When the White Moonlight Holds the Script - Chapter 37

Over there, Su Chaya, who had long resided in the snowy mountains and was unfamiliar with the treacherous complexities of human hearts and worldly affairs, still hadn’t grasped the cryptic exchange between the two.

Just as Zhu Zhihan was about to explain, a clamor of footsteps echoed from outside the cave.

“Are you sure this is the place?”

“There’s only one path leading here. It must be right.”

“Don’t chicken out now! With our junior sister and master missing, we’re the only ones who can step up!”

They were the voices of Zhu Zhihan’s senior brothers, familiar and unmistakable.

It was only then that Zhu Zhihan remembered the agreement she had made with them: if she showed no sign of activity within a certain time, they would come looking for her.

Due to an unexpected turn of events being drawn into that illusion, she had lost track of how much time had passed.

She scanned her surroundings.

The headless corpse of the demon lay quietly where it had fallen, alongside the bodies of many warriors from the Luyun tribe. The massive jade stone that had once been enshrined at the center was gone, replaced by a fissure sealed with a reinforced crimson barrier.

The matters involved were complex and not yet suitable for others to know. After a moment’s thought, Zhu Zhihan turned to Luan Wu and asked, “Should I…”

Luan Wu gave her consent: “Go ahead.”

So, before her senior brothers could enter, Zhu Zhihan intercepted them.

“Senior brothers.”

The sudden appearance of a figure made the sixth senior brother yelp in surprise, hiding behind the others.

Wan Mengchen reacted swiftly, already brandishing his blade, while the eldest senior brother, slower to grasp the situation, stood bewildered in place.

Recognizing who stood before them, Wan Mengchen lowered his weapon. “It’s you, junior sister, Junior sister!?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re safe. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have known what to do. But never mind that, where is the sect master?”

“The master is safe as well.”

Zhu Zhihan offered only a brief explanation: “We encountered some unexpected events, but they’ve mostly been resolved.”

Subtly positioning herself to block their view, she guided them back outside. “It’s too stuffy in here. Let’s step out for some fresh air. The master will join us once she’s finished handling matters.”

Wan Mengchen caught her meaning. “You’re right. It is stuffy in here, dark and oppressive.”

The sixth senior brother still seemed curious about the cave’s interior, but Zhu Zhihan suddenly remarked, “I never realized sixth senior brother is afraid of the dark and ghosts.”

“Who’s afraid!?”

Stung by the blow to his pride, the sixth senior brother abandoned his curiosity and eagerly defended himself. “I was just… ”

Their banter and laughter gradually faded into the distance.

Zhu Zhihan did not involve herself much in the events that followed.

Due to the fissure leading to the abyss and the earlier upheaval, the secret realm concluded ahead of schedule.

Su Chaya sternly demanded negotiations with the Immortal Alliance. With Luan Wu the formidable deity relaying messages and the severity of the situation undeniable, the Immortal Alliance had no choice but to address the matter publicly.

The suffering endured by the Luyun tribe’s ancestors, the grievances they had borne for years, and the despicable conspiracies behind it all were deliberately exposed to the world under Luan Wu’s orchestration.

The Immortal Alliance was a colossal entity, but the more immense an organization, the more it prized its reputation and the facade of “righteousness.”

Thus, the alliance descended into fierce disputes over who was truly responsible for the sinister deeds. But it didn’t matter they had a full thirty days to argue and determine who would bear the blame for the incident.

While the Immortal Alliance members were arguing, Luan Wu listened idly from the side, a trace of mockery in her brow.

You see, it was precisely such a despicable group of people relying on a bit of cleverness and underhanded tactics who trapped a group of honorable individuals to perish in the wind and snow.

If Luan Wu hadn’t coincidentally uncovered the matter and been willing to invest time and effort to secure time and channels for the Deer Cloud Clan to relay information, this past incident might have remained forever buried in an unknown corner.

Yet, in the unseen workings of cosmic justice, what had been distorted for over a century was ultimately set right again.

What was stolen would eventually be returned, accompanied by a doubled backlash.

At least now, the Immortal Alliance was no longer seen as flawless in the eyes of the cultivators; it had even been linked to other absurd and wrongful cases.

Sometimes, the collapse of certain colossal entities begins with these small matters.

“Sooner or later, it will all be returned,” Luan Wu murmured.

But all that was for later.

At this moment, Zhu Zhihan and her senior brothers had just returned from the secret realm. Along with other “victims” from the secret realm, they were properly settled by the Deer Cloud Clan in various large tents.

Luan Wu had left on some business, and her senior brothers had been called away by the Third Elder. With nothing to do, Zhu Zhihan felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her as the tension from the events finally eased.

Outside, the sky had darkened. She simply extinguished the candle and lay down on the bed.

Without the constant threat of demonic beasts lurking in the secret realm or the oppressive sense of demonic invasion, she could finally get a good night’s sleep.

Perhaps because her mind was still filled with countless matters, even though she could rest peacefully, she still had many dreams.

The scenes in her dreams were fragmented, all drawn from her past experiences: her childhood self crying after breaking something, her adult self setting down an alchemy furnace and being called away by someone, a jumble of memories, devoid of logic.

The one who appeared most frequently was Luan Wu.

Zhu Zhihan dreamed of their first meeting Luan Wu with the fiery mark between her brows, imposing even without anger; Luan Wu flustered by heavenly lightning; Luan Wu scowling darkly as she swept fallen leaves in the sect; Luan Wu patiently teaching her blade techniques in the snow.

And even the recent scene.

The boundless snowfield, where Luan Wu alone stood against the villains of the Immortal Alliance and the swarming demons, shattering all shadows as heavenly light broke through the thick clouds, illuminating the earth.

It was only then that Zhu Zhihan realized how vividly she remembered this moment.

Luan Wu was bathed in the heavenly light, but Zhu Zhihan felt that this person was a luminary even brighter than that radiance. The woman’s dark hair flew wildly in the fierce wind, her red robes blazing like fire, as she casually glanced back in her direction.

Whether in reality or in the dream, witnessing this scene made her unable to resist.

Her heart pounded like a drum.

There were many, many more such scenes.

In the illusion of the Deer Cloud Clan’s settlement from centuries past, night fell, and the camp was lit by warm bonfires.

A younger, more tender-faced Luan Wu, her face covered in leaves, stared at her defiantly: “Again!”

The same location, the next cycle.

The Daoist Luan Wu caught her as she drunkenly stumbled, tolerantly taking the bamboo token: “Alright, I’ll keep you company.”

And at the very end, Zhu Zhihan even dreamed of the illusion born from the black mist, a version of Luan Wu with less righteousness and more unrestrained abandon.

The person before her gazed at her with exceptionally gentle eyes, like a deep sea enough to drown someone, her slender, distinct fingers lifting a strand of Zhu Zhihan’s snow-white hair.

And gently pressing a kiss upon it.

When Zhu Zhihan woke, the daylight was already bright.

She bolted upright, panting in lingering fear, her usually cool, pale eyes looking as if they were soaked in water.

Those dreams…

Before, countless matters had pushed her forward, leaving her no time to dwell on too much.

But last night’s dream seemed to gather everything she had deliberately or inadvertently left behind.

Someone once said that dreams are actually projections of one’s own consciousness.

What did dreaming of those things mean? What were they hinting at?

Could it be that she?

[What’s wrong, Host? Did you have a nightmare?] Miss System keenly sensed her distress and asked with concern.

Zhu Zhihan felt as if she had just awoken from a deep slumber.

“Was it a nightmare? Not exactly.” she smiled bitterly.

In terms of emotional experience, it was actually a sweet dream.

But upon truly waking, it became something frightening and troubling.

“It was just a dream,” she said.

Getting out of bed, she splashed some cold water on her face to suppress the restlessness within. After a while, she finally calmed down completely.

Recalling her earlier behavior, she suddenly found it amusing.

She had overreacted.

What could a dream possibly signify?

Besides Luan Wu, that dream was filled with all sorts of chaotic things. Moreover, it was merely a collection of past events.

She had been too avoidant, too sensitive about it.

Miss System reminded her from the side: [Host, in such a cold place, it’s better to use warm water. No matter what’s troubling you, your health should come first.]

Zhu Zhihan snapped back to reality, feeling a warmth in her heart, and smiled apologetically. “I won’t do it again, don’t worry.”

To her relief, Luan Wu had been busy dealing with the Deer Cloud Clan and hadn’t returned for several days. Otherwise, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to face him calmly.

Even though she repeatedly told herself it was nothing, there might still be some awkwardness.

During these days, as the investigation continued, those who had entered the secret realm were not allowed to leave.

With nothing else to do, Zhu Zhihan returned to her old practice of refining pills.

Occasionally, she would check in on what her senior brothers were up to. She found Wan Mengchen studying the famous merchant houses of the cultivation world, while the eldest senior brother had already started trying to grow spiritual plants in flowerpots using spiritual soil.

What surprised Zhu Zhihan was her sixth junior brother. He seemed to be getting along quite well with the rogue cultivators he had met on the icy plains. From a distance, Zhu Zhihan caught a glimpse of him, his face radiant with rare excitement.

Remembering how he had confided in her that day, dejectedly calling himself an ordinary person, Zhu Zhihan felt genuinely happy for him.

Of course, not everything went smoothly.

A certain “old acquaintance” whom Zhu Zhihan had almost forgotten about caused her some trouble.

One day, while she was out for a stroll, someone stopped her, it was the fat alchemist who had previously been in the stall next to Wan Mengchen, accused them of selling fake pills, and was eventually driven out of the trading area by Zhu Zhihan’s skills.

The fat alchemist still carried himself with great pomp, surrounded by many attendants. But unlike before, he stood respectfully beside a gaunt, hunchbacked old man.

The old man was dressed in luxurious brocade robes, with a harsh, thin face and sunken cheeks.

“Uncle Master,” the fat alchemist addressed the old man, his attitude almost reverent.

The old man snorted disdainfully, his tone laced with contempt. “Your lineage has truly fallen from grace! To stoop so low as to personally peddle wares in such a place, and even be outdone by others.”

His hawk-like eyes then fixed on Zhu Zhihan, and he spoke with condescension, “Come along, little girl. Take me to see the one backing you.”

Zhu Zhihan smiled faintly, her hands clasped behind her back as she discreetly sent a message to the guards of the Luyun tribe now that both she and her master were esteemed guests of the tribe, Su Chaya would not stand idly by while this unfolded on their turf.

“From the way you speak, it seems you must be a highly skilled alchemist?”

The old man stroked his beard. “I am Chunhao Daoren of the Immortal Alliance.”

Zhu Zhihan replied with neither humility nor arrogance, “I have long heard of your esteemed name.”

She had indeed heard of this man.

Chunhao Daoren was an alchemist recruited or rather, employed by the Immortal Alliance. His skills were considered top-tier, but his reputation was notoriously poor. The entire alchemy circle knew of his arrogance.

Alchemists were already a prideful bunch, and for someone to be disliked even among them for his arrogance spoke volumes about how extreme he was.

The area where Zhu Zhihan was strolling wasn’t particularly remote. Some people watched from a distance, while others who recognized her quietly slipped away to inform Wan Mengchen and the others.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries with Chunhao Daoren, he saw through her stalling tactics and snorted coldly, “Enough of your petty tricks.”

With that, he stretched out a withered, bony hand to grab her.

Zhu Zhihan’s heart sank this man was even more troublesome than she had anticipated.

But she had forgotten: she still carried a protective sword intent left by Luan Wu.

“Ugh!”

Not only did Chunhao Daoren fail to seize her, but he was also repelled by a backlash, sent flying and landing awkwardly in the snow.

Zhu Zhihan: “…”

The plump alchemist cried out, “Uncle-Master!”

It had been a long time since Chunhao Daoren had been humiliated so thoroughly. “You, how dare you!”

In truth, had he been calmer and more observant, he would have recognized the familiar aura of that sword intent. But consumed by arrogance, his chest now burned with rage.

“Fine, fine. The one backing you has some skill,” he sneered coldly. “But so what? I, Chunhao Daoren, have friends far and wide. I’m not afraid of your—”

He lunged for her again.

This time, Zhu Zhihan had no protective sword intent, yet not a trace of panic showed on her face.

A flicker of doubt crossed Chunhao Daoren’s mind: Not only is this girl unafraid, she even looks somewhat, indescribable?

And then, there was no “then.”

An overwhelming, terrifying pressure bore down on him.

In an instant, he was slammed into the snow, forced into a kneeling position right before Zhu Zhihan.

Zhu Zhihan’s lips twitched. “There’s no need for such a grand gesture.”

Chunhao Daoren had no mind to care about the girl’s impudence now.

Because a voice, one all too familiar and chilling to every member of the Immortal Alliance sounded from behind him: “Not afraid of what?”

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