The Mountain Lord's Daughter

The esteemed Lord Yue practically shone like a beacon.

Zhan Yunwei, hearing the sudden coldness in his tone, felt a pang of regret. Yue Zhiheng knew what had happened but blamed her for meddling?

Pressing her lips together, she raised her gaze to meet his. "What does Lord Yue want me to remember?"

Yue Zhiheng's voice remained indifferent. "Miss Zhan is still a prisoner."

She shouldn't have spent all day provoking him, racking her brain to irritate him. He had seen her with Pei Yujing, her cheeks slightly flushed, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling. Had the Xian Sect not fallen, she might have married that man in a few years.

Yue Zhiheng also knew that Zhan Yunwei despised him, eager to leave as soon as possible.

But if not for the Emperor fearing the prophecy, did he truly want to be bound to her, enduring her resentment day and night?

At his reminder, Zhan Yunwei lowered her gaze, the account book in her hands suddenly feeling scalding. Although she hadn't acted with the intent of earning his gratitude, she hadn't expected Yue Zhiheng to respond so coldly.

After returning today, she vaguely realized she'd been impulsive.

The mute girl was Yue Zhiheng's relative, but the Second Madam and the old master were also closely connected to him.

Zhan Yunwei knew Yue Zhiheng might care about the mute girl, but her understanding came solely from the "fake wet nurse's" words.

In her memory, whether in this life or the last, as long as Yue Zhiheng was alive, he always protected the Yue family.

It wasn't until his downfall, when the tree fell and the monkeys scattered, that the Yue family faced confiscation and execution.

Strictly speaking, as an outsider, she really shouldn't have interfered in his family matters. Yue Zhiheng wasn't wrong; while she bore the title of his Dao partner, she was, in reality, just a prisoner of the dynasty.

Despite their opposing positions, she couldn't help but feel trust and pity toward him, stemming from memories of her past life.

It shouldn't be this way.

Pushing the account book toward him, she said listlessly, "I will remember Lord Yue's warning. I won't act this way again in the future."

The atmosphere grew cold and tense.

Perhaps because the superficial peace had been shattered, both of them felt a spark of anger simmering inside.

That afternoon, while Yue Zhiheng was in the study drawing designs for magical artifacts, the Queen sent over an invitation to the Huasi Banquet.

In previous years, as an unmarried man, only the Second Madam of the Yue household received such invitations. But this year, a second invitation was addressed to Zhan Yunwei.

However, a quarter of an hour later, the invitation was delivered to Yue Zhiheng's desk by a servant.

Yue Zhiheng glanced at it, his tone icy. "What does she mean by this?"

The servant, trembling with fear, relayed the young lady's message, "The young lady said a prisoner has no right to handle such invitations and left it for you to decide."

After enduring forty-seven lashes in the palace and learning that Zhan Yunwei had deliberately caused trouble for him, Yue Zhiheng had initially felt anger. But now, it was mingled with a sense of suffocation.

The servant, already terrified of his anger, was even more frightened when the seemingly calm magistrate gripped his porcelain pen so tightly it left an imprint. The servant broke into a cold sweat and knelt with a thud.

Yue Zhiheng withdrew his gaze, let out a cold laugh, and threw the pen aside. "Leave."

The servant fled in panic.

Pushing the invitation aside, Yue Zhiheng composed himself and picked up another pen, resuming his meticulous sketching.

He was designing artifacts for the next season at the Refined Spirit Pavilion. Every detail required careful annotation. While these artifacts were crafted annually by the Pavilion's artisans, Yue Zhiheng occasionally made a few himself when the Heavenly Guard Mansion wasn't too busy.

Artifacts he personally forged were rarely sold and were either reserved for the Mansion's use or displayed as treasures in the Pavilion.

By the time Yue Zhiheng finished his work, it was already midnight.

Putting down his pen, he approached the door and noticed that Zhan Yunwei had extinguished her candles long ago.

The courtyard was silent, the doors tightly shut—she, too, was angry with him.

It wasn't as if he needed sleep; during intense crafting periods, he often stayed awake for ten days straight.

Yet precisely because he knew his days were numbered, Yue Zhiheng had never denied himself comfort before Zhan Yunwei entered his life.

He lived recklessly, flamboyantly.

When he was sixteen, released from the forbidden grounds, he had shaken off the mute girl's grasp on his sleeve and sneered, "Better to stand and fight than live like a dog. Don't worry, I'll take care of myself. Others may not value my life, but I'll hold it tightly."

Because someone had once told him his life was not something to be casually surrendered.

From that day on, Yue Zhiheng followed the old master's teachings—learning crafting, talismans, formations, and archery. Not only mastering what others could, but delving into secrets most noble scions avoided.

Eventually, he rose to prominence, occupying a position of immense power and scorn. Yet Yue Zhiheng always found ways to indulge himself, even if he had no concept of what true luxury was for a proper Xian clan scion.

The Yue family's tutors never taught such frivolities.

Food, clothing, and daily necessities were his rudimentary introduction to enjoying life.

These habits persisted even after Zhan Yunwei stormed back into his life, serving as a reminder that her eventual departure would leave no trace.

Pushing open the door, he noticed the untouched lamp.

Having skipped dinner, Yue Zhiheng passed by the window and saw a small figure curled up inside.

The night sky over Fenhe County was devoid of stars, even the moon was absent. The heavens were heavy and dark, yet the window remained open.

Tomorrow would likely bring another dreary, rainy day.

Yue Zhiheng withdrew his gaze and walked past Zhan Yunwei with calm indifference.

After taking a few steps, he frowned, sensing something amiss.

Zhan Yunwei's breathing was heavier and irregular. Yue Zhiheng paused for a moment before stepping back and crouching down beside her.

"Zhan Yunwei, wake up."

Her lower face was tucked under the blanket, revealing only her delicate brows and eyes. Her long lashes trembled slightly, as if she were trapped in a nightmare. She didn't respond to his call.

Yue Zhiheng's frown deepened. "Zhan Yunwei."

She murmured softly, her voice faintly laced with sobs as she whispered, "Mother..."

Yue Zhiheng was familiar with Miss Zhan's background—she had no mother and was raised by the master of Changyan Mountain.

The anger he'd felt earlier in the day dissipated into a faint sense of futility and sarcasm in the night.

Reaching out, he touched her forehead and found it burning hot. He was silent for a moment before bending down to pick her up.

Was it his imagination, or had Zhan Yunwei become even lighter than before?

She seemed thinner these past few days.

Yue Zhiheng placed her on the bed. She clung to his neck, murmuring incoherently, "Mother, don't leave me..."

He leaned over and coldly pulled her soft, boneless hand away from his neck.

Don't call just anyone "mother," Miss Zhan.

The medical practitioner was dragged to Yue Mansion in the dead of night, expecting an emergency.

Since working for Yue Zhiheng, he'd grown accustomed to life-and-death situations. If the Heavenly Guard Mansion wasn't in a hurry, he'd arrive comfortably in his black-feather carriage. But if they were impatient, he'd be dragged there, often to find Yue Zhiheng on the brink of death.

This time, however, the magistrate appeared perfectly fine, standing behind the screen. "Check her condition."

Approaching the bed, the practitioner saw Zhan Yunwei's delicate face flushed with fever.

"It's an invasion of malignant energy—she's sick," the practitioner concluded.

Puzzled, he glanced at Yue Zhiheng. "Lord Yue, how did Madam contract such energy?"

"She's been sleeping on the floor for a few days," Yue Zhiheng replied.

The practitioner was incredulous. "You let a Spirit Master, sealed of her spiritual power, sleep on the floor?"

Yue Zhiheng met his gaze with a frown.

What's the problem? his expression seemed to ask.

He had slept in all kinds of places as a child. Zhan Yunwei, lying on thick mats on the floor in summer, had it far better than his winter days without proper clothing. The sect often forgot to deliver rations, and he and his sister had even eaten snow out of desperation.

When the Heavenly Guard Mansion captured criminals, they subjected them to all manner of torment. Compared to those punishments, what Zhan Yunwei had endured was trivial—he hadn't touched her, hadn't struck her, and, though the food was plain, she hadn't gone hungry. And still, she fell ill?

The practitioner shook his head with a sigh. "Lord Magistrate, Spirit Masters are physically fragile. You mustn't treat them this way in the future."

Yue Zhiheng almost wanted to sneer. Should I worship this troublemaker instead?

But a glance at the unconscious Zhan Yunwei tempered his reluctance. "Understood," he muttered.

The practitioner took out a soul-purifying jade token, using it to cool her fever while chattering on. His own wife was a Spirit Master, and their long marriage had given him plenty of insights, which he now shared at length.

Realizing he'd been rambling, he looked up nervously at Yue Zhiheng, worried the easily angered magistrate might lose patience. But Yue Zhiheng simply stared at him, listening without expression.

Frightened, the practitioner reluctantly fell silent.

Outside the door, Shihu stood with reddened eyes, inwardly berating herself.

She should never have burdened the young mistress with her trivial problems, leading to the magistrate's reprimand.

Though young and naïve, Shihu had begun to sense that Zhan Yunwei's status and position were not as secure as they appeared.

Once the practitioner left, Yue Zhiheng instructed Shihu to enter and change Zhan Yunwei's clothes.

Shihu knelt and sobbed, "Master Yue, this wasn't Madam's fault—it was my loose tongue."

Yue Zhiheng's voice was cold. "What are you talking about?"

Terrified, Shihu explained the events of the day: how the servants in Yue Zhiheng's courtyard received the smallest rations in the household, and how Zhan Yunwei had argued with the steward over the mute girl's provisions.

Through tears, Shihu added, "Madam said it was outrageous. How dare they take your things and insult you behind your back?"

Expecting punishment, Shihu braced herself.

But after a long silence behind the curtain, Yue Zhiheng's voice came, low and measured. "Go in and change her clothes."

Shihu, trembling, entered as Yue Zhiheng stepped behind the screen.

Seeing Zhan Yunwei drenched in sweat from the exorcism of the malignant energy, Shihu quickly fetched water to wipe her down and change her into fresh nightclothes.

When she finished, Yue Zhiheng was still outside, leaning against the screen. His profile was cold and distant, but there was a trace of distraction in his expression.

"Master, it's done," Shihu said softly.

"Mm. Leave."

Shihu found it odd. Though young, she understood that Dao partners needn't be so scrupulous. For Yue Zhiheng to avoid the room while she changed Zhan Yunwei's clothes was unnecessary.

Later that night, another strange thing happened. Yue Zhiheng picked up the bowl of medicine, stared at Zhan Yunwei's lips for a long moment, then handed it to Shihu. "You do it."

Though her fever had subsided, Zhan Yunwei remained tormented by nightmares.

Afraid she might choke if left lying down, Shihu hesitated. "Master, could you support Madam while I feed her the medicine?"

Yue Zhiheng lowered his eyes slightly and let Zhan Yunwei lean against him. Shihu couldn't discern his expression.

After Zhan Yunwei's fever subsided, her body cooled quickly, and feeding her medicine became much easier. Each time the spoon approached, she would obediently open her mouth to drink.

Some of the liquid still spilled from the corner of her mouth. Shihu hurried to find a silk handkerchief, but before she could move, a slender hand reached out and gently wiped the corner of Zhan Yunwei's lips.

Yue Zhiheng's expression remained as indifferent as ever, yet the sight inexplicably made Shihu blush.

The latter part of the process went more smoothly. With the handkerchief prepared, Zhan Yunwei's newly changed nightclothes remained clean.

By the time everything was settled, it was nearly dawn.

"Madam is fine now," Shihu said. "Master, you should rest as well."

Yue Zhiheng washed his hands, staring at his reflection in the water. He didn't respond.

Once Shihu left, Zhan Yunwei still hadn't woken.

Yue Zhiheng walked to the bedside and gazed down at her. Her complexion had improved significantly. The night before, she had looked as wilted as frostbitten eggplant, but now her face was vibrant and full of life again.

Since her fever broke, she hadn't murmured in her sleep or called out for her mother. She lay quietly, exuding a gentleness that seemed worlds apart from the commanding presence she had displayed during her use of Spirit Control Technique.

Yue Zhiheng hadn't expected the truth to be what it was, nor had he anticipated that Zhan Yunwei would defend him.

He had always known the second lady of the household disdained him. The older servants were aware of his origins but chose to remain silent, while the newer ones didn't dare cross him.

Throughout his life, so few people had ever stood up for him.

Over time, he had convinced himself that he had never been wronged—or that he could repay any injustice twofold. It had become second nature to him.

Besides, wasn't he now living better than all of them?

And yet, it felt as if an invisible string were tightening around his heart, bringing with it an unfamiliar ache and bitterness that almost made him want to laugh.

He thought about the things he had said in his misunderstanding.

"Miss Zhan," he said with a low chuckle, "you're quite capable."

Regret was not a feeling he thought someone like him would ever experience.

Zhan Yunwei dreamed that strange dream again, though, once more, she couldn't see her "mother's" face clearly.

When she woke, the sun was already high in the sky. She realized she had gone to sleep on the floor but had woken in bed.

Yue Zhiheng had already left for his duties at the Heavenly Guard Mansion. Shihu, however, came in cheerfully. "Madam, you're awake!"

From Shihu's demeanor, it was clear something good had happened.

Indeed, Shihu announced, "Master Yue said we will now manage the accounts for the Spirit Refining Pavilion ourselves. The monthly wages for the servants in the courtyard will also be under our control."

Zhan Yunwei hadn't expected Yue Zhiheng to have a sudden change of heart overnight.

Not only that, but he returned unusually early that day. He handed her a box, and under her puzzled gaze, he said, "This is an apology gift."

This was truly a rare occurrence!

Unable to resist, she looked up at him. Yue Zhiheng smiled faintly. "Aren't you going to open it?"

Inside was a finely crafted mirror made of obsidian, gold, and bronze. The back was intricately carved with four fire phoenixes soaring among clouds. She couldn't identify the material of the mirror's surface, but it felt cool to the touch, with a faint tremor of spiritual energy.

The handle bore an inconspicuous ice lotus imprint.

She had a suspicion and exclaimed in delight, "Is this the Mirror of All Worlds?"

Yue Zhiheng nodded.

Zhan Yunwei had long heard of this famous artifact, a masterpiece from an ancient master craftsman. The crafting technique had been lost to time, and she never expected someone in the present era to recreate it.

It was said that if sufficient spiritual energy was channeled into the Mirror of All Worlds, one could see the location of anyone they desired.

No place to hide—everything visible in the mirror.

Wouldn't that mean she could see her father's condition?

"You're really giving this to me? Why?"

Yue Zhiheng glanced at her. "I misunderstood you yesterday. I thought you were... deliberately trying to make things difficult for me."

Zhan Yunwei quickly deduced the source of the misunderstanding. "Did your guards not hear the steward and me speaking?"

"Mm."

"Aren't they supposed to be watching me?"

Yue Zhiheng couldn't help but give her a look. "Miss Zhan, do you really think I'm so despicable? They're just keeping an eye on you to prevent you from escaping. No one is eavesdropping on your conversations."

To her surprise, Yue Zhiheng seemed remarkably principled in some peculiar ways.

Since it was a misunderstanding, and Yue Zhiheng had offered such a valuable gift in apology, Zhan Yunwei wasn't petty. She confirmed, "You're really giving this to me? No takebacks?"

"You seem to like it," Yue Zhiheng said, watching her closely. "But wasn't it just the other day that Miss Zhan refused to accept anything I made?"

Zhan Yunwei hadn't expected him to notice her deliberate neglect of the silver lotus-patterned artifact he had previously given her.

But the Mirror of All Worlds was different. Even if it were a trap, she would still take it.

For her, it had only been a month since she last saw her father. In reality, though, it had been years of separation by life and death.

"I was wary of Master Yue before," she admitted. "But now, it seems I'm starting to understand you a little."

She never imagined Yue Zhiheng would one day apologize to her—or give her the Mirror of All Worlds.

This artifact... If Yue Zhiheng kept it, he could locate Pei Yujing.

Yet, he gave it to her.

"You still can't find Brother Pei after so long. Won't the Spirit Emperor be angry?"

Yue Zhiheng glanced at the mirror. "Originally, His Majesty didn't think I could make it."

Previously, the Heavenly Guard Mansion had been using some imitation, unfinished products. Besides, was it so easy to catch Pei Yujing and the remnants of Penglai? Yue Zhiheng was a man, not a god.

Even if he knew where they were, it would probably be a deadly battle.

Attacking on someone else's turf was different from fighting on his own. Yue Zhiheng wasn't foolish, nor was he reckless.

Even if he remained loyal to the Spirit Emperor and sought power and status, it was only under the premise of keeping his life safe.

Pei Yujing had the surviving experts of the immortal sects by his side. Only a madman would lead their trusted followers to the mortal realm to strike at their stronghold.

Better to let Zhan Yunwei see the person she wanted to see and avoid making things more complicated. That way, everyone would be better off.

"But I don't have spiritual power. I can only use spirit stones."

Her father was in the mortal realm, and it would probably take a lot of spirit stones to use the mirror once.

Zhan Yunwei stared at Yue Zhiheng without blinking.

He took a sip of tea. "What are you looking at me for?"

Asking Yue Zhiheng for money, she might need thousands of spirit stones, and she couldn't do that on her own.

"Master Yue, I heard you've taken back the account books."

"Mm."

"Then, do you need someone to manage the household expenses?" Her almond-shaped eyes were shining. "What do you think of me?"

Yue Zhiheng had been waiting for her to bring it up.

But he still asked, "Do you know how to manage them?"

Zhan Yunwei smiled confidently. "Of course. Every Spirit Master should know how to do that."

Whether male or female, Spirit Masters usually married into prestigious families, becoming wives or husbands, and wouldn't concern themselves with managing finances.

However, back at the Academy, she excelled in all subjects, and managing the household finances was no problem.

Yue Zhiheng had previously given the accounts of the Spirit Refining Pavilion to the Second Lady for three reasons. The first was that his Heavenly Guard Mansion was truly busy, and refining weapons took a lot of time. The second reason was that his self-taught studies didn't cover managing finances.

The most important reason was the agreement he made with Old Master Yue. He had to uphold the family's reputation.

As long as he was alive, he had to take care of the Yue family.

But that didn't mean he would let them walk all over him and secretly get on top of him.

Without the Spirit Refining Pavilion, he would see how the others in the mansion would fill the financial gap.

Yue Zhiheng looked at Zhan Yunwei. For the first time, he saw such an eager look in her eyes.

He said, "Then I'll leave it to Miss Zhan. To repay you…"

Seeing her expression growing more delighted, he smiled. "How about I give you a ten percent profit every season as a token of appreciation?"

Ten percent of the Spirit Refining Pavilion's earnings! That was twenty-eight thousand spirit stones.

Yue Zhiheng was so generous. In this life and the previous one, Zhan Yunwei had never felt Yue Zhiheng shine so brightly.

Her father had never given her so much money.

Zhan Yunwei returned the favor. "Then, Master Yue, is there anything else you need me to do for you? Perhaps attend the Queen's flower banquet in a couple of days?"

She promised that if she were to praise Yue Zhiheng now, it would be from the heart.