Chapter Three: Stirring Emotions, Unnamed Feelings

Someone was knocking at the door. Qinglan’s eyes flew open, a chill radiating from her as the room grew instantly cold. But realizing she was in the mortal world, she quickly drew back her icy aura, got out of bed, and opened the door. Standing there was Xiao Qingyue, dressed in pale pink robes, a maid at her side, her face full of concern.

“Qinglan, I just felt a sudden chill in the air. Are you alright? Do you need another layer?”

“No, I’m not cold. Where’s Xiao Cangyi?” Qinglan asked, her fondness for his face so deep she wished she could gaze at him every day.

“My brother’s still in his room. Why, are you looking for him?”

“Yes, I’ve bought everything I wanted, and now there’s only one thing left: admiring your brother’s striking face. Such unparalleled beauty—how could I ever get enough? Who knows when I’ll see him again?” Qinglan pressed her finger to her chin, lost in thought.

“If you marry my brother, you could see him every day…” Xiao Qingyue mumbled softly, but Qinglan, still pondering, didn't hear her.

“I want to see Xiao Cangyi. Qingyue, will you take me?” Qinglan suddenly declared after a moment's thought.

“Of course, nothing could be better,” Xiao Qingyue replied, though her mind was elsewhere. Brother, this is as far as your little sister can help you. The rest is up to you—don’t let this chance slip by.

Xiao Qingyue led Qinglan through several twists and turns before arriving at Xiao Cangyi’s quarters. She knocked, but there was no response. After a while, the door finally opened—Xiao Cangyi himself appeared.

He wore moon-white robes embroidered with subtle patterns in white silk, his hair half down, yesterday’s jade crown replaced by a jade hairpin, two locks of dark hair left artfully over his forehead. He looked even more refined and elegant than before, leaving Qinglan momentarily entranced by his otherworldly beauty.

“Jinhan, as usual,” Xiao Cangyi instructed as he walked, nearly at the courtyard gate before Qinglan snapped out of her daze and hurried after him.

“Xiao Cangyi, where are you going? Why aren’t you taking me?” Qinglan complained, feeling slighted since they were already well acquainted.

“My lord is going out to heal the sick. It wouldn’t be appropriate to bring a young lady along,” Jinhan replied in his master’s stead.

“But I can heal people too! Let me come,” Qinglan blurted out, forgetting that her own healing relied on divine power, and altering someone’s fate could bring about a backlash, just as it had when she saved that woman before.

“Brother, Qinglan can heal too. Why not let her go with you?” Xiao Qingyue chimed in, eager to play matchmaker.

“And if I refuse, little sister, what then?” Xiao Cangyi raised an eyebrow.

“Then I’ll pester you, act all spoiled, and I’ll keep at it until you agree.”

“Fine, fine, I can’t take that. I’ll agree. Will you come along, then?”

“I’ll stay. I want to keep Father and Mother company,” Xiao Qingyue said, hastily taking her leave and leaving the two of them alone.

The pair exited the residence, one ahead of the other, their silhouettes a perfect match. Their carriage rolled through the bustling Idle Joy Street, nearing the end where the “Redeeming Hall” medical clinic stood.

This was his family’s clinic, where he attended to patients with Jinhan’s assistance. While Xiao Cangyi treated the sick, Qinglan simply admired his handsome face from the side.

At the entrance to the clinic, three figures appeared. The man in the center wore fine brocade, gold thread tracing subtle patterns across his robes. A coronet rested on his head, a dragon-engraved pendant at his waist—a sign of noble birth. Yet his face was pale, and he leaned heavily on his guards.

Seeing the crowd and pressed for time, one of the guards stepped forward. “This is my young master. He’s been poisoned and cannot wait much longer. We’ve traveled far, drawn by the famed physician’s reputation. I beg you to save him.”

Xiao Cangyi approached, extending his hand to check the man’s pulse. Qinglan’s eyes never left him, wishing she could fix her gaze upon his face forever.

“This poison is the world’s most unusual—‘Nether Chill.’ I’ve heard of it, but never encountered it. I’m afraid I cannot cure your master.”

“Let me try,” Qinglan interjected the moment she heard Xiao Cangyi could not save him and darted to his side.

“No,” Xiao Cangyi immediately objected.

“Can this young lady help?” the guard pleaded, adding, “If she can save him, my young master will reward her handsomely.”

“What reward could you possibly offer?” Qinglan asked, curious—after all, he wasn’t even good-looking.

“My young master is an envoy for the upcoming Four Kingdoms Summit and the crown prince of our nation. Whatever you desire, you need only ask.”

“Enough, your status means nothing to me. I save people as I please. For the sake of our divine physician, I’ll do it,” Qinglan said, turning her head toward Xiao Cangyi as she spoke, though he remained expressionless.

“Thank you, miss. If ever you need anything, I will repay you with my life,” the guard said gratefully.

Without another glance at Xiao Cangyi, Qinglan mimicked his every move, pretending to check the prince’s pulse while channeling her spiritual power into him. She let Xiao Cangyi prescribe a mild tonic and sent them on their way, unaware that the Celestial Fate Ledger, which governed mortal destinies, had already shifted.

Day gave way to night, the events at the clinic concluded. As the two prepared to return home, Qinglan gazed at Xiao Cangyi, who sat with his eyes closed, resting.

“Xiao Cangyi, I coughed up blood today. Aren’t you worried about me?” she asked pitifully.

“I didn’t ask you to intervene—you chose to, and for someone from a rival kingdom, no less,” Xiao Cangyi replied, eyes still shut, lips barely moving.

“What do I care about his status? As long as he’s not hurting anyone, that’s enough,” Qinglan pouted in protest.

“Do you really mean that? Status doesn’t matter to you?” At these words, Xiao Cangyi opened his eyes, his gaze turbulent, his voice trembling.

“Of course. The world doesn’t belong to any one nation; everyone deserves to live, don’t they?”

“Qinglan, do you think I deserve to live?”

“Xiao Cangyi, what nonsense! You heal the sick and save lives—you’ve done so much good. If you don’t deserve to live, who does?” Qinglan replied, a touch of anger in her voice.

Seeing her like this, Xiao Cangyi couldn’t help but laugh softly. He’d never met anyone with such a temperament; he couldn’t imagine how she’d been raised. If only everyone possessed a heart like hers.

“So, why do you follow me? What is it you like about me?” Xiao Cangyi teased.

“Your face, of course. It’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen,” Qinglan replied with a mischievous smile.

“Then I suppose I must take good care of this face,” he said with a faint smile as they arrived at the Xiao residence. He walked inside, lips curved in amusement.

“Wait for me!” Qinglan called after him as she hurried to catch up.

The next morning, though she had hoped to linger a few more days, her master summoned her, and she had no choice but to return. Arriving at the Azure Hall, she found her mother waiting, her expression stern.

“What have you done in the mortal realm? The Celestial Fate Ledger, overseen by Lord Siming, has changed. When Heaven’s punishments descend as lightning, how many strikes do you think you can withstand?”

“Mother, I only saved one person. I did nothing wrong,” Qinglan insisted stubbornly.

“Enough. I’ll consult your father about what to do. You must cultivate diligently. The stronger your powers, the better your chances of surviving,” Lord Lingxi said with a sigh, vanishing as soon as she finished. The situation was already upon them; all they could do was try to minimize the consequences.

In the mortal world, Xiao Cangyi noticed Qinglan’s absence. She had promised to linger a few days longer; she wouldn’t have left without a word. If something had happened, he’d have to find her. After informing his parents that he was heading to the border to practice medicine, he returned to his room and slipped away.

In the Demon Realm, where the sky was always dark and a blood moon hung overhead, the Flame Demon Hall echoed with tension. In the center stood a figure clothed in black, half his hair gathered with a black coronet, sword-like brows above peach blossom eyes, a vivid red mark between them. His hands were clasped behind his back. Kneeling before him was Jinhan.

“Have you learned anything?”

“Lord Qinglan saved a life in the mortal world, causing the destinies of many there to shift. She may soon face repeated heavenly lightning as divine retribution.”

“Heavenly retribution? With her cultivation, how many times can she endure it? I told her not to intervene—what a nuisance,” the figure grumbled, vanishing in mid-sentence, his voice lingering in the air.

Jinhan could only complain inwardly: I said it might happen, not that it would. And you call it a nuisance—why are you in such a hurry, then?