Chapter 13: Under Moonlight, Something Breaks

 

As dusk settled, the mood shifted.

The female Spirit Masters, who had been lively just hours ago, now sat unusually quiet. The earlier excitement had thinned into something dull and restless.

Senior Sister Duan sighed, her face clouded. “Why did it have to be a sword cultivator sent to hunt evil spirits?”

Her gaze drifted outside, lingering briefly before she turned back with curiosity. “Junior Sister Zhan, what kind of cultivator do you prefer?”

There were seven recognized paths in the Spirit Realm—sword, saber, alchemy, talisman, array, medical, and weapon cultivators.

Every year, Zhi Qiu Pavilion conducted a survey.

And every year, the answer was the same.

Sword cultivators.

More than seventy percent of Spirit Masters chose them as their ideal Dao partners. This year, it had climbed even higher—eighty percent.

Zhan Yunwei shook her head. “I haven’t thought about it.”

“You’re still young,” Senior Sister Duan laughed. Then, leaning closer, she added, “But whatever you do, don’t like sword cultivators—or weapon refiners.”

Zhan Yunwei blinked. “Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Sword cultivators are handsome. Sword immortals are elegant, loyal… and their robes are the most pleasing to look at.”

Zhan Yunwei thought of the flowing garments she had seen and nodded unconsciously.

Not far away, Yue Zhiheng lifted his gaze toward her.

Encouraged, Senior Sister Duan continued, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “Weapon refiners, on the other hand… rough. Their work is heavy, their bodies even heavier. Have you seen that senior brother outside? His arms are almost as thick as your waist.”

Zhan Yunwei instinctively looked down.

Yue Zhiheng followed her movement with a glance—then said nothing.

“And weapon refiners are worse,” Senior Sister Duan went on. “Always stuck by the furnace. Alchemists can finish pills in a few days, but refiners? Half a month at least. Sometimes longer. If you marry one, you’ll spend your life staring at his back while he stares at fire.”

She covered her mouth, remembering something. “And their strength! Last time one grabbed me—I almost lost my arm. I’m a Spirit Master, not a piece of iron to be hammered!”

Zhan Yunwei fell quiet, thinking.

Beside them, Yue Zhiheng leaned against the carriage wall, his expression unreadable. He had already stopped listening.

His eyes rested on the darkening sky.

To the girls, it was just another calm spring evening.

To him—

It was a net tightening.

The mirage woven by vengeful spirits pulsed with life as night approached. This illusion would grow most dangerous after sunset. If Zhan Yunwei’s formation could last until dawn, it would collapse on its own.

Which meant—

They would strike tonight.

A cheer suddenly broke the stillness.

“The sword cultivator senior brothers are back!”

The carriage stirred with excitement.

Even Senior Sister Duan hesitated, sighing softly. “Sword cultivators… they avoid trouble. It’s a virtue—but also a flaw.”

Zhan Yunwei smiled faintly.

In their eyes, Spirit Masters were delicate burdens.

Polite greetings? Unlikely.

Instead of watching the commotion, she turned slightly toward Aheng. “Where are we staying tonight?”

Both of them clearly needed a bath.

After a brief discussion, the eldest disciple decided, “Lord Qiyang is still investigating the evil energy. We’ll stay at the city lord’s residence.”

“Who will inform them?” someone asked.

The eldest disciple’s eyes flicked to a figure nearby. “Why not you, Junior Brother Pei?”

Pei Yujing didn’t even look up. “No. I’m busy.”

The eldest disciple laughed.

Handsome. Talented. Cold.

And completely hopeless with women.

Two years ago, he had nearly drawn his sword on visiting Spirit Masters after being overwhelmed by their enthusiasm.

Even his master had sighed helplessly: “You cultivate the Heartless Sword—but you don’t have to act so heartless.”

Still, there was no denying it—

The colder he seemed, the more popular he became.

“Junior Brother Xue Chao, you go instead.”

Xue Chao nearly lit up. “Yes!”

His fellow disciples teased him. “Interested in someone?”

He didn’t deny it. “My father once met the Lord of Changya Mountain. He said his daughter is the most outstanding girl he’s ever seen. If I perform well… maybe I’ll have a chance.”

That caught everyone’s attention.

Even—

Pei Yujing.

His hand paused.

Then he looked up.

“Senior brother,” he said suddenly, “I’m done wiping.”

---

By the time dusk deepened over Qiyang City, excitement had returned.

Because this time—

Pei Yujing came too.

Senior Sister Duan clutched Zhan Yunwei’s hand, nearly trembling. “What should I say to him? Ask about swordsmanship? Would that be too much?”

More than too much.

It would be absurd.

Zhan Yunwei thought it, but didn’t say it.

Instead, she looked out.

Under the pale moonlight, the young man stood calmly, answering questions with quiet courtesy.

Then—

As if sensing her gaze—

He looked up.

Their eyes met.

She was still young then. Soft-faced, bright-eyed, untouched by time.

Not yet breathtaking.

But… impossible to ignore.

Something flickered in Pei Yujing’s eyes.

A faint smile.

He said something to his companions—and walked toward her.

Straightforward. Open.

Like all sword cultivators.

The air shifted. Curious gazes followed him.

Zhan Yunwei felt heat rise to her cheeks without understanding why.

Then he stopped in front of her.

“Junior Sister Zhan,” he said, glancing aside briefly, “I have something for you.”

“What is it?”

He handed her a small package, eyes warm with quiet amusement. “A gift to thank Junior Sister for saving my life.”

Her face burned.

Refusing would only embarrass him.

So she accepted.

He didn’t stay long.

When he left, the warmth lingered.

In her hands—

A soft, fragrant bundle.

Chestnut cakes.

Still warm.

She remembered, faintly, mentioning it once in passing. Half-asleep. Careless.

Yet—

He remembered.

A small, unexpected warmth stirred in her chest.

She picked one up—

Then paused.

Someone was watching.

Zhan Yunwei turned.

Aheng.

Silent. Still. Eyes dark as ink.

“You want some too?” she asked.

“No.”

The answer came cold.

He lowered his gaze, gripping his wrist.

The lotus seal beneath his sleeve pulsed faintly.

The mirage never lied.

This—

Had already happened.

---

They reached the city lord’s residence before night fully fell.

The man greeted them warmly, his smile wide and welcoming.

But the moment Zhan Yunwei stepped inside—

She froze.

The spiritual energy here…

Was overwhelming.

Dozens of times denser than outside.

“Perceptive,” the city lord praised when questioned. “There’s a spirit-gathering array in the back mountain.”

Curiosity spread.

Even the best arrays couldn’t produce such an effect.

The city lord chuckled. “That’s because there’s something… special inside.”

Something.

Not someone.

“Come see.”

They followed.

Lamps flickered. Moonlight spilled like water.

Then—

They saw it.

Zhan Yunwei’s breath caught.

It wasn’t… human.

Or perhaps—

It had once been.

A head that still resembled a man.

The rest—

A grotesque patchwork. Fish tail. Beast horns. Wings. Fangs. A swollen body twisted into something unnatural.

Pinned beneath a crushing seal.

Barely breathing.

Eyes unfocused.

Alive—

But only just.

A young Spirit Master recoiled. “What… is that?”

The city lord smiled faintly.

“Have you heard of the Children of Evil?”

Silence fell.

Cold.

Heavy.

Because suddenly—

Everything felt wrong.