinking. So please, just take your medicine first."

Hearing this crucial clarification, Wen Shaoqing's anguished expression softened marginally. He nestled himself in Hua Xiangwan's arms like a wounded child seeking comfort, and his eyes slowly drifted closed.

"Don't leave me…" He held Hua Xiangwan's hand with desperate strength, his voice fading to barely audible murmur. "Don't go…"

Then consciousness fled entirely, his body going limp.

Hua Xiangwan quickly attempted to extract her captured hand, but his grip remained ironclad even in unconsciousness. She could only turn to Xie Changji for assistance. "Can you get my medicine? I can't reach it while he's holding on like this."

Upon hearing this request, Xie Changji stepped forward with outward calm.

However, he didn't immediately move toward the medicine stores. Instead, in front of Hua Xiangwan's watching eyes, he placed his own hand deliberately on Wen Shaoqing's fingers where they gripped her wrist.

Such a filthy thing shouldn't be permitted to touch her.

The intrusive thought flashed through his mind with violent clarity. It should be crushed methodically, one finger at a time. Each digit broken and separated, then the entire hand removed and thrown outside onto the snow to feed the wolves prowling in the darkness.

The murderous impulse surfaced with startling intensity.

"Xie Changji?" Hua Xiangwan's confused voice penetrated the violent fantasy.

She'd noticed his hand moving in the wrong direction entirely, clearly not reaching for medicine.

Xie Changji paused, frozen between impulse and restraint.

The image of the small flower Hua Xiangwan had given him flashed through his mind—that delicate white blossom tucked carefully against his chest. Her words echoed: upright and honest, like jade and orchid.

He drew a measured breath, forcing himself back from the edge. Then he lowered his eyes, his expression smoothing into careful neutrality as he gently but firmly pried Wen Shaoqing's fingers open one by one.

Finding the grip too stubborn to easily break, he reached into Hua Xiangwan's storage pouch, located the appropriate medicine, and carefully fed it to the unconscious man.

After administering the treatment, Wen Shaoqing's breathing gradually stabilized, becoming deeper and more regular.

Hua Xiangwan breathed a sigh of profound relief. She looked up at Xie Changji still kneeling beside her and offered a weary but genuine smile. "You're tired too. Go get some sleep."

Xie Changji nodded acknowledgment but didn't move from his position.

Hua Xiangwan asked with growing confusion, "What's wrong?"

"You're cold." The observation emerged flat, matter-of-fact.

"It's alright," Hua Xiangwan smiled at his continued concern, genuinely touched by his care. "There's a fire burning. He'll keep me warm enough just with body heat. I'll be fine staying up through the night to watch him."

"He's like a child," Xie Changji commented, his tone unreadable.

Hua Xiangwan nodded immediate agreement. "He's always been childlike in many ways. But I've taken care of him for many years across different lifetimes." She looked down at the person cradled in her arms, and something soft—almost maternal—entered her expression. "I've gotten quite used to it."

Xie Changji remained absolutely silent.

The easy intimacy in her words, the casual way she spoke of their long history, the gentleness in her eyes as she regarded Wen Shaoqing—it all felt like an insurmountable chasm opening between them.

A distance he could never cross, no matter his cultivation level or sword mastery.

Wen Shaoqing is right, he realized with bitter clarity. Two hundred years is a very long time indeed.

Thoughts:

It explores the deepening complexity of the relationship triangle between Hua Xiangwan, Xie Changji, and Wen Shaoqing against the backdrop of their dangerous mission on Goddess Mountain. It begins with Xie Changji's subtle jealousy over Yun Qingxu, revealing his possessive nature born from a lifetime of solitude rather than romantic love. Hua Xiangwan's gift of a simple flower becomes a treasured symbol of the person Xie Changji aspires to be—upright, jade-like, orchid-like. As they navigate the mountain's treacherous barrier and discover a pocket dimension with mind-affecting properties, the song that "promotes lust and encourages greed" nearly causes them to cross physical boundaries. Their intimate moment is interrupted by the sounds of combat, leading to the rescue of Wen Shaoqing from betrayal and assassination. 

The emotional climax occurs when Wen Shaoqing discovers evidence suggesting Hua Xiangwan and Xie Changji have been sharing intimate quarters, triggering his emotional breakdown. Xie Changji's internal struggle between his violent impulses and his desire to be the honorable person Hua Xiangwan admires creates powerful tension. It ends with the painful recognition that Hua Xiangwan's two-hundred-year history with Wen Shaoqing represents a bond Xie Changji may never overcome, despite his growing feelings and her obvious care for him.