Chapter 6

Far away from the Demon Spirit Realm, in another world entirely,
On the slopes of Guiyuan Sect, fields upon fields bloomed gold with flowers as far as the eye could see.
A young cultivator, skirts gathered in hand, stepped out beneath a watery moon and glided into the sea of blossoms.
Her presence rippled through the golden tides, sending up flurries of gleaming spirit butterflies. It wasn’t a field at all, it was an entire hillside where thousands of Xiumu butterflies came to rest.
She opened the brocade pouch she carried, shaped a spell with her fingers, and the butterflies beat their gold-foil wings as they flocked obediently into the small pouch in droves.
Despite its tiny size in her delicate palm, the pouch seemed to swallow butterfly after butterfly, as if it hid an endless space within, finally closing, impossibly, after thousands had fluttered inside.
“That’s probably enough. Let’s carry them up ahead.”
The cultivator climbed the embankment and handed the pouch to an even younger girl, who balanced a green bamboo basket on her arm, filled to the brim with brocade pouches of every size.
Across the rolling golden hills, other disciples moved in and out, performing the same task.
The little girl hopped along after her senior sister. “Sister, every year we have to catch so many Xiumu butterflies and bring them to the Huayu Hall? We do this every season?”
“Mhm. There are other senior brothers and sisters ahead too, they each have to cover whole towns, all in a single day. Their job is even tougher than ours. Let’s hope we find a few truly gifted children this year.”
“It’s just so much hassle,” the youngest complained. “I heard plenty of sects use easy magic tools, just have the kids touch it, and it shows if they have a spirit root. Simple, no butterfly-breeding required. Doesn’t that just save everyone a headache?”
Her senior sister turned back, giving her a look. “Do you remember your first day in the sect?”
“Of course!” the little one stuck out her chest and recited solemnly, “Refine the character and abandon fate, and you’ll lose yourself in emptiness. Refine fate and abandon character, and you become wayward. Only by cultivating both fate and character can we unite with the Dao and become one with the cosmos. But… what’s that got to do with picking disciples with butterflies?”
Her senior gently pinched a butterfly from the air between fair fingertips. “The Xiumu butterfly, people call it the Gold-Seeking Dao. It asks the heart, listens for the path. You have to realize: in this world, you can’t just judge by appearances. Some people are born in the mud but keep their hearts warm through everything. Others look noble and holy but are rotten underneath. But when you see their soul’s color in the butterfly’s illusion, it shows true as day on those wings.”
“We at Guiyuan practice the supreme dual cultivation of fate and character. Spiritual aptitude and Dao heart, both are crucial. That’s why, no matter how much hassle it is, the first step for picking disciples always begins with the Gold-Seeking Tao, testing the heart with these butterflies.”
Little junior sister covered her face and groaned, “What do I do? When I got the butterfly, all I dreamed about was the day I went back to my grandma’s house, the very first time in my life I had a chicken leg. I just stuffed my face in the dream, didn’t show an ounce of ‘excellent temperament.’ No clue why Master picked me.”
The senior girl ahead burst out laughing. “Maybe Master thinks you’ll reach enlightenment through eating, just like Senior Sister Miao from Xiaoyao Peak?”
Meanwhile, inside the Demon Spirit Realm where Mu Xue lived,
Mu Xue had just arrived home and already felt a headache coming on. She carried Cen Qianshan in her arms, another load of stuff in her hands, and surveyed the chaos that was her house. Everything was a total mess, and she had no idea where to put this little thing, who was covered in wounds from head to toe.
She’d lived alone for years and was obsessed with artifact refinement. Her place was nothing but the fire room, an outhouse, and one huge wide chamber, that’s it.
Inside, there were refining furnaces, a blacksmithing corner, arrays for handling all sorts of materials, big and small workbenches, and stacks upon stacks of ingredient bins and bookshelves. The only places you could rest were a floating suspension bed and a single meditation cushion for cultivation.
Just a few days ago, while crafting a custom artifact for the Lei family, everything seemed to click, her mind and heart moving as one. She lost herself in the work and, sure enough, created a masterpiece worth bragging about.
Of course, she’d left the entire place looking like a beast had ransacked it.
Now that she was back, there was barely a single spot to stand.
Mu Xue looked around for a long while. The only corner that hadn’t been demolished was her meditation spot, with a wide cushion. She used object manipulation to float over several extra pillows, planning to put the boy down there for now.
Even though he’d slept soundly the whole way, as soon as Mu Xue lowered him onto the heap of pillows, Cen Qianshan woke up immediately.
He pushed himself up from the pile, hair in a wild tangle, eyes sharp and defensive, the kind of pretty eyes that now looked icy and feral, like a lone wounded wolf out on the steppe.
Only after seeing Mu Xue and the unfamiliar surroundings did the confusion flicker through his gaze, then, just as quickly, that edge faded. He dropped his eyes, feigning meekness, and let Mu Xue settle him back down on the cushion just as she wanted.
The skinny boy looked even more fragile surrounded by all those pillows. Instinctively, he hugged one arm to his chest and curled up a little, careful to keep his blood-caked right foot sticking over the edge of the mat.
Mu Xue gently lifted his ankle and started to peel away the bandages. Instantly, the boy’s fingers dug into his own arm, tense.
Those makeshift wrappings, soaked through with blood, had been on so long they’d fused with his skin, a rough yank would hurt like hell.
Mu Xue frowned. If Cen Qianshan was a cultivator, treating this kind of injury would be a snap, a pill or a healing technique, job done.
But this child was a mortal. For Mu Xue, mortals were trouble: whether medicine or magic, even a slight overdose and their bodies couldn’t take it, boom, dead on the spot.
And Mu Xue hadn’t dealt with mortal problems in ages.
She’d need to track down some regular medicine, buy some clothes. Maybe even a bed. Oh right, mortals… they needed three meals a day, too.
Mu Xue looked at Xiao Shan, huddled in her nest of cushions. Suddenly, she realized: decades of solitary living, disrupted by this scrappy little stray who’d barged into her life.
There had to be an easier way.
She rummaged through her cabinets and dug out an old spatial pouch, finally fishing up a tiny golden toad.
“Found it! I can’t believe this thing’s still around since forever ago.” Mu Xue showed Cen Qianshan the bronze-colored golden toad.
She wound a little spring on the toad’s back; with a mechanical click, it opened its mouth and croaked.
“Light of the toad, wash clean the wounds,” Mu Xue chanted.
The golden toad gave another croak and hopped forward, then again, inching to circle Cen Qianshan. Where it hopped, a soft ring of light blossomed on the floor, drawing a glowing circle that enveloped the boy.
Cen Qianshan sat up, a little mystified, looking at Mu Xue.
“Made this myself, back when I was just starting out with artifact refining,” she told him. “It only does one thing: sets up a healing array to stop bleeding and mend physical wounds. You just lie in there for a few days. No matter how bad your injuries are, you’ll recover.”
Mu Xue clapped her hands, genuinely pleased she’d figured out such a neat, fuss-free solution.
This time, besides bringing Cen Qianshan back, she’d also scored a piece of merfolk bone.
It was a material she’d never used before. Now that Cen Qianshan didn’t need round-the-clock care, she couldn’t wait to take out that demon bone and lose herself in research at the worktable.
She immediately forgot about the time.
Outside the window, the night snow faded and the rooster called. When Mu Xue finally came to, sunlight was already streaming through the windows.
Today promised clear skies for once.
She emerged from a pile of broken bones and glanced toward the corner.
The bronze golden toad still sat quietly on the floor, the array circle softly glowing, but the center was empty. Cen Qianshan was gone.
Mu Xue looked around. No sign of him.
But the room itself, someone had straightened the leftover materials, sorting the scraps and bits into neat piles.
All the trash was tidied into a big basket, set off to one side. Even the containers and gear, though not scrubbed, were lined up perfectly on an empty shelf.
The wooden floors, which hadn’t been mopped in ages, gleamed so brightly she could almost see her reflection.
Mu Xue let out a startled “Ah!” Not quite sure how to process all these feelings.
She got up, walked outside, and slid open the door to peek out.
A wide clothesline stretched across the yard, bed sheets and pillowcases washed snowy clean, fluttering in the pale light of a post-snow morning.
A boy, his sleeves tied back, stood on tiptoe hanging fresh laundry. He heard the door open and looked back at her.
The moment he turned, it was as if the full moon had risen high above, pure white light spilling across the courtyard in a sudden, breathtaking sweep.
All winter, this courtyard had felt bleak and empty, but now, thanks to that slim figure, it seemed alive again, flooded with warmth and brightness.
Ruan Honglian had warned her: this one is absurdly pretty. Still, Mu Xue hadn’t expected Cen Qianshan to be beautiful to a degree that bordered on surreal.
Just washing off the grime and tying up his unruly hair had revealed a luster that was simply impossible to hide, a striking presence, radiant and remarkable.
The cultivation world certainly didn’t lack beauties. There were endless ways, whether alchemy or illusion, to conjure up any face you wanted. Mu Xue herself had even refined a special artifact that could tweak someone’s features at will, miracle-makeovers on demand.
But all the skills and embellishments of the world couldn’t outshine the cold, flawless grace this boy had, such that even the most sculpted faces instantly dulled by comparison.
Now Mu Xue finally got it, no wonder Liangzi had been so spectacularly reluctant to hand this kid over.
Mu Xue was thoroughly delighted.
Who wouldn’t prefer beauty? Compared with the broad, barrel-chested aunties she could’ve hired to cook for her, having such an elegant boy around was obviously a better mood-lifter.
Especially since this kid was sharp, well-mannered, and worked hard without complaint.
Spotting Mu Xue, Cen Qianshan quickly hurried over.
“Your foot’s healed already?” Mu Xue glanced him over. He’d shaped a makeshift crutch from a tree branch, and though his ankle was still bound with frayed strips of cloth, at least it had stopped bleeding.
He didn’t even have shoes. Who knew how much time, how much painful effort he’d put into tidying up the whole house in just one night?
Even someone with her thick skin felt a twinge of guilt. “You should rest for a few days. There’s no need to do all this, you don’t have to worry about laundry and chores. I can handle it.”
He was diligent yet discreet; without being told, he’d tidied up, never moving anything important, and had cleaned towels and bedding without touching her personal clothes.
Sure, Mu Xue could’ve used a spell for these errands, but whether it was a Dust-Banishing Charm or object manipulation, enchantments cost time and spiritual power. Contrary to storybook rumors, you couldn’t just snap your fingers and have the whole manor spotless in an instant.
Which was why Ruan Honglian had suggested she hire a servant or two, seeing how she never had time for basic living.
Cen Qianshan watched Mu Xue’s face for a reaction. When he saw she wasn’t annoyed, he relaxed a little and tried, “I’ve boiled fresh water in the kitchen. Would you like to wash up, Mistress? I can bring it right over.”
“No, no, go rest. I’ll get it myself.” Mu Xue quickly stopped him.
She wasn’t about to be the kind of monster who made an injured kid haul her wash-water around.