The sword energy, vast as an ocean, tore through the void, dyeing the sky in a silvery hue.
For miles around, startled birds took flight, and beasts scattered in panic.
High in the air, the atmosphere among the trio at the center of attention was subtly tense.
Qin Donglin glanced at the jade-like fingers wrapped around his wrist, his phoenix eyes half-lidded as his voice dripped with unmistakable impatience: "One stick of incense’s time. Speak."
Qiu Shi had heard this phrase no less than a hundred, if not a thousand, times before.
Qin Donglin was a cultivation fanatic, and the affairs of Liugi Mountain kept him endlessly busy. When occupied, he became harder to track down than even Song Yunhe. Yet somehow, Qiu Shi always managed to pinpoint his location with uncanny accuracy.
Whenever he was spinning like a top with work, the sight of Song Qiushi would make Qin Donglin’s brow twitch involuntarily—a reflex honed over time.
In such moments, Qiu Shi had two tried-and-true methods to handle him.
The first was to play the obedient fool, shadowing him wherever he went without a word. She’d sit quietly beside him, reading or painting, enduring his neglect until she couldn’t take it anymore—then she’d let out a soft cough or two to remind him of her presence.
The second was to embrace her true nature as a troublemaker, clinging and pestering him with her usual excuses—headaches, injuries—until the last shred of his patience wore thin. Soon enough, he’d toss the ledger in his hands onto the table, pinch the bridge of his nose, and snap, "You have one stick of incense. Say what you need to say and leave."
The matters Qiu Shi brought up with such persistence weren’t necessarily difficult, but they were always the kind that tested one’s patience to the limit.
Qin Donglin had once faced off against three young Celestial Princes in the icy depths of a secret realm—not over treasures or ancient manuals, but because the infamous troublemaker of their side, Qiu Shi, had clashed with the equally notorious troublemaker of the Celestial Clan.
Incidents like these were countless. One day, she’d covet the ghost lanterns of Yedu, the next, she’d set her sights on the dragon pearl of the Eastern Sea.
But none of them compared to the absurdity of this latest affair.
Qin Donglin watched her coldly, waiting to see what outrageous story she’d spin this time.
By now, the entire area around the central spire was alight with flickering lanterns, dotting the landscape like glowing fireflies dancing over a dark lake.
"Let’s go to Baitang Courtyard," Qiu Shi said after scanning the surroundings, then turned to Song Yunhe. "Brother, leave this to you."
Song Yunhe nodded in acknowledgment.
Baitang Courtyard wasn’t far from Dongheng Courtyard, where Cheng Yi resided. The two slashes Qin Donglin had earlier unleashed toward Dongheng Courtyard had rippled outward, triggering the protective barrier around Baitang Courtyard. While the pavilions and towers within remained untouched, the release of the Posa Sword—an ancient sacred artifact—had stirred the small lake in the western courtyard into a churning frenzy, bubbles roiling like boiling water.
Qiu Shi and Qin Donglin entered the lakeside pavilion one after the other. The former gently brushed aside the fluttering curtains and stretched her hand over the water, her delicate fingers splayed. A cool, soothing surge of spiritual energy spread across the surface, calming the turbulent currents until the lake lay still once more.
Qin Donglin leaned against the pavilion’s railing, his tall figure exuding an air of lazy impatience, his presence oppressive.
"Donglin," Qiu Shi called, unusually cautious, her tone laced with hesitation.
This time, she hadn’t used his full name.
"Speak." His pale fingers tapped against the red-lacquered railing, his voice frigid, giving no ground.
Qiu Shi stepped closer, brushing her nosebridge nervously before hesitantly adding, "Donglin-ge."
Qin Donglin inhaled sharply through his nose. "Song Qiushi." His gaze swept over her like a blade. "Cut the nonsense."
Ming Yue entered with tea, bowed respectfully, then discreetly withdrew.
Qiu Shi fidgeted before sitting down at a careful distance from him, gathering her thoughts. "I only found out two days ago how badly the rumors had spread. Father and Brother investigated yesterday and discovered most of the exaggerated tales were propagated by spies from the Celestial Clan."
Qin Donglin let out a derisive snort, his dark eyes brimming with mockery, as if the words "Song Qiushi, do you take me for a fool?" were written plainly across his face.
Before he could retort, Qiu Shi raised a hand and continued, "It’s true that I brought Cheng Yi to the main city and looked after him."
"But there’s a reason for it."
She outlined the whole story, omitting some details but leaving enough for clarity. When she finished, Qin Donglin remained silent—neither accepting nor rejecting her explanation. The quiet between them grew heavy.
Qiu Shi couldn’t bear the tension.
She peeked up at him, then quickly averted her gaze, stumbling through the rehearsed apology she’d prepared: "Anyway, no matter how you look at it… I was in the wrong this time."
Since birth, Qiu Shi had been doted upon like the moon cradled by stars. Those of lower status deferred to her, while even figures like Song Yunhe, Qin Donglin, and Wu Fei—despite their own high positions—had indulged her whims under their elders’ orders, overlooking even her most outrageous antics.
Qin Donglin was terrifying—just a frown or a cold tone could send noble ladies from across the realms fleeing, despite his flawless features as a member of the Nine-Tailed Silver Fox Clan.
Yet Song Qiushi was the only one who never shrank from him—and, on rare occasions, even managed to boss him around.
They were close. During trials in unknown secret realms, if the group ever split up, Qiu Shi would inevitably trail behind Qin Donglin, leaving even her own brother, Song Yunhe, behind.
She’d dragged him into countless messes, gotten him punished, and even when they were made to sweep the ancestral hall together, she’d unrepentantly divided the tasks, treating it as a shared hardship between future cultivation partners—without an ounce of guilt.
Qin Donglin closed his eyes briefly. This was, indeed, the very first time she’d ever apologized.
All because of a black-scaled dragon.
Her apology only poured oil onto the fire.
"...I shouldn’t have caused such a stir while you were searching for the dragon pearl for me."
When he still didn’t respond, she tugged lightly at his sleeve, her voice dropping into a mumble that bordered on coaxing. "It was a life debt. How could I ignore him when I saw him in danger?"
"You have no idea how close it was—you almost lost me."
She pinched the tip of her finger, holding it up before his eyes. "Just this much."
"Even Brother went to thank him afterward."
Every time he saw Qiu Shi, Qin Donglin’s eyelid twitched more in a single day than it had in years without her.
He pressed a long, slender finger to his throbbing temple, the knuckle protruding sharply, his voice laced with a cold, mocking laugh: "Are you suggesting I should thank him?"
Qiu Shi quietly released her grip and muttered under her breath in a huff: "I never said you had to thank him."
Qin Donglin stood up, his dark pupils reflecting her tiny figure. "The rumor about you liking him—is it true?"
"And the one about you breaking off the engagement because of him—is that true too?"
He could accept Song Qiushi calling off their engagement, but not for such a reason.
Lately, countless prodigies who had once lost to him had seized the opportunity to send him mocking "condolences." Even the three aloof elites of the Celestial Clan, who usually buried themselves in cultivation and never meddled in others' affairs, had broken their usual silence to reach out, eager to witness the spectacle.
A cuckold—this was a scenario he had never imagined, so absurd it almost made him scoff in disbelief.
Qiu Shi’s fingertips curled unconsciously. After running through countless explanations in her mind, along with picturing Qin Donglin’s possible reactions, she decided to be honest.
"I did say those things."
Her voice was unusually hesitant as she looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "But it was just anger talking."
Under Qin Donglin’s tense gaze, her voice grew smaller and smaller:
"I regretted it right after."
Since they were children, before they’d even formed their own opinions, they had known they were different from others—destined to be the most important person in each other’s lives.
Whether she fell, got hurt, caused trouble, or coveted something, Qiu Shi’s first instinct had always been to turn to Qin Donglin.
She didn’t understand the "heart-fluttering" or "love at first sight" described in romance novels, but there was no doubt that Qin Donglin was someone irreplaceable to her.
She could sense it—even the more obsessive, extreme version of herself in her dreams had regretted those words the moment they left her mouth.
In the brief silence, Qin Donglin’s gaze darkened. After a long pause, he let out a quiet "Hm," barely sparing her another glance, as if he’d just completed a perfunctory task. He strode out of the pavilion, stepping into the void as his figure dissolved into the mist.
Qin Donglin knew Song Qiushi too well.
Right now, she might be acting cautious and meek, but the moment his expression softened even slightly, or if he so much as muttered "I believe you," she’d instantly switch gears—stretching out her hand without shame and demanding, "So, did you find my dragon core yet?"
Watching him leave without another word, Qiu Shi couldn’t tell if he’d actually believed her.
But… if he wasn’t going back to beat someone up, then he probably wasn’t that angry anymore, right?
Steeped in years of sword intent, Qin Donglin exuded a sharp, cutting aura from head to toe. Even his slender back seemed capable of slashing through one’s consciousness with just a glance.
Suddenly, the phrase "Demon Lord Qin Donglin" flashed through Qiu Shi’s mind again.
"Wait."
She lifted the hem of her skirt and jogged after him.
Qin Donglin had already stepped into the spatial rift when her voice made him pause. Frowning, he turned back—only to see her tilting her petite face up to his and asking, "Qin Donglin, you haven’t turned into a demon yet, have you?"
His temple throbbed violently again.
He must have been insane to instinctively turn around for this.
With a darkened expression, Qin Donglin strode into the rift without another glance.
======
Thanks to Song Yunhe’s deliberate containment, Qin Donglin’s midnight raid on the main city didn’t cause too much of a stir.
That same night, over twenty spies were uncovered among the hundreds of attendants and guards stationed across the main city’s courtyards. The overseer of the Dark Prison took charge, interrogated them, crushed their souls, and sent the remnants back to their respective clans in cheap soul-preserving jade.
The streets of the main city fell eerily quiet after that.
The next day, Qiu Shi and Song Chengshu set off for Lin'an City.
As if expecting their arrival, Ruan Yuan had tea prepared in her courtyard, along with a towering platter of Qiu Shi’s favorite immortal fruits, their vibrant red hue a cheerful sight.
"Auntie Ruan."
Faced with the woman who had doted on her like her own child since childhood, Qiu Shi felt an uncharacteristic pang of nervousness.
Ruan Yuan had the dignified, composed beauty of a seasoned matriarch, her every word and gesture radiating quiet authority.
At the sight of Qiu Shi, her eyes curved warmly. "Little Shi, you’re here?"
She studied the girl closely before smiling. "Even prettier than before."
Qiu Shi beamed, her eyes sparkling like stars.
"Brother Song."
Ruan Yuan nodded at Song Chengshu and gestured gracefully. "Please, have a seat."
With the adults about to discuss the mess she’d caused, Qiu Shi fidgeted uncomfortably.
Luckily, Ruan Yuan noticed her unease and patted her hand gently. "Today, over a dozen treasure pavilions in the city are holding a joint auction. Xiao Wu loves these events, so she dragged Donglin out early this morning."
She pulled a token from her sleeve and pressed it into Qiu Shi’s palm. "Go join them. Buy whatever catches your eye."
Song Chengshu nodded in approval but added sternly, "Xiao Wu and Donglin are our guests. Don’t go dragging them into your mischief again."
Once Qiu Shi left, Song Chengshu rose and bowed deeply to Ruan Yuan, sighing. "This time, Qinhai City has wronged Liugi Mountain."
Ruan Yuan sidestepped his gesture, her smile strained. "I’ve heard about Donglin’s reckless intrusion last night. That child is too impulsive—breaking into the main city and nearly resorting to violence. Please forgive his disregard for protocol."
Their eyes met, both faces etched with resignation.
"Brother Song, we’ve known each other for millennia. Let’s skip the formalities."
Ruan Yuan gestured for him to sit. "We should focus on the children. You came today precisely for this, yes?"
Song Chengshu nodded, cutting straight to the point. "What is Liugi Mountain’s stance?"
"Brother Song," Ruan Yuan began, her brow furrowing slightly. "I’ve watched Little Shi grow up. She’s like my own, and I know her temperament. She wouldn’t act so rashly without reason."
"Have you asked her why?"
Song Chengshu recounted Qiu Shi’s explanation and the facts he’d verified.
Ruan Yuan listened intently, her tension easing only after he finished.
"Brother Song, to be frank, Donglin is the only heir Qin Yue and I have—Liugi Mountain’s sole successor. The elders place immense expectations on him."
"The rumors this time… were unsavory. The clan is in an uproar, and the elders are at each other’s throats."
Song Chengshu, as a ruler himself, understood the unspoken implications all too well.
Long before his arrival, the solution to this matter had already settled firmly in his mind.
—Both Qinhai City and Liugi Mountain would issue simultaneous denials: Song Qiushi and Qin Donglin were merely childhood friends who grew up together, and beyond that, none of the other relationships speculated by outsiders existed.
Though the intention of an alliance through marriage between the two clans was something any discerning eye in the Six Realms could see, it had never been publicly acknowledged. Thus, it could be dissolved as easily as it had been proposed.
Ruan Yuan set down her teacup and remained silent for a long while before finally speaking, her tone light and amiable, as if offering a gentle suggestion: "Brother Song, back when Donglin and Xiao Shi were young, we arranged their betrothal for the sake of the demon realm’s stability, hoping the younger generation would carry forward the bonds of our friendship. Now that they’ve grown and matured, must we interfere again to dissolve their engagement?"
After Song Chengshu left, a round-faced maidservant—who had served Ruan Yuan long enough to dare voice her confusion—stepped forward to clear the tea set. "Madam, the clan is in such an uproar over the Young Master’s affairs. Why did you refuse the proposal from the City Lord of Qinhai?"
After all, before coming here, their prearranged solution had also been to annul the engagement.
Ruan Yuan gazed at the distant emerald greenery, twirling a delicate spirit-jade cup in her fingers. With a faint smile, she asked, "Tell me, does our Young Master have a pleasant temperament?"
The maidservant hesitated, not daring to answer.
Unperturbed, Ruan Yuan chuckled and pressed on, "Then, is he foolish?"
The maidservant shook her head emphatically.
Standing up, the white dress draping her slender frame, Ruan Yuan sighed softly. "If he weren’t a fool, why would he storm into the main city with the Posa Sword, injuring others and handing our adversaries the moral high ground?"
What should have been a justified matter had now turned into an unjust one.
