She had returned to the sixth year of Shengping, in the year when Zhan Yunwei regained consciousness. Outside the window, the crows cried mournfully. A warm drop of water fell on her cheek, and someone was holding her and crying. Yunwei opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was pitch darkness. Only when the moonlight spilled through the window did she realize where she was. This was a dungeon.
In the small space, several women were crowded together, their hair and flowers disheveled, some old and some young. They leaned against each other, their faces weary, with traces of tears on some of them. In the corner sat three delicate-looking young men, their faces also filled with sadness. The situation here was still bearable, but not far away, in another cell, the prisoners appeared to be in much worse condition. The instruments of torture had pierced their bones, and their bodies were covered in blood. These were all spiritual practitioners who had awakened their abilities. Perhaps fearing they would escape, not only were there formations set on the ground, but the bars of the dungeon were also covered with densely packed talismans.
By the light of the moon, Yunwei stared at the familiar faces around her, momentarily stunned. Seeing her expression change, the person holding her anxiously placed a hand on her forehead. "Yanyang, are you feeling any discomfort?"
Yunwei's gaze shifted upward, and she saw a pale, haggard face. She opened her mouth, her voice hoarse: "Second Aunt?"
Lady Hua sighed in relief upon seeing that she recognized her and tears fell from her eyes. "I'm so glad you're okay. Otherwise, I'd never forgive myself..."
In the mid-summer night of May, the imperial prison was cold and grim, yet in Lady Hua's embrace, there was still a trace of warmth. The dull pain in her dantian throbbed, leaving Yunwei's face pale. But it was precisely this real and painful sensation that told her she wasn't dreaming. She had actually returned to the sixth year of Shengping, after her death.
She remembered it so clearly because that year a significant event shook the spiritual realm. The Immortal Alliance strongly opposed the massacre of ordinary people who had not yet transformed but were still possessed by evil spirits. The Spiritual Emperor of the Dynasty, already dissatisfied with the Immortal Alliance, took advantage of this pretext and waged war on the Immortal Mountains, determined to destroy them and seize the Sacred Artifact. The Immortal Mountains suffered a crushing defeat, and were forced to retreat with the Sacred Artifact, the "Xihe Sword," and the severely wounded young master of the Immortal Alliance, hoping to preserve their last hope.
However, from then on, the once-glorious Immortal Mountains no longer existed. This coup was sudden and unexpected, and not all practitioners managed to escape. Those who couldn't flee were either killed on the Ling Mountain or taken back to the Dynasty for imprisonment. The people now locked up in the dungeon were all practitioners who had been captured.
Lady Hua helped Yunwei sit up, then handed her a bowl of water she had saved. "Yanyang, drink some water."
The clear water was a relief, easing her discomfort. Yunwei finally had the energy to recall the situation she was in. Nearby, her cousin, Lady Hua's own daughter, Zhan Xueyin, asked weakly, "Mother, do you think Uncle and Young Master Pei will come to rescue us?"
Lady Hua's expression darkened, and when she heard her daughter speak, she was angered. "I don't know. Don't ask me. Worst case, we die."
What was there to fear about death? She had never been afraid of challenging the heavens during cultivation; would she be afraid of the imperial butcher's knife now? Yunwei understood why her usually gentle second aunt was so angry; it was because she was frustrated.
In the spiritual realm, most practitioners were born as spiritual cultivators, but it was extremely rare for one to awaken the ability of a "Spirit Master," a person capable of controlling spirits. Such people were precious. In today's world, where pure spiritual energy mixed with evil energy, all practitioners were at risk of being corrupted. Once the evil energy entered the body, the person would gradually lose themselves, becoming a "demonic spirit." However, Spirit Masters, despite their fragile bodies, had the ability to control spiritual energy, seal, and even eliminate the evil spirits! They were the hope and future of the spiritual realm.
Zhan Xueyin, as a "Spirit Master," though her talent wasn't remarkable, had always been cherished by Ling Mountain. On ordinary days, she neglected her cultivation and often boasted, "There are so many cultivators; it's not my responsibility to save people from Desolate City. What danger could there be at Ling Mountain?"
But when the Immortal Mountain was attacked, this cousin had no ability to protect herself. Clutching her newborn sister, she cried, begging Yunwei, "Cousin, save me!"
Yunwei had lost track of how many of her clan she had saved. Her spiritual energy had been drained, and in the end, she only had enough to protect herself. But her cousin's baby was only three months old and crying pitifully. With gritted teeth, she had taken the baby from Zhan Xueyin and used her remaining strength to send the infant into the protective formation. The consequence was that both she and Zhan Xueyin were captured by the enemy.
Yunwei had no regrets; at least she had saved the baby sister of her family. When she thought about it, one life for another wasn't too bad. Yet, ever since Zhan Xueyin was captured, she had been crying nonstop, as if the sky was falling. Yunwei didn't know why her cousin was so capable of crying. The constant wailing gave Yunwei a headache, and she finally said, "Stop crying. The Dynasty won't kill Spirit Masters. Father and Young Master Pei will come back to save our family."
What Yunwei said was true. However, her father and Young Master Pei were both severely injured at the time, their lives hanging by a thread. Saving the family would take months.
When Zhan Xueyin heard that there was still hope, she managed to stop crying, but the fear in the dungeon still lingered. Most of the Dynasty's Spirit Masters were spoiled, carefully protected, and never experienced the tragedy of losing their family. This was their first encounter with such devastation. Their hearts were filled with dread, and they couldn't help but wonder: Even if they weren't killed, they couldn't be imprisoned forever. What would the Dynasty do with them?
In the past, there were cases of Spirit Masters who had committed crimes and were given to the nobles. These masters were valuable, so most nobles treated them with care. But there were also a few unlucky Spirit Masters who, encountering cruel and ruthless individuals, lived lives worse than death.
Facing an uncertain fate, the prisoners in the dungeon were filled with anxiety.
Yunwei leaned on Lady Hua and sat up straight. She gently patted her second aunt's hand in an attempt to comfort her. Lady Hua's eyes were nearly filled with tears.
Madam Hua watched Yun Wei grow up and knew that her niece was pure-hearted. She deeply appreciated Yun Wei for saving her newborn daughter and felt guilty about her elder daughter's failure, which led to Yun Wei's suffering. Her heart ached with regret, feeling particularly sorry for the Lord of Changya Mountain, who was still stranded far away. Yun Wei understood her second aunt's guilt. In her past life, her second aunt had even died in the imperial prison while trying to help her escape. Yun Wei had been born without a mother and had received much care from her second aunt since childhood. She never regretted saving her second aunt's daughter. Now, as she retraced her steps, she vowed not to let her second aunt suffer again.
Yun Wei looked up and was surprised to see a full moon outside the window in the stillness of the night. The full moon was beautiful, and it gave her a sense of hope. However, the silence in the prison did not last long. A group of footsteps interrupted the quiet of the night. A voice from outside rose in pitch: "Are all the remnants of Ling Mountain locked up here?" The prison guard responded, "Yes, but may I ask who you are?"
"I am a spiritual guard of the Third Prince. His Highness ordered me to come to the imperial prison and take someone for interrogation," the voice answered. The prison guard was taken aback. "Who would you like to take?"
"The daughter of the Lord of Changya Mountain, Zhan Yun Wei." Most cultivators were sharp-eyed and sharp-eared, and the newcomer had not made much effort to lower his voice. As soon as the words were spoken, all the prisoners in the cell turned their eyes toward Yun Wei, and even Zhan Xueyin, who usually had issues with her, could not help but feel a touch of sympathy.
The Third Prince of the dynasty was notorious among the people of Ling Mountain—tyrannical, cruel, and with a notorious lust for women. The next day was to be the day the Emperor issued his decree, yet the Third Prince had already sent someone to the imperial prison that night, making his base intentions quite clear. Everyone knew that the Lord of Changya Mountain had a beloved daughter who was a talented spiritual practitioner. She had awakened early to a remarkable spiritual talent, and as she grew, her beauty and intelligence had made her well-known throughout the dynasty. Later, she became engaged to Pei Yujing, the young master of the Celestial Alliance, a match that had become a legend in the spiritual realm. If the situation had been different, when Ling Mountain still held sway over the spiritual realm, Zhan Yun Wei would have been destined to be the future mistress of the spiritual domain. But as the power of the dynasty grew stronger each day, forcing the Celestial Alliance to retreat, the spiritual mountain's situation had become increasingly dire.
At times like this, possessing beauty was no longer a blessing, but a sword hanging over one's head.
Yun Wei could feel her second aunt's body stiffening. She lowered her eyes, looking at the pale back of her hand. At this moment, her spiritual elixir was damaged, and every movement caused pain. The prison guard outside hesitated before speaking. "His Majesty is supposed to deal with these remnants tomorrow. The Third Prince sending people tonight... It's not quite right..."
"How dare you defy orders?" the voice sharply interrupted. The prison guard immediately fell silent, his fear clear. Three years ago, the imperial prison had been absorbed under the management of the Che Tian Mansion, and now it was controlled by the ruthless and calculating Master of the Che Tian Mansion, Yue Zhi Heng. The Che Tian Mansion was the one entity everyone in the dynasty feared, and the prison guard shuddered at the thought of it. The choice was clear—defy the Third Prince, and he would face certain death, but defy the Che Tian Mansion, and the consequences would be far worse.
Yun Wei held her breath, sensing that the trajectory of this life might not be so different from her past. After a while, the prison guard said, "Please wait here, I'll check the roster and find the person you're looking for." Yun Wei knew that the other guards were likely notifying the Che Tian Mansion, and that she would not be taken away by the Third Prince tonight. She felt a brief sense of relief.
It was almost comical that this small sense of security had come from that person in the Che Tian Mansion.
Madam Hua's face was pale as she looked at her delicate, pale niece. After a long while, as if making a decision, she grasped Yun Wei's hand. "Yanyang, you must leave. I'll send you away." Yun Wei had not known in her past life what method her second aunt meant. Later, she learned that Madam Hua had used the broken spiritual elixir to force open the formation of the imperial prison. Sadly, her sincere efforts were in vain, as Yun Wei was too weak to escape. The capital city was full of pursuers, and it was clear she would never be able to leave.
This time, she would not let Madam Hua suffer.
Yun Wei tugged at Madam Hua's sleeve. "Don't worry, Second Aunt. I still have a few talismans. Once we get out, I'll find a way to escape."
Madam Hua never considered that her niece might deceive her, and upon hearing her words, she sighed in relief.
Zhan Xueyin timidly came over. "I'm sorry… Mother, I'm sorry, Cousin Yun Wei." She truly regretted not cultivating properly.
Though Madam Hua still wore a cold expression, she no longer scolded or drove Zhan Xueyin away. Yun Wei silently watched from the side, feeling a twinge of envy. Although Zhan Xueyin had always envied her talent and her engagement, Yun Wei knew that Zhan Xueyin had something she longed for—a mother who cared for her. If Yun Wei had had a mother, when her spiritual roots were shattered, her father died, and the Ling Mountain forced Pei Yujing to marry another, her mother would have stood in front of her and slapped all the shameless people across the face.
The moonlight bathed Yun Wei's form. After a long while, she silently withdrew her gaze.
In the capital city, the silver moon hung high. A group of men in black robes with silver lotus patterns rode on the "Blue-faced Ghost Crane" and descended. The night watchmen hurriedly stepped aside.
The "Blue-faced Ghost Crane" had wings that stretched for several yards, nearly blotting out the sky. The wind and rain it stirred caused the watchmen to retreat in fear. They knew it was the return of those hunting the fugitives, and they dared not speak.
The "Blue-faced Ghost Crane" was the artifact of the Che Tian Mansion. They were modeled after huge cranes with blue stone faces, tusked mouths, and claws that could kill. The leader of this group, a young man with ink-black hair and a jade crown, glanced downward with a cold, sharp expression. It was none other than Yue Zhi Heng, the current Master of the Che Tian Mansion.
He spread his hand, and the ghost crane with tusks obediently transformed into a jade ring, which landed in his palm. Someone from the Che Tian Mansion hurried forward. "My Lord, you have returned at last."
Yue Zhi Heng had not rested for three days. His face carried signs of fatigue and impatience. "Has something happened in the capital?"
"No, not exactly. But word from the imperial prison says the Third Prince wishes to interrogate someone."
Yue Zhi Heng paused, his eyes flickering slightly. "The Third Prince wants to interrogate someone?" Though his voice was calm, the man behind him, Shen Ye, could sense the hidden sarcasm in his tone. The Third Prince, the frivolous fool who preferred women's company over dealing with the real issues, was now trying to conduct interrogations? What could he possibly uncover—who was the most beautiful girl in the prison?
As Yue Zhi Heng continued walking toward the mansion, he absentmindedly toyed with the jade ring in his hand. His eyes were narrow, and a small red mole under his eye made him appear even more distant and cold.
"Who does he want to interrogate?" he asked, his voice still steady.
The guard followed behind carefully. "The Third Prince asked for the daughter of the Lord of Changya Mountain, the fiancée of the young master of the Penglai Sect, Pei Yujing, Zhan Yun Wei."
Yue Zhi Heng slowed his pace, his steps coming to a halt before the statue of the Xie Zhi, a mythical beast of justice.
Trouble.
The guard broke into a cold sweat. "They arrived at the imperial prison at the first watch, and now it's already the third watch…"
Shen Ye lifted his head, seeing their master turn around, his gaze cold and piercing.
"You mean to say, without my consent, they have already taken her away?"