Qingxin Cliff
During her time cultivating in seclusion at Jingxin Cliff, Su Qing would always receive something from Tongque's disciples in the early morning—sometimes a package of osmanthus cakes from Jiangnan, sometimes a packet of herbs to ward off the cold, with a note inside that read, "Don't push yourself too hard when practicing magic, and remember to eat on time."
Every time she opened the package, her heart was warmed, thinking that there were still people in Qingyun Courtyard who cared about her, which made the loneliness of Jingxin Cliff lessen a lot.
Occasionally, while practicing her spells, Su Qing would run into Jin Jing. That day, Su Qing was practicing her rain-summoning spell at the cliff's edge when Jin Jing stood outside the pine forest, arms crossed, raising an eyebrow: "Your rain-summoning spell hasn't improved at all. You've gotten yourself soaked. The other disciples at Qingyun Academy will definitely laugh at you when you get back." Though her words were sharp, she offered Su Qing a clean handkerchief, avoiding her gaze with a hint of unease. Su Qing took the handkerchief and suddenly realized that Jin Jing's concern, though wrapped in a hard shell, was exceptionally sincere.
She thought her days of quiet cultivation would end peacefully, but on the very day she returned to Qingyun Academy, she stumbled upon a search of the entire academy—disciples, armed with demon-detecting mirrors, were searching everywhere, claiming that the sect had sent in "alien evil cultivators" and that it was necessary to thoroughly investigate those who possessed evil items. As soon as Su Qing returned to her bamboo hut, two inner disciples barged in, and when the demon-detecting mirror swept over her baggage, it suddenly flashed a blinding red light.
"An evil object!" the disciple shouted sharply, rummaging through a brocade box in his travel bag. Inside were several bronze ornaments engraved with malevolent runes—the "protective amulets" that Tongque had given him a few days ago. She claimed they were newly cast bronze items that could ward off minor misfortunes and told Su Qing to carry them. Su Qing's mind went blank for a moment; she instantly understood—these weren't protective amulets at all, but clearly evil objects that had been tampered with! Why would Tongque give her these?
Could it be... that someone deliberately used Tongque to hide the evil object in her, so as to frame her as a "monstrous evil cultivator"? A chill rose from the bottom of her heart. She clutched the brocade box, her fingertips icy cold: it turned out that she had been betrayed by the person she trusted most.
Before she could defend herself, the disciples carried her toward the main hall. The whispers of the disciples along the way pierced her heart like needles: "I never thought Su Qing was an evil cultivator!" "No wonder she was able to become Elder Mu Han's disciple, she used evil magic!" Tong Que stood in the crowd, his eyes darting away, not daring to look at her; Jin Jing frowned, trying to step forward several times, but was pulled back by the noble disciples beside her.
Above the main hall, the elders sat on a high platform, a mirror for detecting evil spirits suspended in mid-air, reflecting the bronze ornaments in the brocade box with a blinding red light. The leading elder said in a deep voice, "Su Qing is possessing evil objects and is suspected of being an eccentric evil cultivator. According to the sect rules, he should be punished with thirty lashes and expelled from Qinglang Mountain!"
As soon as she finished speaking, two disciples stepped forward with whips. Su Qing closed her eyes tightly, her heart filled with panic and coldness—she had clearly been framed, yet she was powerless to defend herself. Just as the whip was about to fall, a figure suddenly blocked her way—it was Elder Mu Han! The whip lashed fiercely across the elder's plain white Daoist robe, leaving a conspicuous bloodstain.
The entire audience erupted in uproar, but the elder remained unfazed and said in a deep voice, "This woman is my disciple, and I know her character well. She must have been framed. Although the evil aura on this bronze ornament is strong, it has nothing to do with her spiritual power. It is clear that she was deliberately framed."
Su Qing abruptly looked up at the bloodstains on her master's back, her nose stinging and her eyes instantly reddening. Just then, a familiar sharp pain shot through her forehead, exactly the same pain she felt before fainting in Le Muqing. Immediately afterward, the handsome face she had seen before the Muqing Hall flashed through her mind, along with her master's figure shielding her—her master's form, his tone of voice, all vaguely overlapped with that of her "savior"! She subconsciously touched her brow; though there were no blue marks there, a faint warmth emanated from it, exactly the same feeling she had when the Mountain God was present. An absurd yet incredibly clear thought crashed into her mind: Could it be… that the Immortal Master is her master? The Immortal Master had never left, but had always been by her side as her master? While the elders on the high platform were still arguing, Su Qing stared at her master's back, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of her chest. Looking at her master's resolute eyes as he defended her, and at the bloodstains on his back, she suddenly understood—from the rescue at Le Mu Qing Di to the advice at Jing Xin Ya, and now to his selfless act of blocking the whip, everything her master did was exactly the same as the protection of the mountain god back then.
“Master…” she called softly, her voice choked with emotion. Elder Mu Han turned to look at her, a hint of tenderness in his eyes, and said softly, “Don’t be afraid, your master is here.” The warmth in his voice gradually overlapped with the voice of the mountain god in her memory, making her more certain that the master before her was the immortal who had accompanied her on her escape and protected her.
Looking at the bloodstains on Elder Mu Han's back, and recalling how the elders had tried to torture him without even investigating the matter, Su Qing's pent-up grievances and anger exploded instantly. She stood up abruptly, pointing at the elders on the platform, her voice trembling with emotion, yet each word clear: "What right do you have to call me an evil cultivator? It's just a few tampered bronze ornaments! You haven't even investigated properly before convicting me! You have eyes but can't distinguish right from wrong, you spout righteousness yet act so arbitrarily—is this the 'righteous path' of Qinglang Mountain?!"
She became more and more agitated as she spoke, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she stubbornly refused to wipe them away: "Since I entered the mountain, I have diligently cultivated myself every day. I distinguished evil and dispelled darkness during the rain-seeking ceremony, and I remained calm in the face of danger at the Yanqing Conference. How am I like an evil cultivator? You only look at my ordinary background and believe those fabricated evidences. Can't you tolerate a disciple who wants to establish himself based on his own abilities?"
The elder on the platform, his face ashen, was about to reprimand her when Su Qing suddenly lunged at Elder Mu Han, reaching out to hug him, her voice choked with sobs, "Master, they don't distinguish right from wrong..." But before she could even touch the hem of the elder's robes, two inner disciples grabbed her arms, forcefully prying her fingers apart and dragging her backward. "Let go of me! I want to talk to Master!" Su Qing struggled, but the grip tightened.
The murmurs below the stage erupted instantly, even more jarring than before: "Look! She still says it wasn't bewitching magic? She actually pulled and tugged at the elder in public!" "She must have used evil magic to curry favor with the elder, otherwise how could she have gotten the elder to take the whipping for her!" "She got in through the back door, and now she's trying to act tough and cheat!" These words were like countless needles piercing Su Qing's heart.
She watched as Elder Mu Han was surrounded by other elders, trying to explain but being interrupted; she saw Tong Que turn his head away, not daring to look at her, and Jin Jing, though looking anxious, was blocked by the crowd; then she remembered being framed by the person she trusted most, being misunderstood by all the disciples of the mountain, and not even being able to get close to her only support - the accumulated grievances, anger and despair instantly overwhelmed her.
The scene before her eyes began to spin, the whispers around her faded into the distance, and she felt a sharp pain in her chest, a metallic taste rising in her throat. She glanced one last time at Elder Mu Han, who was surrounded, before everything went black, and she fainted. Before losing consciousness, she seemed to feel an urgent gaze upon her, carrying a familiar warmth, but she was too weak to discern it, and succumbed to complete darkness.
After waking up from her coma, Su Qing was placed in a bamboo house in Qingyun Courtyard to recuperate. The dull pain in her chest and the stabbing pain in her forehead still occasionally flared up, but she never saw Elder Mu Han again—she only heard that the elder had argued with the other elders for a long time to protect her that day, and finally asked to be confined to his room for three days to reflect on his mistakes.
She nestled on the bamboo bed, gazing at the unopened osmanthus cake that Tongque had sent, her heart aching with bitterness. Tongque had only visited her once, his eyes darting around as he said, "I didn't put those bronze ornaments there," before hastily leaving. Jin Jing had come twice, each time scolding her for being "stupid, framed without even realizing it," yet secretly leaving her medicinal herbs for healing. But Su Qing had no mind for any of that; her mind was filled with the scene in the main hall—her public outburst, her outburst that had implicated her master and resulted in confinement, making her feel like a troublemaker, always causing distress to those she cared about. "Perhaps… I shouldn't go to see my master again," she murmured softly, clutching the corner of the blanket. How much trouble had she caused since entering the mountain? Trespassing into forbidden territory, being distracted during cultivation, and now being framed as an evil cultivator—each time, her master had covered for her.
If things continued like this, it would only make things more difficult for his master, and might even cause him to lose his position as elder. From then on, Su Qing never set foot in the Muqing Palace again. Every day, apart from practicing magic, he spent the rest of his time in the Scripture Pavilion, searching for ancient books related to the "Mountain God" and "Elder Qinglang Mountain".
She remembered the stinging pain in her forehead before she fainted, the figure of her master shielding her, and the familiar warmth emanating from her master after the mountain god disappeared—she had to find out what the connection was between the immortal and her master. The ancient books in the library were piled higher than a person, covered in dust. Wearing a cloth, Su Qing flipped through the pages one by one, not caring that her fingertips were scratched by the edges of the papers. In the "Biographies of the Elders of Qinglang Mountain," she saw the record of Elder Mu Han: "Mu Han entered the mountain to cultivate a hundred years ago. He was skilled in discerning qi and breaking evil spells. He was gentle in nature but rarely mentioned his past." She also found a line of small print in a tattered copy of the "Records of the Mountain God": "The mountain god of Qinglang Mountain once protected the mountain with his spiritual power. Later, due to sealing away evil spirits, his spiritual power was depleted, and he hid beside the elder, awaiting a destined person to awaken him."
Upon seeing the words "hidden beside the elder," Su Qing's heart pounded. She suddenly remembered the spirit leaf in her master's sleeve, the rescue at Le Muqing Land, the guidance at Jingxin Cliff, and the two similar stinging pains on her forehead—all the clues pointed to one answer: Elder Mu Han was the immortal who had guided and protected her all those years ago! Clutching the ancient book, she collapsed onto the floor of the scripture pavilion, tears streaming down her face. So the immortal had never left; he had simply changed his identity to stay by her side. Every single thing her master had done for her was a testament to his past protection. Yet she had previously misunderstood her master as the "young master of the Liuyun Sect," and had always disturbed his cultivation out of selfishness, even causing him to be confined… "Master, I'm sorry…" she choked out, covering her face. Sunlight streamed through the window of the scripture pavilion, illuminating the words "awakened by the destined one." Su Qing wiped away her tears and clenched her fists—she couldn't afford to be despondent anymore, nor could she cause her master any more trouble. She needs to cultivate diligently and become stronger as soon as possible. Not only does she need to investigate the Yin family's grievances, but she also needs to help her master (the immortal) restore his spiritual power and complete the unfinished sealing task from back then.
After leaving the Sutra Repository, Su Qing picked up her jade-handled staff again. Her morning rain-summoning technique was more precise than usual, and she practiced her evening lightness technique with extra care. However, whenever she passed by the Muqing Palace, she would always stop and gaze in the direction of the palace gate, silently reciting in her heart: Master, when I become strong enough, I will definitely not let you worry about me anymore, and I will definitely be able to help you fulfill your wishes.
The osmanthus cake on the windowsill of the bamboo house gradually cooled down, but Su Qing's heart warmed up again—she knew that she would no longer be alone on the road ahead, and every step she took had to be worthy of her master's protection.
Elder Mu Han, having shielded Su Qing from the lashes, had his skin torn by the barbs of the whips, and the impact had also dispersed some of the spiritual energy that suppressed his form. He needed spiritual energy to maintain his old-age appearance, and now that his spiritual energy was damaged, he could no longer conceal himself for long. So he simply shut himself in, locking the doors and windows of Muqing Palace, and telling the outside world that he was "in seclusion to heal his injuries." The candles inside the palace burned all night, and he shed his disguise as an old man, his handsome features appearing even more profound in the candlelight.
Several yellowed ancient books lay open on the table, including the "Secret Record of the Sealing of Qinglang Mountain" and a fragment of a scroll recording the "Prophecy of Taibai Mozu." As his fingertips traced the words "An alien evil cultivator has appeared in the world; one must seek a woman with the five elemental spiritual veins to resolve it," his gaze darkened. He knew that Su Qing was investigating his connection with the mountain god, and he was also aware that the outside world's criticism of Su Qing had not ceased. Her current seclusion was not only to recuperate and restore her spiritual power, but also to sort out the clues—he needed to find out who was framing Su Qing behind the scenes and why the "Prophecy of Taibai Mozu" was being pinned on her before his grandmaster Mo Yan became suspicious of her.
Meanwhile, in a side hall of Emei Manor, Tongque stood before Grandmaster Moyan, his tone deliberately urgent: "Grandmaster, do you still remember the prophecy of Taibai Mozu? It said that evil spirits would use the name of 'Five Elements Spiritual Veins' to wreak havoc on the sect. Su Qing... she not only secretly possessed evil objects, but also lost control in public that day in the main hall. It's hard to say whether she was possessed by evil spirits!"
As she spoke, she handed over a bronze ornament—the very same evil object that had been used to frame Su Qing. "Look at the evil aura on this bronze ornament; it's exactly the same as the 'evil spirit' described in the prophecy of the Mo Ancestor! Su Qing's origins are unknown, and she's always causing trouble. If we don't drive her down the mountain soon, she might bring great disaster to Qinglang Mountain!"
Grandmaster Mo Yan accepted the bronze ornament, his fingertips tracing the sinister runes on it, his brows gradually furrowing. He was already wary of the "alien cultivators" and always valued the sect's rules. Now, hearing Tong Que speak so confidently and even produce "evidence," doubts began to creep into his heart: "Is what you're saying true? Is Su Qing really related to the prophecy?"
"How dare this disciple deceive Grandmaster!" Tongque nodded hurriedly, a hint of pride flashing in his eyes. "During the search that day, the Evil-Detecting Mirror was the brightest thing in her bag. If Elder Mu Han hadn't protected her, she would have been dealt with according to the sect rules long ago."
Think about it, Elder Mu Han has always been fair, so why is he treating Su Qing so differently? Perhaps... he's also been bewitched by her evil magic!
These words struck at the heart of Grandmaster Mo Yan's concerns. He pondered for a moment, then said in a deep voice, "I understand this matter. You may leave now. I will discuss it with the other elders before making a final decision."
Tongque withdrew in response, and as he walked out of the side hall, a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips—as long as Grandmaster Moyan was moved, Su Qing would definitely find it difficult to stay on Qinglang Mountain this time.
After Elder Mu Han had been in seclusion for half a month, the door of the Muqing Hall finally creaked open. He stood by the threshold, the hem of his plain white Daoist robe stained with a little dust. The aged appearance he had been deliberately maintaining appeared even more pronounced, and a few more strands of white hair seemed to have appeared at his temples. Even the movement of raising his hand to brush his clothes carried a hint of imperceptible hesitation—clearly, his spiritual power had not yet recovered, and he was struggling to maintain it.
Just then, Su Qing happened to be passing by carrying a food box. Seeing the palace door open, she stopped involuntarily. She gripped the food box's handle tightly, her fingertips brushing against the bamboo weave pattern. After hesitating for a moment, she stepped forward, her skirt lightly brushing against the moss on the steps as she knelt down: "Master, you've come out of seclusion? I... I stewed some congee, thinking that you must have worked hard in your seclusion."
Elder Mu Han lowered his gaze to her, his eyes landing on her reddened earlobes—this girl's earlobes always turned red first when she was nervous. He slowly raised his hand, his fingertips almost touching the stray hairs on her forehead, then turned in mid-air, his fingertips gently brushing against hers as he took the food box, and said softly, "Thank you for your thoughtfulness, come in." The candlelight in the hall was brighter than usual, and an unclosed ancient book lay open on the table, its pages curled from being rubbed by his fingertips.
Su Qing ladled the congee into a white porcelain bowl and handed it over, paying special attention to his hands—those hands had distinct knuckles, and although covered with the wrinkles of an old man, they were still beautiful. When he held the staff, he was as steady as a rock. At this moment, he was holding the edge of the porcelain bowl, his fingertips gently rubbing the rim, as if he was feeling the temperature.
"Practice the evil-detecting technique I taught you a few days ago, show it to me again." Elder Mu Han put down his bowl and took the jade-handled staff from the table. Su Qing took the staff, and as soon as her fingertips touched the staff, his warm palm covered hers—his palm was warm and gentle, and he gently adjusted her finger technique, his thumb inadvertently brushing against the thin callus on her tiger's mouth (that was worn out from practicing magic every day), his movements so light as if he was afraid of breaking something.
"Sink your wrist a little deeper, let the spiritual energy flow along the core of the staff, don't rush." His voice was right next to her ear, carrying a faint scent of ink. Su Qing's ears turned even redder, her heart was pounding so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest, and she even slowed her breathing.
Only when she managed to cast her demon-detecting spell, and a faint spiritual light emanated from the tip of her staff, did he slowly withdraw his hand. The warmth of her wrist lingered on his fingertips, and as they hung at his sides, he subtly curled his fingertips. In the following days, Su Qing frequently came to the palace. Sometimes, she would help him organize ancient books, kneeling on a prayer mat, her fingertips gently twirling the yellowed pages, her movements so delicate she was afraid of tearing them. When she encountered ancient characters she couldn't understand, she would lean over and ask, her hair occasionally brushing against his sleeve, carrying a faint scent of herbs and trees. Sometimes, when she was tired from practicing magic, she would lean on the table, her chin resting on her arm, rambling on about how sweet the sugar paintings in the capital were, how the osmanthus cakes sent by the Bronze Sparrow were a bit too cloying, and even the way she wrinkled her nose when complaining about the bitterness of the pills carried an unguarded and charmingly naive look.
Elder Mu Han always sat opposite her, a pen in his hand, but his fingers often lingered on the paper. He would watch her as she lowered her eyes to grind ink, the delicate shadows cast by her eyelashes beneath her eyes; when she complained about the bitterness of the pills, he would subtly push a dish of candied fruit towards her, picking one up with his fingertips to taste its sweetness before handing it over; he would even quietly adjust the candlelight when she spoke of her elder brother, so that the warm light would fall precisely on her face, illuminating the light in her eyes. Once, when Su Qing was practicing her magic to identify evil spirits, she slipped and twisted her ankle, staggering forward with a cry of surprise. Elder Mu Han almost instantly rose, his long arm reaching out to embrace her waist, his palm pressed against her lower back, his true spiritual power uncontrollably surging towards her—that gentle warmth flowed along her meridians, exactly the same feeling he had when the Mountain God protected her years ago.
Su Qing froze in his arms, able to clearly feel the warmth of his palm and even smell the faint scent of pine needles from his clothes. She looked up at him, her eyes full of confusion, and was about to speak when he suddenly released her, his fingertips clenching white in his sleeve. As he turned, the hem of his Taoist robe brushed against her ankle, his voice deliberately calm: "Just now... my spiritual energy was unstable. Sit down first, I'll get some ointment."
He knelt down in front of her, carefully lifting her ankle, his fingertips avoiding the sprained, swollen area, gently pulling her trouser leg up. The ointment, cool and herbal, clung to her skin. His movements were as light as if he were touching fragile porcelain, his thumb occasionally brushing against her ankle, causing her to tremble slightly.
At night, Elder Mu Han stood beneath the pine tree outside the hall, his fingertips twirling a freshly fallen pine needle. Moonlight fell on his face, revealing a complex mix of emotions in his handsome features, now free of pretense—the dependence and trust in her eyes when he held her ankle earlier had pierced his heart like a fine needle. He knew he shouldn't have such feelings for her, but every time he saw the thin layer of sweat on her forehead as she practiced her magic, every time he saw her biting her lip to keep from shedding a tear when she was wronged, he couldn't help but want to protect her behind him, wanting her to never have to suffer like this again.
Su Qing lay in the bamboo house, touching the lingering warmth on her ankles, her fingertips gently tracing her skin—her master's movements were so gentle, as if afraid of hurting her, even his spiritual energy carried a familiar tenderness. She turned over, gazing at the moonlight outside the window, her ear tips turning red again—so this was the feeling of being protected by her master, so reassuring. But why did that vague flutter in her heart become clearer every time she was close to him?
Su Qing lay on the bed, her fingertips repeatedly stroking the old hairpin given to her by Tongque beside her pillow. A few days ago, when she was practicing magic, her master blocked the out-of-control spiritual power for her. The warmth of his palm covering the back of her hand was still as clear as yesterday. But when she thought of his white hair at the temples and his slow, heavy steps, her heart felt like it was blocked by something.
"My master is an elder, how could I have such thoughts?" She sat up abruptly, stuffed the hairpin under her pillow, but her ear tips were still burning.
From then on, she began to deliberately avoid the Muqing Palace—when she saw her master in the training ground during morning practice, she would go around to the back mountain; when she was supposed to learn the art of identifying evil spirits in the afternoon, she would find an excuse to "practice the art of lightness" and hide in the bamboo house; even when she saw that figure in white from afar, she would hurriedly lower her head and turn around, the sound of her skirt brushing against the stone steps revealing a hint of panic. Once in the scripture pavilion, she was tiptoeing to reach the ancient book on the top shelf, her fingertips had just touched the spine when she suddenly heard familiar footsteps behind her.
She froze, recognizing her master without turning around. Clutching the ancient book, she hurriedly tried to leave, but failed to notice the steps and stumbled forward. Instead of the expected pain, she bumped into a warm, ink-scented embrace. Her master's hand steadily supported her waist, the warmth of his palm seeping through her clothes, making her heart race instantly.
"Why are you walking so recklessly?" His voice carried a hint of helplessness. As he helped her to her feet, he gently pinched the stray hairs on the top of her head with his fingertips—a gesture he used to make when she was distracted while practicing magic.
Su Qing recoiled as if burned, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the ancient book. She bowed her head and said, "Thank you, Master. I have other matters to attend to, so I will take my leave now."
After saying that, she turned and ran away, not even daring to take the "Supplement to the Identification of Evil Arts" that he handed her. Only Elder Mu Han was left standing there, watching her back. The scent of grass and wood from her hair still lingered on his fingertips, and his eyes were full of complicated emotions.
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