“Disciples of the Rongku Sect, take first place in the hunting competition.”

In April, under the clear Qing Ming¹ skies, spring was in full bloom.

On the wooden stands overlooking the hunting grounds, several sect masters of the Six Great Sects sat side by side, observing the distant scenery of the competition.

A cultivator dressed in black ascended the stage, holding a spirit beast. The sect master confirmed the spirit beast’s markings, preparing to pass it on to the next sect leader for inspection. The young sect master at the head of the group, seemingly worried about disturbing someone, said, “Hurry and take it away.”

He added, “My junior brother has always disliked the smell of blood.”

The sect master of Far Mountain Sect said this, causing the surrounding sect leaders to glance at his junior brother sitting beside him.

The cold and aloof Immortal Lord, who “always disliked the smell of blood,” sat to the side, holding a bowl of tea with one hand. His jade-like fingers gently brushed the tea lid as he gazed at the hunting grounds. His thin lips were slightly pursed, and his demeanor was distant and unapproachable.

His hair was tied with a jade crown, with two ribbons draping down, and he wore a flowing, moon-white wide-sleeved robe. His posture was upright and pure, utterly untouched by any speck of dust.

This was Lord Yue Zhao, Chu Hanjin, who was often called “Lord Mei Yi” or “Lord Zhe Xian” by the Six Sects. He was known for having nothing to do with anything dirty or impure, and his appearance was unparalleled in its beauty.

It was said that any cultivator who had seen him couldn’t help but shake their heads and click their tongues in amazement, marveling at how such a beautiful person could exist in this world. Some even claimed they would gladly die if given the chance to dual cultivate with him!

But that was just wishful thinking.

The reason was simple. The Far Mountain Sect cultivated a path of detachment, pure-heartedness, and emotionlessness.

Beneath that stunning and tempting exterior lay the coldest and most aloof heart.

At this moment, Lord Yue Zhao’s brows furrowed, his expression serious, though his fingertips absentmindedly tightened around the rim of the porcelain cup, unconsciously rubbing it.

He was still disturbed by the nightmare he had the previous night, and it was hard for him to focus on handling the Six Sects’ Spring Banquet.

For the usually composed and dignified Lord Yue Zhao, it had been an utterly terrible dream.

In the dream, he couldn’t make out the man’s face, but he could feel the presence of a tall, strong, and well-built young man dressed in a black robe with intricate gold embroidery. Everything was neatly in place, except for the bottom hem of his robe, which was recklessly open. The man’s actions were forceful as he pressed a cold and aloof man in white, his long black hair cascading down, onto a bed…

The cave was dark, with only a single lamp burning by the bedside, filling the air with a luxurious and intoxicating fragrance.

The man’s fingers traced over a pale chin, lifting a pair of misty, emotion-filled autumn eyes. Chu Hanjin focused, and to his shock, realized that the man being violated… had his face!

“…”

At this thought, Chu Hanjin’s brow tightened, and he nearly crushed the teacup in his hand.

Since emerging from his retreat, his cultivation had already reached the Sixth Stage of Transformation. But for some reason, he had recently been plagued by these filthy dreams. The problem was that Chu Hanjin had always been surrounded by pure, clean things—everything he saw, heard, smelled, and consumed was flawless. He had never even had an impure thought. Yet now, not only was he having inappropriate dreams, but they were filled with realistic details he had never experienced before.

Absolutely absurd.

What had gone wrong?

As he was deep in thought, a commotion arose from the hunting grounds.

“The hunt is over! All cultivators, return to your sect’s territory. No sword-flying, no speeding, no displaying of martial prowess, and no further release of spiritual energy!”

Yet, two individuals continued to fight over a spirit beast, their battle intensifying.

One of them pulled out a piercing arrow from his back, seemingly ignoring the disciple’s reprimand, aiming directly at the spirit beast lying on the ground.

“Scoundrel! Didn’t I say stop?!”

Just as the supervising disciple was about to intervene, there was a sudden whistle in the wind, followed by the sharp clang of arrows colliding. Another arrow had shot in from the side, knocking the first arrow to the ground with a forceful impact, causing it to shatter instantly.

It was such a precise shot that a stir erupted around them. “What amazing archery! Who could it be?”

A low voice responded, “Apologies.”

Not far away, a person lowered their arm, resting it on their quiver.

The individual had a massive sword wrapped in black cloth strapped to their back. Their left hand held a deep black bow, while their long black hair was tied high. They wore simple, plain hemp clothing, standing with a straight back, exuding a calm but intimidating aura.

However, their face was exceedingly ordinary.

So ordinary that one would forget it after just a glance, immediately dismissing any earlier thought of “he must be a handsome man!” This greatly undermined his otherwise powerful presence.

“I heard the command and acted to stop the arrow,” the person said, smiling as they grasped their heavy bow again. “I acted rashly, I hope I didn’t disturb anyone.”

Not only was there a buzz among the others, but even Chu Hanjin was mildly surprised: impressive skill.

The sword had no engravings, clearly indicating that this person was not from one of the major sects. Currently, all advanced martial arts were controlled by the Six Great Sects, so for someone from a smaller sect to reach such a level of cultivation was no small feat.

Despite making a big impression in front of everyone, the person stood there awkwardly, as if unsure how to leave the stage, and glanced up at the central platform where the sect masters were seated.

Whether intentionally or not, his gaze somehow met Chu Hanjin’s directly.

Chu Hanjin: “?”

The man, who should have left, paused, unconsciously tightening his grip on the bow.

He stared intently at Chu Hanjin.

The stare lasted so long that people around them began whispering.

“Huh?”

“What’s he looking at?”

“Isn’t he staring at Lord Yue Zhao? I mean, Lord Yue Zhao is incredibly handsome, but standing there so mesmerized, staring like that is just plain rude!”

“How bold! That’s so disrespectful!”

“…”

Chu Hanjin averted his gaze but wasn’t particularly angered.

He couldn’t help it. His good looks had attracted far too many admirers over the years, men and women alike. Ordinary admirers were nothing, but there were also fanatical ones. Like the former sect master who, after going mad, caught sight of Chu Hanjin as a young, tender child and broke years of cultivation to kidnap him to the Moonlight Palace. The Far Mountain Sect had gone through great efforts to retrieve him.

There was even a saying in the Six Sects, to test a cultivator’s resolve, see if they lose composure in front of Lord Yue Zhao.

If they blush and their heart races, then they clearly haven’t reached true enlightenment.

“Let’s go check out this rising star who’s taken first place in the hunting competition two years in a row!” Mu Lianchun suggested.

Chu Hanjin refocused his thoughts.

On the podium stood a young cultivator named Xue Wuya, dressed in the black robe of the Rongku Sect, with a colorful feather earring hanging from his left ear, brimming with youthful pride.

The sect masters exchanged compliments. “Congratulations to Sect Master Xing, your disciple has claimed the top spot!”

“My foolish disciple has much to learn.”

“If that’s considered foolish, then what does that make my disciples, who couldn’t even compare to yours?”

“Hahaha, didn’t Lord Yue Zhao also take first place for three consecutive years when he was a teenager? Sect Master Mu, how is your Pure Righteous Sword coming along? I heard you’ve been nurturing it with your own blood for ten years, and that you planned to showcase it at this year’s Spring Banquet. Why haven’t we seen it yet?”

“Let’s not talk about it, the timing just wasn’t right…”

The sect leaders of the Six Great Sects headed toward the inner hall.

With the hunting event over, they would soon return to the Far Mountain Sect’s halls to attend a three-day night banquet.

The night banquet, held by the riverbanks under the silver blossoms, involved drinking, playing music, singing, and making new connections. It was a rare annual event for the immortal sects.

But more than the night banquet, Chu Hanjin was relieved to leave the Spring Banquet. What concerned him more was his recurring nightmares.

Since coming out of his retreat, these nightmares had become more frequent, now almost a nightly occurrence, tormenting his mind. He hadn’t made any mistakes during his retreat. After 81 days, he emerged with his spiritual energy at the expected level.

…The only unexpected thing was that he had started having spring dreams. Several times, he had even woken up to familiar bodily reactions, as if what happened in the dream had actually taken place.

Something was definitely wrong.

Returning to his sleeping quarters, Chu Hanjin took out a scripture to read again. He instructed someone to fill a pool with water and, sliding off his robe, sank into the warm bath. Thin mist rose and curled around his pale, smooth skin, while the high water temperature gave his skin a slight pink hue.

There were spiritual tools in the water, allowing his body’s spiritual energy to flow more quickly.

His body, exhausted from the day, began to relax.

Chu Hanjin rested his long fingers on his chin, eyelids drooping as he drifted off, only to hear a “click” at the door.

It seemed something had come in?

He lifted his head, but the doorway was empty.

Chu Hanjin reached for a snow-white robe, putting it on neatly. Droplets of water slid down the tips of his black hair, giving his eyes a glossy, ink-black look and making his lips appear a delicate pink.

His voice was cold. “Whoever’s sneaking around, you can come out now.”

The figure of the young man with the giant sword from the afternoon appeared at the doorway.

How rude.

Earlier in the hunting grounds, when he had stared, it was in broad daylight, so Chu Hanjin hadn’t bothered to pursue the matter. But now this was his private residence—this was a full-on intrusion.

Chu Hanjin lowered his long lashes, spiritual energy beginning to gather subtly in his palm. “What is the meaning of this?”

The other man’s voice, as cold as if it had been soaked in ice, was deep and magnetic. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Looking for someone?”

He broke into Chu Hanjin’s private residence to look for someone?

That excuse was interesting.

A slight curve formed at the corner of Chu Hanjin’s lips. “This is the Moonlight Palace. Only I and a door boy live here. Could you be looking for him?”

He pointed a slender finger toward the boy, who was dozing off in a corner.

The sword-wielding man’s voice remained steady. “I’m looking for my wife.”

“…”

He said it with such a matter-of-fact tone.

He had intruded into someone’s private quarters without even offering an apology.

Chu Hanjin had intended to brush this off, considering the joyous occasion of the Spring Banquet, but now he was faintly angered. “You’ve come to the wrong place. There’s no wife of yours here.”

His raised voice startled the boy awake. The boy, without getting a good look at the situation, babbled incoherently, “Who dares to spy on the Immortal Lord bathing?! How shameless!”

“…”

The situation was getting increasingly ridiculous.

Chu Hanjin was about to silence the boy when, in the blink of an eye, the dark figure that had been standing a few meters away suddenly closed the distance, appearing directly in front of him.

The spiritual energy in Chu Hanjin’s palm was abruptly seized by his wrist, forcefully extinguished. He now found himself staring into a pair of deep golden eyes, like black iron steeped in darkness for years—cold, damp, and staring straight into his.

The man’s voice was hoarse. “No, you look like my wife.”

His voice was low and indulgent, and his breath, cold as it was, brushed against the side of Chu Hanjin’s face.

This statement only made Chu Hanjin feel utterly baffled: “?????”

Who is your wife??

Chu Hanjin gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to strike and spill blood, his palm filled with spiritual energy as he forced himself to endure.

His admirers were as obsessive as ever.

Aside from the sect master who once kidnapped him to raise him as a bride, there was the demon who claimed to be his biological father, wanting to take him back to the demon realm to raise him. Then there was the swindler who claimed that he and Chu Hanjin had shared a love spanning three lifetimes and had already been married twice.

The lies these swindlers came up with were simply unheard of and unimaginable.

And now, here was another one, directly calling him his wife, right?

“Get lost!”

Chu Hanjin drove his knee into the other man’s leg, while a weapon slipped from his sleeve and swiftly wrapped around Yue Lin’s wrist. The opponent dodged to the side, clearly aiming to restrain Chu Hanjin rather than attack.

Chu Hanjin seized his wrist and twisted it forcefully, shoving the man a few inches away before following up with a fierce kick. The man sidestepped just in time, and in that brief moment of distraction, Chu Hanjin’s sword flashed with a sharp gleam—

“Shhh!” The blade sliced through skin.

Chu Hanjin: “?”

He thought the man would dodge.

Unexpectedly, after the youth’s wrist bled, he seemed stunned, his expression turning extremely dark.

He lifted his gaze, his pale face showing an expression as if to say, “You actually hurt me?”

Chu Hanjin: “…………”

The youth lightly bit his teeth, his voice carrying a bone-deep coldness, as if there was a hint of pain. “Maybe I mistook you for someone else.”

With that, he flashed out of the sleeping chamber.

1. Qing Ming Festival: During Qing Ming, Chinese families visit the tombs of their ancestors to clean the gravesites and make ritual offerings to their ancestors. ↩︎