In hindsight, Yi Yeguang should’ve probably known better than to provoke a clearly cursed sword – and he did, he usually did.

However, while not inebriated, he had been in a state of heightened emotion, and sought an outlet of sorts – an outlet that had ultimately constituted to ‘venting to a cursed sword that already hated his guts’.

And the sword in question had apparently taken offence, and somehow, it had managed to circumvent the seals placed upon it and placed one upon Yi Yeguang – and now, there was a brand seared into his skin, situated right above his heart, which had obviously been pretty damned agonising in and by itself, albeit not quite as agonising as that first time the sword had decided to inflict agony upon him.

Fortunately, it seemed as though Yi Yeguang’s wards had held. Because if not, then someone would’ve shown up to investigate at this point. But no one had, so his secret was probably safe for now. Granted, this ultimately left him with something of a dilemma on his hands.

Technically speaking, Yi Yeguang should probably call for Mingyue. However, if the other learned about what had happened, then there was no telling as to what he might do – and considering how the other had at one point mentioned his intentions to cut a spiritual parasite out of a living person’s body and soul, Yi Yeguang wasn’t particularly keen on it.

In any case, Mingyue already had enough to deal with. As such⸺

“Hoh...” said Elder Huang, staring intently at the mark displayed prominently upon Yi Yeguang’s chest. “That’s something you don’t see every day.”

Well, that was certainly one way of putting it. That said however⸺ “I looked into the records, but I couldn’t find anything conclusive. Have you seen anything like it?”

Elder Huang didn’t answer immediately. Then, he simply sighed and shook his head, but more so in exasperated thoughtfulness than in confusion. Because the other had definitely seen such a thing before – because Yi Yeguang had definitely seen it; that brief flash of recognition.

So⸺ “Actually, no, allow me to rephrase that: I know that you’ve seen something like it, and I’d like for you to tell me: How screwed am I, Peak Lord Huang?”

Because how could he be anything but screwed? This was his life after all.

Thinking this, Yi Yeguang propped up his elbow and leaned against it, using the hand to cushion his chin while he looked towards the window. Then, after a brief moment, he went right back to heavily side-eyeing Elder Huang.

The old man tilted his head slightly and then finally asked: “Has Sect Leader ever considered the benefits of engaging in dual cultivation?”

What kind of stupid question was that? Honestly⸺ “It’s not as though I’m completely oblivious to such benefits. However, although there are definite benefits, there are definite drawbacks as well, and engaging in such practices are not without risk for either party involved.”

Done correctly, dual cultivation could help stabilise and strengthen both parties involved. That wasn’t always the case however – typically one of the parties reaped far greater benefits than the other, and sometimes even at the noticeable expense of the other. Also, not everyone was equally compatible, and when compatibility was low, the risks of engaging in dual cultivation were not insignificant. As such⸺ “I harbour no wish to risk anyone else’s health or advancements for the sake of dealing with this. It’s my mistake and it’s my responsibility.”

“Hoh,” said Elder Huang, appearing thoughtful but by no means surprised. “You won’t accept any volunteers?”

Really. “Old man, I’m not helping you win another bet.”

Because Yi Yeguang was by no means naïve enough to assume that such a bet didn’t exist or had at the very least existed at some point. And honestly, this would certainly explain a thing or two about how certain members of the Windward Sect had initially reacted to the news of Bai Mingyue and Jiao Ziyu getting together.

There had been certain whispers and some not very subtle looks – directed both his way and theirs. Most of these looks had been out of disbelief though, not disappointment – though thinking of it now, Peak Lord Xiu’s reaction had definitely featured both, and she had even gone so far as to inquire about Yi Yeguang’s feelings on the matter.

And Yi Yeguang, well, he had stated quite honestly that he wished them both happiness, but that he hoped that this new partnership wouldn’t have any lasting negative impact on their work – a statement to which Peak Lord Xiu had reacted by patting Yi Yeguang’s back and telling him that if he ever wished to talk about it, her door would always be open.

This in turn had made him snort, because honestly, if he ever wished to vent, then going to Peak Lord Xiu would’ve been a definite last resort, considering the woman’s habit of composing not just art but also songs about past and present cultivators and their relationships.

And the mere thought of this had made Yi Yeguang want to jump off of the nearest cliff, but had also held him back from doing just the same. Because he’d realised that this sort of action would’ve only furthered Peak Lord Xiu’s delusions – namely that Yi Yeguang, spurned by Mingyue, had thrown himself over the edge to escape the cruel reality of the situation.

Honestly, the mere thought of it still made Yi Yeguang twitch.

It wasn’t that Mingyue wasn’t attractive or anything, because he definitely was. Even now, paintings of him sold extremely well both within and outside of the Green Jade Peaks. In fact, Yi Yeguang had a sneaking suspicion that there was an even greater demand for them now, and an even greater value given to those that already existed seeing that Jiao Ziyu had effectively stopped making them.

And what could Yi Yeguang do besides applaud the latter’s decision to cease and desist? The majority of those paintings might’ve been relatively innocuous, but some of them were not, and Yi Yeguang sincerely doubted that Jiao Ziyu would have the face to be quite as brazen now that he most definitely had Mingyue’s attention. Also, while the urge to immortalise a loved one’s image wasn’t a particularly strange one, making and selling such images to others was a different matter.

In any case, there was nothing wrong with Mingyue’s looks – cultivators in general tended to be more attractive than commoners, yes, but compared to Bai Mingyue, most cultivators looked like commoners. As for Mingyue’s personality though, well, it was what it was, and in many ways, that was a good thing.

As for what exactly Mingyue had seen in Jiao Ziyu, Yi Yeguang still didn’t quite get it. He didn’t really feel the need to get it though, and only hoped that their relationship would last, or at the very least end on reasonably amicable terms. Because that was the issue with powerful cultivators forming romantic relationships – if the relationship did not end well, then the fallout might prove spectacular.

And this, this was the reason as to why all members of the Lotus Leaf were forbidden from engaging in any sort of liaisons with outsiders and fellow sect members alike – an extreme yet completely understandable decision, knowing what lay behind it.

And as for what lay behind it, well⸺

“Elder Huang,” Yi Yeguang said as he finished straightening out his attire. “Can I ask you something completely unrelated to all of this?”

The other paused, then turned back to face him.

“I don’t see why not,” Elder Huang finally said, offering up a bow. “How might this humble old man be of assistance?”

Hah. “You can start by not addressing me like that.”

“Well,” the other said, straightening back up while keeping his hands tucked inside his sleeves. “Informal it is, then.”

This was undoubtedly the other’s preference as well, not just Yi Yeguang’s.

“Well, ask away then, young lad,” Elder Huang said.

Hah. “Former Peak Lord Bai, Bai Yiling.”

“That’s not a question, is it?”

Well, technically, it wasn’t, but⸺ “What kind of person was she?”

“Well,” Elder Huang began, tapping his chin. “She was... definitely something.”

Of this, Yi Yeguang had no doubt. Still⸺ “As someone who’s met all three generations of the Bai lineage, which one is the scariest?”

“The scariest?” The old man laughed quietly, then just shook his head and offered up a dismissive wave. “That’d be Martial Sister Yiling, no doubt. I mean, I’d like to say that she mellowed out considerably after she got herself a kid, but...”

At this, the other trailed off, then smiled a quite meaningful smile.

“Well,” Elder Huang then continued, tucking his hands back into his sleeves. “I’d say Martial Sister Yiling was a lot like the current Peak Lord Bai in various ways.”

Well, that simultaneously told Yi Yeguang nothing but also very much all at once. It had more or less answered his question though, so he let it be.

“That said though,” Elder Huang finally allowed. “I guess they are pretty different in at least one aspect though.”

Pretty different? “How so?”

“Well,” the old man said, grinning. “I’d say one definitely had better taste than the other.”

Better taste? “In what manner?”

“In men,” Elder Huang said, confirming Yi Yeguang’s mounting suspicions that the other had indeed been talking about that.

Ah, honestly, he didn’t really want to know. He didn’t want to know and he didn’t want to ask, even though he could tell that Elder Huang very much wanted him to, watching him expectantly.

Honestly though, Yi Yeguang was probably better off not knowing – because Heavens knew that he already knew too much.

Thinking this, his thoughts inevitably strayed towards another member of the Bai lineage, and the last time he’d seen him.

Many years had passed since then, and yet, Yi Yeguang still remembered the events with great clarity: the way that the other had put a swift end to Sect Leader Yi.

And in the aftermath, Yi Yeguang had said nothing – or, to be specific, he’d said a lot of things, many of them untrue. He’d glossed over details and outright lied, reframing the situation as something it wasn’t.

In hindsight however, he wondered why he’d even bothered. He could’ve just come clean about things – or at least about his role in this whole scenario. He could’ve told the truth about that, and dealt with the consequences accordingly.

He could’ve also claimed sole responsibility for the Sect Leader’s death – there would’ve been no need to even mention Venerable Peak Lord Bai’s presence at the scene.

The other wasn’t even supposed to have been there in the first place, so Yi Yeguang could’ve really just left that out and⸺

“Young lad,” Elder Huang said, cutting into his spiralling thoughts. “There might be another way to solve this.”

Another way? “I’m listening.”

 

---

 

Yi Yeguang had done plenty of things he wasn’t proud of. He’d also done a number of things that he was outright ashamed of, but that was a whole other issue.

In any case, when it all came down to it, Yi Yeguang had fucked up. He’d been in the wrong, and he’d sought to set things right – to atone for his own mistakes and whatnot.

That was why he’d lied, probably. He’d lied to protect Mingyue, and he’d lied to protect himself – because if he got expelled or worse, then there would’ve been no one left to protect Mingyue.

Of course, if Yi Yeguang ever woke up to find that he’d somehow returned to those days, then he would’ve strongly encouraged Mingyue to just embrace his demonic heritage and make the best of his connections to the Demon King. Because that too would’ve put an end to Mingyue’s escapades into the Demon Realm, escapades from which he’d often returned injured and with a feral glint in his eye.

And then, there would’ve been no need for Yi Yeguang to act. Then, he could’ve just sealed away Founder Yi’s blade instead if seeking its power, and with his meridians unruined, he could’ve made a life for himself as a rogue cultivator or something.

In any case, even if he’d remained at the Green Jade Peaks, he would’ve probably made himself scarce. Because honestly, even though Yi Yeguang and Mingyue had spent a decent amount of time together, Mingyue would’ve undoubtedly preferred to have Jiao Ziyu around, and⸺

There would’ve been no need for Yi Yeguang to seek out Elder Huang either – no need to ask the other to waste precious time tutoring someone like him.

In any case, strictly hypothetical scenarios aside, there was the situation at hand, which was significantly different from what had once been. It was different, because Mingyue had a partner now – a partner as well as a disciple. The other also had his master back and his master’s offspring, and if push came to shove, protection from the Demon Realm. As such, Mingyue didn’t really need Yi Yeguang anymore – not like before, at least. Neither Yi Yeguang’s presence nor his protection was really needed at this point, and as such⸺

“Seclusion?”

Elder Huang nodded, and his face was unusually solemn.

“The blade has pierced your middle dantian,” he then said. “If you leave it be, then it’ll interfere with both your lower and your upper dantian. Even now, its spiritual presence is too tangled up in your core to be safely extracted... Dual cultivation would’ve been one way of loosening its grip – but not without certain risks, like you said...”

Yeah, no shit. Also, no way Yi Yeguang was subjecting anyone else to that, volunteer or not. This was his problem. Granted, Founder Yi’s blade was technically something they’d inherited, but he had unwittingly made the thing his problem, and so it was.

“It’s not impossible to deal with single-handedly,” Elder Huang sighed. “Not impossible, but difficult.”

Well, of course it was. If it had been easy, then it wouldn’t have been a problem now, would it?

“It’s a very delicate process,” the old man explained. “It’s a delicate process and it’ll take time – not just days but weeks, maybe even months, years... I mean, on the whole, it’s not an awful lot of time for people like us, but...”

Elder Huang trailed off, seemingly weighing his words.

“Young lad,” he said at last. “If you choose to enter the caves, there’s no telling when you’ll come back – or even if. It’s your decision, but I urge you to think it over properly beforehand. There isn’t a lot of time, but⸺”

Hah.

Yi Yeguang stood, cupping his hands as he bowed.

“I will take Elder Huang’s opinions into careful consideration and give notice of my final decision,” he said, then straightened back up, hiding his hands up his sleeves and his thoughts behind a smile. “I also trust you to keep this information to yourself for the time being, because rumours seem to spread like wildfire here at the Green Jade Peaks.”

Yi Yeguang also didn’t want anyone else to worry, at least not at this stage. Because no matter the outcome⸺ “No matter the outcome, this humble one wishes to thank Elder Huang for his continued guidance and support. This one humble one might not have been the best student, but...”

Given the opportunity to start over, Yi Yeguang would’ve used everything the other had taught him, even if he wasn’t allowed the privilege of learning from him directly. And without that damned sword messing up his meridians, Yi Yeguang might’ve even been able to⸺

“I know,” the old man said, resting a hand atop his head – it was really no way for a Peak Lord to be treating the Sect Leader, but Yi Yeguang allowed it. He allowed it, because when it all came down to it, they’d never really had such a relationship, had they?

“That is true,” Elder Huang said. “But I haven’t been the best teacher either, have I?”

The urge to deny this was strong, and so was the sudden instinct to firmly attach himself to the front of the other’s robes. But Yi Yeguang stood still, because he wasn’t a child – he hadn’t been a child for a very long time now.

Instead, he merely lowered his head and willed his eyes and throat and chest to stop burning.