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Chapter Text

Prologue 

     "Terrible news! The chief cultivator has suffered a Qi deviation!

     The noise of the streets was deafening, the faces of the inhabitants of the Qinghe region were dark in the morning light, almost lustful, while they licked their whiskers like cats about to hunt their prey, the sound of their voices it echoed in the distance, bellowing to the four winds. Immediately, regardless of whether he was a distinguished cultivator or a humble farmer, everyone was talking about the news that, as if carrying wings, swept across the entire cultivation world in one day. 

    "A deviation of Qi? How could the head cultivator suffer from Qi deviation?!" 

    "It's what the Nie sect announced earlier in the day!" 

    “But how is it that of all the cultivators in the world, Sect Leader Nie, famous for never cultivating with his clan's technique, now suffers from Qi diversion? How did he end up this way? 

    "Nobody knows! In the same way that no one knows how someone like deny it all ended up taking over his excellency, chief cultivator from him."

    “Isn't it for the same reason that Jin Guangyao's son of a bitch ended up being a ferocious corpse, fighting even in death to atone for his sins towards the Nie Sect? The head cultivator is tyrannical and cunning, there is no doubt that with such merit, only he could take over for his excellence!"

    “Even if your excellency's cultivation is weak, this shows that even for someone as distinguished and promising as the chief cultivator, no cultivator is exempt from a death like this!"

    On the first day, the news went through all the cultivation sects from top to bottom and just like for these simple peasants, this causes a stir and reluctance. 

    On the second day, Sect Leader Lan made a trip in the direction of Qinghe Nie, being a master in the art of healing, it was expected that it would only be a matter of days before the head cultivator would once again resume his duties.

   On the third day, it was announced that indeed His Excellency was indisposed and would not be able to resume his duties for an indefinitely long period.

   On the fourth day, while the skies were clear and the waters calm, the position of sect leader was filled, in a hasty ceremony, by his excellency's former right-hand man, Nie Zonghui. 

    On the fifth day, the news that once flashed across the cultivation world in brilliant lightning, today was forgotten dust. 

Chapter Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 ; mdzs
chapter one. lucid dreaming. 

 "Young Master, Young Master!"

    At the exact moment he opened his eyes, he heard the distant sound of a frantic voice booming close to his ear. As he lay on his back on a comfortable surface and the world lurched behind his lashes, he felt a presence hovering over him like a frenzied hawk.

    "Young master?" 

    Nie Huaisang blinked slowly trying to control his cloudy vision, barely fighting the intense urge to empty his stomach. The hoarse and still distant voice echoed in his ears. With a shaky breath, he turned his head in the direction of the sound so that within his line of vision appeared the silhouette of a young man, clad in simple robes and an expression of extreme concern.

     "Young master? How are you doing?" He asked himself quietly. 

     Said young man directed his enlightened gaze towards the ceiling, greedily drinking in the appearance of the interior of the room. The tall wooden beams above his head, the lingering scent of incense and the hand-painted fans leaning against the surface of the wall, the still-wet fragrance of ink filling his senses. 

     "Mirror." He commanded with a low, husky voice as a blank expression formed. Cold sweat ran down her temples like crystalline waterfalls, drenching his face and traveling to his collarbones, which peeked out from under his underrobe, pale as polished jade. 

   A bronze mirror was delicately placed on his outstretched palms, so without hesitating twice, he turned his restless gaze towards the reflection.  

     This youth's skin was white, with youthful and graceful features like a beautiful piece of polished jade. His eyes, like two young apricots, were brimming with innocent intent, giving an accessible impression of a young fawn. His thin brows quirked in an expression of utter terror as inky dark locks framed his pale, sweaty face. 

    Unexpectedly, the bronze mirror slipped from his hands and hit the ground with a crash. 

    "Young Master!" Like a noise submerged in water, the echo of his voice echoed in his ears, yet he heard nothing more than the sound of his own heavy breathing. 

    "What day is today?" he asked himself, trembling from head to toe like a newborn milk kitten, his voice ringing out like a bright, stern bolt of lightning. "What day is it today, what year?!"

    The young man bowed deeply in fear before answering. "Responding to the young master, this is the seventh day of the third month of the eighteenth year of Xuanzheng"

   Nie Huaisang recalled with a longing expression, on the seventh day of the third month of Xuanzheng, the young heir masters of the prominent clans were invited to attend lectures given by grandmaster Lan Qiren of the Gusu Lan clan. Naturally, as he was the heir to the Nie clan, he was invited just like the others, no matter if this was his third consecutive year of attendance due to his poor performance.

     In the past, Nie Huaisang was pressured by his older brother to attend the lectures again no matter the loss of face he would experience upon returning for the third time.

      Like a bright flash, Nie Mingjue's face covered in a crimson streak flashed through his mind, the sensation of the limp and cold body in her arms resounding in her mind with such force that her vision darkened. 

      Da-ge. 

      "Where's my da-ge?!" His voice thundered into the silence, disturbing the young servant, who leaned shakily in the direction of his young master. 

      Nie Huaisang threw the quilt over his body away from himself. 

     Unsteadily, he clung to the servant's body with both hands, twisting the simple robe until his knuckles were as pale as his complexion. 

      "Tell me at once!"

     “Young Master, the sect leader…!” 

     With a crash, the doors of Second Master Nie's private pavilion were flung open, and three familiar figures rushed in. 

      Nie Huaisang's eyes widened. 

     His lips trembled as he met the gaze of the man who was walking straight towards him. 

      This man, as tall as a tree well grown to maturity, was surrounded by an imposing and stern aura. His formidable and experienced body gave the impression of a martial deity; he was exceptionally handsome, but in his features there was an expression of severity and impatience, his face, though clear and elegant, was inaccessible, for in his gaze there was a hint of oppression. 

      Atop her head was a sect leader's crown, firmly tied into a ponytail of dark locks. On the sides of his face, two streaks of ink framed his fierce expression, this person was none other than his older brother, Nie Mingjue.

    Nie Mingjue yelled in anger: “Nie Huaisang! Do you think you can escape your saber training once more?!”

    Unexpectedly, Nie Huaisang took a step forward and his body fell to its knees on the ground with a thunderous sound. His arm stretched out in the direction of the sect leader desperately wanting to reach him. 

    His slender, fine-boned fingers twisted as if reaching for him with such longing that it spilled out of him in waves. His handsome, youthful face was twisted into an expression of anguish. 

     Gradually the rims of his eyes reddened until crystalline drops hung from his long lashes, dripping onto her pale cheeks in quick succession. 

     "Huaisang!" For a long moment, Nie Mingjue stared in a daze at the devastated expression of his younger brother in a stunned state.     

     "Young Master, young master!" The servant tried to help the young man up, but he backed away from him as if the mere touch caused his utter terror. 

    His complexion suddenly turned icy as his slender body shook with successive tremors. Staring at the ground, Nie Huaisang sobbed softly. 

    At this reaction, Nie Mingjue turned his gaze towards the servant with a sudden flash of anger, his dark eyes turning into two icy pits. His fingers caressed the hilt of his saber with such murderous intent that he had no choice but to kneel deeply to beg for his life without fully understanding the reason. 

    "Sect Leader, I did nothing, I swear! Young Master collapsed in the courtyard and I just brought him to the pavilion, my lord!"

    Before the sect leader could even judge the veracity of his statements, a supple and warm body lunged at him with such force that he was forced to take a step back. 

     At his older brother's feet, Nie Huaisang knelt painlessly, hiding his face drenched in hot tears in the sect leader's robes as his slender body shook in desperate wailing. 

    "What do you think you're doing, Nie Huaisang?!"

     Over and over again, Nie Huaisang vigorously verified that this was his older brother, holding onto his thigh so tightly that even fate itself could not take him away from him. 

     In a state of disbelief, he clung to Nie Mingjue's warmth, frantically checking his temperature. 

     It was the body temperature of a living person. 

     "Huaisang?" Calmly, Nie Mingjue called out to him in a soft voice, resting her calloused palm on her younger brother's hair. 

    At the unusual behavior of the younger Nie, everyone in the room fell silent in a state of confusion. 

     "Ge..." He called, this syllable that came out of his mouth sounding obedient and stunned. 

    Those five fingers that kept calm on Nie Huaisang's dark hair suddenly suffered a small imperceptible shudder. 

Chapter Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 ; mdzs
chapter two. lucid dreaming. pt. II. 

     "Ge, ge." He repeated over and over again, absorbed in the emotion of the reunion, that he did not notice the stunned appearance of the people around him, who were contemplating the attitude of his young master with astonishment written on his features.

    Nie Huaisang's voice was hoarse and not very strong, but it sounded shattered.

    As if he had pronounced these syllables for a long time and no one had responded to his desperate call. 

   With his head bowed into his older brother's lap, encircling both arms in an uneasy embrace, the body that was holding rigid seemed immobile, Nie Huaisang refusing to let go no matter what.

     Once he let it go without clinging to it and then he was left wandering alone in the world.

    In the future to come, Nie Huaisang lived his life planning revenge in order to calm his murderous urge and finally find peace, not knowing that peace would never be found outside of the arms that cradled him in his youth and were now destined for him. to perish slowly inside a coffin in the state of a ferocious corpse. 

    Without conscience or regrets, sunk in the strong resentment that blossomed after his death. 

    After this, a person was alone in the world, with the weight of loneliness on his shoulders. There was a person who lived through time and suffered waiting for someone while praying at night, under the moonlight in the distance.

     When can I see you again? 

    In this life, he would hold on even through the fire and roar of the coming war. 

     Nie Huaisang would not let go of his brother, fearing that by not holding on, they would both meet the same fate. 

     Nie Mingjue opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly chose to remain silent. His five fingers remained inert on the younger man's locks, unsure of how to proceed. 

     In that very instant, Nie Huaisang looked up. 

    The second young master's usually smiling and youthful appearance seemed to be marked by anguish, as if he could not suppress his emotions. 

    His eyes focused on his older brother's with insistence. 

    The long dark eyelashes trembled with each blink while translucent drops clung to them, revealing a pitiful expression, which prompted tender hearts to protect the suffering beauty between wailing and crying.

   Nie Mingjue was stunned for a long second before furiously yelling, What do you think you're doing, Huaisang?!

    "Da-ge, no!" He shook his head, refusing to let go of his brother, hiding himself in the fabrics of his robe. "Please don't disappear..."

    "Who is going to disappear but you, who refuses to train with your saber and runs away to your room?!" He roars nonchalantly, but the hand on his head is still gentle.

    Suddenly, through the chaos, a figure stepped forward. 

    "Sect Leader," A deep, handsome male voice reverberated unhurriedly. "It seems that the young master is indisposed today."

    Nie Huaisang looked up at the sound of this voice, gradually loosening the tight grip he had on his brother's thigh, consequently, that moment of weakness was immediately taken advantage of by Nie Mingjue, who pushed him away from himself. with a quick and precise movement, raising him on his feet.

    Unexpectedly, Nie Huaisang still chose to stubbornly cling to the flowing sleeves of his robe and refused to let go, pleading again with a nectar-sweet voice. "Ge..."

    Nie Mingjue seemed stunned by his little brother's constant sorrowful call and this time he didn't try to push him away from him, the line of his eyebrows was smooth and unified, like a tree branch. 

    Although he had prayed for his brother in an eerie manner, his gaze wandered to the source of the raspy voice that had intervened earlier. The corners of his eyes reddening rapidly as he met this person once more.

    Nie Yefeng returned his gaze calmly with a clear smile on his lips. 

     Possessing a serene and virtuous appearance, he was the third in the list of cultivator knights of the sect. Nie Yufeng was born with deep features and inky black eyebrows, the slightly dark complexion of him was overflowing with the beauty of youth. Unlike his sect leader, his body was not formidable but his figure and aura were imposing. 

    Nie Huaisang's lips trembled in response, recognizing this man's clear and bright light with ease among the most treasured memories of a time that would never return and now suddenly, he was face to face. 

    In the past, Nie Yufeng was Nie Mingjue's right-hand man as well as the main disciple of the Nie sect, with such loyalty to the sect that, in return for his teachings, he followed their leader's ideals until death. 

   So blindly loyal that even if he made his only son an orphan, he would still choose the same path. At his death, he was praised for his performance and fidelity to his sect while his son bitterly mourned his departure, which came without a proper farewell. 

    This son, who would grow tall and strong with a gallant and handsome appearance, would in a few years be called by the cultivation world as the  master of dual sabers. He would diligently serve the Nie Sect as the right hand of the sect leader and eventually his excellency, the chief cultivator.  

     Nie Yufeng was none other than Nie Zonghui's father. 

     Despite his status as Second Young Master, Nie Huaisang always familiarly addressed this man as Yu-ge, caring little about the difference between the two. After his older brother, there was no other person he fully trusted other than Nie Yufeng. 

    Subsequently, in a life filled with unparalleled revenge and resentment, it is only lying by Zonghui's side that he found even the slightest sense of peace. Through the storms and tribulations of his future, it is this man's son who kept his sanity. 

    "Young master?" The clear and deep sound of his voice shocked Nie Huaisang to the bone. 

    For twenty-three years, with the weight of his death on his shoulders, every three days he would light three sticks of incense in front of his memorial tablet installed inside the memorial pavilion while proudly narrating on the air the growth of Nie Zonghui. Upon completion, he would bow his head to the ground in a grateful curtsey and renew him vow to care for his child diligently. 

    Hearing the sound of his voice after a millennium of not doing so, he was deeply shocked, so he silently fought against the strong melancholy that overwhelmed him, shaking his heart from front to back. 

   Nie Huaisang's throat felt tight, so his voice came out shaky as he was finally able to work up the courage to use those two words again. "Yu-ge..." 

     Nie Yufeng turned his gaze towards him with a slight layer of worry in his bright ink eyes, shocked by the unusual behavior he had displayed from the moment he opened his eyes again. Suddenly, a soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she placed his palm on his head and left a respectful caress. 

    "What's wrong? Does the young master need to be persuaded?" 

    He asked, his voice low and soothing as the second young master's soft deer eyes flooded with crystalline tears once more, holding his brother's flowing sleeves with inordinate force. 

    "Mmh, just a nightmare, ge." He muttered hoarsely, holding on to both cultivators insistently. "A long and painful nightmare without end."

Chapter Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 ; mdzs
chapter three: the taste of longing.

    Nie Huaisang had finally calmed down his stormy heart's content, so he currently felt warm and pleased as he watched these two prestigious cultivators with a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The faint traces of tears had been silently wiped away by his da-ge, who calmly pretended not to have done so. 

    Going back twenty-three years in the past only made each moment more precious than the last, so he was willing to enjoy each and every one of them. 

    It felt like a rebirth. 

    A new opportunity to challenge the skies. 

    "Da-ge, Yu-ge." Nie Huaisang said as he drew the attention of both men. "Let's eat a banquet together today."

    “Nie Huaisang, do you have time to plan a banquet and not practice your saber?!” 

    "Da-ge, no!" 

    Nie Huaisang didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so after thinking about it for a while, he said with conviction, “Just this once, da-ge, let's all eat together.”

    He received an incredulous look from his older brother, who naturally did not understand the drastic change in the second young master's demeanor. Not knowing that, for this it was a special occasion to be reunited with Nie Yufeng and him. 

    Nie Yufeng also smiled and said, “Sect Leader, I don't see why you shouldn't accept young master's proposal.”

     "Da-ge, da-ge, Yu-ge agrees!"

    "That's because Yufeng spoils you too much, you little rascal!"    

    Nie Huaisang's pink lips curled into a tiny pout. Of course he wouldn't deny that, because he was aware that yes, he was terribly spoiled. Not only because of Nie Yufeng but also Nie Mingjue himself, who spared no effort in his protection and safety as well as the young master's whims, so he never felt dissatisfied with Nie Mingjue's treatment of him. he.  

    Recalling his childhood, in which he clung to his brother trustingly calling him gege and never allowing himself to abandon him just like a few minutes ago, Nie Huaisang's polished jade face was dyed a timid pink. 

    "Da-ge, you usually eat your meals in your quarters, are you going to reject my proposal to eat together?" He spoke calmly, but deep down her heart was anxious. "Are you so cruel to your didi?"

    Nie Yufeng controlled a laugh that threatened to break out at his cheeky statement. 

   Nie Mingjue nearly spit out a mouthful of blood upon hearing his brother, so he didn't hold back from yelling, “You've garnered such a fat face that you say that with such shamelessness?!” 

    "How could I, Da-ge." He feigns ignorance, "A-sang dare not."

    "Nie Huaisang!"

    Then, regardless of the impatient and uncompromising sound of his voice nor the stern expression on his face, the Nie Sect's main pavilion was filled with the joy of a banquet. The delicious fragrance of various traditional dishes from the Qinghe region filled the room, moistening his palate. 

    For that occasion, Nie huaisang went directly to the kitchen and asked for his older brother's and Nie Yufeng's favorite dishes to be prepared, reciting them by heart and not skimping on any. These were quite simple and typical, however, after the death of both of them he flatly refused to eat these choices regardless of company or seasons even if he desperately craved them.

    The reason was simple. Since these evoked the memory of Nie Mingjue and Nie Yufeng, he chose to banish them even from his sect, keeping only Yu-ge's favorite liquor for even if he was unable to remember he was not brave enough to forget either. 

    Each cup of the fragrant liquor was a stab wound to his heart. 

   Now, the rich familiar fragrance and the aftertaste of these once returned to his palate as if it were the first day, filling him with a feverish happiness that he did not think he had the happiness to enjoy once more. 

    Thus, the three of them sat familiarly facing each other and filled their bowls from Qinghe's own kitchen, the aroma of black tea wafting to their nostrils and the steam reddening their lips.  

    The table was covered from side to side with dark ceramic plates overflowing with meat from various sources and vegetables. Red sour soup, fried pheasant rolls, pale translucent buns of lamb steamed with sesame seeds, spicy stew with jade green spring onion, crispy pickled vegetables with soy sauce and vinegar were some of the dishes he could observe and filled his jubilant heart. 

    For sect servants, a banquet like this was common. But who would have thought that such trivial and mundane acts were sweet to him. After a lifetime of ashy aftertaste, even the lightest soup was considered a delicacy. 

    Nie Huaisang raised his fragrant cup of plum wine and offered it to his brother and Nie Yufeng with a smile. 

    "Da-ge, Yu-ge." Arms raised, the flowing sleeves of his own robe exposed a faint trace of his slender wrists as he addressed his siblings. "I raise this glass in the hope that you live a prosperous and happy life."

     He elegantly covered her lips with his right sleeve as he slammed the warm wine down his throat, closing his eyes momentarily. 

    In his enlightened mind, a strong murderous desire grew like the root of a bamboo shoot. 

    In this life, they had no right not to live in peace! Even if Nie Huaisang had to defy the heavens, he would not accept less than the prosperity and retribution of his sins in the past life!

    Even if he needed to expend the little spiritual power and cultivate through the weakness of his own body, he would do it a hundred times over. In order to pay off his life debt, Nie Huaisang was willing to cross water and step on fire without complaint!

    Vaguely, through his tightly closed eyes, he noted the tense silence in the room but didn't comment on it. He lowered his glass while he licked his lips, never before had the taste of wine been so bitter and sweet at the same time. 

    He arranged his sleeves elegantly, placing the empty glass on the table. However, these two men averted their eyes and watched instead the movement of the dark tea in their cups, refusing to look up with identical expressions of rigidity on their features.

    Nie Huaisang immediately understood the thoughts that were rolling in their minds, who else but him under the very sun could? 

    He knew that even if his wishes sounded reasonable and natural, for Nie Mingjue, who would die from Qi deviation and had the knowledge that he might perish in a few years for just this reason, the longing for a prosperous life is nothing more than a wish. vague wish. Having cultivated in the same way as every Nie sect disciple, with the resentment of sabers, there was no fate other than death for everyone who followed the same path of cultivation. 

     Nie Yufeng, he knew. 

     Nie Mingjue, he knew.

     But not Nie Huaisang. 

     This is why, although the intention of this wish is sweet, it is nothing more than a cruel reminder of the reality of both men. However, while Nie Mingjue and Nie Yufeng thought that Huaisang had no idea of the truth behind saber cultivation, unexpectedly they were the ones who actually did not have enough knowledge to sympathize with. 

     Nie Yufeng drank from his teacup without hesitating twice. With a vague look of doubt in his ink eyes, he suddenly said: "Young master, today seems... especially soulful and filial."

     Huaisang laughed happily as he filled Nie Yufeng's cup with graceful movements and bare jade wrists, acting especially charming.

    "Da-ge, da-ge, I'm being filial." He said warmly, the corners of hia mouth curling up into a clear smile. "Can't you just appreciate my attitude?"

     Nie Mingjue looked up from her cup of tea, regarding him with slightly knitted brows.

   "There is something you want, ask for it at once." 

   Nie Huaisang pondered for a moment as he poured himself a new glass of wine and slowly drank it down. Naturally, Nie Mingjue was familiar with his methods and did not show any weakness. A slight smile tugged at his pink lips, suddenly flattered that his brother could see through him no matter how old he was. 

    "Da-ge knows me well." He nodded, arranging his sleeves after drinking from his glass. 

    A certain peculiar gleam crossed his apricot eyes, creating the appearance of two citrine gems, translucent and impenetrable. 

    Nie Mingjue stopped the cup of tea before it even brushed his lips and mercilessly sneered, “Of course you would have something to ask for. Say it once, you rascal.”

   "Da-ge, I would like you to allow me to go on a trip." He spoke evenly, asking bluntly. Since Nie Mingjue had asked, he did not dare to mince words. 

    Unexpectedly, Nie Mingjue did not react at all, carefully asking, "A trip? Where do you want to go?" 

    "Yunping City."

Chapter Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 ; mdzs
chapter four. challenging the sky. 

    The Yunmeng region, prosperous and ever-flourishing thanks to the abundance of the tributary Hanshui River, shimmered with the impetuous strength of a clan standing on its pristine waters and a people that had not yet been sullied and devastated by the war between the five great sects. of cultivation. 

    The city of Yunping, in the Yunmeng region, was small and bustling, widely known for a popular recipe for sweet and sour tofu pudding, a coveted exclusive specialty that was distributed especially in summer and spring. 

    Yunping was not only known for its culinary specialties, but for the heavenly beauty of the courtesans who danced and sang with their delicate voices and smooth as silk in the palace of a hundred flowers. Said place, known from top to bottom in the cultivation world, was none other than a renowned brothel where crimson-lipped maidens conquered even the coldest heart. 

    Nie Mingjue shot him an accusing and chilling look, the expression on his face abruptly darkening. If there was one thing that Nie Mingjue did not tolerate, it was mundane vices so the mere mention of his part caused the sect leader to look at him intensely. Aware that his younger brother with his pretty and graceful face was a slightly lecherous drunken cat of course he was hesitant to let him visit the city where sweet wine and flowers grew in abundance. 

  Nie Huaisang sensed the danger surging and therefore did not allow his brother to wander in his thoughts and misunderstand him.

    "Da-ge, I mean well," he hastened to say, pausing for a second to feign shyness. "It's almost the end of summer, it's the perfect time to capture birds, I personally want to add a new breed to the iridescent garden." 

    The previous year, Nie Huaisang had managed to convince his older brother with much effort and dedication to convert a small portion of the Nie Sect in the back mountains to become a bird breeding garden.

    Finally, it was named with delicate and elegant calligraphy as the Iridescent Garden.  

    Within the enclosed space in the rear mountains, in dark cages with thin bars and raised above the branches of leafy green-leafed trees, lived about six of Qinghe's own breeds, various fluffy birds covered in vibrant plumage, hooting and chirping enchantingly. 

   Originally, in the past, Nie Huaisang had raised birds as a hobby from his youth. An innocent action that twisted to the point where the young sect leader Nie had eyes and ears around the world of cultivation, there was no place between heaven and earth that was not available to him. As the sect leaders looked up and down at them, Nie Huaisang looked through them. 

    “I see,” Nie Mingjue suddenly said with a scathing tone. "Why Yunping?"

    "Da-ge, I thought you'd never ask!" He said warmly, "Since there are only native Qinghe breeds in the iridescent garden, I have seriously thought of one particular breed that migrates to Yunmeng every summer, so a trip in the direction of Yunmeng is a must to capture one! couple and bring her to my garden!"

    Nie Mingjue studied him for a long moment, then grunted, “Nie Huaisang, you seem very excited, have you forgotten that you will be going to Lan xiansheng's conference on the fifteenth day of the third month? Is breeding birds more important than heading off like a cultivator?"

   Nie Huaisang felt cold sweat trickle down his temples. 

   “Da-ge, I wouldn't dare evade my responsibility as the second young sect master,” he said hastily, joining their palms together with a thud. "It's my last wish before I leave for Gusu, da-ge. I just desperately want to get this particular bird."

    Nie Yufeng drank from his cup of tea greedily, selectively ignoring the verbal spat between the two of them, as he finished, he stretched out his long wheaten fingers in the direction of the wine jar and filled the empty cup with an unusually slow motion. 

   Huaisang didn't know whether to laugh or cry at Nie Mingjue's silence, so he licked his lips nervously. 

  "Da-ge..." He muttered in an unusually soft voice, innocently pleading with his eyes. Nie Huaisang was young back then, but he understood the oppressive force of that pair of tender apricot eyes that he possessed, so he did not hesitate twice to try to move his brother's heart. 

   “Do you think that I am one of the sect disciples that you can move?” Nie Mingjue spoke calmly, “I have raised you since you were a child, I know all your patterns and tricks. If you want to go to Yunping, you don't need to beg so blatantly.”

    Nie Huaisang widened his eyes in surprise, a shocked expression lodged at the corner of his lips. 

   "Da-ge, have you really allowed me to make the trip to Yunping? Yu-ge, am I delusional?" 

    As Nie Yufeng directed his night-cloak-dark eyes at him in slight confusion, Nie Mingjue seemed to break out. 

    “Don't you trust the words of a sect leader?! 

    Nie Huaisang said helplessly: "I just didn't think da-ge would agree so easily."

    Suddenly, Nie Mingjue's expression darkened and he lashed out.

    "It seems that the second young master wants to fight hard." 

    "Da-ge, da.-ge, I was wrong!" he hastened to explain solemnly. "I will be obedient and careful, I will not take more than a period of three days."

    The sect leader stared at him languidly, a resigned expression crossing the pair of dark eyes shining like polished jade, suddenly, a beam of light seemed to cross them, and then the right corner of his mouth turned up mockingly. Faced with this small unconscious movement, the sharp masculine features looked especially attractive. 

    Nie Huaisang dumbly stared at him for a long second, surprised by the vague smile that crept onto his features. 

    "Nie Yufeng will accompany you on your journey." He sentenced with a light voice and a mocking touch. He raised the once more full teacup to the edge of his lips while out of the corner of his eye, he watched his reaction intently. 

    Nie Huaisang raised an eyebrow curiously, then smiled mildly.

    "Of course of course." He nodded, not a hint of dejection on his features. "I'll be happy to be escorted by Yu-ge!"

    In the past, he would have immediately protested even if the person in charge of his safety was Nie Yufeng, who was extremely gentle and permissive. Since he was especially mischievous and rogue, Nie Huaisang couldn't stand being watched no matter who he was, however, in this present, he wasn't really affected by the head disciple's presence. 

    Nie Mingjue blinked silently, having expected a rebuff reaction, for Nie Huaisang to act so calmly seemed to cause a slight impression of surprise in him. 

    Naturally, Nie Mingjue knew all the ins and outs of his younger brother, after all he took over not only as sect leader at a young age, but also the duty of his tutoring. Even if he was under a death curse, he would deny how much deep down, he brazenly spoiled Huaisang. 

    Having grown up in a residence with a weak body and the loneliness of not having the gentle guidance of a mother and the temper of a father, let him be free and grow like a bamboo stalk, who would have expected that, Nie Huaisang would be a young man! so cheeky and rogue, evading his responsibilities and running away at the slightest opportunity so as not to establish a formidable cultivation with the saber! 

    Such was his absorption in his thoughts that while both Nie, leader and excuse, drank from their cups in amazement, each one sunk in the uncertainty of the serene attitude of the second young master that they did not notice his singular appearance. 

    Nie Huaisang, with a graceful and gentle face, soft peach lips, and a curtain of dark lashes that cast a shadow on his still youthful cheeks, gazed at his older brother with a blank expression. His sharp pair of eyes seemed to glow with a reddish light as the lower half of his face was deliberately hidden behind the flowing right sleeve of his robe. If you stared, you would discover that the naive, pale-eyed beauty of hers was like a cobra coiled up on itself with pearly fangs ready to pierce.

Chapter Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 ; mdzs
chapter five. Yunping city. part I. 

  The ninth day of the third month being the end of the solar phase of insect awakening, the bright green foliage shimmered in the clear rays of the sun, the treetops swayed slightly, and the warm summer breeze reddened the cheeks of the insects. boisterous passersby flooding the narrow streets with color in their simple robes of various shades. Though small, Yunping City shone in its flourishing splendor, prospering on the wings of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, which though far away, still wielded its power within the area. 

    The Hundred Flower Palace  was a public establishment, brimming with peerless beauty, milky jade dolls and vermilion lips was the main attraction of Yunping City. The names of the courtesans who inhabited the palace with crimson pillars and columns ran up and down the entire region. 

     Outside, outside the palace, a young man was silently sweeping the stone stairs that led into the luxurious establishment. His appearance is not average, although he is young, he is brimming with fair and advantageous skin. He possesses a neutral expression and a petite body, however, a hint of cunning can be glimpsed at the corners of his mouth, an unparalleled gloomy aura surrounds him with intensity. 

     The long digits with blunt nails and pink pads tightened with unusual force around the wooden handle of the broom, twisting it silently while behind her ears, the vulgar sound of a whisper whipped her back over and over again. Shrill laughter and vulgar words never seemed to be lacking in that establishment, especially those directed at him. 

    Unexpectedly, a thunderous sound echoes in the distance, a loud and clear scream like the whipping wind drew the attention of the passers-by who were heading to the palace of a hundred flowers and the surroundings. Those who previously used their tongues as silver spears turned their gazes outward as once again, a cry rose in the distance, anguish tinging its voice. 

     "Thief! Help!" 

     A young man crashed to the ground while gasping in surprise, his thin and petite body landing on the palms of his hands. He wore a set of simple olive robes with flowing sleeves and a black belt wrapped around his lean and sinewy waist. On his head, a wide bamboo hat covered in a light muslin that successfully concealed his features. Several pairs of eyes fixed on the pitiful appearance of the young man who remained lying on the ground, his pale wrists were exposed, they looked thin and slightly red from his fall. 

    Meng Yao cast an icy gaze towards the would-be thief who desperately ran through the crowd. Dressed in light and dark cloaks, the thief swept through the crowd and spared no effort to desperately flee. The young man's face was hidden behind the muslin, but the appearance he gave away was extremely submissive and intimidating, therefore, although Meng Yao should not be involved with the external affairs of the establishment, he ultimately decided to intervene. With a smack of his lips, he hit the bottom of the straw broom that shook with a da! thunderous and it swayed in the wind in the direction of the young man, in a second, the thief was suddenly hit by a gust and fell to the ground seeing stars behind his eyes. 

    Meng Yao stealthily approached the man lying on the ground with a blank expression, looked at both hands warily and sure enough in his right hand, hidden in a cocoon within his fingers, a black jade token with the appearance of a beast shone bright. 

     In a spring breeze, long hair flowed in the wind, the light muslin fluttering slightly around his face, staying firmly in place. The youth who had previously been wronged by the rogue who snatched the beast token from his sash, faced him with a slight polite bow, speaking in a fine and graceful voice.

     "This one thanks you for your assistance, young master."

    The aura of this young man was incomparably gentle like a spring breeze, the clear and melodic sound of his voice inciting hearts to cross fire and ice to have the joy of hearing even a simple word of thanks. 

     The light muslin that concealed his features swayed in the wind once more, and the glimpse of upturned corners flashed in his mind. Meng Yao carefully observed how the flowing sleeves of the olive robes of undeniable quality, hid for a short second a pair of slender hands with elegant slightly red joints. 

     The robes framed the young man's vigorous and shapely lines, his long legs and an appropriate stature, Meng Yao guessed that said youth might actually be a young master, the quality of his robe's layers, the ease with which his lips enveloping others was an almost tyrannical ability, in a second, Meng Yao was willing to answer any question. 

     "Is it possible for me to know the courtesy name of my savior?" he said he in a leisurely tone. 

     "This one apologizes, young master, I do not possess a courtesy name." He responded accordingly, a slight curve of courtesy peeking into the vortices of his mouth. 

     The young master tilted his chin slightly in understanding as he clasped his slender hands in front of his belly thoughtfully. Meng Yao felt drops of cold sweat run down his temples, he had given the young man his help but unexpectedly, he wanted to meet him.

    He desperately wanted to quietly retreat but that young master was quite persistent.

    Silence remained for a minute in which they faced each other. The young man reflected for a moment and after a pause he continued: "Since it is not feasible for me to know his name, could I invite him to a tea house as a thank you?  

    "Young master, you don't have to thank me at all." He answered with simplicity and the hint of an awkward grimace on his pretty face. Meng Yao couldn't afford to accompany this young master, especially not to a tea house. He was deliberately not allowed to stray away from the palace of a hundred flowers. He held the wooden stick in his calloused hands and waited patiently for the young man to finally give up, however, his hazy gaze drifted towards the establishment. 

     "I'm afraid it's impossible for me to accompany you." He said warmly, hoping to be understood, silently blaming himself for his own recklessness, eyed the young man warily. 

     "Why don't we go inside then?" He proposed innocently, like someone who has never picked flowers and trampled grass. "It seems that my savior evades me, although I wish to express my gratitude, I see no other way than to corner him."

     The palace of a hundred flowers  is a large three-story building, with two columns and crimson ceilings that stood out at first glance in the morning light. Although it was a properly functioning brothel in the early evening, early morning, and late afternoon, the palace served fragrant tea and snacks to daytime patrons. He was especially renowned for the variety of flower tea he offered his customers, made from peach blossoms alongside plump sweet glutinous rice cakes. He was actually quite popular. 

     Without waiting for a response from him, the muslin cloth and olive cloaks swayed in the wind as the young man made his way inside the establishment, enveloped in the light of a youthful deity he hurried inside, leaving Meng Yao with a grim expression and an ashen face. 

Chapter Text

𝐋𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐢́𝐚 𝐝𝐞 𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 ; mdzs
chapter five. yunping city. part II. 

    The clear and vibrant sound of an erhu filled the hall of the palace of a hundred flowers, the gazes of the various patrons currently staying in the hall were drawn to the young man wrapped in a light muslin that hid his appearance from the rest of the world, like a cold and distant deity she walked at a slow pace and sat down at the tables set out in the back. 

    Meng Yao felt the contemptuous gazes of the waiters on his back as he stood in front of the young man in silence. His face flushed slightly with embarrassment, but due to the wheaten hue of his skin it didn't show visibly on his cheeks. 

   "Young Master, I..." He desperately tried to persuade him to leave and leave the matter to a simple verbal thank you. However, the young master was unwilling to let him finish and he raised one of his slender hands to the height of his forehead. 

    The broad bamboo hat was removed with a light movement, the muslin fluttering and gathering under sleek-jointed hands, Meng Yao discreetly lowered his gaze. A flash of white skin caught his attention, Meng Yao was definitely used to white powdered flower faces and crimson lips, however this young man's paleness was definitely natural, making him look extremely fragile. 

    Raising his gaze completely, he finally took in the appearance of this person. 

    With a smooth, refined and elegant temperament, the young master gave him a hooded-eyed smile, his pretty peach blossom eyes looking especially sharp and bright. A long waterfall of ink ran freely down his back and a simple headdress held half of his hair to the top of his head. This young man's features gave a feeling that he was a beautiful glowing jade. 

    Meng Yao did not dare to sit directly in front of the young man. After all, he was but a humble existence so he remained standing. The gap between the two of them seemed to grow the moment he revealed his appearance. 

    Meng Yao had learned to be cautious from a young age, developing an insight that was welcome in his lifestyle. Constantly surviving in that brothel aware of his mother's circumstances.

    He wanted nothing more than to return the value for which his mother was sold to the brothel and free her from the yoke of the palace of a hundred flowers. However, the money she received for working every day was not enough, her original purchase price was too high, and she could not afford to pay it, so she worked hard at any opportunity. 

    Meng Shi was an extremely beautiful courtesan, like a lively and delicate plum blossom. Unlike the other courtesans, Meng Shi was outstanding and educated, mastering three of the four traditional arts, with dignified mastery she played the guqin strings, she played Qí* with intelligence, and her calligraphy was extremely beautiful. These types of characteristics made Meng Shi the most invaluable courtesan of the palace of a hundred flowers, however, with the passage of time, this title paled more and more every day before the new flowers that entered the brothel every year. 

     Meng Yao clenched his fists at the bitter reminder that his mother's youth was fading away locked up in that establishment. 

     At one point, catching the uproar caused by the elegant young master who entered the hall of the palace of a hundred flowers, one of the three waiters who were serving tables for gentlemen and cultivators waiting for the opening of the night entertainment, dressed in simple robes he approached the table with a courteous smile and a sweet tongue ready to take advantage of the client's money. It was well known that anyone who entered the palace was willing to spend a substantial amount of gold coins. 

    "Welcome back, young master."

    "The young master is waiting for someone else?" He asked with a friendly smile, deliberately avoiding Meng Yao with a dismissive flick of his cheek. "This lowly one can bring the specialty of the palace for the young master and his companion"

    The young man tilted his head with a puzzled expression and a hint of mockery in his eyes like two young apricots. Meng Yao mentally braced himself for his response, expecting to find a sneer upon realizing who Meng Yao really was in the Hundred Flower Palace. 

     "Of course, two cups of tea and the specialty of the establishment will be well received." He admitted with a smile as bright as moonlight, his graceful face was really pretty when he smiled, prompting faint hearts to bask in the young master's beauty. For a moment Meng Yao also fixed his eyes on his fresh and youthful appearance. 

    The waiter seemed overwhelmed by the young man's smile and blinked like an owl before leaning in and disappearing to get the order. Meng Yao foolishly remained in his place, looking at the young man in disbelief. Was he really so unintelligent that he had not noticed the look of disdain from the waiter who took his order? 

    Meng Yao was beginning to think that helping the sitting young master was entirely a mistake. With an aggrieved sigh he decided that it was enough and that he needed to draw a line between them before it was too late, he preferred to be rude and decline whatever thanks the young master planned for him.

    "Sit down." He coaxed casually, looking from his to him in confusion. "Aren't you my guest after all? I couldn't think that you are disregarding my hospitality."

    Meng Yao did not dare to say a word, sitting quietly in front of the young master. Even if he wanted to clearly reject the treatment from him, he did not dare to do so directly.

    "I do not dare." He said helplessly, resting his hands on his tense thighs. He looked up and suppressed the discomfort. The young man's outward appearance soothed the unease brewing within him, however, it was evident that Meng Yao was not comfortable with the final disposition. 

     The bamboo hat was deposited on the table with a careless movement and the young master sat upright in his place, arranging the flowing sleeves of his robe while pretending not to see the interior of the brothel out of the corner of his eye. Although the reputation of the flower palace was renowned in the Yunmeng region, reaching like sweet honey even as far as the golden carp tower, in reality, the true appearance of the place was a mystery to those who have never stepped on grass or chased flowers. . 

    Naturally, the young master would not lose his composure and with a solemn expression would pretend not to accurately detail the interior of the palace with a critical eye. Although on the surface his appearance was delicate and calm as a flowing river, Meng Yao guessed that on the inside, the hot blood of a young man would burn in his veins. They both meditated in silence, one too stunned to start a conversation and the other more than interested in the interior of the palace of a hundred flowers.

    Finally, the clear sound of the erhu dispersed and the young master smiled flatteringly, sliding a silver coin across the table in his direction.

    "Mmm, a lovely piece of music." He said softly. 

     Meng Yao stared at the coin intently and declined, pushing it back. 

    "Young master can hand it over to you personally, this lowly one doesn't want to interfere in your affairs." He spoke calmly, with a cold expression. 

      The young master didn't seem at all fazed by his denial and instead gave him a calm smile, setting the coin down without a second glance. Meng Yao forced himself to be polite but desperately wanted the young master to finally withdraw, the cold sweat running down his temples making him deeply uncomfortable. 

     With a sudden thump, an earthenware plate was placed on the table, covered in white sweet and sour tofu cakes coated in a layer of ginger. These plump little cakes were quite famous in the Yunping area and were the specialty of the flower palace just like green plum wine. 

      A small white porcelain teapot was placed next to the plate, the servant, with a kind expression asked; "Young master, is this servant making you uncomfortable?" 

      The young master looked at him with disdain and focused his attention on the porcelain teapot, elegantly pouring the two cups of tea. Slender blonde wrists were subtly exposed as he gently pushed the flowing sleeves out of the way. Seeing this scene at such close proximity that it needed to be vividly portrayed in a painting, Meng Yao was not quick to look away. 

     The young master had an exceedingly pleasing appearance, with a youthful and whitish face, he could only be seen as an innocent immortal beauty that bloomed like a flower to be admired. Meng Yao had been surrounded by flowers his entire life, but he had never seen a young master with such good looks. 

    "This humble one is my guest." He stated coldly, turning the teacup towards him. The corners of his mouth turned up and Meng Yao momentarily at a loss for what to say, he remained motionless until the young master gently patted him to take the cup from him. 

   The young man drank from his own cup of tea without losing an ounce of elegance, his dark lashes like a raven's feathers casting a shadow on his pale cheeks. 

    The servant next to him seemed not to come out of his stupor, shock painting his dark features. Meng Yao took his own cup and took a sip, never before had tea tasted so sweet. 

    Suddenly, like a sharp blade, a man streaked across the instance, his voice rising in a frenzied surge. The young master raised his eyebrows grimly, rubbing the curve of the cup with his pink fingertips. 

   "Second Young Master!"

   "Ah, too soon." The young man suddenly mused, drinking the last sip of tea. 

   Too soon? Meng Yao had a particular suspicion. 

Chapter Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 ; mdzs
chapter seven. second young master Nie.

   A cultivator crossed the entrance to the Hundred Flower Palace's main pavilion with a gust of wind, the three layers of high-quality robes fluttering with a ripple. The outer layer, of an olive hue, was embroidered with silver threads in the design of a beast's head. His fighting spirit was fierce and incomparable; the space between his brows contained an air of oppression and elegance of a dignified and righteous cultivator of a prominent sect. Long inky hair flowed past his sleeves, a silver headdress gleamed on his head. Without a doubt, the cultivator was a distinguished and powerful presence that stirred the tender hearts of the palace residents. 

    "Second Young Master!" 

    The young master in question filled the contents of his cup with the steaming fragrant tea, the fluid movement of his sleeves no less graceful than before. The bustle of the palace seemed to be silenced before the entrance of the worthy cultivator and in the midst of the stupor, they directed his attention towards the delicate young man who was drinking languidly from his cup of tea. 

    Meng Yao's critical eye did not miss the deadly glint of a pair of weapons that were firmly strapped to the cultivator's back, wrapped in black silk cloth. Although it was impossible to determine the type of weapon he cultivated with from his vague appearance, the murderous aura around him made it impossible to get close enough to determine it. 

  "Second Young Master!" He howled with a whipping sharp as the wind, the chilling sound of his voice alerting those present that though they longed to flee like chickens in a pen, yet none dared to move at all. 

   Meng Yao turned his gaze to the carefree youth, who was quietly sipping short sips of the fragrant tea, unfazed by the negative aura that hung over the cultivator. The river of ink stirred in a whirl as the cultivator found his way to the table occupied by both of them, anger palpable in the almost non-existent space between his arched brows. 

   The young master set down the teacup with a calm movement and rose gracefully from his seat, his olive robes flowing like waves. Meng Yao was put under the scrutiny of a pair of sharp and cold eyes, the cultivator's appearance was outstanding but this only made him feel suffocated, particularly inappropriate. Cold sweat formed on his forehead. 

   The cultivator spoke. "Second Young Master Nie."

   "Yu-ge, you found me." He quickly pointed at him, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "I was heartbroken the moment I lost track of you, Yu-ge. This young man kindly helped me."

   "The young master is not allowed to enter these kinds of indecent establishments." 

   Meng Yao did not come out of her stupor for long minutes. 

   This simple youth with delicate features and a pitiful, unattainable appearance like a kaolin flower, was the second young master of the distinguished Qinghe Nie Sect. Being the only sect to use a horned beast head on its banner, it was impossible not to make it out with the naked eye. However, although it was well known in the cultivation world as one of the warrior sects with a violent cultivation style with an immutable sect leader famous for his oppressive fighting spirit, the existence of the second young master was itself a mystery. 

   Meng Yao had eavesdropped, as well as the rest of the information he possessed on the five cultivation sects, amidst the low-level cultivators who frequently visited the brothel chatting about this young man. Her gentle temperament and weak willingness to learn her sect's cultivation method was well known, her beautiful and delicate appearance on the other hand, were just increasingly wild rumors in which sect leader Nie prevented her from traveling freely. because of the enchanting appearance it was capable of shaking the heavens and destroying the strongest will. 

    Silently, he could only half agree with all the wild statements uttered with indecent interest. Surrounded by a sea of fragrant and poisonous flowers, Meng Yao nodded to himself in understanding, Nie Huaisang was indeed a little beauty. The rumors weren't so far-fetched after all. 

   “This young man kindly lent me his help.” He smiled, reaching out his tender white hands to grasp the hem of the cultivator's flowing sleeves. "He doesn't accept my rewards, what should I do, Yu-ge?"

   He spoke grievously, his long fan of curling lashes casting a dark shadow across his pale cheeks. From that position, he had the appearance of a gentle youth like a spring breeze, 

    The cultivator narrowed his eyes and looked at young master Nie with a dark expression.  

    "Young master, what kind of kindness could you find in a brothel?" He said chillingly. 

    The young man's docile expression seemed to break and a frown appeared between his curved brows. A light wisp of coldness shook those present. 

    Nie Huaisang, "Yu-ge, kindness has no titles or provenance." 

    Nie Yufeng, “…” You know what I meant. 

    The young master feigned ignorance, letting go of the hem of his sleeves and standing a convenient distance away. The cool gaze resumed that youthful, innocent brilliance as a paper fan with a plum blossom design hid the lower half of his face. 

    "Yu-ge, it's not what you think." He said with a pitiful air. "Young Meng was nothing short of a gentleman, he requested help after an altercation and he was kindly the only one to do something about it."

    Meng Yao nodded, curving his waist in a proper and formal bow. 

    "Cultivator, I'm afraid you misunderstood the situation. The lowly me is nothing more than a servant."

    Nie Yufeng raised an eyebrow and silently gazed at him simple but clean appearance, his gaze was languid but not offensive. He cupped his hands in a courteous motion and bowed his body respectfully towards him, even if Meng Yao addressed himself accordingly, the show of courtesy surprised him greatly because a servant should never receive this kind of display of courtesy. their masters. Due to his lineage and position within the establishment he had received nothing but sneers and sidelong glances so in a stunned state, she bowed in response. 

    "The Nie sect thanks you for your help, young Meng." He stated serenely, returning to his upright position. 

     “Really…” Meng Yao returned to his position in like manner, still stunned and unresponsive. ":..there is nothing to be thankful for, cultivator."

     He clasped his hands together and said uncomfortably with cold sweat dripping down his temples. 

      Who would have thought that such an abrupt display of bravery would bring 

     Nie Huaisang sighed with delight and said quietly, “Young Meng, the Nie Sect is prosperous and influential, so I will say this with the fair reciprocity that your kindness deserves, is there any wish that Young Meng hopes to fulfill? If so, no. I will limit myself in my offer."

     Meng Yao held his breath and declared grimly. "The humble me dare not ask for anything, young master."

     How could he have the courage to dare to ask for reciprocity for a momentary kindness that he regrets? Meng Yao prefers the freedom that being in the shadows grants, however, the attention of the entire palace of a hundred flowers is on him and without the strength to resist, he could not lose his temper and was only able to politely reject the young man's intentions. Master Nie. 

     Although deep within himself he was tempted and touched by her offer, he was afraid that if he accepted it, he would ask too much, because Meng Yao has a simple wish that unfortunately only he could fulfill. 

     With a noble gesture, Nie Huaisang tilted his head at the mistrust in her eyes. He pondered for a moment and then, his voice sweet as mother-of-pearl and the lower half of his face hidden by the exquisitely crafted paper fan, he said without any remorse. 

    "Would you even refuse your mother's freedom, young Meng?"

Chapter Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 ; mdzs
 chapter eight. the price of freedom.  

   Suddenly, that brief and nervous gaze of the young man seemed to sharpen like a blade. His naturally handsome and youthful face with clean features suffused with a sudden coldness at the mention of his mother. Nie Huaisang did not miss that change and remained silent, hiding the lower half of his face ambiguously. From that position, Meng Yao was unable to determine the young man's intentions, although he did not dare to be impolite, the flow of the conversation fanned the fire of discomfort within him. 

   With a stern expression, Meng Yao muttered, “Young master, what do you mean?”

    Nie Huaisang looked confused and tilted his head: "Isn't your mother a maid from this establishment?"

    Unexpectedly, Young Master Nie was aware of his and his mother's situation. That caused a wave of helplessness and caution in himself so making up his mind, he finally decided not to feign any more courtesy and announced his intentions sternly. 

    Meng Yao gave him an icy look, "I ask that you please not disturb the establishment and leave quietly."

    The young master raised his eyebrows in surprise and closed the paper fan with a flourish of his wrist as the cultivator next to him suddenly came to life, his slender fingers disdainfully lodged in the young man's elbow shooting him a chilling look as if he were ready to deal a killing blow at the slightest provocation. Meng Yao flinched slightly at this, feeling a cold sweat break out on his forehead, yet he did not waver from his intent. 

    "Young Meng, don't be too hasty, my intention is naturally to return the kindness of your treatment." Nie Huaisang struck his palm with the wooden outer casing of his fan, smiling nobly, far from a frivolous appearance. "As I said, as long as it was in my power, I would not withdraw my offer, so my interest lies in offering what you most desire, am I wrong?"

    The weight in Meng Yao's heart lifted slightly, though the discomfort lingered. He couldn't afford to blindly trust this young man or anyone else so he with a courteous smile avoided answering directly. 

    In fact, Meng Yao had to admit that this young master had an upright and bright appearance just as his demeanor was overflowing and kind, far from the frivolity of men in a similar position to him. However, since he was a child, considering the environment in which he grew up, he actively distrusted anyone, cultivator or not, distinguished or humble, measured the same in his eyes. He couldn't afford to give in to a passing kindness easily. 

    Meng Yao grew naturally cautious. 

    He carefully inquired, "May I ask how the young master possesses knowledge of my mother? You and I are strangers to each other, so my existence should not be the talk of a gentleman like you."

    Nie Huaisang patiently listened to his words, his eyes, like two ripe apricots, watching him carefully, attentive to his every question. There was no apparent ulterior motive in his transparent and interested gaze, his clean and clear features similar to a spring pond, he remained impassive. The cultivator next to him didn't flinch and avoided directly intruding without his master's order. 

    “Young Meng, I am afraid that…” he spoke evenly with a slight hint of hesitation. "The reputation of the establishment has traveled a long and winding road, there is no gentleman, cultivator or lowly man who does not have knowledge of the palace of a hundred flowers. This of course includes...certain vague rumors that have brought me here."

    Meng Yao tilted his chin. The Hundred Flower Palace was indeed a famous establishment, traveling a long way through the five great sects and even to the most inhospitable village far away. There was no distinguished or humble cultivator who did not know of the existence of such a place, it was a renowned brothel not only for the number of beautiful courtesans but for the wide variety of flower tea served exclusively on the premises. However, all these details did not seem to relate in any way to his own existence. 

    "The young master hints that he had an interest in the palace even before he came?" He questioned suspiciously. Nie Huaisang blinked in his direction with interest, soon, the corners of his mouth turned up in a quiet smile. 

    “Young Meng, rumors transcend cold trails and seasons. My interest in visiting Yunping City is contrary to what you think, a frivolous matter. During this time of year, a species of bird native to Yunmeng descends from its nests on looking for a mating partner, my intention is indeed, to have the opportunity to get some young chicks and raise them in my aviary. Although this was my original intention, I am afraid I also cannot deny that due to extenuating circumstances in the that my life was in danger, our paths crossed." He readily admitted. 

    Meng Yao guessed that a young man like that would have such particular habits as making a trip from the Nie Sect residence to the Yunmeng territories for the mere interest of a bird that caught his eye, so once that was uttered, he did not hesitate to believe such words and instead directed a frost-like gaze in his direction. 

    "Even though that was the original intention of the young master and our meeting was inevitable, how does this influence the knowledge of the relationship between one of the brothel's courtesans and the humble me?" 

    Nie Huaisang pondered for a moment, then cautiously replied, “Just as knowledge of an establishment like this reaches even Qinghe Nie, so do other rumors, especially…about a courtesan, beautiful as a marigold. plum tree who raises his family's son in this kind of place, especially one that is rumored to be from someone distinguished from one of the great five cultivation sects.”

   At such a response, Meng Yao bristled and cast a grim look.

  He knew in advance that rumors traveled faster than smoke, especially through the five great sects. His mother never spared or concealed his true heritage as the son of the Jin sect leader, Jin Guangshan, yet during his short life, Meng Yao never caught a glimpse of his father's appearance other than in short, weak stories spoken by his mother. , Mengshi. The existence of a bastard like him was especially talked about among people who, greedy for an immoral story, would spin a web until those involved couldn't escape their grasp. 

   Although he had been taught by his own hand in the traditional arts as a youth from a wealthy family, it was not enough to meet the standards that would be expected of a distinguished cultivator and he only received inordinate ridicule from the palace courtiers. Meng Yao wishes he had a stronger constitution to defend his mother from the rampant customers, however, even though he turned fourteen that year he looked gaunt and small. 

    Nie huaisang did not show any weakness at his change in expression and instead, remained unfazed. Without mediation he continued gently: “Young Meng, the cultivation world is aware of this fact, and although the whispers rise to the heavens, you must not allow yourself to be intimidated by them.”

    Meng Yao's face was ashen. Shame covered her features and the pretty youthful features twisted. 

    Nie Huaisang stopped his tirade and offered a courteous smile.

    "My proposition may seem inconsistent to you, but not for this reason, you must reject it. If this is your wish then I can provide the means."

    “Young Master…”

    At the same time, the cultivator uttered with slight anguish and confusion, as Meng Yao raised him voice in a weak cry. Uncertainty covered the pair of faces tightly, and Nie Huaisang curled the corners of her lips into a springtime smile. With a wave of his hand she dismissed any negative thoughts and voiced pride. 

   “Young Meng, to reach the point of enlightenment on the path of cultivation one must be persistent and sensible, even though my own cultivation skills are mediocre I am sure that an innate talent like yours should not be wasted in this kind of venue and With his mother being the only tie that keeps him bound against his will, isn't this the best way to lure him into my sect?" 

    Although Meng Yao desperately wanted to take the proposition and follow this young master, he was overly cautious and suffered from intense uncertainty. Nie Huaisang seeing his hesitation extended his hand towards the cultivator next to him and demanded with a singsong voice. 

   "Yu-ge, my qiankun bag." 

    The cultivator emitted a dark aura and with a solemn expression untied the qiankun bag from his sash at the command of his master, who happily took it between his slender hands and inspected the contents with a critical eye. Upon checking the contents, he closed the bag with an accurate movement and shortened the distance between them, took her right hand and placed the small light-colored bag in his palm. 

    Meng Yao felt the heavy contents occupy the space of his entire palm and when he thought it was enough the young master suddenly pulled his own sash and stretched out a polished black jade token in his direction with the appearance of a beast. It was that object for which his paths inevitably crossed. 

    “This jade token belongs to the Nie sect, once you have claimed your mother's freedom, if you ever wish to cultivate and serve my sect, you can head there and you will be welcomed along with your mother.” 

    Once such words were spoken, the young master wasted no time and with a soft smile and inky black hair flowing alongside his sleeves he withdrew in the company of the cultivator. Meng Yao watched as the cultivator and the young man withdrew with a courteous bow, leaving such a priceless treasure before his humble hands. Meng Yao was completely resigned to his fate and with an honest bow of his head, he gave silent thanks as both figures lost their way with red-rimmed eyes. 

    Once they walked out of the Hundred Flower Palace, Nie Huaisang raised his bamboo hat and placed it on his head calmly, a light warm breeze ruffling the light muslin that covered his expression from the rest of the world. There, standing amidst the passers-by who were making their way through Yunping City, Nie Yufeng stared at his young master in disbelief and confusion. Although the young man looked like an immortal deity covered by that weimao and olive robes flowing in the wind, the silence that enveloped his figure offered a sensible and distant image like a mountain of frost. 

   Unexpectedly, that image was shattered when he spoke cheerfully. 

   Nie Huaisang, "Ge, lend me money."

   Nie Yufeng: “…”

   Black-bellied young master! Do you dare to ask for money after having given everything to a stranger? 

Chapter Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 ; mdzs
 chapter nine. unclean realm. 

     The Qinghe region was prosperous and concise even when environmental conditions were adverse. Consisting of an icy mountain range that ran through the region from top to bottom like the anatomy of a vigorous dragon. In summer, the vegetation was abundant and lush, cicadas abounded on the trunks of the jade-green-leaved bushy apricot trees, however, in winter, the Qinghe region was indeed the most icy among the five great sects; a thick layer of light fog covered the mountain peaks and the freezing blizzard tossed the thick fur garments that the inhabitants of the region wore. 

     The Qinghe Nie Sect, located in the Qinghe Mountain Region was well known for its forceful and fierce cultivation method. The sect's disciples were violent and aggressive in battle, with thick skin and arched brows with intent. Within the five great sects, Nie disciples were silent with imposing auras around them, as well as well known for their high resistance to wine and fierce battle moves. 

     Enraging a Nie disciple was like seeking death for himself. 

     Nie Huaisang raised the bamboo curtain with the back of his hand, poking his chin in the direction of the mountain range as the carriage pulled by the pair of ink-mane horses headed for the Nie residence in the unclean realm. After begging for silver coins from Nie Yufeng, with a little face traced with baby fat and eyes like two silky crystals he inevitably launched a hasty retreat upon encountering a black aura from the elder, as a proper coward she raised his feathers and ran away. 

     Nie Huaisang spent two more days searching for the nestlings of a myna nest. He happily waited patiently behind the bushes and before the departure of the mother bird he spared no effort to capture the three young from the nest of straw and jade green branches. The three birds, resembling three fluffballs of vibrant ink feathers with traces of gold, carried a tiny curved beak along with a pair of sharp round grape crystals. Tenderness washed over Nie Huaisang and he fed his little new pets ripe and sweet fruits. 

    Myna's hatchlings were simple birds to raise, consuming fruits and insects, the sound of their singing as clear and distinctive as Qin strings. In his previous life, Huaisang bred these birds especially in the cold garden along with a myriad of other species belonging to the regions surrounding Qinghe and native to the five great sects. His strategy was simple, but no less cunning and decisive; Having birds from a few regions in his possession, he could enjoy a full view of the panorama of the farming world while satisfying his love for raising pets. 

     Huaisang carefully examined the three balls of fluff hooting inside the small cage of polished wooden bars. Initially, he intended to retrieve at least one chick and take it with him to the impure realm to be raised by him, this time, he couldn't afford to raise these three pets just like in his previous life. His departure to Gusu Lan was fast approaching, the care of the three myna chicks should fall to Nie Yufeng, who unfortunately did not understand how to raise these little balls of fluff. 

     Nie Yufeng dealt with young disciples of the sect every new year and with his little son, Nie Zonghui but never with animals as tiny as a baby bird. He naturally wouldn't know which proper path to choose. Only when Nie Huaisang thought it through carefully, then he had no choice but to place such responsibility on his chief disciple. 

     "Yu-ge." he called in a honeyed voice. "These little birds...will have to be raised by you."

      Nie Yufeng's complexion gradually darkened and he responded unceremoniously. 

     "Young master, I am afraid that I am incapable." 

     "Nie sect's main disciple is incapable?" 

     Feeling like iron being hot-hit, Nie Yufeng silently choked and pursed his lips.  

     Nie Huaisang's implacable smile did not reach his eyes. 

     "Yu-ge, I will attend the discussion lectures in Gusu given by Grandmaster Lan this year, I am afraid that even if I wish to breed these birds, I will not be able to do so until after I return to the unclean realm this year,  who could raise them but you?" 

     Nie Yufeng pretended not to understand, but smiled. "Young master, will you entrust the raising of your birds to a warrior like me? Aren't you afraid of finding a crow instead of a sensible bird?"

    "Who else but you, ge?" The pair of tender apricot eyes curved like a spring breeze toward her ge like a flattering caress. "With your care, these little chicks will thrive."

     The fine hairs on his body stood up in response. 

     Nie Huaisang curled his lips like a giggling youthful beauty as he said, “This one thanks you in advance.” 

     Stupefaction crossed Nie Yufeng's handsome face, elegant ink brows forced together, and the cultivator's honey complexion turned pale. The seriousness expressed in that request surprised Nie Yufeng, so with no way out he said in a gloomy voice: "If the young master insists, this one has no choice but to accept it."

     Nie Huaisang said lightly: “Yu-ge will raise these little ones splendidly.”

     Nie Yufeng thought with extreme regret: “Young black lotus master!”

. . . 

     The Nie Sect residence possessed a stern and dark appearance, the outer grounds of dark earth and cypress trees rustling in the icy wind greeted their young master with a silent cheer. The impure realm, residence of the descendants of Nie Li, who held the title of the sect's first cultivator, boasted a broad front, as well as an air of magnificence and sobriety. Wide columns, grayish tiles and pale flagstone were the fundamental parts of the main pavilion, as well as the adjacent ones. At the rear of the impure realm three mountain peaks rose through the haze of cold mist, there amid the lush greenery, disciples who condensed a golden core received sect-specific training and fighting techniques. 

     His hair danced in the cold evening wind while the olive tunic that wrapped her body fluttered elegantly at his footsteps. Nie Huaisang was a young master with childish features still present, yet the underlying beauty that he would be in the future could be appreciated by any pair of healthy eyes. In the gaze of the disciples of different ages, his young master was by far a piece of polished jade with a delicate temperament like a pear blossom. 

     Upon his young master's return, the clear and raised sound of youthful voices rose in unison in a corresponding greeting: “Disciples welcome second young master Nie.”

    In the blink of an eye, his silent train of thought was thrown into disarray and stunned by the reception from his sect's little disciples. A deep feeling crossed his eyes, charming as two pearls and a smile framed her delicate features, unexpectedly, a ball of grayish garments crossed the training yard with a quick buzz and crashed without regard into the clueless young master who was preparing a wave of compliments to the little disciples who received him with enthusiasm. 

    "Sang-ge, you have come!" the little voice clear as a bell cavorted with happiness. Nie Huaisang suppressed the slight groan of pain upon receiving the careless impact and immediately, his five slender jade-white fingers landed on the head of the small dumpling that was clinging to her outer robes with delight. 

    This young disciple, dressed in the childish robes of the sect, was none other than Nie Zonghui. The shock jolted Nie Huaisang's heart, who, out of inertia, brushed the silky ink locks away from the little bun's features with stupefaction covering his features. 

     Finding himself in the past was tantamount to bumping into people from his past life in an appearance befitting the eighteenth year of Xuanzheng. However, the stupefaction and torment in his heart would not change knowing even that. 

    A clear and commanding voice muttered angrily: "My son makes me bite the dust for my young master, unacceptable."

     This person, of course, was none other than Nie Yufeng.

    Nie Huaisang held back a laugh in his chest and knotted his fingers in the hairs of the little bun, who tugged at their robes with a smile of cheeks covered in baby fat like dumplings. That year, Nie Zonghui turned eight years old, just a few months before he had condensed his lasted core to such a young age, naturally, such an attribute coming from his sect was already considered a prodigy of the cultivation world from such a young age.

     Sixteen years from now, Nie Zonghui would become the main disciple and commander of his sect's troops, as well as the famed master of dual sabers. Zonghui was tall, built like a pine tree, with sharp cheekbones that brought out the cleaner, more graceful beauty of him than his father's, complete with an unattainable underlying aura. Vigorous and with extremely high cultivation at his age, he Nie he's sect was pleased to call him their main disciple and heir. 

    Nie Huaisang hid a laugh behind the flow of his sleeve. 

    Compared to the small boy clinging to his robes, Zonghui was far from that attractive appearance. Whether it was a matter of luck or misadventure, Nie Huaisang would show his favor towards the young disciple knowing that in the not too distant future, this youngster would repay his kindness with fidelity and might, in addition to this fact, he could not hide the warm feelings that, having taken root in his heart, they belonged to Nie Zonghui,  

     He had forgotten the freshness and lightness of those days when Nie Zonghui fit perfectly into the circle of his wide sleeves. He allowed himself to subtly pat his head, in a few years, touching this young man's head would be impossible so he seized the opportunity, rubbing the boy's dignity delicately. 

    In this life, Nie Huaisang would make sure to keep the lives of Nie Mingjue and Nie Yufeng in his grasp. He smiled faintly through a cloak of fairy charm. In the eyes of the young generation of his sect, his second young master, with a mild temperament and stunning beauty, was truly easy on the eyes! 

Chapter Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 ; mdzs
chapter nine. peak of tribulation.

      The green leaves like chives swayed in the summer breeze, the faint fragrance of apricot danced around the main courtyard and traveled beyond it, towards the icy mountains that stood as part of the lush and imposing landscape of three peaks of high mountains covered of thick mist that stretched out like an unbroken chain. At the far end of the courtyard, a small pavilion with open columns and lush cherry blossom trees all around it concealed a slender figure who drank from a steaming cup of plum tea in small sips, exposing a sliver of pale skin. glass as he brought the rim of the cup closer to his mouth. 

      He was a delicate-featured youth dressed in a simple olive robe tied with a gray sash from which hung a golden tassel tied with a knot and a glittering pearl. As he drank the contents of the cup to the bottom of it he turned his gaze towards the youths who were training martial arts under the scorching hot sun in the sect pavilion. At a young age they were instructed by the chief disciple in the precepts and meditation, cultivating their minds and bodies until they were capable of condensing a golden core. 

       The Nie Sect trained their young disciples with a domineering and rigorous method from an early age so that once they condensed a golden core, they would overcome the tribulations and cultivation method of the sect. 

      A large number of vigorous little chicks entered the sect's early rounds of open-door recruitment, but only a small group of these could advance to the later stages of formation. Nie disciples' lifespans were already comparatively shorter to the rest of the cultivation world thanks to their cultivation method, so only applicants with formidable attributes and high potential could complete the training and wield spirit sabers on night hunts. 

      The Qinghe Nie Sect was located on a mountain range. Two of the three mountain peaks covered in thick mist, the howling of beasts and birds soaring through the skies tinged with a translucent layer of icy cold were the private residences of the sect's interim disciples. The main peak, called  Tribulation Peak , was the abode of Sectmaster Xinjian. Master Xinjian trained the young disciples and tapped their potential into becoming Nie cultivators. Simply put, it was Nie Binyue who was in charge of educating the youngsters with the sect's secret cultivation techniques. 

      However, the path to reach the top of the tribulation peak was narrow and laborious. Without true talent and weak cultivation, it was already impossible to approach beyond the boundary of the main courtyard, as the peak of tribulation was engulfed in a dense and bloody spiritual aura. Once the disciples condensed their golden core, they could go up to the peak and train, however, crossing the mountain was already a valued feat. 

     Only when the disciples crossed the main mountain would they officially become second generation inner disciples of the sect while those who were unable would simply be outer disciples serving the sect. Qinghe Nie was strict in his doctrines, especially towards inner disciples. 

      "A-hui." His voice soft as the breeze and sweet as warm wine called to the hard-trained little bun with his golden forehead drenched in sweat: "Come closer."

      Nie Zonghui hesitated briefly. The youth was dressed in a simple olive robe and black sash, the shadow of his boyish features seeming to fade with the training and growth of his body. Nie Yufeng watched from a distance with an icy and stern appearance as the younger disciples stood holding blocks of bronze up to their chins obediently kneeling under the blazing sun. 

      The encouraging smile Nie Zonghui received from the second young master released his heart from the fear of abandoning his training so he headed towards the small pavilion with energy, his palms reddened from holding the bronze blocks since the late hour mǎo*  to the sì*. 

      Nie Huaisang lowered his gaze in pleasure, and his tone was extremely warm as he addressed Nie Zonghui, “A-hui, have you climbed to the peak of tribulation?”

     Nie Zonghui rubbed his chin with a timid look: "Sang-ge, I'm still incapable."

     His memories are still fuzzy after awakening, so he was forced to extract information directly from Nie Zonghui. 

     The cultivation stages included foundation, refining, and core condensation, currently Nie Zonghui was at the core condensation stage. A feat that catapulted him directly as a prodigy in his sect, he was the youngest Nie to cross from the refining stage to golden core condensation at such a promiscuous age of eight. 

     It was a high caliber little monster hidden in the cultivation world, as the sect did not supply information of Nie Zonghui until he became Master Xinjian's direct disciple. And it wasn't until Nie Zonghui became the right-hand man of the newly promoted sect leader after Nie Mingjue's qi deviation, that his name spread in the cultivation world as the "dual saber master."

      "Is the mountain qi too dense?" 

     "It's still too dense for me to cross the bridge." Nie Zonghui obediently replied. "I can use the surrounding qi to get two-thirds of the way through before I have to retreat."

      What a little monster, indeed!

      The rear mountains of the Nie Sect were enriched with surrounding Qi that nourished the surrounding magnolia trees and grass. It was an auspicious place to cultivate, however, the qi was so dense and violent that without a proper cultivation base and a golden core to refine the qi, it would be drowned out by the intense domineering aura that prevailed at the peaks. 

     Nie Zonghui slowly subdued the violent qi and refined it into his golden core to cross over, however, his refining ability seemed to be quite weak while his absorption ability was superior, thus he was not able to cross over two thirds; when he was able to master and refine the same volume of qi that was absorbed by his meridians he could finally reach the peak of tribulation peak and become the sect's inner disciple. 

    "A-hui is doing a good job, you will soon learn the secret of the peak of tribulation." Nie Huaisang coaxed the boy with a smile on his lips and a particular sparkle in his apricot eyes.  

    Of course, Nie Huaisang knew that in just a few days, Nie Zonghui would cross over to the main mountain with determination! From that point, it was a matter of months for him to start training him under Master Xinjian's tutelage. Thereafter, he would cultivate behind closed doors in the old man's abode until he was thirteen, in the last year of the campaign to strike down the sun where he would fight on the front lines at the hand of his father, Nie Yufeng. 

    The boy's lively and round face was dyed with a slight reddish cast and he nodded vigorously. 

    Nie Huaisang filled the teacup once more and drank the lukewarm liquid serenely. Nie Zonghui did not wait to be dismissed and voluntarily walked to the training ground. Once he drank the entire contents of the cup with a flick of the wrist, the servant behind him voluntarily approached.

    "Get my inkstone and brushes." He ordered lightly. "It's a beautiful weather for painting."

     Nie Huaisang painted for a long period. White sheets tinged with fluid brushstrokes, immense lakes, mountains and sinuous ranges. Lotus flowers seemed to sway in the breeze and water flowed around them. She rambled through his thoughts and pulled every line from his memory; He drew Yunmeng Lake so clearly that he could catch the fragrance of the lotuses on the tip of his tongue.

     When Nie Huaisang stopped the bold and precise movement of his wrist, he noticed that the sky had gradually darkened, the disciples had dissipated from the training yard, and even his servant had withdrawn. Painting was an extensive activity and required a high level of patience, which is why, those who knew of his habit in the sect voluntarily chose not to get in his way.  

     Only Nie Mingjue would force his younger brother to practice saber techniques and give up painting. 

     He approached the edge of the cliff and peered into the thick mist which, like a muslin cloak hid the view of the main mountain on the other side, was greeted by the outline of several long, heavy metal chains swaying in the wind; they were strategically hung between both cliffs and it looked quite precarious, at first glance it was intimidating and unpredictable, if you stood on it and it swayed too hard while trying to refine qi, you would fall straight into the void! 

      His being was filled with complicated feelings. 

      In his past life, Nie Huaisang was unable to cross this bridge between the two cliffs due to his weak constitution and defective core. 

     It wasn't until, two years after the siege of the burial mounds, that he forged enough determination to head up the main mountain. However, Nie Huaisang did not find the presence of Master Xinjian, who had passed away only a year earlier from Qi deviation. He found the scrolls and Nie cultivation techniques in the hidden underground library in Nie Binyue's residence, from there, he taught himself to strengthen his golden core. 

      The corner of his mouth twitched and with one fluid movement, he perched like a crane on the chain that swayed precariously on the currents of wind. He watched the silhouette of the mountains in the distance and was treading on the icy surface, steady on his two feet though the chain wriggled like a snake. The surrounding qi was like a heavy aura that weakened the stability of whoever tried to cross, Nie Huaisang did not attempt to refine the qi, but rather held his breath and ran across the bridge steadily, as if it were flat ground as the wind whipped through his hair. like a curtain 

     The length of the chain was substantial, and it was also not very stable, so the chance of falling into the void was too high. The Nie Sect trained disciples under pressure so that they would be able to refine a large volume of qi under the most adverse conditions. A set of arrays lay at the bottom of the mountain, so even if a disciple couldn't go any further and fell into the void, they would be sent by that set of spells back to the edge of the cliff. 

     Nie Huaisang landed on the edge of the cliff with a fluid movement like water. Hiding his snow-pale wrists in his wide sleeves, he looked up at the Tuoba* palace. The atmosphere of the peak was majestic and the palace was prominent but simple, there was a sweet scent of magnolias that permeated the air. 

    Under the diffused shadow of the white magnolias tinged with moonlight, a figure rested silently on the protruding roots in the ground. His dark garments contrasted elegantly with the clear light from the tree and his features remained neutral.

    A cold and hoarse voice suddenly spoke: "Little Young Master Nie."

Chapter Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 ; mdzs
chapter ten. master xinjian.

   A cold and hoarse voice suddenly spoke: "Little young master Nie."

    This person sitting quietly under the shade of the thousand-year-old magnolia tree covered in a bright moon-white cloak was dressed in a neat and elegant brocade robe. His features were extremely beautiful and sharp; his appearance was thin as a bamboo stick and he appeared to be about thirty years old. 

   It was indeed, Nie Binyue! 

    The pair of phoenix eyes stared back at him with an icy and noble air. 

   “You have cemented your golden core.” 

    Nie Binyue's side suddenly turned silent after saying that. 

    Naturally, Nie Huaisang recognized Master Xinjian's reason for curiosity. From a distance, this person had watched him cross the undulating chain like a snake through the icy wind and adversity swiftly using qinggong*. A feat that was already impossible for Nie Huaisang in that timeline due to his weak constitution and his low cultivation level.  

    With a glance, Nie Binyue was able to determine a cultivator's talent. He possessed the ability to determine the quality of the golden core and spiritual energy, for this reason, it was the responsibility of this person to determine the cultivation level of the disciples who entered the peak of the tribulation after condensing their core. This ability could vary; it was entirely dependent on Nie Binyue's perception and sharpness. 

    Evidently, Nie Binyue determined his potential once he had developed his golden core just four years before, but to his older brother's disappointment, Nie Huasiang's aptitude was not very outstanding and was rather despicable. The late condensation of his core was already a key determinant in the words he received from Nie Binyue at age twelve regarding his inability to cultivate to the level of the rest of the Nie disciples. 

    At that time Nie Huaisang felt no remorse for his inability to cultivate and used that to run away from his saber training, since he was unable to reach the level of an inner disciple, he would not bother reaching that of an outer disciple! 

     The icy wind shook the branches of the thousand-year-old magnolia tree, the soft fragrance of flowers swept over the peak and slid down the cliff. He immediately felt that he remained silent for too long lost in thought of him and hurried to properly greet this person. 

   "Greetings to Master Xinjian." Nie Huaisang cupped his palms and respectfully bowed to this high-ranking person. “I didn't mean to disturb Martial Uncle's night meditation.”

    Nie Binyue acknowledged his courtesy with a simple hum. 

    The Nie Sect kept Nie Binyue as sect master for interim disciples, who were required to address him as “shizun” , however, for the rest of the outside members, the title “martial uncle” was more suitable. The reason for this is because Nie Binyue was the most powerful cultivator in his sect, even Nie Mingjue had to respectfully address him as Master regardless of his sect leader position, since he was his direct disciple. 

   Originally Nie Binyue was the sworn brother of his paternal grandfather, Nie Xuanzi. The fresh and youthful appearance of him was due to the high level of cultivation that he possessed. Although he carried the surname Nie, this person was in fact not a Nie, rather he took the name of Nie once he established a brotherhood oath with his grandfather and honestly followed him into his sect by abandoning life. of him as a wandering cultivator. 

      Nie Binyue's temperament was always very aloof and cold. While the young disciples he trained used to contain the liveliness of youth, he preferred to cultivate behind closed doors at the peak of tribulation and did not associate more than strictly necessary with the sect members. He was always a very reclusive person and of few words but he was undoubtedly respected for his high level of cultivation and knowledge of the Nie Sect's techniques. 

    In his past life, Nie Huaisang was unable to cross the bridge between the two cliffs while Nie Binyue was alive, thus he never established a relationship with or dealt with the peak tribulation master. It wasn't until the death of his older brother, Nie Mingjue, that he improved his cultivation base and finally found his way to Tuoba Palace, however, Nie Binyue had already passed away by then. He had no choice but to break into this person's residence to delve into Tuoba Palace's underground library so that building a higher cultivation level and learning the sect's secret techniques would not be an obstacle for him. 

     “Come closer, little young master.” I speak evenly. Perhaps because he did not speak often, the tone of his voice was especially hoarse and low: "Let me take a look at your core." 

    Nie Huaisang deeply wanted to refuse at first, but since there was no reason for him to refuse Master Xinjian's instruction once he crossed the bridge to the peak of tribulation, he suppressed his discomfort and quickly relented. He walked over to the master sitting quietly under the magnolia tree and held out his frost-white wrist for inspection. 

    Nie Binyue's fingers clung to the tender flesh of her wrist, pressing two cold, pale fingers directly into his pulse. His strength was not overly suppressive, but Nie Huaisang did not dare to make a move and instead, he helplessly endured the master's review in silence. Abruptly, the pressure of a bloody domineering aura shook his meridians and Nie Binyue's spiritual energy flooded his veins, sharp pain running through his body from top to bottom. 

    Unexpectedly, his and Nie Binyue's spiritual energy intertwined!

   Nie Huaisang could not bear the excruciating pain concentrating on his lower abdomen, where his golden core was located so he released his wrist with a grim expression. The complexion of his body instantly turned pale and his temples were drenched in icy sweat. His own cultivation level was brutally pressured by Nie Binyue's domineering aura. 

   Initially, his spiritual energy should not have reacted with this person since the original intention was a cursory probe that could determine his talent as a cultivator, Nie Huaisang did not imagine that Nie Binyue would use his own spiritual energy to subdue his! 

    The exchange between both spiritual energies shook the foundations of his unstable cultivation, causing excruciating pain to run through his entire body. The difference between the two levels was definitely noticeable, while his was still inexperienced and untamed, Nie Binyue's was fierce and domineering. 

    In his past life, his cultivation level reached a higher level after he got his hands on the Nie Sect manuals hidden in the forbidden pavilion of the Tuoba Palace Library. His path was not entirely orthodox and he also did not practice with the saber in his lifetime, but he replicated some Nie cultivation methods in another way; Although his level was not comparable to cultivation geniuses like Nie Zonghui and Wei Wuxian, his abilities were indeed formidable. 

   Nie Binyue seemed unaffected by his sudden movement and gloomy expression at all, continuing to lie serenely under the tree, the faint fragrance of blooming magnolias permeating his robes and the cold wind tossing his fine, frost-white hair. This person was exceptionally beautiful, with clean and noble features, the corner of his mouth turned up, looking even more like an unattainable beauty. 

    “Martial uncle, is there something wrong with my golden core?” He asked weakly. 

  Nie Huaisang was no stranger to all sorts of beauties, but Master Xinjian seemed…too attractive and suspicious. He deeply regretted not establishing ties with this person in his past life, because Nie Binyue was a Nie cultivator who did not use a saber to fight would have been the most suitable master for his type of cultivation, unfortunately, Nie Huaisang did not care. increasing his cultivation rate until he had no choice but to use those means to quench the thirst for revenge on behalf of Nie Mingjue. 

    In this lifetime, his cultivation level forged from misfortune prevailed through the turbulent waves of rebirth, yet his spiritual energy was very unstable and vicious, like a bloody sea that was too deep. The golden core of her was still weak. It required a respectable cultivation to raise his mid level to upper level, even if he desperately cultivated to achieve symmetry between core and spiritual energy, it would only affect his body, since he was still young and his constitution was very weak, it could easily lead to a deviation from his premature qi. 

    Nie Binyue was even more beautiful with a smile carved at the corner of his mouth, although it was a slight glimpse, it made this person a peerless beauty, white as the moon in the clear sky. 

    “Your cultivation has undoubtedly improved, however, your core seems to be too weak for the amount of spiritual energy it refines.”

     Nie Huaisang: "!!!"

     Was this person able to discern his current cultivation with a glance?

Chapter Text

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 ; mdzs
chapter eleven. taking a master. 

   Nie Huaisang knew the current weakness of his core. If he cultivated carelessly, he might suffer qi deviation; his learning ability was also not very regular so he could only resort to unorthodox methods to raise his cultivation level. He carefully considered this master, this person had a clear ability to determine a cultivator's talent with a glance, and with a probe of his spiritual veins, his core comprehension increased!

     A master like Nie Binyue could help him reach levels that in his previous life were only far away for him. However, this meant that Nie Huaisang had to take this person as his master and perform the baishi* ceremony to receive personal teachings from him. Although he had crossed the bridge between the two cliffs and could consider himself an inner disciple, especially with Nie Binyue being the only witness to his qinggong prowess, he should not rush the understanding between the two of them.

    "Martial Uncle, is my core an impediment to my cultivation?" Knowing the answer, he hid her wrists in his flowing sleeves, lying in front of Master Xinjian with a face curved in worry. "My qinggong is still inexperienced but firm, however, my control of spiritual energy is negligible, I beg master for instruction from him."

     Nie Huaisang seriously thought about hiding the truth, but this person was not naive and it was inevitable that he would ignore the situation of his uneven level, since Nie Binyue did not hide his intent to discipline, then Nie Huaisang would not be polite and openly ask for it.

     Although he consumed all the manuscripts and cultivation manuals resident in the library pavilion, it was incomparable to the direct instruction of the master who personally crafted them with the help of his grandfather, Nie Xuanzi. These were indeed the sect's fortune and were jealously guarded by the palace master. Nie Huaisang accessing them in his past life was solely due to the untimely passing of Nie Binyue and his da-ge.

     Nie Binyue seemed to think deeply about the answer, before opening her mouth to say, “Your core is no impediment, little Nie.”

     The brevity of his answer shocked him, in the midst of a shameful stupor, the wind loaded with the sweet fragrance of the blooming magnolias shook his hair. Nie Huaisang watched in delight as the pair of eyes of him like two Binyue inkwells curved like two crescents as he smiled more broadly.

     "Shouldn't the young master better know what I'm trying to say?" With a mischievous expression, Binyue tilted his chin. “Xiao Nie, your spiritual veins seem to have superior capacity, while your golden core is still incompetent at refining the amount of energy your meridians naturally store. Find the balance between your core and meridians so that the refining capacity doesn't exceed your spiritual veins and vice versa. This already seemed to be your knowledge, otherwise, you would not have crossed the bridge to meet me."

    Nie Huaisang nodded silently, shocked at how quickly Nie Binyue read the current state of his body, remorselessly replied, “Master is correct, this lowly one dare not feign innocence.”

     Nie Binyue was an end person to him, cunning and silent!

   "Martial Uncle, my condition is particular, I'm afraid. Orthodox cultivation techniques will not allow me to bridge the gap between the two abilities, for this reason, I beg Master Xinjian to take me in and instruct me."

    Nie Binyue looked at him through her phoenix eyes with a solemn expression.

    Even now, standing in front of this person, Nie Huaisang's heart has not stopped beating frantically. Somehow, Nie Binyue's approval meant that he would obtain the master's forbidden techniques from him, he just needed to be accepted by him. It was a reasonable and proper request, Nie Binyue seemed especially interested in his particular condition, he did not intend to hide the nature of his spiritual energy. However, even if this person became his shifu, Nie Huaisang would not talk about the story behind the incongruity between his spiritual veins and his golden core.

    In this life, he will build his talent on the ashes of his original cultivation.

    Nie Huaisang thought of this and visibly relaxed. He was willing to take Nie Binyue as his master and even perform a baishi ceremony, but would this master be pleased to accept such a troublesome and difficult-to-raise direct disciple? Normally, internal and direct disciples were accepted by the master at an early age so that shaping his talents and cultivation was gradual. Nie Huaisang surpassed the maximum age to be accepted as any kind of disciple in his sect.

    Training a mature youth was incomparably more challenging. If he didn't possess a spirit root yet, then forging one would be tedious, if he possessed it, it would be tedious to forge it to the level of cultivation that master instructed.

    Nie Binyue ignored his offer lightly. He caught a white magnolia blossom in his blond hands, rubbing his thumb on the petals wet with night dew. He looked especially charming under the moon hanging in the sky and the delicate flower in his grasp, like a gentleman.

    "Xiao Nie." He spoke quietly, a pale shadow lighting up his phoenix eyes. “Even if this master is willing to raise you, is the young master willing to honestly take me as his master?

    This person was, in fact, able to read it with a cursory glance!

    The silence was deafening, the icy breeze shook her hair. Ink and frost danced on the wind.

   Nie Huaisang's face was partially covered by his locks. His lovely features dazzling against the pale moonlight. Both of her eyes, apricots suffused with a hint of mischief, curved with obvious intent and a gleam of cunning. Nie Binyue twitched the corner of his mouth, acknowledging this person as his equal to him silently from him.

    "Since master has mentioned it, this humble one will convey his true feelings." The tassel hanging from his waist fluttered, and the attached pearl shone elegantly. “This one has never taken a master. However, the martial uncle is suddenly suitable for my special condition, as I do not wish to cultivate the resentful energy of fierce spirits with a saber, nor cultivate orthodoxly with a jian. My constitution is naturally weak, these kinds of weapons…are incompatible with this one. I will take hidden weapons and cultivate with them, if the master is willing, instruct this disciple with his skill."

    Nie Binyue listened intently, not seeming particularly affected by the fact that Nie Huaisang had knowledge of Nie's true cultivation method. This matter was not a secret from the sect members, however, Nie Mingjue deeply concealed this fact from his younger brother. Acting disciples were forbidden to mention the sect's techniques in his presence, which is why, in his past life, Nie Huaisang had no knowledge of the reason behind the Qi deviation from his da-ge.

    It wasn't until he got his hands on the sect cultivation manuals in the master's palace pavilion that he taught himself Nie sect cultivation. The Nie cultivated the grudged energy coming from grudged beasts and spirits through the saber, this cultivation tool was specially forged for that purpose. After this, Nie Huaisang delved further into cultivating and killing his da-ge, self-absorbed in revenge. Even so, he flatly refused to cultivate through the saber and instead, he forged hidden weapons for himself.

    Unexpectedly, these types of weapons were much more suitable for him! In the eyes of the cultivation world, Nie Huaisang was an inept and despicable sect leader; a Nie who never carried a saber properly and relied on his disciples for his protection because his cultivation was extremely inferior.

    “Hidden weapons…” Nie Binyue thought about these words with interest. "What type do you expect to employ for his cultivation, young master? Even if this master takes you as his disciple, hidden weapons are not very common, my knowledge of them is not too deep."

    "This humble one wishes to learn how to manipulate a wide range of hidden weapons, however, orthodox sects practice only the jian. Even now, we are the only sect in the world that cultivates with the dao*, this one understands that the master possesses knowledge limited about these weapons. My interest in becoming your disciple lies in your teachings to reach the threshold in my cultivation, Master Xinjian should not worry about this little thing."

   Nie Binyue once again listened intently, slightly knitting his brows with a gloomy expression. Nie Huaisang sealed his lips immediately. Considering that this person could influence his growth as an unorthodox cultivator and greatly increase his spiritual growth rate, he was not allowed to challenge him. He could only depend on the affinity between the two of them being cultivators who dispensed with the use of the dao* and cultivated their own way.

     "I will take you as a teacher honestly through the baishi ceremony. In this life, only Master Xinjian will hear me call you Master."

     Thus, master and disciple stared at each other. There was no need for words, in that instant, two pairs of cunning eyes observed each other warily. Nie Binyue straightened his back and his snow-white hair clustered on his shoulders, without any ornamentation on his head he was more like a night creature. Even in silence, Nie Binyue gave off a distant and noble aura.

    "Since xiao Nie is willing to take me as a teacher, this excellence will not prevent it."

    "Master, you are free to call me more familiar." Nie Huaisang smiled sweetly. "This time, even if I am willing to take you as my master right away, the baishi ceremony must be carried out discreetly. My da.ge need not have knowledge of our relationship."

   Nie Binyue heard these words and agreed that it was sensible. Nie Mingjue did not need to understand the state between the two of them. Especially knowing that Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue would become martial brothers under the same master. Since he had taken the initiative to mention it, Nie Binyue will not ignore it.

    "This excellence will take it into account."

    After this statement, Nie Huaisang caught his breath and continued, “Is master willing to receive my respect as his new disciple with a more intimate baishi ceremony?”

    Nie Huaisang couldn't help but let this question slip away.

    Since the master had agreed to keep the status of their new master/disciple relationship a secret, his actions would demonstrate reciprocity and honesty. From then on, Nie Huaisang would treat Nie Binyue as his master. This type of ceremony was simple and since he had agreed to take him in as his direct disciple, he was to honor the master by prostrating himself before him, offering a suitable gift and sharing a cup of tea brewed with his own hands with his shifu. .

    Hearing this question, Nie Binyue nodded with his palms resting on his knees and his mouth slightly curved. His facial expressions seemed very limited, yet they were very beautiful and charming.

    Nie Huaisang regretted not having dealt with this beauty in his past life! Being a fan of beauty, be it objects or people, an outstanding figure like Nie Binyue ticked all the boxes for him. Having him as his shifu was a joy.

    Beautiful people, in particular, were a hobby of Nie Huaisang. Recalling the beauty of his past, as fuzzy lines of ink on paper, a glimpse of a pair of stern eyes and graceful yet sword-sharp features flashed in his memory, abruptly, his chest contracted. He inhaled against the overwhelming pain and smiled curving the corners of his mouth, his two eyes like juicy apricots looking especially alluring when his youthful features glowed in the dim glow of the moon hanging in the sky.

    "Since I have become your master without the presence of other people, the baishi ceremony should also not be observed by other people. This excellency agrees that you honor the master in privacy."

    "He understood the disciple."

    The night sky was tinged with white clouds that, like frosted cotton, glided like soft waves. Nie Huaisang was looking at him with deep apricot eyes that sparkled like a starry ocean. His sleeves flow in the wind as he clasps their hands in a deep curtsy, long, thick inky hair billowing to his shoulders.

     His appearance is sweet and his mouth is eloquent as he promises with an iron domineering intent: "In this life, only you deserve to be called a master. From now on, this disciple will obey your instructions; he will follow you for a lifetime. As long as the master be willing, I will follow you. Even if tomorrow is tedious and heavy as ten thousand jin, I will follow you. In return, master, grant me your wisdom."