Chapter 268 – Gaining Trust, Deepening Chaos, and Relocating to Cloudpeak Province - Part 2

Half a month later, early spring arrived.

Within the city stronghold of the Holy Tree Temple, flowers of every variety were blooming in abundance, so vibrant and diverse that walking among them felt like entering a mysterious forest.

Normally, it would have been a perfect time for the top clans of the Holy Tree Temple to enjoy the blooms, but the ongoing turmoil—plus the Guo Clan’s downfall and the Liu Clan’s betrayal—left few people in the mood for flower-viewing.

One day, Li Yuan personally readied a carriage at his estate. As Jing Shuixiang emerged, he found himself briefly entranced by her look. Petite by nature, she was wrapped in a flowing black gown—elegant and slightly enigmatic.

The collar was cut just wide enough to reveal a hint of pale skin and the edge of her collarbone. A cluster of pink mimosa blossoms adorned the neckline, lending an unexpected air of purity to the otherwise somber outfit.

A black, veiled hat shadowed her eyes, making them glimmer like distant stars in a fog. Li Yuan reached out to take her hand and help her onto the carriage, still a bit surprised by her new style. He rarely saw a woman dress entirely in black. especially not his own wife. For a moment, it almost made her feel like a stranger.

Sensing his gaze, Jing Shuixiang lowered her head. “I’m sorry, I can change into something else if you don’t like it...”

Li Yuan kept her hand in his. “No need. It looks beautiful.”

Her eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Of course,” Li Yuan answered.

At that, Jing Shuixiang climbed carefully into the carriage. At first, she insisted on sitting up front to drive, staying right by Li Yuan’s side, but with his gentle urging, she retreated inside the carriage.

Li Yuan guided the carriage toward the Gu Clan’s territory. He had heard that his son, Ping’an, had returned the day before. Getting into the Gu Clan’s grounds posed no difficulty, yet the atmosphere there was somber.

Listening quietly, Li Yuan learned a funeral was being held for the Gu elder who had died during the Happyland investigation. That left the Gu Clan with only three remaining fifth rank powerhouses—including the deputy temple master, Gu Xuejian. The loss was a heavy blow.

Li Yuan paid little heed to the clan’s grief and went straight to see Gu Xuejian. She seemed surprised by his visit. “Master Li, are you here for our elder’s funeral? It’s an internal Gu Clan matter. There was no need for you to come...”

Li Yuan lowered his head for a moment of silence, then spoke of the elder’s valor and how the news saddened him. Finally, he said, “It’s a lovely day, and I wanted to take my family out for a bit.”

He motioned for Jing Shuixiang to step forward from the carriage. She emerged in her black ‘mimosa’ gown, then respectfully greeted Gu Xuejian, “Greetings, Deputy Temple Master.”

Gu Xuejian gave her a curious look before nodding.

Li Yuan continued, “I’d like to take Ping’an out for a while.”

Gu Xuejian hesitated. “Ping’an is deep in training. It might not be wise to let him slack off.”

Li Yuan insisted, “I only want to walk around the third gate. I won’t go far. I lost my daughter...so I’d really like to spend more time with my son.”

Hearing this, Jing Shuixiang raised her head, eyes shining with emotion.

Gu Xuejian deliberated for a moment, then said, “All right.”

After speaking, Gu Xuejian brought out Ping’an, who was practicing his sword in the inner quarters, gave him a few instructions, and then let him leave with Li Yuan.

Along the way, Li Yuan listened to his son brag endlessly about how he was on the brink of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman, how his fellow disciples were all far too weak, and so on.

Li Yuan just let him talk. He could see clearly that his son had taken after the Gu Clan’s style—and apparently the most extreme aspects too. Not only was Ping’an belligerent, but there was a certain cocky flamboyance to him that might even leave Gu Xuejian at a loss for words.

As for the lessons of caution Li Yuan had tried to instill—his so-called

Scripture of Steadiness

—it seemed his son had tossed them aside ages ago.

Li Yuan suspected that this might be related to the cultivation technique Ping’an had chosen. People who studied the Ruling Blade tended to develop heroic swagger; those who practiced the Phantom Blade often wandered into more nefarious territory. His son, having proven he possessed the Gu lineage’s innate shadow blood, was probably fated to end up with that sort of temperament.

Instead of lecturing him, Li Yuan simply chatted about the Happyland investigation and tried to have him learn from the death of the Gu elder. It was a rare moment of father-son bonding that went reasonably well.

By evening, Li Yuan returned Ping’an to Gu Xuejian and bade him farewell. When he arrived back at the Jing Clan estate, a disciple was already waiting at the gate.

Seeing Li Yuan, the disciple smiled and said, “Master Li, our clan head wishes to speak with you.”

Li Yuan glanced at Jing Shuixiang. “I’ll be back soon.”

A short while later, he found Jing Banfeng, who dismissed everyone else before turning to Li Yuan.

“Master Li, in a few days, we’ll need you to accompany a group of elders outside again. I won’t be going myself, but Cui Wuji will be there to protect you, along with three other elders.”

Li Yuan chuckled, sensing that his comings and going were starting to become more routine. “That’s quite the lineup. What’s the plan this time?”

Jing Banfeng explained, “We’re going to hunt down a fifth rank member of the Black Lotus Cult and a key figure from the undying husk faction. Your role is the same as before—just release the eternal demon bloom at specific points on the map. Once the flower walls appear, the Black Lotus cultists and the undying husks will be completely isolated, giving us a huge advantage.”

Li Yuan nodded. “No problem.”

That night, after returning home to bathe and change, Jing Shuixiang was almost frantic in her attentions, over and over again murmuring that she wanted to give him a child, too.

It was only then that Li Yuan recalled how she had been unusually quiet earlier when he had mentioned wanting to spend time with Ping’an after

losing

Sheng'er. She must have been dwelling on it all day.

With his robust constitution, Li Yuan never really tired from these late-night encounters, but Jing Shuixiang seemed like a moth rushing into a flame, willing to sacrifice anything. Even as they lay skin to skin, he couldn’t shake the feeling that a great distance still separated them.

Meanwhile, Cui Huayinhadn’t come home at all—whether because she was too caught up in cultivation or simply clashed with Jing Shuixiang’s personality, Li Yuan couldn’t say.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

A month later.

Li Yuan returned from the mission. There had been little for him to do in the actual fighting, given Cui Wuji’s protection.

Jing Shuixiang, who seemed to have little interest in cultivating, heard that he was coming back and went straight to the city stronghold entrance to wait for him. The moment she saw him, she latched onto his arm, clearly unwilling to part from him even for a second.

Allowing her to cling to him, Li Yuan strolled leisurely through the streets. The gray bricks underfoot gave off an old-world charm.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves echoed from behind them—tap-tap, drawing closer. A small column of riders cantered through the gate and deeper into the city. Every one of them was a sixth rank martial artist.

The man in the lead had a floating number above his head—765~850. He wore dark green wooden armor and carried a massive sword. A faint aura of destruction hung around him, a vibe rarely seen among disciples of the Holy Tree Temple.

Li Yuan’s eyes swept over the leader before settling on one of the middle riders, a man of bold bearing and cultured air—his nephew-in-law, Yan Mu. Though they both resided in the same city stronghold, they rarely had the chance to meet.

Whenever Li Yuan had free time, Yan Mu was away on a task; whenever Yan Mu came looking for him, Li Yuan was off on some mission. This time, they had bumped into each other by pure chance, and their eyes lit up, full of delight, like they might happily down three hundred cups of wine together.

Yan Mu dismounted, about to speak, but the man in front of him moved first. The leader jumped down, stabbed the greatsword into the ground, and—his powerful, beast-like frame looming—knelt in front of Jing Shuixiang with a somewhat awkward humility.

“Queen.” He bowed stiffly, then quickly remounted and rode off without another word.

“Queen?” Li Yuan glanced quizzically at Jing Shuixiang, about to turn to his nephew-in-law for an explanation. But just then, a woman’s voice came from behind him...

“Xiang Hailou, you’ve got the wrong person. This lady isn’t the Queen.”

Li Yuan turned and saw that the speaker was a muscular, imposing woman. She gave him a courteous bow and said, “Master Li, my name is Gu Xie from the Gu Clan. I caught a glimpse of you back when you married Madam Jing. Xiang Hailou here spends most of his time outside the city stronghold and rarely comes back, so he must’ve mistaken her for someone else.”

Xiang Hailou, who had started to ride away, paused and turned around. “You’re not Queen? Impossible,” he said, his voice thick with a clash of shame, respect, and hatred. “I’ve been honing my skills for years just so I could defeat you. How could I ever forget—”

Before he could finish, the woman named Gu Xie cut him off. “You really have the wrong person. You’ve been gone for so many years that the city stronghold is practically unrecognizable. A mix-up like this is only natural. Besides, the Queen you remember...would she really marry a man and behave like this shy, delicate wife?”

As Gu Xie spoke, she lifted her chin, gesturing toward Jing Shuixiang, who was clinging to Li Yuan’s arm.

Xiang Hailou hesitated, said nothing more, and galloped off.

Gu Xie offered Li Yuan a cupped-fist salute in apology. “Please forgive us, Master Li.”

Li Yuan smiled. “No harm done.”

Watching them ride away, Li Yuan turned to Yan Mu and quietly asked, “Nephew, do you know my wife’s history?”

“No.” Yan Mu shook his head. Sensing Li Yuan’s uncertainty, he added, “I joined late; there’s a lot I don’t know. Xiang Hailou has been with the Holy Tree Temple for 20 years. Maybe the Queen was someone he knew back in the day.”

Li Yuan saw no point in pursuing it further. “Stop by for a drink when you have time.”

Yan Mu gave a wry smile. “Every mission outside is a brush with death. But all right, I’ll look for you later.”

When everyone else had left, Li Yuan put his arm around his wife’s shoulders, letting her lean against his chest. “Wife,” he asked gently, “are you the Queen?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Jing Shuixiang turned pale and dropped to her knees. “I’m so sorry, Husband. I really was called the

Queen

once, but I’m not that person anymore. I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I—”

Her hand rose as if to slap herself. Li Yuan caught her wrist with a sigh. He now knew there would always be a distance between them. But if she was determined to be this humble, he would offer her all the tenderness he could.

Scooping his petite wife into his arms, Li Yuan brushed the dust from her knees and gently wiped away her tears. “I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have asked. Everyone has a past.”