Chapter Fifty-Four: New Grievances, Old Hatreds

Tiande’s hand reached for my cheek, but I could retreat no farther. Suddenly, he formed a seal with one hand and pointed sharply—an immortal spell shot out, barely grazing my face, flying past me to strike at something behind.

A mottled spirit serpent was sliced in two by Tiande’s magic, falling from the branch above.

Truthfully, as I stepped back, I’d already sensed the presence of the serpent behind me. Yet, disguised as a humble peach orchard attendant, using powerful immortal magic would only invite more questions from Tiande, which I could neither explain nor voice. Better to avoid trouble, I thought, and simply step aside. I never expected Tiande to act so swiftly and decisively on my behalf.

The serpent, cleaved in two, writhed on the ground, its split body oozing foul, black venom before it finally stilled.

“How could such a venomous creature infiltrate the Celestial Palace?” I was still puzzling over the snake when, all at once, the two lifeless halves transformed into separate serpents again. Fangs bared and tongues flickering, they lunged straight at me.

Beast-capturing is the most basic training for any disciple of the Jade Purity Realm; such poison was no more threatening to me than a mosquito or a fly. I remained calm, unperturbed. But Tiande leapt before me in a flash and dispatched the two snakes with another pair of spells, reducing them to dust.

“Were you frightened?” Tiande steadied me by my arms, his face earnest.

It wasn’t the serpent that startled me, but rather Tiande’s uncharacteristic concern. Why did he care for me so intently? Instinctively, I tried to pull away, but he held my arms fast.

“Are you alright?” he asked anxiously.

I shook my head. Could a mere serpent truly frighten me? Why was he so nervous?

“Brother Emperor!” Second Prince Tiansheng called from a distance.

Tiande let go at once.

“An urgent matter,” Tiansheng announced, landing beside us.

“I must attend a meeting. Wait here for me,” Tiande said, hurrying away at his brother’s summons.

I smiled, thinking, “Thank you for helping me so many times. But I neither need nor wish to wait for you.”

With a leap, I left for another place, leaving that earlier “danger” far behind me within moments. My heart, however, was full of thoughts for my master—when would his important meeting conclude? Had he finally settled the marriage agreement with the Third Princess? The more I pondered it, the more restless I became. Suddenly, an idea struck: why not use the excuse of delivering flowers or fruit to see what he was up to…

And so I found my way to the celestial officials’ roster room. The place buzzed with activity, especially the official who always tried to curry favor with me, barking orders left and right. The junior attendants spun frantically under his command. Just as I stood there, bewildered, wondering what to do, one of the little attendants called out to me, holding two trays of immortal peaches, “You, the new one! Come with me to deliver peaches to Lord Yunxiao! Hurry! Don’t daydream—move!” She thrust a tray into my hands.

Without thinking, I accepted the peaches. Was heaven truly so kind to me? Whatever I wish for comes to me!

Following her brisk steps through winding corridors, we arrived at a palace. I glanced up—“Nine Spirits Palace”? Before I could think further, she shoved me through the doors.

“Hurry and deliver them!” she tossed over her shoulder before leaving.

Several immortal pear trees stood in the courtyard, their blossoms white as snow. Beneath them hung an empty swing. The whole place was serene, reminiscent of the healing halls in the Jade Purity Realm.

My master—here? Did he have a residence in the Celestial Palace? As I wondered, voices drifted from within the main hall. I approached, fruit tray in hand. A young woman’s voice rang out, crisp as silver bells, “Xiao Rui, go see if the peaches have arrived yet.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The palace doors swung open, and I stood there, tray in hand.

“Oh! You startled me! How do you move so silently?” Xiao Rui pressed a hand to her chest, then pulled me inside, announcing, “The peaches have arrived!”

The palace was not opulently decorated, but rather elegant and tranquil. “What refined taste,” I thought, “much like my master’s.”

Following Xiao Rui into the inner chamber, I saw a slender woman reclined on a chaise. Her features were clear and beautiful, her brows arched with a proud, phoenix-like grace. One knee drawn up, she draped an arm casually across it, her posture both languid and composed. In her hand, she held a bronze mirror, as if in the midst of her toilette. Despite her youth, her bearing and attire suggested a maturity beyond her years.

“Could my master really be here?” I looked around uncertainly.

“Why so late? Place the tray on the table,” Xiao Rui instructed.

As I set the fruit down, I wondered, “Could this beautiful woman be the Third Princess? Where is my master? Was I tricked by that attendant…?”

“Why are you so careless with our princess? Do you know any manners? Place it properly!” Xiao Rui scolded as she saw my distracted air.

Princess? She really is a princess! I started, tilting the tray so that the peaches tumbled out.

“Oh, you’re hopeless! Must be new,” Xiao Rui huffed, stooping to gather the fruit. As she picked up two, she cried out, “Princess, look! What’s wrong with these peaches?”

I hurried to look. Every peach on the tray had a bite taken out of it! When I’d received the tray, the marks were hidden, but now they were plain for all to see.

“So this was a setup!” I realized. Tiande must have ordered the orchard attendants to gather dew flowers for me; resentful, they’d laid this trap, using my master’s popularity as a pretext to lure me here for revenge.

“Why the silence? Speak up! Was it you who stole a bite?” Xiao Rui demanded.

I shook my head and pointed to my throat, indicating that I could not speak.

“What do you mean?” she pressed.

The princess, still lounging, glanced at the tray and let out a cold laugh. Unhurried, she said, “Xiao Rui, can’t you tell? This little attendant has been set up—and she can’t speak. Hmph, such petty tricks, trying to fool your great-grandmother. How laughable.”

Great-grandmother? Was she referring to herself or to me? Even if I were highly ranked, I surely couldn’t be her ancestor. I examined her more closely. That proud and unrestrained air, the beauty tinged with an ancient melancholy… she appeared young, yet her eyes carried centuries of sorrow.

Who in the Celestial Palace could command such seniority? A name flashed through my mind.

The princess’s cold smile deepened. “You look at me so—do you recognize me?”

I shook my head.

Seeing my wrist, a hint of surprise flickered in her haughty eyes. She lifted her arm, combing her hair with the bronze mirror, and said indifferently, “Xiao Rui, fetch another tray of peaches. Tell them the old imperial grandaunt will only eat peaches ten thousand years old. If they try any tricks, for every year short, I’ll have a piece of their flesh! Let them take care—these peaches aren’t for the likes of them to gnaw. If anyone dares, I’ll have their head! Princess Changyang means what she says. Go.”

“Yes, ma’am! How dare they try to fool our princess! Suicidal!” Xiao Rui stormed out.

So it was her—Princess Changyang! My master’s nemesis! The notorious villainess who framed Lu Xue!

A chill ran down my spine. In person, Princess Changyang was indeed formidable. A bite from one peach was worth centuries; every peach here bore a mark—a punishment fit for a thousand cuts. One false Lu Xue was trouble enough, but this was the real Changyang, and a truly ruthless princess at that. Those attendants had chosen their victim well.

“Now, it’s just you and me,” Princess Changyang said, straight to the point. “You’re a female immortal—what is your relation to him?”

Unmasked at once. I had always imagined Princess Changyang to be a foolish immortal, infatuated with my master—so much so she framed Lu Xue, knowing he’d never let it rest. But now, though she seemed severe, she was far from stupid.

“Can you truly not speak?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Use your Xuanjing Sword to write, then. You must be a new master,” she said with a faint smile.

She reminded me: the Xuanjing Sword could transform at will, its movement tracing words as swiftly as thought. That she even knew its secrets spoke volumes of her perceptiveness. There was no point in hiding anything—what would be, would be.

“Disciple,” I wrote with crystallized sand from the sword.

“He actually accepted a female disciple!” Changyang looked me up and down.

“As a male disciple, the false Lu Xue framed and excluded me at every turn. Might as well be a female disciple and be done with it,” I thought.

“Did Hanqing send you?” Changyang asked.

“No, I was tricked by an attendant,” I wrote.

She laughed. “No wonder you became its master—you’re as soft-hearted as she was. Easy to manipulate!”

I smiled wryly, unsure whether it was praise or insult.

“You admit so readily to being his little disciple—aren’t you afraid I’ll harm you?” Changyang asked.

“I’m not Lu Xue,” I wrote.

“Haha! True enough. Changyang only ever took issue with Lu Xue!” she laughed heartily, but there was a trace of sorrow in her eyes.

“I heard Hanqing refused to release me, saying only Lu Xue’s consent would suffice. Then a little disciple spoke, and he let me go. Was that you?”

“It was,” I wrote.

“Thank you. Forty thousand years—it’s a release for us both,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” I replied silently, thinking, “You may have found release, but I was terrified at the time.”

“Do you think I was foolish, doing what I did?” she asked.

“You’re not foolish, but it was a foolish thing to do,” I wrote.

“That was my own choice. Remember, there are many ways to remember someone. Sometimes, hatred cuts deeper than love. Don’t you agree?” Her smile was tinged with loneliness and pain.

Did she really create hatred just to be remembered by my master? Could she be that naïve? I wondered.

“Better to forget,” I wrote.

Changyang sighed. “The eye may reflect itself, and rivers flow in reverse. Your words woke a dreamer. Lu Xue is gone; he couldn’t hold her. After forty thousand years lost in memory, he finally turned away and let go of old grudges.”

I had nothing to say. That line had been coaxed out of me by Lord Wuxiang.

“How is Hanqing these days?” she asked.

“Busy with affairs,” I wrote.

At the sight of these words, her expression changed abruptly. “Little disciple, come closer to me!”