The Mountain Lord's Daughter

"I can't bear to look at Yue Zhiheng's expression."

"Wen Xun, why don't you choose?"

"..." Zhan Yunwei didn't know what kind of personality the "Wen Xun" the man was referring to had. If he saw through her, both she and Yue Zhiheng would be as good as dead.

She hesitated and pointed at a child.

But unexpectedly, the perverse man in front of her narrowed his eyes, a cold, suspicious look flashing in them.

Zhan Yunwei's heart sank. Could it be that the "Wen Xun" she had become didn't have this taste?

From what she heard from the man earlier, it seemed like it was her first time in Jianhuan Tower. So, Zhan Yunwei let her hand drop and blurted out, "None of these children appeal to me."

To her surprise, after saying this, the man before her no longer looked suspicious.

He smiled coldly. "You're still as dull as ever. I heard that you have a spirit cultivator at your residence, once your wife, who foolishly came to Du'e City. You've often tortured her, but you never truly killed her."

"Could it be that, as those people say, the higher the cultivation of an evil spirit, the harder it is to forget the emotions they had when they were human?"

Zhan Yunwei, trying to embody the persona of "Wen Xun," was also somewhat surprised.

So, there were a few evil spirits in Du'e City who still retained some human emotions, enough to barely control their desire for killing.

But "Wen Xun" could never admit to this, so Zhan Yunwei responded, "No, I was just thinking about how to deal with her in a more interesting way."

Sure enough, this response pleased the perverse man. He waved his hand, and the Jianhuan Tower attendants took the remaining children away, leaving only Zhan Yunwei and Yue Zhiheng in the room.

The man didn't seem to care whether Zhan Yunwei stayed or left. Perhaps, with "Wen Xun" present, he thought it would be more entertaining.

Zhan Yunwei couldn't help but glance at the boy in the room.

How old was Yue Zhiheng this year? He looked to be around seven or eight, with a cut on his lip. It seemed he had already been beaten before being brought to Jianhuan Tower.

Zhan Yunwei had never expected to encounter a young Yue Zhiheng in a place like Du'e City.

The Yue Zhiheng she remembered could kill with a smile, was well-mannered, yet always breaking the rules.

He was like a poisonous snake raised in a prestigious household—arrogant, selfish, and unwilling to suffer any loss.

At one point, Zhan Yunwei thought that once Yue Zhiheng took control of the Yue family, he would turn to ally with the Dynasty.

But now, thinking back, that was not the case.

Before the age of eight, Yue Zhiheng had actually been living in Du'e City.

And the mute girl's strange behavior, the madam's reclusive life, led Zhan Yunwei to make an absurd and bold guess.

Could it be that Yue Zhiheng and the mute girl were also children of evil spirits?

But that didn't make sense. Zhan Yunwei had never sensed any evil aura from them. Besides, how could the emperor of the Dynasty allow evil beings to hold a position in Chutian Manor?

As she pondered, the perverse man had already sat down at the table.

He glanced at Yue Zhiheng, narrowing his eyes. "New arrival today?"

The boy lowered his eyes, his voice hoarse. "Yes."

"Do you know how to serve people?"

The boy's face was pale. He remained silent for a long time before finally nodding.

Logically, at his age, if he had been living on an immortal mountain, he should be memorizing books daily, being taught by elders to correct his mischievousness.

But Yue Zhiheng knew many things he shouldn't.

After their mother left, only he and the mute girl were left in the underground palace. There was an unspoken rule in Du'e City—children of the Chizhi King couldn't be harmed while they were still young. But Yue Zhiheng had seen many times how, once his peers reached adulthood, whether they were beautiful boys or girls, they were dragged away by the palace guards to be humiliated.

The children vaguely knew these were bad things, but they dared not watch. One by one, they curled up together, their innocent bodies huddling for warmth.

At those times, the mute girl would sit in a corner, holding Yue Zhiheng's clothes, confused and lost.

But Yue Zhiheng had sneaked off to watch several times.

When their mother was still around, during her bouts of madness, she would occasionally mumble about cultivation techniques. In the process of repeatedly reshaping his meridians, he had faintly grasped the method of cultivation.

Although he wasn't strong, he was still better than all the other children in the underground palace.

Yue Zhiheng was agile and often climbed beams, forcing himself to watch the beastly acts committed by his peers. He wasn't scared or fearful. Instead, he was filled with cold hatred. He knew that to change his fate, he first had to understand what it was.

In the Three Realms, there were beings more wretched than the poor commoners or lowly evil spirits.

Anyone could bully them.

The last time Yue Zhiheng followed them, he tied up the guard, took his dagger, and handed it to the abused boy. "Kill him."

The boy, his face covered in tears, trembled but dared not take the dagger.

Yue Zhiheng, an eight-year-old boy, looked coldly at the boy, who was five or six years older, yet seemed weak and unable to even hold the dagger.

He didn't know which emotion surged in him first—helplessness or sorrow—but when it settled in his eyes, it turned into a chilling, vengeful expression.

In front of the boy, Yue Zhiheng slit the guard's throat. Purple blood sprayed across his face, and he coldly wiped it away with the back of his hand.

From that moment on, he knew that he was different from everyone in the underground palace. He was the sharpest thorn in the thicket of weeds.

Even though he saved the boy, the next day, the boy was still taken away and "dealt with."

Yue Zhiheng had also brought the mute girl and successfully escaped the underground palace. By now, it seemed the mute girl had already been taken to Jianhuan Tower to do rough work.

Although they were twins, the brother and sister looked nothing alike. The mute girl's appearance wasn't as delicate and beautiful as Yue Zhiheng's. She was quite plain, with an ordinary, unremarkable face, both in the Spirit Domain and in Du'e City.

But that was precisely the kind of appearance most suited for survival.

Yue Zhiheng understood that the two people in the room were not as easy to deal with as the palace guards in the underground palace. They were high-level evil spirits, with the potential to become Chizhi King one day. They were not someone he could easily kill.

If something happened to him here today, he would never see his sister and mother again. He might not even have a chance to see the world beyond the blood moon and dark river.

Before coming to Jianhuan Tower, Yue Zhiheng had gathered some information. The number of deaths there was countless each year, and the survivors were mostly obedient and adept at reading the situation.

So, when the imposing man in front of him asked if he knew how to serve, Yue Zhiheng answered, "Yes."

It was just a nightmare.

He hadn't grown up yet; he just wanted to stay alive.

The man before him began undressing. Despite being an evil spirit, his movements were fluid and casual. As if playing with Yue Zhiheng's emotions, he removed his outer robes slowly, sat down at the table, placed a soul whip and a dark curved sword beside him, and said to Yue Zhiheng, "Come here, kneel."

Laughter echoed from across the dark river, but if one listened more carefully, they could hear the muffled cries of pain underneath the laughter.

The night wind in Du'e City was bone-chilling. Yue Zhiheng didn't even know how he ended up kneeling.

He thought he could endure, just like he had endured hunger as a child or the pain of his mother destroying his meridians.

But this was completely different.

He was still young—only two more years to go before he would even be considered a small adolescent. No one had ever taught him what self-respect meant.

But something inside him, something cruel and light, seemed to be crushing his spine.

The man's hand pressed down on his head, paying no attention to the fact that there was a third person in the room. He tried to force Yue Zhiheng's head down.

In that moment, Yue Zhiheng wanted to tell himself to endure. He had grown up safely for eight years; in fact, he had grown healthier than all the other children in the underground palace.

His future was full of hope, wasn't it? He had his grandfather, and the Yue family, the family he dreamt of joining.

He should have endured.

But his head refused to bow, his gaze fixed on the sword that the evil spirit had placed beside him.

In that moment, Yue Zhiheng thought that perhaps today was the day he would die.

He chose to grab the sword.

However, before he could even bring it to the man's body, the man burst into laughter, raised his hand, and slapped him, sending Yue Zhiheng flying across the room.

Yue Zhiheng felt as though his internal organs had shifted, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.

The blood moon hung high outside the window, as if mocking his overestimation of his own abilities.

The man licked his lips and said, "I didn't expect a little scrap raised in such a place like the underground palace to dare touch a knife."

He shook the soul whip in his hand and walked toward Yue Zhiheng.

"Such fragrant ice lotus blood. I wonder which Chizhi King's descendant you are. You're not a defective product. What a pity, the underground palace never discovered it. When you beg in pain, I'm sure it will be much more enjoyable than watching your companions, won't it?"

Still young, the soul whip in the man's hand carried a strong aura of malice, and Yue Zhiheng couldn't help but feel fear. He forced himself not to retreat and tried to find something that could save him.

But all he could see were the blood-red moonlight, the silent dark river, and the flickering candlelight in the room. And another silent, gaunt evil cultivator standing nearby.

Just as the man's whip was about to strike, aiming for Yue Zhiheng's abdomen, someone moved faster than him.

A silver sword pierced the man's body.

Zhan Yunwei had quickly found the weapon belonging to Wen Xun.

It was a sword as thin as a cicada's wing, glowing with the light of the moon.

It was somewhat ironic. She had never imagined that one day, she would be unable to bear looking at Yue Zhiheng's expression.

At first, she had thought that in this situation, she would be able to witness the fear and dread of the infamous dynasty hounds.

And once they were outside, Yue Zhiheng would have something on her.

However, it only took half a cup of tea's time to find the weapon, and Zhan Yunwei saw despair spread across the young Yue Zhiheng's eyes. It was like someone who had just escaped the darkness, only to be dragged back into it once more.

His expression was hollow, vacant. Though he didn't tremble or show fear, something inside him seemed to silently settle into cold resignation.

Zhan Yunwei realized she couldn't wait any longer.

She wasn't Yue Zhiheng, she didn't have the Lotus of Compassionate Birth mark, and she couldn't use spiritual power in the Heavenly Formation. She could only attempt to channel the strength of her current role.

When she realized how powerless she was, she felt a kind of despair that resonated deep within her.

How could she save Yue Zhiheng?

Such emotions had come to her in dreams after Yue Zhiheng's death in her past life. But never before had it felt so real and urgent.

At this moment, Zhan Yunwei realized she didn't want to see Yue Zhiheng's expression. Even though their allegiances were different, if she were to deal with him, she wanted it to be under the clear moonlight of the Spirit Domain, facing him head-on.

Not here, not in the darkest moment of his life.

She wasn't sure if it was a burst of energy, but in the end, she had really summoned Wen Xun's sword.

This "Wen Xun" was an enigma. No one knew where he came from, but his life sword was so powerful that even after turning into an evil spirit, the sword still shone with its original brilliance.

The evil spirit never expected this. He had waited so long for a small evil being to dare draw a blade against him, but he ended up dying by the hands of his own high-level companion.

After his body dissipated, Zhan Yunwei finally saw Yue Zhiheng's expression clearly.

She took a step towards him, and Yue Zhiheng picked up the whip from the ground, coughing up blood, his guard up as he warned her, "Don't come closer."

She put down the life sword, and in a voice soft as though coaxing Ah Heng, she said, "I'm not coming closer."

Don't be afraid.

Zhan Yunwei's gaze landed on Yue Zhiheng's wrist, where it was clean and unmarked, without the Compassionate Lotus Mark.

So, after entering the formation, he had only opened one Compassionate Lotus Mark, and had used it on her Shen Jing (Illusory Realm).

She didn't know why, but she made a mental note to investigate it once they were out. She needed to find out the true nature of the Compassionate Lotus Mark.

If it could be used without restraint, then there was no reason for Yue Zhiheng to only open one.

Yue Zhiheng didn't hold out against her for long before he lost consciousness.

Even without awareness, his hand still tightly gripped the soul whip, as though using the last of his strength to cling to life.

Zhan Yunwei pursed her lips, walked over, and gently picked up the half-grown child.

Zhan Yunwei understood that this time, she was extremely clear-headed. Even if, later on, Yue Zhiheng would mock her in his heart, she would not have any regrets.

The formation of Shen Jing (Illusory Realm) was related to a person's memories and cognition.

The vengeful spirit in the Shen Jing had not guarded against her, which was why Zhan Yunwei had lucked into taking on Wen Xun's identity. Did this mean that in Yue Zhiheng's heart, he believed no one would come to save him from the Shen Jing?

Zhan Yunwei heard herself whisper softly, "I will find a way to get you out."