Chapter 104 Autumn's chill always lingers between heaven and earth...

Autumn always adds a touch of desolation to the world. The autumnal equinox has passed and the frost is approaching. The cold dew at dawn remains in the shadows that have not yet been illuminated by the sunlight, condensing into beads and rolling down the leaves to the ground.

Shuangmu had never experienced the distinct four seasons of the human world.

In his memory, the mountain gate was always spring-like all year round, and wildflowers never left the branches, dotting the mountains and fields like a painting. The flowers and people in the painting were like colors on a canvas, beautiful but unreal.

A chilly wind blew against him, carrying him to this garden.

The relentless cold wind made the cultivator feel as if he had never felt cold before, just like Xie Zhuo's gaze, chilling to the bone. No matter how strong the wind was, it wouldn't stir up a ripple there, unless...

Unless a pebble is thrown in, ripples will spread continuously like waves.

But why should we?

Such beautiful eyes should have been moved by him.

Shuangmu suddenly spoke, his tone carrying a childish retaliatory undertone; he deliberately omitted the form of addressing Xie Zhuo:

"If you had met me first, you would..." He suddenly stopped, unsure of what to say next, his gaze fixed blankly on Xie Zhuo.

The sunlight, losing its warmth in the cold wind, slanted down, evaporating the last trace of dew from the branches.

The thin lips beneath the beautiful eyes parted slightly:

"There is no such thing as 'if'."

The two voices rang out almost simultaneously, but were completely drowned out by that flat and not loud voice:

"Will you keep watching me...?"

The wind was so loud that Shuangmu's eardrums rang muffledly, and he couldn't hear his own voice. However, the other four words bypassed his ears and went straight into his mind.

Isn't Xie Zhuo an ordinary person?

Why were these four words able to be heard so clearly and firmly by him?

The indescribable yet ever-surging desire in his heart could no longer be contained. Shuangmu's empty eyes ignited like a fire, and he suddenly moved closer, breaking the safe distance between them.

Xie Zhuo's decent skills among mortals were completely insignificant in the eyes of cultivators who had spiritual power to draw upon.

Shuangmu grabbed the young man who hadn't had time to back away, his icy hands tightly gripping the other man's hands hanging at his sides:

"I'm clearly the same as him!"

A mix of emotions—desire, resentment, and unwillingness—made Shuangmu suppress his voice as he squeezed out these words.

Xie Zhuo did not pull his hand away from the grasp. He knew that as a mortal who could not mobilize spiritual power, trying to pull his hand away in front of a cultivator was like an ant trying to shake a tree, so he simply let the other person hold his hand.

He only frowned slightly when the icy touch came on.

Xie Zhuo lowered his eyes and looked at the child in front of him again.

With almost identical faces and nearly indistinguishable physiques, he could indeed be said to be the same as Xie Baoqiong in some respects.

Especially when the face in front of him got angry, the icy demeanor of the past melted away, revealing the vitality of a young man, making him more like Xie Baoqiong, even the subtle expressions when angry were exactly the same.

but,

No two leaves are the same in the world, and there will never be two Xie Baoqiongs in the world.

Shuangmu's behavior became increasingly similar to Xie Baoqiong's, which increased Xie Zhuo's doubts.

Unlike how he treated Xie Baoqiong, he didn't reach out his other hand, which was hanging by his side, to grasp Shuang Mu's cool hands. Instead, he left the boy's hands exposed to the cold wind, letting all the warmth he had drawn from them slip away.

Xie Zhu remained silent for a long time. The emotions that had been surging in his heart all erupted with the previous sentence, leaving him hesitant to move forward.

He squeezed the young man's porcelain-like hand, loosening and tightening his grip. His hand, not large enough, could only hold the young man's fingers, his fingertips brushing against the thin calluses left on the young man's hands from holding a pen.

The touch in his hand was like a piece of fine, warm jade. Unlike Xie Zhuo's indifference, it continuously transferred warmth to him, like the endless ripples when beautiful eyes reflected that stone.

The warmth of his palm gave Shuangmu a false sense of hope, and he couldn't help but feel a little expectation. He repeated his words, but his tone was no longer sharp, and it carried a hint of ingratiation:

"I'm the same as him, he's not here..."

A cold wind swept by, and the warmth in his palms seemed to dissipate, carrying Xie Zhuo's words, as cold as icy needles, to his ears and piercing his body:

"The Imperial Preceptor Lin has returned to the capital. You will come with me to visit him tomorrow."

During those days, you can absolutely treat me as him.

The unfinished words were like yellow rice cake that had been rinsed in cold water, stuck in his throat, neither going up nor down. Shuangmu lowered his upturned face, and the moment the strength in his hands loosened, the warmth vanished.

He stared intently at his hand, which had somehow fallen to his side, and a muffled voice escaped his lips:

"knew."

Why would he feel sad? He's clearly just unwilling to accept that what belongs to him doesn't belong to him.

...

—

The beach in Punghae County.

Xie Baoqiong shook off the white particles left after the seawater dried and put her shoes and socks back on.

A chilly wind carried the waves to his feet. Xie Baoqiong raised his face and looked towards the horizon, as if sensing something.

The shimmering sea swayed gently, like the branches of a tree swaying.

As the sun fully ascends into the horizon, the sea loses its golden and orange hues, leaving only a deep blue, its dark color occasionally punctuated by flashes of light.

The distant horizon offered a faint glimpse of land, but Xie Baoqiong knew that Xie Zhuo was even further away…

"Arjun!"

He looked away and turned his head to see a white figure waving at him from the other side of the beach.

He turned his back and ran in the opposite direction from that land:

"They're here."

...

The emerald green color still lingered on the branches. The two enjoyed the scenery, which was completely different from that of the capital, and arrived at the largest town in the area before noon.

The three powerful characters of 【Fenghai City】are engraved on the city wall, watching the people come and go below.

It was already noon, and only a few people remained in the procession to enter the city.

The guard at the city gate yawned wearily, took the travel permit from the person in front of him, looked him over, and waved him through.

The line behind them suddenly dipped down, and two figures squeezed together.

Qi Gui grabbed Xie Baoqiong's sleeve and whispered:

"Arjun, what should I do if I don't have a travel permit?"

Xie Baoqiong held his hand reassuringly, her tone calm: "I didn't either."

"How do we get into the city? There are arrays carved on the city walls, and there are still sorcerers guarding the area..."

Qi Gui paused, then his eyes suddenly lit up: "How about we turn back into our original forms, and I'll carry you in and fly in?"

“We have spiritual energy fluctuations on us, which will be blocked by the formation,” Xie Baoqiong pointed out the problem, noticing Qi Gui’s dimmed eyes out of the corner of her eye, and comforted him:

"Don't worry, I have a way."

The line gradually shortened, and those in front of them were quickly allowed to pass after handing over their entry passes. Xie Baoqiong grabbed Qi Gui, ignored the guards, and walked straight toward the city gate, where, as expected, she was stopped by the guards.

"Hey, stop right there, you two kids."

The guard, who had been drowsy, instantly woke up. He stretched out his long arm and stopped the two men who were following the previous person who had been allowed to enter the city. Overwhelmed with the joy of his impending merit, he raised his voice:

"Where are the travel permits and credentials? Anyone who tries to infiltrate the city without these will be considered a spy."

Hearing the commotion, the person in front turned around, worried about getting into trouble, quickened their pace, and hurriedly disappeared through the city gate.

Qi Gui gripped Xie Baoqiong's hand even tighter, struggling to stay upright and not hide behind the boy.

Xie Baoqiong felt her palm being squeezed twice, and she turned her eyes to give him a reassuring look.

He raised his head high, looking down at the guards who had blocked their way:

"Who are you, daring to stop this young master?"

Qi Gui's pupils dilated in shock as he glanced at Xie Baoqiong, who had suddenly transformed into a different person.

The guard was taken aback, not expecting the young man in front of him to be so bold. Just as he was about to speak, his colleague standing on the other side of the city gate suddenly walked over, nudged him with his elbow, and gave him a look.

The joy of his meritorious service was somewhat diminished, and the guard lowered his gaze, scrutinizing the two boys' clothing.

Although he wore no accessories, the bright fabric of the young man's clothes had a luster that surpassed even the silks worn by the magistrates he had ever seen.

His gaze turned serious. Regardless of their identities, the two people before him were more likely to be trouble than to gain merit, and a huge trouble at that. If they were truly important people, he would not have an easy time after offending them.

However, he dared not rashly let the person into the city. If it was truly a spy or someone sent by a demonic cultivator, he would become a sinner of Fenghai City.

When he spoke again, his tone was no longer harsh and stern, but unusually gentle: "I am blind and do not know who you are?"

Xie Baoqiong maintained her arrogant and disdainful attitude: "How dare you hear my name?"

Qi Gui, who was standing to the side, finally came to his senses and chimed in cooperatively, "That's right, you can't just listen to our names."

However, he was not very skilled at it, and his tone was not as assertive as Xie Baoqiong's; his voice still had the softness and sweetness unique to children.

The guard wiped away imaginary sweat; he was all too familiar with this manner—just like the dissolute young men in some of the lords' mansions in the city.

His wariness gradually lessened, but remembering his duty, his tone became even more humble:

"Young master, you may not know this, but a travel permit is required to enter the city. I am simply acting in accordance with the law."

Xie Baoqiong knew from the guard's tone that the time was almost up, but her arrogant tone remained unchanged. Her hand, hidden in her sleeve, pulled out a square, hard object.

"Would it be the same if my father came?"

"May I ask which household your father belongs to?" the guard asked, his tone even more cautious.

Xie Baoqiong's arrogant voice deliberately betrayed a hint of panic, "Hmph, don't try to fool me into telling you who my father is..."

His voice trailed off, but he deliberately let out a few words to make sure the guard in front of him could hear him clearly: "If my father finds out I ran away..."

He then feigned exasperation and raised the token he had taken from Xie Zhuo's study: "This should prove our identities, right? Let me in quickly."

The silver token is exquisitely crafted. The three characters "Yongshunhou" in the center and the three characters "Fenghaicheng" above the city gate are clearly from the same hand. They shine together in the sunlight, and the engraving in the lower left corner further confirms the authenticity of the token.

The guard blinked hard, trying to find evidence that he was seeing things, but found that the bright autumn sun could also make him dizzy.

He had heard of the previous Marquis of Yongshun; he was the Grand General who brought peace to the borders of Dasheng. Although the new Marquis of Yongshun's name was not as famous as the previous one, he should be around thirty years old by calculation, and was definitely not the four-foot-tall boy in front of him.

The guard's gaze passed over the token and landed on the boy's youthful face, silently concluding that the boy before him must be a grandson of the previous Marquis of Yongshun.

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Author's Note: The next chapter should reveal Shuangmu's true identity.