“Did you actually lecture Mingyue and the Demon King?”
These were the first words out of Jiao Ziyu’s mouth as the other greeted him the very next morning, completely foregoing any semblance of propriety. Yi Yeguang honestly couldn’t care less though, because this was his private residence and it was honestly just the two of them. Also, it was way too early for this, and besides⸺ “Did Mingyue really sell out Bai Jixue to the Demon King?”
“Uh...” The current Peak Lord Jiao scratched the back of his head. “I guess? I mean, there were extenuating circumstances and all, but... yeah.”
Extenuating circumstances?
Yi Yeguang was honestly afraid to ask, but⸺ “What did he do?”
This earned him a decidedly sheepish look. “Uh... are we talking about what Mingyue did or about what⸺?”
Honestly⸺ “In what way did Mingyue sell out his own master to the Demon King?”
“Uh...” Jiao Ziyu said, looking like he’d much rather talk about literally anything else. Unfortunately for him though, he’d been the one to enter Yi Yeguang’s domain, and Yi Yeguang had no intention of letting him leave before the other had given him at least some answers.
“What did he do?” he repeated, and honestly, it wasn’t as though he enjoyed watching the other sweat – he simply wanted to know.
“Well,” Jiao Ziyu said at last, pointedly avoiding Yi Yeguang’s gaze. “Mingyue sort of... conspired with the Demon King and... used an opening to stab his master with a stinger dipped in venom?”
Ah. “And why is that?”
“Well,” the other said, chancing a glance in his direction before averting his eyes once more. “Because of certain complicated circumstances that I’m not sure I’m allowed to discuss, Mingyue thought his master might get in the way of things and thus... asked the Demon King to keep him away until things had been taken care of?”
Huh. “Is that so?”
“I mean, yeah, basically,” Jiao Ziyu said, then finally looked at Yi Yeguang properly. “And in the end, the Demon King pretty much double-crossed him and allied himself with Bai Jixue instead, allowing him to interfere, and then... then things were settled and... I’m not actually clear on what happened because I was pretty out of it at the time, but... Bai Jixue decided to accept the Demon King’s courtship and... yeah...”
Right. “So, Mingyue’s plan backfired, and Bai Jixue decided to marry the Demon King, possibly out of spite?”
There was a slightly awkward laugh at that.
“I honestly don’t know about the latter,” Jiao Ziyu quickly admitted, lowering his voice considerably. “I honestly don’t know, but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if that was indeed the case.”
Yi Yeguang honestly wouldn’t be all that surprised either. It wasn’t his business though. Still⸺ “Thank you, Peak Lord Jiao, for providing additional context. I mean, Mingyue did talk about it, but⸺”
“Getting additional information was like pulling teeth?”
Yeah.
“Well, I’m glad that I was of some use,” Jiao Ziyu said, nodding to himself. “That said though, can I ask you something?”
Well, technically speaking, the other had already asked him something, but⸺ “Sure.”
“Since when?” Jiao Ziyu asked in turn, watching him seriously. “Since when did you know I had feelings for Mingyue?”
Really. That was his question?
At a passing glance, there was really nothing truly special about the current Peak Lord Jiao. He wasn’t truly exceptional in any regard – only average or just slightly better than average, and compared to admitted prodigies, he was indeed quite average, quite insignificant.
This however was exactly why Jiao Ziyu was so useful and what had made him such a great fit for reconnaissance work. Because the other wasn’t someone that people paid a whole lot of attention to, and he in turn tended to pay a decent amount of attention to his surroundings, noticing even small details that others tended to overlook.
Of course, just noticing things wasn’t always enough. Perception didn’t necessarily equal understanding, and noticing various signs was not the same thing as interpreting them correctly – evidenced by how Jiao Ziyu had spent so many years pining after Bai Mingyue without realising that his feelings were, if not immediately reciprocated, then at the very least not rejected.
Yi Yeguang had definitely noticed though. He’d definitely noticed, and finding out about Mingyue’s secret cache of Jiao Ziyu’s gifts – gestures of friendship and whatnot – had only confirmed already existing suspicions.
And sure, some of the trinkets might’ve passed as something of the sort, but upon seeing that silvery hairpin, Yi Yeguang had been pretty stunned. He’d also quietly lit a candle for the other in his heart, because when Venerable Master Bai found out, well, odds were that Jiao Zilei would’ve had to select a new favourite.
At the time, Yi Yeguang did wonder though, if Jiao Ziyu had simply been that bold or simply that oblivious. Given the amount of time the other spent amongst the common folk, the other could’ve hardly been oblivious to the connotations after all; giving someone a hairpin was basically a proposal, or at the very least to a pretty bold proposition.
As for whether or not Mingyue had initially picked up that particular nuance, that was debatable. Yi Yeguang rather doubted it, but the other had to have learned about it at some point as he’d taken to wearing it only after they’d become official. Yi Yeguang had seen him carrying it around before that though.
In any case, Yi Yeguang had been immensely glad to learn that the two of them had finally managed to reach some degree of understanding. However, at the same time, he’d been undeniably concerned, because Mingyue seemed to have left out a number of things – things such as him being something other than human, for example.
Because yes, Yi Yeguang obviously knew about that – and how could he not, honestly? Sprouting wings and talons and whatnot wasn’t something that full-blooded humans typically did, and while he’d never seen Mingyue manifest the former, Yi Yeguang just sort of figured it might happen, because that sort of thing would’ve made sense.
In any case, Yi Yeguang obviously hadn’t said anything about it. In fact, he’d made a very conscious effort to conceal it, because even though the Windward Sect was by no means as zealous about hunting demons as for example the Lotus Leaf, this in itself didn’t necessarily mean that everyone would be fine with harbouring a demon in their midst.
Besides, putting up with that sort of thing wasn’t without risk. A righteous cultivation sect found to be harbouring demons might get branded as a budding demonic cultivation sect after all, and suffer the consequences for it.
And whether as a Sect Leader or as a person, Yi Yeguang obviously didn’t want that. Fundamentally speaking, by concealing it, he’d wanted to protect the sect. However, at the same time, he’d obviously done it for other reasons – to protect Mingyue, and to protect himself as well, albeit to a lesser extent.
In any case, since Mingyue and Jiao Ziyu had finally gotten together, there was no longer a need for Yi Yeguang to interfere – besides, with Mingyue now formally cured, there were no poison flareups to cite as an excuse for any bouts of strange and aggressive behaviour.
That said, of course, even then, Mingyue had generally possessed pretty admirable self-control, because if he hadn’t, then he would’ve killed Yi Yeguang a long time ago.
Regardless, Yi Yeguang had recognised that hosting demons was a risky thing to do. Thus, he had made an effort to gradually mend relations with other cultivation sects, not just because it was a reasonable thing to do but because it was smart to have at least some ties to them in case things truly went south. Because attacking one’s allies was something generally frowned upon, and⸺
Well, truth to be told, the Windward Sect’s relationship with most righteous cultivation sects wasn’t actually that bad.
Granted, there were notable exceptions – the Lotus Leaf among them – but by and large, most cultivation sects were willing to cooperate with the Windward Sects on matters such as trade or the occasional night hunt.
Unfortunately, the Lotus Leaf held significant sway over the others, and thus, most of these ties were not formally recognised.
As for the enmity in-between the Windward Sect and the Lotus Leaf, it was old. In fact, it went all the way back to the foundation of the Windward Sect and to Founder Yi, who’d enticed one of the Lotus Leaf’s masters to defect to him; one Bai Yiling.
Since those days, matters in-between them hadn’t exactly improved – largely thanks to this person and to those of her lineage.
Granted, Yi Yeguang wasn’t exactly sure about all the details, but Elder Huang had insinuated that the now since long ascended Peak Lord wasn’t the sort to act out without good reason.
As for what ultimately constituted to a good reason, the other hadn’t said.
However, as things were, Yi Yeguang knew enough to make a reasonable guess. Because if the founder of the Bai lineage was anything like her successors, then the matter had likely involved her disciple and later successor – and considering the lengths the latter had gone for his own disciple in turn, well⸺
With a sigh, Yi Yeguang got back to work.
The relationship in-between master and disciple could take various forms – some close, some not, some good, some not, some long-lived and others, well⸺
It was complicated, and Yi Yeguang very much imagined the same applied for the relationships in-between disciples, and particularly those in-between disciples of the same master. It was undeniably different though. It was undeniably different and typically geared more towards envy and jealousy than admiration – although there were obvious exceptions, like always.
Admiration was typically the sort of thing that was reserved for the master, or potentially for a senior disciple whose abilities were so out of reach that one couldn’t realistically contend with them.
It was dangerous though. It was dangerous, because it might lead down all sorts of dangerous paths. It might lead to one losing sight of things – to one losing sight of what was right or what was important – and to one doing or disregarding things that shouldn’t have been done or disregarded.
As the current Sect Leader, Yi Yeguang had access to all the sect’s records.
And as the disciple of the former one, Yi Yeguang knew many things that weren’t in these records. In truth, he probably knew a whole lot more about internal sect matters than anyone – anyone but a select few, that is.
In the end though, the situation was what it was, and Yi Yeguang could only live with it. He couldn’t go back in time and undo any of it, whether it was his own mistakes or those of his predecessor.
Yi Yeguang wouldn’t have called most of them mistakes though – because calling them mistakes would’ve implied that they hadn’t been planned, oftentimes with full knowledge of the consequences.
His predecessor had chosen this path, and Yi Yeguang had chosen his own.
Granted, should Yi Yeguang wake up one day to find himself back at the time when he was still that man’s disciple, then he would’ve certainly employed some of that ruthlessness for himself – because just as some seemed to believe that the ends justified the means, certain ends were indeed justified.
If Yi Yeguang woke up one day to one of those days, then he would’ve made sure of it – he would’ve made sure that former Sect Leader Yi really died the way that Yi Yeguang had claimed; from a violent qi deviation courtesy of Wūtóu poison. Because then, there’d be no reason for Venerable Master Bai to⸺
“Don’t think about it,” Yi Yeguang quietly reminded himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “There’s little point.”
And indeed, there was little point. There was no point, because it didn’t matter. What had happened had happened, and what had happened wasn’t that.
“Don’t think about it,” Yi Yeguang reminded himself. “There’s no end to it.”
And indeed, there wasn’t.
There was little point pouring over old records. There was little point, because Yi Yeguang had already done that and he already knew what they said – as well as what had been omitted, at least as far as Sect Leader Yi was concerned.
As for what Yi Yeguang himself had opted to admit, there was a lot, and most of it was connected to Mingyue in one way or the other.
Even the late Peak Lord Jiao’s half-demon spawn was connected, both as the spouse of Mingyue’s disciple, and as a fellow ‘time traveller’ and whatnot.
Then, of course, there was also the issue of Venerable Master Bai.
Yi Yeguang wasn’t completely sure what to make of the whole issue concerning Venerable Master Bai and the Demon King. He wasn’t completely sure what to make of it, but he was extremely sure of his assertion that it was honestly none of his business. He’d already voiced his opinion – namely that Bai Jixue was an adult capable of making his own decisions and that he wasn’t the sort to simply remain in a situation he didn’t like, and that he should be consulted if there were any doubts – and if that counted as lecturing the Demon King, then so be it.
And as far as lecturing Mingyue went, it wasn’t lecturing as much as it was ascertaining the circumstances at hand – and since Mingyue hadn’t been very forthcoming in his answers, Yi Yeguang had retrieved the relevant information from Jiao Ziyu – which still wasn’t the complete story, but enough of it to determine that Yi Yeguang wasn’t to involve himself any further than he already had.
Unfortunately, it would seem as though the Heavens – or others – had other plans.
In hindsight, Yi Yeguang really ought to have known better than to offer up any sort of relationship advice to the Demon King – because if he hadn’t, then the other likely wouldn’t have turned up months later with an infant on each arm and a grin that filled Yi Yeguang with violent urges.
Thus, the Green Jade Peaks had come to host the young offspring of Bai Jixue and the Demon King; Princess Báilián and Princess Hónglián. There was little denying whose offspring they were either, given their significant resemblance to Bai Jixue, even if Princess Hónglián had inherited the Demon King’s crimson locks. And as for what else they had inherited, well⸺
Yi Yeguang sat cross-legged by the window in his bedroom, his chin cushioned on one of his hands as he kept a watchful eye on the one hiding out underneath his bed. He had already sent off a message, and now he could only wait, wait and hope that there would be no more escapades tonight.
“Honestly, why do you keep sneaking in here anyway?” Yi Yeguang muttered, and the glimmering eyes under the bed blinked. “There’s nothing good for you here.”
There was nothing good in this place – only Yi Yeguang, his aching heart, a cursed sword and a bunch of miscellaneous items that shouldn’t within reach of a child – demon or otherwise. And given the wards that Yi Yeguang had set up with the assistance of Elder Huang, he would’ve considered this place childproof. He should’ve obviously known better though, having seen what both the father and... well, cousin was capable of.
Honestly⸺ “Why?”
