Volume Three: Unrestrained No More Chapter Eighty-Two

Geng Yuan was unsure of his own feelings; only now did his heart begin to pound violently, as if he had not dared to breathe until this moment. His eyes grew red as he stood, lifting his gaze toward the direction in which the young woman had left. She wore a flowing sky-blue gown, a moon-white sash at her waist, and the Cloud Gate shawl fluttered in the wind—still so beautiful.

Just as he was about to leave, someone tugged gently at his sleeve. He looked down to see the same child from before, his eyes cautious as he offered the food in his hands. Geng Yuan smiled softly and then crouched down.

The child raised a clean handkerchief to gently wipe the fresh blood from Geng Yuan’s forehead, then pressed a medicine bottle into his palm. In a soft voice, he said, “Thank you, brother.”

Geng Yuan accepted it, and the child’s mother’s eyes welled with gratitude.

He left.

He did not know where he should go. He thought he ought to return to that place to see whether the Shark Demon had truly been released, but now, with his spiritual powers so diminished, even the simple act of riding his sword through the skies was a struggle.

Rain began to fall, a fine, persistent drizzle that soon soaked his clothes, though Jin Li had just helped him dry them not long ago.

He sighed lightly. Now, he was Huai Gui, no longer Geng Yuan. Perhaps, like this, he could begin anew with A Jin.

“Who are you, really?”

Geng Yuan tensed, turning in surprise to see Jin Li leaning against a red pillar. When she saw him, a gentle smile slowly spread across her face. She was still the same—free-spirited, confident, and so radiant it was impossible to look away.

“What’s wrong? Has falling in the water robbed you of speech?”

The rain fell harder.

Without another word, Jin Li strode over and pulled him under the eaves to shelter from the rain.

The youth was striking to behold, his features as delicate as carved jade, his figure tall and slender.

Yet he seemed unable to speak; after having uttered just one sentence earlier, he now only gazed at her in silence.

She crossed her arms. Ruan Tu had gone to help the other disciples; Jin Li had no interest in that, so she lingered here, enjoying the sight of the rain—never expecting she would truly encounter someone.

“Are you mute, or simply frightened senseless?”

“...No... I’m not.”

Warmth flooded his heart, swelling within him until his eyes grew moist.

The girl looked at those beguiling, almond-shaped eyes brimming with unshed tears. In their profound darkness, her own reflection was visible. Yet why did those eyes hold such sorrow, such regret, guilt, and an overwhelming, burning longing and love?

Beauty, yes, but a beauty tinged with loneliness—a tragic, solitary allure.

A smile played on the girl’s lips. “Do you know me?”

Geng Yuan’s heart skipped a beat.

“...No... I don’t.”

Good.

She extended her hand, startling Geng Yuan, whose eyes were full of innocent confusion.

Such an expression and gaze—so pure—made one want to act recklessly.

“To apply medicine.”

Her voice was soft, yet carried a bright, clear ring.

The youth’s eyes were rimmed with tears, and droplets clung to his hair, sparkling enticingly.

Jin Li took the medicine from his hand and bade him sit. Once seated, the difference in their heights lessened, and Geng Yuan gazed intently at her.

Jin Li noticed the emotion in his eyes and thought this youth was almost excessively innocent. Were all the disciples of the Immortal Mountain so easy to fluster and so easy to tease?

“What’s your name?” she asked suddenly.

Geng Yuan was caught off guard. “Geng... Huai Gui.”

“Geng Huai Gui?”

“...No, just Huai Gui.”

She raised an eyebrow and nodded. Her fingers were warm and gentle as she applied the medicine, as if afraid to hurt him, blowing softly on the wound. The two were close; he could catch the faint scent of lotus on her, the soft breeze caressing his injury and brushing his ear.

His throat tightened involuntarily.

“Your ears are red.”

Geng Yuan, flustered, reached up to touch his ears, panic in his eyes—only to hear Jin Li laugh lightly.

“Are you tricking me again?”

The boy’s voice carried a hint of feigned indignation. Jin Li arched her brow and said with a smile, “You’re so young; by seniority, you should address me as ‘Elder Master.’”

“I won’t.”

She hadn’t expected him to refuse. Jin Li placed her hands on her waist and looked down at him. “Why not? Respect for elders is proper; it’s only right that you address me as Elder Master.”

A smile slowly crept into the boy’s eyes. Surely her age surpassed even the ancient elders of the Immortal Mountain, but with her youthful appearance, who could bring themselves to call her Elder Master?

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Sister, you have neither the silver hair of a master nor the age-lines of an elder. So, sister, I really shouldn’t call you Elder Master.”

Sister?

Indeed, questions of seniority were always the best way to spark conversation. In the short time it took to finish applying the medicine, so many words had been exchanged.

A playful smile curled at Jin Li’s lips. “You’re quite the clever junior.”

Geng Yuan rose, then bowed respectfully. “Sister flatters me. Thank you, sister.”

There was a glint of danger in her eyes just then, when a voice called out, “Huai Gui!”

Jin Li did not turn, but glanced sideways to see a disciple striding toward them—upright and dignified, square-faced, with determined eyes. Behind him stood several injured disciples, dressed in the same style as the youth before her; evidently, they hailed from the same mountain.

Geng Yuan bowed. “Senior Brother.”

Huai Xiu saw his junior brother’s soaked clothes, pale face, and the wounds on his hands, and could not bring himself to scold him for leaving without leave.

It must be said, Huai Gui was truly the favorite of Buzhao Mountain; though the senior brothers bore injuries, each one was still concerned for Huai Gui’s wellbeing.

Jin Li folded her arms, observing the group. Their looks were unremarkable, perhaps, but their righteous bearing and immortal air truly did resemble the legendary immortals.

Just then, Huai Xiu noticed the woman standing behind Huai Gui, arms crossed.

Radiant as spring blossoms, pure as the autumn moon.

One glance was enough to steal the breath away.

“This young lady, I am Huai Xiu of Buzhao Mountain.”

Buzhao Mountain? A disciple of Immortal Qingsong?

Jin Li nodded, unsmiling. Without a smile, she was as serene and luminous as the moon at mid-autumn.

“I am Huai Mu.”

“I am Huai An.”

“I am Huai Yang.”

...

As soon as Huai Xiu finished, one disciple after another introduced themselves politely and respectfully. Geng Yuan, on the side, narrowed his eyes at them in secret; he knew all too well what was in their hearts.

Jealous, he stepped in front of Jin Li, smiling but subtly challenging his senior brothers, determined not to let them look at her.

The girl seemed to see through his thoughts and smiled, then said to the disciples, “Juniors, your Elder Master has other matters; I’ll take my leave.”

With that, she stepped forward and dissolved into mist, vanishing before the disciples of Buzhao Mountain.

In an instant, astonishment froze on every face.

As if thunderstruck.

That delicate young lady was actually their Elder Master?

Geng Yuan stifled a laugh, gazing after Jin Li as she departed, his eyes filled with endless longing.

Perhaps they would meet again—when his cultivation improved, during the next examination of magical arts.

Huai Xiu pulled him aside. “Who is she?”

Without hesitation, Geng Yuan replied, “Our Elder Master.”

The disciples decided it was best to focus on their cultivation. After offering their farewells, they rode their swords back to Buzhao Mountain.

These days, immortals were far too formidable; it was best to concentrate on improving one’s own skills.

When Jin Li returned to Lotus River, she wore a look of delight. Qi Sui saw her and asked, “What is it, My Lady? Why are you so happy?”

Jin Li sat down, recalling the youth, and couldn’t help but smile again. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just met a very interesting person.”

Qi Sui chuckled. “So you plan to go to the mortal realm tomorrow, My Lady?”

Jin Li nodded, taking a sip of water as she chatted with Qi Sui. “This year’s Mid-Autumn Festival should be especially lively. We missed it last year, but this time, we must see the fireworks in the mortal world.”

“Of course.”

Back at the northern wing, Qi Sui prepared to take his leave, but Jin Li suddenly turned and said, “Qi Sui, call me ‘sister’—let me hear it.”

Qi Sui was taken aback, a flush of red spreading over his handsome features. He lowered his gaze, bit his lip, and then spoke softly, “...Sis... My Lady, I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

Qi Sui was always proper and courteous, paying great attention to etiquette. It was natural he struggled to say it.

She laughed. “Don’t forget to come tomorrow—don’t be late!”

Qi Sui nodded, and Jin Li watched him go.

As she pushed open the door, a familiar fragrance reached her, bringing a smile tinged with helplessness to her lips. “My beautiful lady, weren’t you traveling the Four Continents? Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”

Tu Shanyan scolded, “How did you discover me so quickly?”

Tu Shanyan was the youngest daughter of the Tushan clan of Qingqiu’s great marshes and later married the ancient God of War, bearing Jin Cheng and Jin Li.

She was renowned for her beauty and grace, gentle yet unyielding. She had once fought alongside the God of War while pregnant with Jin Li.

The world praised her as Empress Yao Cen.

She was, to this day, the only female among the three great Emperors.

It was said that in ancient times, beneath the Ninefold Emperor, there were four Emperors who each guarded a quarter of the heavens. But after the great war, both the Ninefold Emperor and the God of War fell, and the God of War’s wife—Jin Li’s mother—remained. Before Jin Li was born, her father had perished; her mother, heavy with child, fought demons and pacified the land.

After the Heavenly Lord took the throne, the three remaining Emperors withdrew from the world, leaving only Empress Yao Cen to wander the realms, her whereabouts unknown, becoming a legend to later generations.

But now, the gentle-eyed, slightly reproachful Empress sat reclined on the couch before her.

“Just look at you, always bullying Qi Sui all day long.”

She must have overheard her earlier words.

Tu Shanyan had never cared for convention. The story of her disregard for etiquette upon entering the God of War’s palace was now one of the great tales of the four seas and eight realms.

“Mother, have you returned from your travels?”

Since Jin Li had grown and become Lady of Lotus River, Tu Shanyan had left her affairs alone, claiming, “I have enough trouble taking care of myself, much less you.”

Indeed, mother and daughter were much alike.

“I just came back from your brother’s place a few days ago.”

“Oh? He wasn’t at home?”

“He was, and I am quite pleased with his beloved.”

Jin Li peeled a lychee, her slender white fingers quickly revealing the tender fruit, which she held to Tu Shanyan’s lips. “As the messenger rides through the dust, the consort smiles. Beautiful lady, have one.”

Tu Shanyan ate and continued, “See, your brother is preparing for his life ahead. Can’t you also find someone you like and live a peaceful life?”

She had known all along that Tu Shanyan had come to say such things.

“But I won’t pressure you. My daughter—none are worthy of you.”

Jin Li laughed.

At night, mother and daughter lay together, chatting idly. Yet by the candlelight, Jin Li noticed the silver at Tu Shanyan’s temples.

A deity does not age easily, much less an ancient Empress.

She tightened her embrace around Tu Shanyan.

“Do you remember that old ancestor of the Southern Abyss?”

Jin Li murmured assent.

“He’s gone.”

Tu Shanyan’s tone was calm and serene, as though speaking of something commonplace. Perhaps they had long since ceased to grieve over the passing of old comrades; to them, after becoming immortal dust, one simply journeyed to another realm.