Murong Qiufeng frowned even deeper upon hearing this. “He’s not coming back. Did something happen?”
“I don’t know. His Highness only said for you to rest early. Don’t wait any longer.” Youxiang shook her head innocently. Then, as usual, she entered Murong Qiufeng’s room, lit the calming incense, tidied up, and promptly left.
Murong Qiufeng asked no further questions. Only a mix of worry and regret lingered in his heart. He stood at the doorway for a long while longer before sighing and returning inside. Much later still, the lamp in his room finally went out. The surrounding silence remained unbroken.
Midnight. The moon hung high in the sky. Outside, the night watchman began striking the hour. All sounds ceased.
Murong Qiufeng slept deeply. Perhaps the calming incense truly worked. He didn’t even have the chance to dream.
A dagger glinting with silver light slipped through the door crack. It carefully pried open the latch, then gently pushed the door ajar. A dark figure moved cautiously toward the bedside. Head bowed, it watched the sleeping figure. Seeming to remain vigilant, the figure reached out to seal several acupoints. Then, cradling the person along with the quilt, they carried him away.
Murong Qiufeng began to dream. And it was a very strange dream. In the dream, he seemed to return to his childhood. Especially to the moment of his birth. He was still in the cradle. His mother sat beside him, gently rocking it. Occasionally humming a lullaby. It felt like returning to his mother’s womb. So warm. The water was gentle, making him feel safe and cozy.
He was reluctant to leave this dream, not wanting to wake up at all. But eventually, he had to.
He didn’t know how long he’d slept. His cheek felt itchy, as if something rough was sliding across it. It felt coarse, like hemp rope.
He jolted awake, eyes snapping open in alertness. But to his shock, his eyes were bound. His body was pinned down, acupoints sealed. A strange, eerie chuckle suddenly rang in his ears—old and sinister. His reaction seemed to amuse whoever was nearby.
Murong Qiufeng froze for a moment, then slowly regained his composure. Realizing he could still speak, he lowered his voice slightly, trying to sound as composed as possible. “What might be your business, sir?”
“Heh heh. Not bad, kid. You keep your cool. Though your breathing could be a bit more natural.” A hoarse, old woman’s voice echoed, tinged with disdain.
Murong Qiufeng’s mind raced, searching for clues, but found nothing. He remained silent, lips pressed together, listening intently for any sounds around him, hoping to pick up a hint.
The old woman’s voice sounded again, tinged with impatience. “Hey, kid. Why aren’t you talking?”
“What does the elder wish the junior to say?” Murong Qiufeng sensed the old woman’s formidable martial prowess. Yet his greater concern now was her motive for capturing him—was she threatening Ye or his senior disciple?
The old woman asked in puzzlement, “Don’t you ask why I brought you here? Are you not curious or worried?”
Murong Qiufeng pressed his lips together and offered a faint smile. “Why ask? If the elder wishes to speak, she will. If she does not, what good would my questions do?”
The old woman seemed taken aback by his words. Yet instead of anger, she let out a hollow, eerie chuckle. Her voice was eerie and chilling, yet it no longer carried the oppressive coldness of before. “Heh heh. You little brat. You look so sweet and innocent, yet your tongue is sharp enough to cut. Are you truly unafraid, or just putting on a brave face? Suddenly, I’m rather curious to see you panic and beg for mercy. With skin this delicate and tender, if sold to a brothel, how much would you fetch?”
Mou Rong Qiufeng listened, feeling something coarse brush across her face. Her brow furrowed deeper, goosebumps rising on her skin. Yet she stubbornly pressed her lips together, refusing to respond.
The old woman continued, “Hmm. That doesn’t add up. You say trading you for Shangguan Ye would get us something valuable? Money? Or power? Though I’d rather have my life back, I wonder if you’re worth that much.”
“Hmm. Probably not. I hear Shangguan Ye is cold-blooded and ruthless. But distracting him a little should be possible. Heh heh heh~ Little one, wanna watch the show later?”
Murong Qiufeng’s face instantly drained of color. Unable to contain herself, she blurted out, panic etched across her features. After all, she was still too inexperienced. “What exactly do you intend to do?”
“Hehehe. Finally getting anxious. Such impatience. Heh heh. What do I intend to do? Tell me. If you had to choose between everyone in the Prime Minister’s residence and Shangguan Ye, which would you pick?”
Murong Qiufeng’s expression darkened further. She frantically gathered energy from her dantian, attempting to forcefully break through the acupoints.
“Oh my. Never expected such a fiery temper from you, little one. These acupoints aren’t something your meager cultivation can break. Don’t court death.”
Suddenly, another set of footsteps echoed in the room. Someone seemed to have entered, approaching him. The rough touch vanished, and silence settled over the chamber.
Yet he could distinctly sense the two figures still beside him, though he had no idea what they were doing.
After a long moment, the old woman sighed as if conceding defeat, chuckling wryly. “Very well, very well. Never imagined you’d come to this, boy. Truth be told, I rather took a liking to this youngster. But you’ve gone and spoiled him rotten. Barely a scratch, and already he’s feeling sorry for himself.”
Simultaneously, the pressure points on Murong Qiufeng, who had been rushing forward, were released. He grunted softly, then immediately sat up. His hand shot out to tear off the satin blindfold covering his eyes.
His eyes opened, still hazy. But when he blurrily made out the two figures beside him, he froze. Or rather, one of them. “Ye.”
Shangguan Ye smiled at him, walked over, sat on the bedside, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Seeing no signs of injury, she exhaled in relief before her tone turned slightly reproachful. “Why were you so impulsive? Thankfully, you weren’t hurt this time.”
Murong Qiufeng was a bit dazed. “You… What’s going on? And who is this?” He looked up at the so-called ‘old woman’ who appeared to be only in her thirties or forties.
Shangguan Ye watched his dazed and confused expression, unable to resist pinching his cheek. He wrapped an arm around him and laughed. “Let me introduce you. This is my master, the Snow Demon Revered One.”
Murong Qiufeng’s eyes widened instantly. “Your… master?” He stared at Shangguan Ye in shock, then shifted his gaze to the woman who appeared kind and gentle. This was the legendary Snow Demon Sage, one of the Five Great Reverends of the martial arts world, said to be over a hundred years old. Could it be that there truly existed techniques or elixirs for eternal youth in this world?
“Heh heh. Little one, what’s that look on your face?” The Snow Demon Sage spoke with an air of authority that commanded respect without anger, her voice no longer sounding aged.
Murong Qiufeng’s expression straightened, but before he could say anything, two voices chimed in one after the other.
“Master.”
“Old woman, stop bullying this little guy. Save yourself the trouble of your precious disciple turning on you later.”
With that, another figure entered—an elderly man clad entirely in snow-white robes, his face youthful yet crowned with snow-white hair. He entered with a broad smile.
Murong Qiufeng froze upon seeing this old man. Wasn’t this…
