Guyuan might have said more, but Ling Wu's wary gaze stopped him. He sighed. "The days are long. Next we meet, Miss Ah-Wu, do be less of a stranger to me."
With that, he drifted away.
A stranger? She wondered whether they'd known her past self. Yizhen spoke that way too whenever they met. But she had reincarnated—why couldn't they let go of what came before? She was now just a junior disciple under the War God of Mount Kunlun, a stranger to the lot of them.
On the way back, the sky paled to the white of a fish belly.
Ling Wu and Qingchen rode a single auspicious cloud. The farther they rose from the ground, the stronger the nagging sense that she'd forgotten something.
She looked at her master, then herself, and could not recall it for the life of her. She scratched her head, muttering, "What on earth did I forget..."
A soft meow snapped her thoughts back. Her eyes flew wide.
Oh no—she'd forgotten to release Yunshu!
The deal was: once the Qin Zheng matter was settled, they'd part ways. Another minute and the cat would be hauled up to Kunlun!
No wonder her master had kept glancing at her waist on the way—heaven terrorize it, he'd been trying to ask why she hadn't let Yunshu go yet!
The old gentleman was oddly thin-skinned; afraid that saying it outright would seem like chasing a guest off, he could only hint with his eyes.
With two dry laughs, Ling Wu hastily set Yunshu down on the cloud. White light flashed, and Yunshu regained her human form.
She looked at them pleadingly. "Truly, I can't come back to Kunlun with you?"
She was terrified—if the Demon Lord caught her, her life was forfeit!
Before Qingchen could speak, Ling Wu refused righteously, "Immortals and demons walk different roads. Find yourself somewhere else."
A demon should be a demon! Why insist on cultivating immortality? Besides, Kunlun didn't take in every stray cat and dog!
Under her master, there was room for one—and only one—female disciple: herself!
Yunshu wouldn't give up. "And what does the Lord God think?"
Qingchen had watched every flicker of Ling Wu's reaction. The corners of his eyes curved, his tone indulgent. "What Ah-Wu says is what I say."
Even if she'd said nothing, he would have refused.
Across a million years, there was only one woman he would ever bend for.
Yunshu puffed up with anger, glaring, eyes darting between them.
Her mouth opened—she wanted to let loose a tirade, but didn't dare.
"Hmph! Where this cat's not wanted, someplace else will have her!" With that parting shot, Yunshu vanished with a swish.
Tsk. This little cat demon had quite the temper!
Still, Ling Wu was magnanimous. Given their pleasant enough time together in the mortal world, she wouldn't hold it against her.
Qingchen, meanwhile, gazed thoughtfully after the direction she'd vanished.
Passing the street where Shen Ci and Li Funing first met, Ling Wu was seized by a whim. "Master, do you know mortals write their wishes on these river lanterns?"
Qingchen raised a brow. "I've heard of it."
"And do the immortals see those wishes?"
Qingchen laughed. "Depends what they wish for. Mortal wishes come in all flavors, each assigned to a different immortal official. And you've seen for yourself what our officials' tempers are like, Ah-Wu. A good-tempered one will gladly lend mortals a hand. A bad-tempered one—the lantern can drift to the ends of the water and it won't matter."
The right to decide always rests with those above. A truth unchanging since the beginning.
Ling Wu suddenly leaned in, eyes blinking wide. "All these years—have any mortals wished to you, Master?"
"Naturally." He met her eyes, his tone earnest. "When you were little, Ah-Wu, didn't you wish to me constantly? For pretty dresses, for tasty pastries—for me to make you prettier."
She hadn't expected her master to turn this on her. She blinked. Those were just things she'd blurted out. Did those count as wishes?
As if he knew her thoughts, Qingchen added, "Every word you say, Ah-Wu—I remember."
His gaze grew gentler and gentler, until her heart began racing again.
"So the way your disciple turned out—that's all your doing, Master?" she pressed.
Qingchen considered a moment, then shook his head. "I am no spirit in a wishing well. Not everything can come true."
"The dresses were bought by Xunzhi. The pastries he carried down the mountain for you. Such trifles—no need for my arts."
He said it all so matter-of-factly that Ling Wu could only admire him.
In other words: he collected the wishes and never fulfilled a one. And here she'd actually been moved a moment ago. Wasted!
Who knew how long the cloud had flown when the shadow of Kunlun appeared faintly ahead. If the senior brothers were on the mountain, they'd no doubt come out to greet them soon.
Looking down at herself, Ling Wu discovered that at some point she'd taken over most of the cloud, squeezing her master into the edge. She looked like a bandit chief holding the mountain.
She gasped and hastily shuffled back to give him room.
Utter blasphemy!
If the senior brothers saw, a scolding would be the least of it.
All her mortal-world trespasses against her master would have to be buried deep, she decided. Let one word slip, and her little life was forfeit.
Some of her senior brothers were blindly, doggedly devoted—their reverence for their master rivaled the most obsessive fanatics.
Qingchen noticed her shuffling and murmured, "One more step back, Ah-Wu, and you'll fall off."
She glanced around, sure he was talking nonsense. There was room behind her for three more people at least—how could she possibly fall?
"Rest easy, Master. Your disciple is thick-skinned and tough—a little fall won't hurt." She could always whip out a talisman, turn it into a carriage, and catch herself.
"Be good. Come closer to me." Qingchen beckoned.
Her hand reached out and took his before she could think.
Both of them froze.
One could hardly kneel and kowtow on a cloud. She yanked her hand back in a panic. "M-Master, your disciple was momentarily possessed—"
Qingchen gave a soft "mm," no blame in it.
She'd pulled away too fast for him to catch the warmth of her palm.
After so many twists of fate, even holding her hand had become a luxury.
Let it go. Let it go.
Yunshu had returned to the spot where Qin Zheng was taken. She looked down at the ground, cold pooling in her eyes.
She had not sensed wrong. Ling Wu was that person!
All these years Yunshu had roamed the three realms and met many who carried her aura. None of them were her.
Now, at last, she had waited long enough.
At the edge of her vision, a figure appeared before her again, ghostlike.
"She is that one's reincarnation." Yunshu stated it as fact.
The man across from her smiled lazily. "What a coincidence you found out so quickly."
Yunshu studied him, expression unreadable. "And your next move, Lord Ghost?"
The man was Guyuan.
He arched a brow. "Forgot to mention: this lord takes one step at a time. Why don't you tell me your plan first?"
He was making it plain he had no intention of cooperating.
She scoffed, eyes burning into him. "Don't tell me you still harbor illusions about her?"
"Let me think—where exactly would you rank in her heart? With Lord God Qingchen there, no one else even registers. The Demon Lord might be second. You—third, perhaps?" Her voice dripped contempt.
Guyuan remained unhurried. He spoke slowly, like a piece of advice: "Say what you like. Only—this lord is kind by nature, so let me warn you: do her no harm. If she is hurt, those two will not let you off easy~"