Chu Hanjin shifted his foot away. “You…”

But Yue Lin pressed down again, saying, “It’s okay.”

His compliance, for some reason, stirred an indescribable feeling in Chu Hanjin. His hand instinctively rested on Yue Lin’s shoulder.

Chu Hanjin lowered his eyes to look at him.

He wasn’t made of stone. When someone was good to him, he naturally wanted to be good in return.

Yue Lin smiled and said, “Your body’s in a delicate state. If you ever feel uncomfortable, just let me know, don’t hold it in. Soon it won’t just be swelling—you’ll also experience back pain and soreness.”

He dried Chu Hanjin’s feet with a soft cloth and placed them on the bed before stepping out to pour water. “I’ll be right back.”

For a moment, Chu Hanjin was confused—how had they become so close, so naturally?

What kind of magic did Yue Lin possess? What made him different?

Chu Hanjin’s gaze followed him as Yue Lin moved about, tidying the bed.

Noticing that Chu Hanjin had been watching him, Yue Lin playfully scratched under his chin like teasing a cat. “What are you staring at?”

Chu Hanjin froze for a moment, averting his eyes. “Nothing…”

Yue Lin had already climbed into bed and lifted the blanket. “Ready to sleep?”

The dragon-phoenix bed and mandarin-duck quilt—items meant for a married couple. Chu Hanjin lay down slowly, but as soon as he settled, Yue Lin placed a pillow under his legs. “This will help the blood flow back and reduce the swelling.”

Chu Hanjin nodded slightly, adjusting the blanket. He couldn’t help but think of his childhood when his mother would gently hold his feet in her lap during cold winter nights.

Now, being held in Yue Lin’s arms, he felt that same warmth.

Yue Lin’s eyes reflected Chu Hanjin’s image. “Shall we begin tonight?”

Another round of ‘nourishment.’

Chu Hanjin nodded.

He felt Yue Lin’s hands press gently on the back of his neck, a light squeeze sending a numbing sensation through him. His consciousness began to fade.

But he didn’t completely lose awareness.

As he drifted into a dream, he found himself in a chaotic and ever-changing landscape.

At that moment, Chu Hanjin felt a chill surround him. He dreamt of a desolate courtyard covered in snow and ice. Voices echoed nearby: “The concubine has passed!”

Someone asked, “What about the little prince?”

“The baby was born! It’s a boy! Heaven help us, he almost died in the womb, his neck nearly strangled.”

“Thank goodness!” A clumsy maid carried the baby in her arms, walking through the snow, patting away the afterbirth and using the snow to melt a pot of hot water, cleaning the infant thoroughly.

“Shall we report to His Majesty?”

“Yes, let’s go.”

The two women bundled the baby up and ventured into the freezing snow, arriving at the grand palace’s gates. They handed the child to a guard and waited in the snow.

After about half an hour, the baby was returned, now with a tag attached to the swaddling clothes. The tag read “Yue Lin.”

Chu Hanjin’s heart stirred.

In the blink of an eye, they were back in the small courtyard. The maid was chopping firewood in the snow, while a child, round like a radish, sat nearby, wearing a necklace with a bamboo doll, playing with a bamboo dragonfly.

With a soft breath, the bamboo dragonfly flew up, soaring high into the sky.

The maid, her face red from the cold, clapped her hands. “Well done, young master!”

The child’s eyes sparkled. “Nanny.”

The maid said, “With your talents, young master, you’ll be enrolled in the academy by age three, cultivate your inner core, and win His Majesty’s favor. Then we’ll all live in luxury.”

Little Yue Lin lowered his head, his expression forlorn. “Is His Majesty my father?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Why doesn’t he ever come to see me?”

“His Majesty is busy with state affairs. He can’t attend to everything. But if you cultivate well and outshine your brothers, His Majesty will notice you and come to like you.”

Little Yue Lin shook his head and remained silent, continuing to play with the bamboo dragonfly.

Another blink, and it was late autumn, during a torrential storm. Thunder and lightning crashed outside, and the wind howled, slamming against the windows. Two servants stood outside in the courtyard, hands clasped together, their faces lit by the glow of the lanterns.

“He refuses to go to the academy, stubborn to the point of making himself ill. The Ninth Prince is…”

“Is it serious?”

“Very. He can’t speak, hasn’t eaten in days, and keeps vomiting bile. His fever is high and he’s barely conscious, constantly crying for his nanny.”

For a moment, the maid’s eyes softened, but she shook her head. “The academy starts today. His Majesty rarely comes. If he doesn’t see him this time, who knows how long we’ll have to endure stale leftovers. The other nannies are already wearing silk, while we’re stuck raising this difficult child. I don’t see an end to this.”

“Quiet, what if the young master hears?”

“Let him hear. He’s supposed to have a spiritual root, yet has no ambition! And he still cries for his nanny—I’m done taking care of him.”

The two servants went inside to pack up their things. A gust of cold wind blew open the thin window panes, and Chu Hanjin saw a small figure lying on the bed, face pale, eyes turned toward the window.

He had heard everything.

No one tucked him in, and the blanket had fallen to the floor, leaving Yue Lin shivering, his arms turning blue with cold, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

Chu Hanjin felt a sharp pang in his chest and walked closer, picking up the blanket and gently patting it over him.

Another blink, and they were at a banquet. The hall was filled with the sound of clinking glasses and people coming and going. Little Yue Lin, no more than three or four years old, stood timidly in a corner for a long time. He heard someone call for the “Third Prince” and looked up to see a girl with striking features.

It seemed like he had found someone he recognized. Nervously, he approached the girl and softly called out, “Sister?”

—I am your ninth brother.

Chu Hanjin read his lips, recognizing the words.

But in the next moment, he was harshly pushed away.

“Who are you? Your clothes are filthy!” The girl frowned. “Why are you touching me? Are you sick?”

“Who is he?”

“I don’t know. Ugh, how rude!”

Little Yue Lin was left standing there, his face pale and confused.

Amid the laughter, a richly dressed young man approached, crouching down to look at him. “You’re our ninth brother, aren’t you? Do you want to play with us?”

Little Yue Lin nodded shyly.

The young man smiled. “Of course! Tomorrow we’re going to the riverbank. Will you come? It’ll be fun—we’ll catch fish, pick lotus pods, swim—there’s so much to do.”

Yue Lin’s face lit up with joy, and he nodded enthusiastically. He was beyond excited. The next day, he arrived early at the lotus pond and waited. He waited from noon until the sun set, but not a single person appeared.

Disappointed, he was about to leave when a small boy finally arrived, dressed in green and about the same age as Yue Lin.

The boy spoke softly, “They were too tired after the banquet this morning, so they decided not to come. But Third Sister said you should pick a few lotus pods for her. She wants to boil them for a tonic. Why don’t you get in the water? I’ll keep watch for you.”

Little Yue Lin was furious. “If they weren’t coming, why didn’t they tell me sooner?”

The boy in green looked surprised at his anger, his voice growing softer. “I’m sorry. They were having so much fun they forgot. I had to remind Third Sister. She said once you pick the lotus pods, you can join us for dinner.”

Little Yue Lin: “I’m not picking them.”

The boy in green frowned slightly, sounding troubled. “You’re a few months older than me. You’re my ninth brother, right? But if you don’t pick the lotus pods, Third Sister will be angry and hit me. Do you really want me to get punished?”

Hearing this, Little Yue Lin’s expression softened. After studying the boy for a moment, he asked, “You’re my brother?”

The boy smiled softly. “Yes, Ninth Brother.”

Little Yue Lin hesitated for a moment, then said, “Fine, I’ll pick them. You’re younger, so I’ll protect you.”

With that, he stripped off his clothes and stepped onto the stones leading into the pond. But as soon as he stepped on a patch of slippery moss, he lost his balance. Just as he stumbled, he felt a cold breeze behind him and a pair of hands pushed down hard on his head—

Gurgle gurgle—

Little Yue Lin was submerged.

The pressure grew stronger—

He thrashed, trying to surface.

But the more he struggled, the harder the boy in green pressed, his gentle voice continuing, “Ninth Brother, don’t blame me. They said you needed to learn a lesson. I’m just following orders from my sister. If I didn’t, it would’ve been me thrown into the river.”

The boy only released him once Little Yue Lin stopped moving. After confirming there was no more struggle, he straightened his sleeves and stood up.

He washed the mud off his cuffs and left the lotus pond without a second glance.

After the boy left, Little Yue Lin slowly resurfaced.

He wasn’t stupid.

He had pretended to drown, holding his breath the entire time.

His head was covered in moss, his mouth full of mud, his face smeared with filth, a mess of blue and yellow stains. He looked down at his reflection, then angrily snapped a lotus leaf in half, staggering to the pond’s edge to vomit.

Between bouts of retching, he furiously wiped the mud and tears from his face.

When he finally cleaned himself up, his face was etched with anger.

Chu Hanjin began to understand.

What was this?

Were these all Yue Lin’s memories?

He followed the younger Yue Lin as the boy dressed in his soaking clothes and stumbled back to his dormitory at the academy. There, he threw away all the bamboo dragonflies, wooden dolls, and whistles meant to win friends. He dumped them into the trash and took out his study materials.

Under the dim light of the solitary lamp, he sat alone, engrossed in his books.

Chu Hanjin sat beside him, keeping him company until late into the night.

As time passed, Chu Hanjin’s eyes began to droop, the sound of chanting growing louder in his ears. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a large, brightly lit hall filled with desks. At the head of the hall sat a stern, bearded elder.

In a corner, someone spoke.

“Ninth Prince, I couldn’t finish the incantation from yesterday. Can I copy yours?”

It was a child about seven or eight years old.

Next to him sat another boy, also seven or eight, with handsome yet somber features. He sat with one leg propped on the stool, the incantation he had written neatly placed on his desk, while he idly doodled on another sheet of paper.

It was Yue Lin.

He had grown significantly since his earlier years, now a small youth. Glancing sideways, he asked, “What did you say?”

The boy smiled, correcting himself. “Yue Lin, not Ninth Prince. My mistake, sorry.”

Yue Lin scoffed. “Take it.”

After copying the incantation, the boy peeked at Yue Lin’s paper. “What are you writing?”

Yue Lin spread the paper out, saying, “I’ve created a new spell. I don’t know if it’ll work, so I’m running some calculations.”

“You can already create spells? That’s amazing! What kind of spell is it?”

As they spoke, the elder at the front of the hall silently approached. His expression stern, he took the thin sheet of paper from Yue Lin’s desk. After a brief glance, his look of reproach turned to one of surprise. “You’re in the first-level class, and yet you’ve created a third-level spell?”

But Yue Lin showed no joy at the compliment. Instead, he snatched the paper back and tore it into pieces. His thin lips pressed tightly together. “I was just scribbling.”

His friend winced and backed off.

The elder’s expression grew complicated, as if he wanted to say something, but after a moment, he shook his head.

Walking a few steps away, the elder used a fourth-level spell to send a telepathic message to Yue Lin: “Why reveal your killing intent so soon?”

Yue Lin’s fingers trembled slightly over the torn paper.

He heard it.

But he kept his head down and said nothing.

For the next few years, the elder remained by Yue Lin’s side, seated in a chair, teaching him about talismans, alchemy, seals, formations, spiritual flow, mental cultivation, external techniques, and swordsmanship.

In the academy, everyone referred to the elder as “Instructor.”

But in private, Yue Lin called him “Master.”

Amid the chaos, the sound of chanting and scripture reading from countless mornings and evenings echoed until it finally led to this day.

In a grand Daoist hall, everyone knelt on the ground, except for one tall figure standing like a pine tree at the forefront. His thick cloak billowed in the wind, his sharp, deep-set eyes gazing forward, one hand idly rolling several blood-red beads between his fingers.

Five beads—yet he held only three.

The remaining two were deeply embedded in a youth’s flesh, bursting open, soaking his robes with blood. The young man was half-kneeling on the ground, his wolfish eyes burning with undisguised murderous intent.

The Lord of the Vast Plains nodded approvingly. “Good son. So young, and already trying to kill me. A bit premature, but impressive technique. You’re far better than your siblings.”

He wasn’t angry—in fact, he smiled and said, “Reward him.”

Then, with a casual tone, he added, “But that teacher of yours who taught you all those incantations… He overstepped his bounds. It’s one thing for my son to want to kill me—that’s just an internal power struggle. But for him to aid in regicide? That’s treason. Unforgivable.”

With a slight gesture of his hand, the elder kneeling on the ground suddenly convulsed as though his throat had been gripped tight. His pupils dilated, bulging from his eye sockets.

Yue Lin let out a heart-wrenching scream, “Master!”

He raised his sword and charged at the Lord of the Vast Plains, while the remaining three blood beads flew towards his abdomen. One was shattered by his sword energy, but the others “thunk” deep into his flesh, the force driving them straight to his dantian, causing him to collapse, spewing a mist of blood from his throat—

The sound of bones snapping echoed.

With his vision swimming, he saw his master being strangled by invisible hands, the man’s body twisting and contorting, nearly crushed into a pulp. Then, a hand plunged into his abdomen, quickly extracting a blood-soaked golden core.

The Lord of the Vast Plains wiped the blood from his fingers and tossed the core at Yue Lin’s feet. It rolled a few times before coming to a stop. “Your master’s love for you was truly commendable. Use it to heal yourself—don’t let him die in vain.”

Yue Lin’s tears mixed with the blood pooling on the stone floor.

He looked at the blood-stained golden core, his throat emitting a choked sound.

Chu Hanjin felt a searing pain spread through his body.

He understood.

Yue Lin was in pain.

At the same time, a boiling fury surged in his chest.

Yue Lin was enraged.