Patricide?

In the mortal world, that was an unforgivable crime.

What kind of deep-seated hatred would drive someone to kill their own father?

Chu Hanjin didn’t understand much about Yue Lin’s past. He nodded slightly and asked, “Is there more?”

“More? Back then, I was deeply immersed in cultivating the Dao, entirely consumed by a vow to surpass my father, with my heart filled with hatred,” Yue Lin turned to him. “My life revolved around practicing magic, nothing else. Now, I’ve discovered I like you… and realized that loving someone brings much more joy than hating someone.”

In just a few words, he mentioned his affection again, causing Chu Hanjin to avert his gaze. “Let’s go.”

He led the horse forward again.

After navigating around a mountain ridge, they came across a dense forest. The path was littered with trampled grass and chopped-down trees, signs that someone had been here before. It was likely just the two of them.

The trees were thick, but there was no sound of birds, and the air was heavy with moisture. Breathing here felt more burdensome than in other places.

Chu Hanjin spoke up, “Yue Lin?”

Yue Lin glanced at him, “I know.”

He performed a hand gesture, casting a spell that struck a giant tree nearby, leaving a deep black mark. He paused, “Magic is more restricted here. I can only use about ten percent of my power.”

The stronger the restriction, the closer they must be to the formation’s core.

He grabbed the reins again. “Let’s keep moving.”

Chu Hanjin glanced around, feeling a strange sense of familiarity. As the horse’s hooves trampled the decaying leaves, a sudden memory resurfaced. “I’ve been here before.”

In a fleeting fragment of memory, it was pouring rain. He stood there, holding a sword, drenched and confused about why he was in this place. Yue Lin had come with an umbrella, offering him shelter.

Yue Lin tilted his head, “Hmm?”

Chu Hanjin said, “There’s something wrong here.”

They continued to press forward.

After about half an hour, they encountered the same giant tree that Yue Lin had blasted earlier, its blackened mark eerily visible.

The horse stopped, pawing the ground impatiently.

“Are we back where we started?” Chu Hanjin asked.

Yue Lin replied, “I didn’t retrace our steps, but we’ve returned to the same spot. There’s something here—probably the formation’s core.”

Formations could have great effects, but their core was often a weak point. To prevent discovery, those who created such formations would use defenses and illusions to hide and protect the core, ensuring that no one could break the formation.

Yue Lin rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, while Chu Hanjin dismounted.

He tied the horse to a tree and patted its head, saying, “Don’t run off now. I’ll need you later. When we’re done, I’ll get you something good to eat.”

Turning around, his expression became more serious.

Perhaps the formation sensed the intrusion, as a few bolts of white lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a rumbling of thunder. Yue Lin instinctively glanced at Chu Hanjin.

Chu Hanjin placed his hand on his sword’s hilt. “I’m fine.”

The standoff didn’t last long. Yue Lin cast a spell, filtering out the distractions, and headed towards the center of the formation. Before long, they encountered an irregular ring of fallen leaves, which signaled the second layer of the formation.

Yue Lin tossed a small spirit-infused stone into the pile of leaves.

Boom!

The stone was instantly struck by lightning and reduced to powder.

Yue Lin clicked his tongue. “The core is likely in there. But anything with spiritual energy will be struck by lightning. If a person went in, they’d be turned to ash.”

Chu Hanjin stared at the scene for a moment and asked, “What kind of formation is this?”

Formations had various uses: protection, killing, healing, and support. Chu Hanjin pondered for a moment. “If we can clear these leaves, we should be able to identify the formation.”

Yue Lin glanced at him. “Let me try.”

Without warning, he stepped into the formation.

“!!!” Chu Hanjin quickly asked, “What are you doing?”

When Yue Lin entered, the formation didn’t immediately attack.

He took a few steps forward, and thunderclouds began to gather above, rumbling ominously. However, Yue Lin continued straight toward the center of the formation. His steps stirred the leaves, revealing dark red soil underneath, with intricate symbols hidden beneath.

Chu Hanjin took one look and recognized it immediately.

It was a killing formation.

Some formations were designed simply to kill, but others were more sinister, refining those who died within them into sword spirits to serve the caster.

As he saw the complex red sigils at the formation’s center, a sharp pain pierced Chu Hanjin’s mind.

Yue Lin’s steps faltered as well.

He saw it too!

The souls of those who had perished in this formation began to rise from the blood-red mist, countless bones emerging from the earth. Among them—

A figure in white robes lay motionless on the ground.

His dark hair was long and flowing, trailing in the dirty mud, his face smeared with blood and grime, tainting his jade-like complexion. His black eyes were void of life, and blood trickled from the corner of his lips as he lay prone, struck repeatedly by lightning—

That person had a face exactly like Chu Hanjin’s!

Surrounding him were laughing ghostly heads, eagerly circling the body in white, like hungry wolves waiting for their prey to fall so they could devour him.

The figure in white looked increasingly fragile. Though he could fight back, he remained motionless, as if cursed, vomiting blood again and again…

Chu Hanjin felt a chill run down his spine. Was this what had happened to him when he was trapped in this formation?

Yue Lin approached, seemingly trying to help the man, but quickly realized it was an illusion. Only the vicious ghostly heads around him were real, snarling and baring their fangs.

The thunder roared louder, with an explosive crack.

Then… the first strike.

The second.

The third!

Each bolt of lightning aimed straight for Yue Lin’s head. He stood there, unmoving, and after a moment, he let out a frustrated roar, “Don’t you recognize your master?”

His shout sent a gust of wind roaring through the formation. Chu Hanjin had just stepped into the formation to pull Yue Lin back when, suddenly, all the lightning stopped.

Yue Lin reached the formation’s center, where the leaves had been blown away, revealing a blood-red octagonal formation. The intricate symbols and patterns were inscribed in the center. Although they held the power to create a massive barrier, right now, it appeared as nothing more than a small hexagram.

Yue Lin didn’t destroy the hexagram. Instead, he casually pried it out of the ground. The formation, recognizing its master, glowed with a menacing white light, as if ready to burn his hand. But Yue Lin deftly removed a few of the glyphs, and the formation calmed down, lying obediently in his palm.

Lowering his eyes, Yue Lin studied the formation silently, deep in thought.

Meanwhile, Chu Hanjin scanned the surroundings. The oppressive atmosphere had lifted, and the forest seemed clearer and greener than before. The blood-red symbols on the ground had disappeared.

Chu Hanjin looked at Yue Lin.

After a long pause, he asked, “You said earlier… this formation belongs to you?”

Yue Lin turned his calm gaze toward him.

Just from that look, Chu Hanjin seemed to understand something and stood silently in place.

They stared at each other for a while before Chu Hanjin broke the silence. “Did you regain your memories?”

Yue Lin nodded, holding the formation in his hand as he walked closer. “I did. The moment I saw you lying in the formation, I remembered. I was the one who pulled you out of here before.”

Chu Hanjin fell silent, not sure why.

This Yue Lin standing before him was no longer the same man from the past month, who had forgotten everything. This was the real Yue Lin—the one who had loved him deeply, with a heavy heart.

The one who loved him with an overwhelming intensity.

Chu Hanjin composed himself and repeated, “You haven’t answered my question.”

Yue Lin nodded. “Yes, this is my formation—the one I used to refine sword spirits. I don’t know why it ended up here.” He pointed to the pattern in his palm, “Maybe after I died, someone took my formation and buried it here…”

He thought for a moment and laughed, “Perhaps they wanted to refine me into a sword spirit. But this formation recognizes its master. Even if it’s been modified to strike me with lightning, it would never refine me.”

That’s why, when Yue Lin shouted, the formation recognized his voice and immediately calmed down.

Chu Hanjin pondered for a while. “So why was I in the formation?”

Yue Lin looked at him with meaning. “Because someone wanted to refine you into a sword spirit.”

Chu Hanjin felt a chill run down his spine, frowning as he stared at him.

“Why me?”

“The Far Mountain Sect cultivates spiritual energy, and yours is pure and powerful—a perfect choice for refining a sword spirit,” Yue Lin explained. “I’ve told you before, someone wants to kill you. They erased your memories and placed a puppet curse on you so you couldn’t resist, ensuring you’d be refined into a sword.”

At this point, the pieces of the puzzle started coming together for Chu Hanjin.

He glanced at the formation in Yue Lin’s hand. “This is your sword-refining formation?”

Yue Lin nodded. “Yes.”

Swords can have spirits, but the Daoists use spirit stones, spirit beasts, or spirit roots to fill them. However, some twisted paths used living humans to create sword spirits, trapping them inside the weapon for their own use—a practice favored by the demonic sects.

This confirmed that Yue Lin had once walked a dark and twisted path.

Chu Hanjin remained silent, staring at him intently.

Yue Lin understood his gaze. “Yes, I created this formation in my previous life. But I’ve already paid for my sins with my death. If others are using my formation for evil now, it’s not my fault.”

Chu Hanjin said nothing.

He wasn’t sure whether he should still be hung up on Yue Lin’s past mistakes, given that Yue Lin had already been dead for many years.

“When you were brought here, you restored my corpse in the tomb, allowing me to piece myself back together,” Yue Lin said, his gaze tender as he looked at him. “When I came to find you, I discovered you standing right in the center of the formation, struck by lightning, but not moving at all. I pulled you out of the formation, but not long after, you returned to it.”

“It takes months to refine a sword spirit. During that time, whenever I wasn’t watching you, you would return to the formation,” Yue Lin tapped his head, “because you were controlled like a puppet, just like how the Demon of the Zither manipulates ghosts into playing endlessly. You would keep returning to the formation, waiting to be refined.”

Chu Hanjin’s spine stiffened as he realized what had been happening.

Yue Lin’s lips quirked slightly. “At the time, I had just been resurrected and was too weak to stop the formation. Later, I thought, since the person refining you wanted your pure and untouched spiritual energy, why not ruin it? By consummating our union, your energy would no longer be as pure, and it would become richer.”

“……”

At that moment, Chu Hanjin finally understood why he had ended up with Yue Lin—and why they had a child.

“The person probably realized you were no longer pure, making the sword-refining process less effective. They either took you away themselves or you regained your memories and left on your own. I didn’t know. I just suddenly noticed you were gone, so I came out to look for you.”

Hearing this, Chu Hanjin focused on the most pressing question. “Do you remember how to get out of here?”

Yue Lin nodded. “I do.”

He gestured towards the path. “Let’s talk as we walk. We should head back.”

Chu Hanjin’s mind was spinning with questions.

When they returned to where the horse was tied, they realized that with the disappearance of the formation, the gravitational field that had previously restricted their movement had also vanished. Spiritual energy was no longer being suppressed, making it easy to fly or ride.

Yue Lin gestured for Chu Hanjin to mount the horse.

Chu Hanjin thought for a moment and said, “No need.”

He turned and began walking along the grassy path.

Yue Lin stood for a moment, holding the reins, before following behind him. “Is there something troubling you?”

Chu Hanjin hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t understand why someone wants to harm me.”

He had always stayed in the Far Mountain Sect, diligently cultivating, rarely interacting with others. He truly couldn’t fathom why someone would want to kill him.

Yue Lin understood his frustration. After all, as the esteemed Lord Yue Zhao, Chu Hanjin had suddenly discovered that he had countless enemies lurking in the shadows, watching and plotting against him.

Yue Lin thought for a moment and said, “It’s not that you don’t interact with people in the Far Mountain Sect, but that they’ve protected you too well. My mother always taught me that only by fighting and taking from others can one truly succeed. The resources in this world are limited, including spiritual tools for cultivation. If you want to be the best, you have to fight for it—and win.”

He glanced at Chu Hanjin. “Even if you don’t have that mindset, others might. They’ll come for you, steal from you, and they’ll be happiest when they see you fall.”

Chu Hanjin narrowed his eyes and looked at him without speaking.

Yue Lin’s words were filled with bitterness, likely because he had been killed by others.

Without saying another word, they returned to the mountain cabin. The flatbread they had baked earlier was still stuck to the side of the stove, slightly warm. They replaced the cold bread in their pack with the fresh, warm pieces, broke them into pieces, and soaked them in soup.

Yue Lin glanced around the cabin. “I built this place. What do you think?”

Chu Hanjin replied, “It’s nice.”

“I had planned to live here with you for the rest of my life.” Yue Lin smiled at him. “But it seems we’ll be leaving soon.”

There was a hint of regret in his voice.

Regret was understandable. Yue Lin didn’t seem eager to leave this place.

Now that his memory had returned, Chu Hanjin asked, “Do you plan to leave, or stay here?”

Yue Lin answered without hesitation. “I’ll follow you.”

“……”

After a long silence, Chu Hanjin slowly chewed his bread and said, “Once the child is born, I’ll give him to you. After that, you don’t need to follow me anymore.”

Chu Hanjin simply couldn’t accept the idea of living with someone else for the rest of his life.

Yue Lin turned his head to look at him, pausing for two seconds before asking, “Do you hate me too?”

“……”

Hearing this, Chu Hanjin realized something was off. In his past life, Yue Lin had been hated and envied, driven to his death. Even now, after his resurrection, he seemed unable to find a place where he truly belonged, preferring to remain hidden away in the mountains.

It seemed like Chu Hanjin was the only anchor he had left.

More specifically, the Chu Hanjin from before, when Yue Lin hadn’t lost his memory.

But now, this version of Chu Hanjin didn’t remember anything, nor did he feel any connection with Yue Lin. He didn’t know how to handle his feelings.

Chu Hanjin looked at him. “I don’t hate you. It’s just…”

Yue Lin interrupted, “Then it’s fine. As long as you don’t hate me, I’ll stay with you and protect you. You can continue being Lord Yue Zhao and take care of your responsibilities. Occasionally, spare some time for our child and for me.”

“……”

They sat quietly, eating their bread.

Chu Hanjin didn’t know what to say. He watched as Yue Lin devoured his bread, then got up and walked into the cabin. “I’ll pack up our things.”

Chu Hanjin glanced over, seeing Yue Lin silently assessing the house, his figure appearing somewhat lonely.

Chu Hanjin wasn’t someone who understood emotions well. But as a child, he had played only with his senior brother. Later, in the Rongku Sect, he watched his senior brother make new friends and start playing with others, often forgetting about him. It left him feeling somewhat lonely.

He understood Yue Lin’s feelings. In the isolation of the mountains, they had only each other. Their bond was almost exclusive. But now that Chu Hanjin was returning to the Far Mountain Sect as Lord Yue Zhao, Yue Lin was becoming less necessary.

Perhaps Yue Lin was convincing himself that he didn’t need much—just that Chu Hanjin didn’t hate him, and that was enough.

The more Chu Hanjin thought about it, the more he sighed, feeling a bit cruel.

He wasn’t sure how to handle this emotional situation.

When he returned to the cabin, Yue Lin had already packed most of their belongings. Among his things, he had packed a small wooden bird, storing it in his ring. “If we want to leave, we can go now.”

Chu Hanjin asked, “Will we come back?”

Yue Lin looked directly into his eyes. “If you don’t return, then I won’t either.”

Chu Hanjin hesitated.

He had always appeared cold and indifferent, with a calm and detached demeanor. His dark eyes flickered slightly, as if deep in thought, and after a moment, his tight lips slowly curved into a small smile. “Let’s leave tomorrow.”

Then, as if adding an excuse, he said, “It’s late today.”

Yue Lin set down the pack. He led the horse out into the courtyard, fulfilling his promise to feed it something good, leading it to a grassy hillside. After letting it graze, he untied the reins and set it free to return to the wild.

He returned to the Bodhi tree in the yard and began removing the wooden birds he had carved.

His movements were slow, taking down each bird and gazing at it for a moment, as if they represented dreams that could never come true.

Chu Hanjin stood in the corridor, watching as Yue Lin removed the last of the wooden birds. He then returned to the house, putting away the food and tools they had used.

Yue Lin said, “I’ll add a talisman to prevent dust from gathering.”

But then, thinking about it, he sighed, “Actually, forget it. We’re probably not coming back.” He released the restriction he had placed.

After tidying up the cabin, Yue Lin sat at the stone table under the Bodhi tree, watching the sunset in the distance.

To be honest, even though he hadn’t said a word, Chu Hanjin could sense that Yue Lin was deeply saddened.

Looking back, Chu Hanjin realized that the past month of living here had been peaceful and comfortable, free from the troubles of the world.

After the sun had set, Chu Hanjin stood up. “Dinner’s ready.”

Fresh meat and vegetables were simmering in the pot, and the rice had been steamed to perfection. Everything was sourced from the mountains, nourishing and hearty. When the lid was lifted, steam billowed out.

During dinner, neither of them spoke much. Yue Lin kept his eyes lowered, quietly eating his meal.

The silence became uncomfortable for Chu Hanjin. As he looked out the window at the moonlight, a few moths fluttered inside. Almost as if compelled by some unseen force, Chu Hanjin said, “After dinner…”

Yue Lin looked up at him.

Chu Hanjin continued, “Do you want to go see the fireflies?”

Yue Lin’s expression shifted slightly, and he nodded. “Alright.”

It was clear that he was happy again. Chu Hanjin, seeing the mood lighten, ate his meal slowly, feeling his own mood lift as well.

Outside, the moonlight was soft and clear. Before, when the formation had been active, the nights had been pitch black with nothing visible. But now, the moonlight shimmered like silver, illuminating the path ahead.

Yue Lin crafted two lanterns from white silk and bamboo, handing one to Chu Hanjin and holding the other himself. Together, they walked along the mountain path towards the drunken fish herb field.

“It’s still May, so the fireflies haven’t reached their peak yet, but…” Yue Lin’s words trailed off as his attention was caught by something.

A tiny point of light flitted in the sky, drifting along the path.

Chu Hanjin looked up and saw the firefly as well.

The mountain path was steep, and Yue Lin reached out to steady Chu Hanjin by his wrist. “Careful.”

His arm was warm, radiating heat.

As Yue Lin helped him along, Chu Hanjin’s gaze followed the small firefly, watching it disappear into the dark bamboo forest.

They walked further, rounding a bend, and as they stepped out of the bamboo forest, the drunken fish herb field came into view, bathed in the soft pink hues of the moonlight. The flowers bloomed in abundance, and butterflies danced among them, their wings glowing faintly.

When Yue Lin extended his arms and gently brushed the leaves, fireflies suddenly burst into the air, their glowing bodies filling the entire field, like stars scattered across the moonlit night—a dreamlike scene, as if straight from a dream.

Yue Lin quietly observed the sight. “I had originally planned to bring you here on a summer night.”

Although there weren’t as many fireflies now, it was still quite spectacular.

Chu Hanjin tightened his grip on the lantern and nodded after a moment. “It’s already very beautiful.”

After speaking, he noticed that Yue Lin’s gaze had shifted towards him.

There was a deep emotion in Yue Lin’s eyes as he stared at Chu Hanjin, an emotion that seemed to hold many layers, feelings that Chu Hanjin couldn’t fully comprehend.

It was the same gaze as the one from his memories—intense, fiery, filled with so much emotion it was as if he wanted to devour him whole.

In a brief moment of dazed confusion, a rush of emotions flickered through Chu Hanjin’s mind. He felt a sense of déjà vu, as though he could recall Yue Lin drawing closer in the flower field, his burning lips pressed against his, exploring him with an insatiable hunger, his fingers tangling in his hair until Chu Hanjin’s breath grew ragged…

But now, Yue Lin stood at a distance, watching him without approaching.

Perhaps he was also trying to respect Chu Hanjin’s comfort zone.