After Being Certified by the Immortal Lord on the Path of Ruthlessness - Chapter 64

“Yes.” Jiang Mianhao held up the letter and read it carefully: “She packed the clothes Sister Jiang made for her and left Mount Hua overnight.”

 

Ye Qingge looked up upon hearing this and reached out her hand. “Let me see.”

 

A stack of papers was handed over. The letter was thin, and the events described were illustrated with small, hand-drawn figures.

 

Seeing this unique method of communication, Ye Qingge remembered that Jiang Mianhao was illiterate.

 

Those who couldn’t read or write had their own ways of writing letters. The grass and flowers truly complemented each other.

 

Ye Qingge hummed in acknowledgment and tossed the letter back, her tone cold. “Why did she leave Mount Hua? Did she give any explanation?”

 

Recalling what Grandma Rong Qi had said and combining it with the message in Ling Lan’s letter, Jiang Mianhao guessed that she had most likely returned to Mount Tai to spend the New Year with her.

 

This was also part of the surprise.

 

Jiang Mianhao curled her lips into a smile and shook her head. “I don’t know. She didn’t go into detail because the pigeon couldn’t carry that much.”

 

Glancing at the plump pigeon perched on the windowsill pecking at grains, Ye Qingge asked no more.

 

When she had left the mountain, she had specifically opened Ling Lan’s spiritual awareness. Now, Ling Lan was no longer an ordinary little flower blending in among humans.

 

If she were to encounter the Soaring Bird Clan at this time, Ling Lan’s identity as an immortal-bone spirit would be exposed.

 

An immortal-bone spirit, encountered only once in ten thousand years, was far rarer than the immortal bones found in the celestial realm.

 

With an exceptionally strong immortal root, if captured by the demon realm and refined into medicine, it would become an invincible elixir for them.

 

During the great war between the celestial and demon realms, the demons had skinned, disemboweled, and devoured an immortal-bone spirit, greatly enhancing their cultivation.

 

In the end, the previous Empress had sacrificed herself, transforming into a seal to eternally imprison the serpent and the soaring bird underground.

 

A thousand years had passed. The new Divine Maiden had grown up, and the calamity left behind by the serpent and bird had matured.

Thinking of Siji and Wuli’s faces, Ye Qingge clenched the brush in her hand until it creaked.

 

She must not let the immortal bone fall into their hands again.

 

“What’s wrong, Lu Jiu?” Jiang Mianhao carefully put away the letter, concern flickering in her eyes as she looked at the other’s pale face. “Are you feeling unwell? Why are you so pale?”

 

With that, she walked around the desk and gently wiped Ye Qingge’s forehead with a silk handkerchief.

 

Ye Qingge froze, forgetting to pull away.

 

The other’s movements were tender, as if she were handling a rare and precious treasure, carefully dabbing at her skin.

 

“It’s nothing.” Ye Qingge raised her hand to push Jiang Mianhao’s away, then asked again, “Did Ling Lan really not tell you where she was going?”

 

Seeing that Ye Qingge was still concerned about Ling Lan, Jiang Mianhao felt secretly pleased. Keeping Ling Lan’s return a surprise had indeed been the right decision.

 

“No, she didn’t,” Jiang Mianhao replied softly. “But Lanlan will take care of herself. You don’t need to worry.”

 

Ye Qingge hummed in response and fell silent.

 

In her heart, she speculated about Ling Lan’s whereabouts and the likelihood of Siji having captured her.

 

Two days passed, yet the plump messenger pigeon still hadn’t returned.

 

Tomorrow was the New Year. The closer it drew, the more anxious Ye Qingge became.

 

She couldn’t shake the feeling that Ling Lan’s disappearance was somehow tied to the eerie silence from the Crow Python Sea.

 

Even so, Ye Qingge refused to dwell on the worst possibility.

 

If it truly came to the point where battle was inevitable, at least the love tribulation that bound her was right by her side.

 

And if there was even the slightest sign of danger, then this love tribulation would have to be eliminated immediately.

 

Suppressing the chaos in her thoughts, Ye Qingge’s brushstrokes lost their rhythm. The characters she had just written were already smudged.

 

The person quietly grinding ink beside her noticed her distraction and stopped moving.

“Green Wine, tomorrow is the New Year’s festival,” Jiang Mianhao said softly. “Do you remember I said I had good news to tell you?”

 

Ye Qingge snapped out of her thoughts, set down her brush, and looked up at the person before her.

 

Seeing her expectant gaze, Jiang Mianhao grew flustered. She bit her lip, waved her hand, and said, “I can’t tell you yet. The New Year’s festival hasn’t arrived.”

 

Seeing her insistence, Ye Qingge only hummed in acknowledgment and didn’t press further.

 

The tip of her brush, still soaked in ink, touched the snow-white rice paper.

 

“Green Wine, you still haven’t taught me how to write!” Jiang Mianhao set the ink stick back into the inkstone, then walked around to Ye Qingge’s side and wrapped her arms around her waist. “If you’re not busy today, can you teach me?”

 

Ye Qingge quietly allowed herself to be held and answered softly, “All right.”

 

The half-written rice paper was lifted and hung on the bamboo rack. Ye Qingge spread out a fresh sheet, the faint scent of ink lingering in the air.

 

A small crescent-shaped jade piece served as a paperweight, pinning the paper neatly in place.

“Come here,” Ye Qingge said, pulling the person beside her into her embrace. “What do you want to learn?”

 

Jiang Mianhao sat nestled between Ye Qingge’s legs, her head resting lightly against the other’s chest, quietly listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

 

“I want to learn how to write your name,” Jiang Mianhao said, lifting her eyes with quiet earnestness. “Can I learn how to write your name?”

 

Meeting the clear gaze of the person in her arms, Ye Qingge paused for a moment before softly humming her assent.

 

“Then hold the brush in the middle,” Ye Qingge instructed, placing the brush into Jiang Mianhao’s hand and adjusting her grip. “Here, don’t hold it too tightly. Relax your fingertips a little.”

 

Jiang Mianhao obediently loosened her hold on the brush.

 

The person behind her carefully corrected her posture, her usually gentle eyes now focused and serious.

 

Under the warm glow of candlelight, Jiang Mianhao’s side profile appeared soft and luminous, her expression serene.

 

Ye Qingge found herself momentarily dazed. She lifted her hand and gently covered the one that fumbled to find the right position.

“Relax,” Ye Qingge murmured, guiding Jiang Mianhao’s hand as the brush tip met the rice paper.

 

The ink on the poised brush had thickened slightly, yet as it touched the paper, it flowed freely. Like a dragon plunging into the sea, coming to life in a single, fluid motion.

 

Under the warm candlelight, their figures blended together. Beneath the beauty’s crimson sleeves, a bold and vigorous character gradually took shape.

 

Jiang Mianhao looked down at the rice paper and asked softly, “Is this character the ‘Green’ in Green Wine?”

 

“No,” Ye Qingge said, still holding her hand. “This is the ‘Jiang’ in Jiang Mianhao. Before you learn to write my name, you should write your own first.”

 

Jiang Mianhao’s ears flushed pink, her heart softening at the quiet thoughtfulness of the person behind her.

 

The room was silent except for the faint crackle of candlelight, the air filled with the gentle sweetness of the incense burning on the desk.

 

After the three characters of “Jiang Mianhao” appeared neatly on the rice paper, Ye Qingge stopped and gestured for her to lift it.

 

“Wow…” Jiang Mianhao breathed, holding the paper up with wide eyes as she admired the characters.

Though guided by her own hand, the strokes still carried the distinct style of Green Wine.

 

The immortal’s handwriting like her person was aloof and precise, standing out beautifully against the snow-white paper.

 

Jiang Mianhao was utterly delighted. She held the paper up, admiring it for a long while. “So these three characters are my name! I have to memorize the strokes carefully, so I can write them for Ling Lan to see later.”

 

Watching the joy blooming on the other’s face, Ye Qingge neither agreed nor disagreed. She merely observed in silence, letting the quiet happiness linger between them.

 

To be this happy just from writing a name aside from Jiang Mianhao, Ye Qingge could think of no one else so easily pleased.

 

Ye Qingge had never cared for upholding so-called righteous paths, nor did she believe that those who walked them possessed hearts of pure crystal.

 

Take the former empress, for instance the one who had borne her burdens with unyielding resolve, safeguarded the common people, revered the Qing Code, and upheld the law above all else. She placed the weight of life and death upon her shoulders, willing even to sacrifice herself to quell chaos and preserve her ideals.

 

Everyone called her a good empress yet she could never be called a mother.

 

The first lesson Ye Qingge ever learned was cruelty.

 

All because a sorcerer had once claimed that an extreme cold constitution might bring ill omens and endanger the world in the future.

 

The former empress had not hesitated to strip her own daughter of emotion and love, confining the newly awakened child within an alchemical furnace to endure forty-nine days of searing flames.

 

Each day of that fiery torment, Ye Qingge survived only by clinging to the razor’s edge between life and death.

 

As the memories resurfaced, she closed her eyes, forcing down the storm that threatened to surge within her chest.

 

She would never become a great person like her mother. One who sacrificed herself for the world. Nor would she carve rigid rules into her bones to uphold some hollow notion of righteousness.

 

Yet, no matter how much she resisted, as a divine maiden, she was bound to protect the peace of the world. That was a fate Ye Qingge could not escape.

 

Her brush slipped from her fingers and fell onto the rice paper with a soft thud.

 

Sensing the sudden stillness, Jiang Mianhao turned around in alarm. “What’s wrong, Lu Jiu? Why are you sweating again?” she asked anxiously.

Jiang Mianhao raised her hand and gently wiped the sweat from the other’s forehead with a handkerchief, an indescribable feeling stirring in her chest.

 

It had been over ten days since they returned to Taibai Mountain, yet Lu Jiu remained indoors each day, buried in official documents.

 

She ignored all the nature spirits who came to call.

 

Jiang Mianhao had long known that Lu Jiu possessed a cold disposition.

 

But this was different from her usual indifference to all things. Since returning from Huashan, Lu Jiu would often drift off into silence, lost in thought.

 

When she returned to herself, she would simply continue as though nothing had happened.

 

More than once, Jiang Mianhao had caught her holding her brush midair, the ink dripping freely, bleeding across the paper and ruining half-finished calligraphy.

 

“Do you have something on your mind?” Jiang Mianhao asked softly, cupping the other’s face, her eyes filled with concern. “Can you tell me about it?”

 

Ye Qingge lifted her gaze to meet those eyes.

 

They were the purest, most sincere, and most desireless eyes she had ever seen.

Jiang Mianhao was also the most honest and kind-hearted person Ye Qingge had ever met.

 

But…

 

Ye Qingge averted her gaze, breaking eye contact. “It’s nothing.”

 

Jiang Mianhao sighed softly, pressing her forehead against the other’s and coaxing in a gentle voice, “Are you tired? Tomorrow is the New Year’s festival. We’ll have to wake up early.”

 

“Mm.” Ye Qingge brushed her nose lightly against hers. “Then let’s go to sleep.”

 

Jiang Mianhao nodded obediently. “Okay. There’s a surprise tomorrow, and I have good news to tell you. Aren’t you looking forward to it?”

 

Ye Qingge gave a perfunctory “Mm,” then gathered the other into her arms.

 

“I’m so looking forward to it!” Jiang Mianhao murmured, her mind already wandering. She couldn’t help imagining how Lu Jiu would react when she found out she was going to be a mother.

 

Would she be as flustered and overjoyed as Feng Mingyi had been?

 

But knowing Lu Jiu’s temperament, she would probably remain calm. Perhaps offering only a faint smile.

A bright, radiant smile like that day, when her golden eyes shimmered with quiet joy.

 

Jiang Mianhao lifted her head from the other’s embrace and looked toward the window.

 

Without sunlight, the butterfly shadows on the paper screens were nothing more than faint silhouettes in the dark.

 

The two had already washed up and now went straight to bed.

lying under the same quilt, sharing the same pillow.

 

“May tomorrow come quickly.” Jiang Mianhao leaned forward, nestling deeper into Lu Jiu’s arms, her voice soft and full of gentle anticipation.

 

Ye Qingge heard that hopeful whisper, closed her eyes silently, and gave no reply.