112 Turning a Blind Eye

“Wait a moment!”

Qingyu Dongfang turned his head, and I stepped beside him.

“Mufeng will always be your son. Without you, both he and I would have perished long ago. You deserve to hear him call you ‘father.’”

“All right.”

Suddenly, Qingyu Dongfang pulled me into his embrace.

“What are you doing...?”

“Don’t move...”

After a long while, Qingyu Dongfang released me and walked away. His words still echoed in my ears.

“Do whatever you want; if the sky falls, I will be there.”

His figure faded before my eyes. If I had not met Lie Yexuan first, nor encountered Yun Heng afterward, but instead met Qingyu Dongfang, perhaps history would have rewritten itself entirely.

Back inside the inner room, I lay down holding Mufeng.

He slept soundly, as if sensing my presence, pressing himself desperately into my arms.

I often stole glances at him, feeling a quiet contentment just by looking at this little one. Mufeng’s arrival brought me much solace, though the wish to care for one’s parents when they are gone finally made me understand a mother’s heart. Yet, my own mother was no longer here. Perhaps our bonds of parentage were pitifully thin—once gone, they could not be retrieved.

At night, I often watched Mufeng with fear deep in my heart. What would become of him if one day I were to leave? Only I know the state of my body. After five years, it has gradually been drained. Afu began preparing medicinal broths for me, but I could not bear to tell her that none of it would help.

Would Mufeng like Lie Yexuan if he ever met him? I do not know. Everything must follow its natural course; forcing anything serves no purpose. Half of Mufeng’s blood comes from Lie Yexuan—I cannot change that.

That night, I pondered deeply, gazing through the entire night at the little one in my arms, as if I could never tire of looking at him in this lifetime.

Two days later, everyone had gathered on the island—Adi, Guteng, Qingyu Dongfang, Afu and Aling, and the Twelve Assassins. Although the Twelve Assassins had become the Mingwei, removing their masks revealed their black-clad forms. Seeing us, they showed a trace of embarrassment.

“This is what you asked for,” Guteng handed me a mask.

Hair fell over my forehead, covering my left eye, while the mask was designed to cover my right. My hair was tied high at the back, and I wore simple, unadorned attire.

“Once you leave the island, only the Pavilion Master is to be here, understood?”

“Understood!”

Stepping onto the boat, the island’s folk sent us off with heartfelt farewells.

“Mufeng, remember this will always be your home.” The little head nodded, half understanding.

The blue sky was exceptionally serene. Since arriving at Lingyun Island five years ago, I had not stepped beyond it, greedily gazing at the scenery beyond.

Lie Yexuan, how have you been?

I asked the sky in silence, but no one answered.

“Mother... look... there are fish...”

Though he was already five, I had not protected Mufeng well during pregnancy. His stature was smaller than most five-year-olds, and his voice was sweeter.

“Has mother ever told you what your name will be when you leave this island?”

“Mufeng.”

“Good boy.”

Hearing my praise, he shifted restlessly in Qingyu Dongfang’s arms, only settling when I kissed his cheek.

Qingyu Dongfang was so close it made us both bashful. I turned and walked toward the ship’s cabin.

“Godfather, why is mother blushing?”

“Must be the heat.”

“Is the sea breeze really that warm? Is mother sick?”

“...”

Soon, our group reached Tiantong Mountain. Tiantong Mountain was vast with countless peaks and served as the junction of the three kingdoms—a lawless zone. Four years ago, according to my plan, Fantian Pavilion’s main base on the Central Plains was set here. Halfway up the mountain stood a lofty palace, as if descended from the heavens.

The palace was white and elegant, surrounded by countless people welcoming us.

I, Guteng, Adi, and Qingyu Dongfang each wore a different palace jade at our waists, symbols of our status.

“Welcome, Pavilion Master,” resounded a loud voice echoing through the mountains, startling birds and beasts. Countless disciples of Fantian Pavilion knelt on one knee to greet us. Though I had thought such ceremony unnecessary, for Mufeng’s future and to provide Adi a solid backing, it was indeed needed.

“Hold mother’s hand tightly, okay?”

“Okay.”

I took Mufeng’s hand and walked at the front. Behind us walked Guteng, Qingyu Dongfang, and Adi Huangfu Zijun side by side. Then came the formidable Twelve Assassins, and finally Afu and Aling.

Upon entering Fantian Pavilion, four people knelt before me, one knee down.

“Your humble servants welcome the Pavilion Master.”

Three men and one woman, obviously the Four Envoys of Fantian Pavilion—experts recruited by Qingyu Dongfang from the Central Plains. Skilled in martial arts and cunning, they had sworn loyalty three years ago.

“Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise. I have been away from the Central Plains for years. Thank you all for your hard work,” I said softly, recognizing them by the jade on their waists.

“The Pavilion Master is too polite.”

“Confident and poised, just as expected from Fantian Pavilion’s people. Good eye,” I glanced at Qingyu Dongfang, rewarding him with a look.

“Of course,” Qingyu Dongfang smiled, breaking the solemn atmosphere.

Everything inside the pavilion went smoothly. In just three days, Afu and Aling managed almost all the trivial affairs, while Adi constantly followed Guteng and Qingyu Dongfang around, familiarizing himself with Fantian Pavilion’s various dealings. This made Mufeng pout and cling to me; only I refused to go out, preferring to nestle in this otherworldly paradise. In just three days, the pavilion master’s cold and aloof temperament had spread throughout the mountain.

As usual, I took the guqin and came to the mountainside to play. My late father once invited a master to teach me, but I never studied earnestly. Now, my heart had changed, and I grew fond of it, playing with profound skill, often learning from nature itself.

Thanks to the beautiful back mountains of Fantian Pavilion, my artistry was inspired.

Yet, my restless heart could not produce elegant melodies. Suppressing my turmoil, my fingers moved faster on the strings, the tones growing discordant.

Why could such a beautiful utopia not calm my soul? Why was I so irritable?

“Zijun...”

“Bang...”

Qingyu Dongfang’s voice and the sound of a broken string echoed simultaneously. I abruptly withdrew my fingers but was caught by Qingyu Dongfang’s swift advance.

A red mark lined my slender fingers, reddening Qingyu Dongfang’s eyes.

“Did you bring a handkerchief?”

“Yes.”

I handed it over, and silently he wrapped the wound. “Zijun, you are too restless. You shouldn’t touch the guqin.”

“I understand.”

“If you’re worried, then go out and see for yourself.”

“I...”

“No need to worry. With me here, you will be safe. You can’t hide in your own world forever. For five years, you acted for your brother and your son, but have you ever thought of yourself? A trip out is no big deal.”

“Qingyu, thank you.”

Qingyu Dongfang circled his arm around my waist, using lightness skill to carry me down the mountain.

By then, I had changed into a white dress. The mountain breeze stirred my hems and scattered hair, intertwining with Qingyu Dongfang’s.

His large hand rested on my waist; my hand lay on his chest, like a celestial being descending. Qingyu Dongfang lacked Lie Yexuan’s seductive charm; instead, he was truly like a gentle spring breeze.

“Ah, I forgot I have a son. What to do?”

“Don’t worry, I will take good care of him.”

At the foot of the mountain, Qingyu Dongfang and I mounted horses. Thanks to Tiantong Mountain’s unique geography, we quickly entered the territory of the Moonlight Kingdom and headed straight to Prince Xuan’s mansion. It was already nightfall upon arrival.

I fretted over how to scale the walls of the mansion, a place where I had once lived. Relying on memory, I found a spot presumed to be less crowded. Suddenly, a firm grip tightened at my waist as Qingyu Dongfang led me inside.

“You’re inviting the secret guards; be careful. The people here are skilled in martial arts,” Qingyu Dongfang whispered in my ear. I nodded and directed him to Lie Yexuan’s residence, but found no one there.

“Are you sure Lie Yexuan lives here? There shouldn’t be anyone.”

“I know the place,” I said, pointing to the nearby Qingran Residence.

A gust of wind, and Qingyu Dongfang and I landed atop a large tree outside Qingran Residence. Inside, every sound reached my ears.

Lie Yexuan’s cough was terribly severe.

“Your Highness, you should rest,” said Shimo, one of Lie Yexuan’s attendants.

“I will rest here tonight.”

“You just woke, your body is still weak. I will serve you here. Master Kong will arrive tomorrow.”

“Damn it, who told him?”

“Your Highness, I couldn’t bear to watch you like this and secretly notified Master Kong. You listen to no one but him. What about the Emperor? He’s still so young. What about the entire Moonlight Kingdom...”

“Leave now…”

Shimo withdrew, wiping tears as he closed the door.

“Let’s go in and see,” Qingyu Dongfang’s voice pulled me back. My hand was still tightly gripping his arm.

“Sorry, I hurt you.”

“Not going in?”

“No, he’s already awake...”

“Who! Who’s outside?”

We were discovered. Qingyu Dongfang remarked, “I thought he’d be less vigilant because of his illness.”

Soon, a crowd gathered beneath us.

Qingyu Dongfang caught me in his arms. Facing away from Lie Yexuan, I buried my head in Qingyu Dongfang’s chest as we descended from the tree.

“Regent Prince, long time no see,” Qingyu Dongfang’s lazy voice sounded, yet he showed no intention of letting me go. I was already sweating profusely; without looking back, I knew how burning the gaze behind us was.