Uncle Zhao led a small group of soldiers up the main path, advancing with cautious steps, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his saber.
The village ahead was frozen in a desolate stillness. A scattering of dilapidated mud-wall houses slouched in no particular order, like forgotten sentries. At the center, two crude dirt paths crossed, forming a lonely intersection.
Every sound the group made—boots against earth, the faint clatter of gear—seemed painfully loud in the suffocating silence.
“Is anybody here?” Uncle Zhao called out as he stopped at the village entrance. His voice echoed through the empty alleys, but no movement stirred.
“Is there anyone?” he tried again. The silence that answered was just as complete.
Behind him, the soldiers exchanged uneasy glances. With a sharp gesture, Uncle Zhao signaled them forward. They spread out carefully, creeping past the worn houses. One by one, they pushed open doors, peered into shadowy interiors, and scanned every corner.
A sudden ka-thump broke the stillness. One soldier had bumped into the wooden handle of a flour grinder; the brittle piece snapped cleanly and fell to the ground.
A dozen heads turned at once. Uncle Zhao strode over, crouched, and examined the grinder. He touched the fractured wood, and when he lifted his finger, it was dusted in a yellowish-brown powder.
“This is an old village. Has anyone been here before? It’s close to the main path—travelers should’ve seen it.”
The soldiers looked at one another and shook their heads.
“My old Dad once told me he traveled to Mountain-Edge City in his youth and stayed the night in a village along the way. Might’ve been this one…” a burly soldier muttered.
“Your dad’s sixty now. When he was young—that must’ve been decades ago,” another soldier pointed out.
“Thirty years, maybe. So long ago I might as well not have said it,” the big man chuckled.
Uncle Zhao rose to his feet and scanned the village again, eyes narrowing.
“This place seems deserted. Make another round and check thoroughly. If nothing’s amiss, we’ll spend the night here.”
In recent years, various misfortunes had driven countless villages to migrate or abandon their homes altogether. An empty settlement was no surprise anymore. Sometimes, a single outbreak of disease was enough to force an entire community to flee, leaving behind nothing but a shell of a once-living place.
“Yes, sir!”
The soldiers dispersed to conduct a full sweep. The village held eighteen mud houses in total. Half had collapsed walls or roofs riddled with holes, their frames barely recognizable. The remaining structures, though shabby, were still usable.
After inspecting everything, Uncle Zhao and his men tidied up the sturdier houses, then sent a messenger to inform Lu Quanan, who waited on the main path. Soon after, Lu Quanan led the rest of the group forward, the ox carts creaking as they rolled slowly into the silent village.
“There are a few larger mud houses. Assign them as needed and make do for the night. We’ll continue tomorrow. Arrange sentries as well,” Lu Quanan instructed calmly.
The mud houses alone could not possibly shelter everyone, so the women and children were given priority. The Northern Lands were far colder than the regions they came from; once night fell, the temperature often plunged to freezing. Even a slight chill could turn into serious illness.
“There’s a well at the village center. Fetch water from it. The forest is close—take some men and gather dried wood. See if there’s any game or edible mushrooms nearby, but don’t wander far. Keep yourselves safe.”
Lu Quanan had traveled extensively in his youth and was no stranger to the hardships of the road. It took him only moments to put everything in order.
“Send a messenger to Mountain-Edge City. Tell them our journey will be delayed a few days because a wheel broke,” he added.
“Understood, Old Master,” replied one of the soldiers. They were city guards assigned by Lu Anping as escorts, following their superior’s orders. The Lu Family had treated them well on the road, and each man would earn five taels of silver for this trip—equivalent to two months’ wages. Naturally, none of them had any complaints.
The soldier swung himself onto his horse, gathered a few days’ worth of rations, and sped off toward Mountain-Edge City.
By then, campfires were already crackling to life in the village. A large pot hung over the flames, the rising steam carrying the scent of simmering soup through the cold air.
Lu Chenxin stepped down from his carriage and stretched his stiff limbs. He was originally meant to travel with Lu Yiyi to pursue further studies, but his carefree nature made the disciplined, frugal lifestyle of an academy unbearable for him. After a string of excuses and conveniently timed “illnesses,” he missed the scheduled departure, leaving Lu Yiyi to head to Xichuan Town alone.
‘Heheh… Mountain-Edge City will be much livelier. What joy could Xichuan Town possibly offer? Brother Sheng must be enjoying himself thoroughly there. I’ve heard the pleasure boats are something to behold… once I arrive, I’ll surely have my fill of fun.’ Lu Chenxin chuckled to himself, looking around with anticipation.
He had been riding in the same carriage as Zhang Xiuxiu’s family—relatives from Lu Quanan’s first wife’s side. Lu Tianyang shared the cramped space as well. But the tight quarters didn’t bother Lu Chenxin. Zhang Xiuxiu, with her delicate features and gentle manner, had made the journey far more pleasant.
Though she bore the Lu name through distant relations to Lu Sheng’s maternal grandfather, Zhang Xiuxiu had no actual blood ties to Lu Chenxin. Her father, struggling to make ends meet, had aligned himself with the prosperous Lu Family in hopes of a better life. Xiuxiu herself was born outside of marriage, whispered to be the result of her father’s entanglement with a brothel woman. Raised solely under her father’s care after being brought into the family, she grew up with little guidance and a free-spirited temperament.
Her beauty, paired with her loose upbringing, had led to ambiguous ties with both Lu Tianyang and Sun Bajun. Now that they were no longer in the picture, Lu Chenxin felt it was finally his turn, and his mood soared because of it.
Lu Tianyang climbed down from a nearby carriage. Their eyes met, and they drifted toward each other with knowing expressions.
“How was it? How did Xiu’er treat you?”
“Not bad, not bad… she’s far more forward than Yuelan. A real spark to her,” Lu Chenxin murmured with a stifled laugh.
“Same house tonight?”
Lu Tianyang, born to Lu Quanan’s fourth concubine, had long shared Lu Chenxin’s reputation as one of the manor’s most notorious wastrels. Together with Sun Bajun, the three were once known throughout Lu Manor as the Three Bachelors of the Lu Family. It was a title they wore proudly—until Sun Bajun’s sudden disappearance.
“Pity that Bajun…”
The thought dampened Lu Chenxin’s mood. “Mountain-Edge City is so prosperous and lively. If Brother Bajun were still with us, he’d be overjoyed. The three of us—drinking, wandering, cruising across Cypress Pine Lake… what a time that would’ve been.”
Lu Tianyang shook his head lightly. “Let’s not talk about that. Where’s Jiao Yan? Have you seen her around?” Lately, he had been infatuated with one of the family’s servant girls.
“She’s helping tidy up near Old Dad’s carriage. You dare go look for her?” Lu Chenxin teased, pointing in that direction.
Lu Tianyang stuck out his tongue and stayed silent, not daring to answer.
…………
Crystal Watergate, Mountain-Edge City.
Clusters of grayish-white, flat-roofed houses packed the landscape like overlapping fish scales. Cutting through the dense rows of buildings, Cypress Pine Lake—tinted faintly pink under the evening light—divided the city into two distinct districts.
On the arched stone bridge above the watergate, Lu Sheng and Chen Yunxi stood quietly side by side. Willow branches stirred in the wind, brushing the lake’s surface with languid grace. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Seeing no response from the long-legged beauty beside him, Lu Sheng finally smiled and broke the silence. “I’ve never been here before. The air’s fresh, the scenery is lovely. How did you think of taking a stroll here?”
Chen Yunxi’s eyes remained fixed on the mouth of the watergate, where water poured through relentlessly, white and smooth as silk, feeding the shimmering lake below.
“My Dad funded the third refurbishment of this watergate. It took a great deal of manpower and resources. When it was completed and the water was finally released, I came to watch. Back then, I was thrilled. Seeing the muddy brown floodwater transform into something clear as crystal after passing through the gate… the feeling it gave me… you wouldn’t understand.”
“It’s alright. I’ve seen similar sights before,” Lu Sheng replied, absently rubbing his bald head, still puzzled at how slowly his hair was growing back.
Chen Yunxi turned toward him abruptly, her face pale. “Brother Sheng. Tell me honestly… do you despise me?”
Lu Sheng shook his head. “You’re beautiful, virtuous, and come from such a good family. Who would despise you?” He paused, then added softly, “I just don’t want to settle down so soon.”
He was keenly aware that the path before him was destined to be filled with the supernatural and the unknown. With the Deep Blue Modifier in his grasp, he could not—and would not—live a mediocre life. His nature ensured it.
And the life he was moving toward was one Chen Yunxi could never accept. What she sought was simple: a dependable husband, peaceful days, children to raise, a stable life tied to family and learning.
But those things were not what Lu Sheng wanted.
Since he could not offer her a future, he would not deceive her with false hope.
Lu Sheng understood this truth well. That was why he hadn’t avoided Chen Yunxi when she approached him after the ceremony, and why he agreed to accompany her here now.
“I know you’re different from the rest of us,” Chen Yunxi murmured, lowering her head. “My Dad also told me not to cling too tightly. From the changes in you… I can guess the kind of life you’ve lived.”
“Then why do you still…?” Lu Sheng asked softly, unable to hide his helplessness.
“Because only when I’m with you do I feel truly safe…” Chen Yunxi stepped closer, her voice trembling slightly.
She wore a thin, long-sleeved white dress, its light fabric layered beneath a soft cream-colored gauze cloak. A pink top lay beneath it, and her lotus-shaped skirt, tied to the side with a delicate butterfly knot, brushed her knees—revealing her slender, fair legs in the breeze.
“You…” Lu Sheng stared at her in disbelief. Even in the open-minded Northern Lands, it was rare for a woman to stand so close to a man alone.
Chen Yunxi lifted her gaze, eyes gleaming with determination. “I like you, Brother Sheng. Even though you’ve lost your eyebrows, even though you’re bald, even though your muscles keep growing thicker… I still like you.”
A strange feeling stirred inside Lu Sheng—something wasn’t quite right.
Chen Yunxi stepped forward again, her chest brushing lightly against him. “…so marry me.”
A soft pop sounded.
An ornate jewelry box appeared in her hand as though from thin air. She opened it gently, revealing a pristine white jade thumb ring, intricately carved with a soaring phoenix.
A shock rippled through Lu Sheng’s mind.
Images flashed before him—countless scenes of men proposing to women, scenes he had seen or heard of. He had never imagined that a beauty like Chen Yunxi would take the initiative to commission such an elaborate jade ring… and offer it to him.
Steadying himself, Lu Sheng finally exhaled.
“I’m sorry. I can’t give you the kind of life you want.”
He closed the jewelry box with a quiet motion and pushed it gently back toward her.
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and then Add to home screen.