After lunch, Mu Yunhe began planning to leave the Mu Manor with Bai Fanlu through the back gate. The front yard was still bustling with guests, and the feast was lively and grand.

Meanwhile, rumors about the Mu family’s young bride had quietly spread after the morning tea ceremony, but that’s a story for another time.

According to tradition, a master going on a long trip should bring one or two servants along. However, Mu Yunhe, being someone who liked to do things freely, disliked having people follow him—especially now, with Bai Fanlu accompanying him. He definitely didn’t want anyone irrelevant around to interfere.

Despite this, Liu Xin, upon hearing that Bai Fanlu was going to Qingying, couldn’t help but worry. After all, in her eyes, Mu Yunhe came from a privileged background and was unlikely to know how to take care of daily needs.

“Jiangnan cuisine is sweet and sticky. I fear our master might not adapt to it,” she said while packing Bai Fanlu’s clothes in his room.

Mu Yunhe, who had just come in after ordering the carriage, overheard her and confidently said, “I know Lin Qiu’s preferences. Everything in Qingying has already been arranged.”

“When did the young lord ever know our master’s favorite foods?” Liu Xin grumbled slightly, still displeased that Mu Yunhe wouldn’t let her tag along, especially since they might be gone for ten days or more.

“Really. Don’t believe me? Ask him. I know, don’t I?” Mu Yunhe smiled.

Bai Fanlu remembered the midnight snack from the night before. It was different from the sweet treats prepared according to wedding customs that morning, which were all sugary delicacies. The midnight snack, however, clearly suited his taste perfectly.

“I don’t entirely avoid sweets,” Bai Fanlu replied, trying to avoid giving Mu Yunhe the satisfaction of being right, downplaying the question.

Liu Xin saw her master’s slightly awkward expression and Mu Yunhe’s unabashed, eager gaze. She suddenly understood and, with a mischievous smile, held her face and said teasingly, “Oh, I get it now—”

“There’s no need to bring too many clothes. These are enough,” Bai Fanlu interrupted, moving to pack the clothes himself. Liu Xin finally put aside her playful curiosity and resumed her task.

“Let me do it, let me do it,” Liu Xin quickly folded the clothes, sticking out her tongue. “I won’t be reckless anymore, master. Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

Bai Fanlu had never been one to care about the master-servant hierarchy, so there was no issue of recklessness. He just felt that this little maid had been corrupted by Mu Yunhe in such a short time, and she kept teasing him.

Mu Yunhe glanced at the few women’s outfits on the bed and turned to Liu Xin. “These are too many. Just take the white one, the purple one, and the lotus-colored one.”

“Only so few?” Liu Xin was concerned that the journey would take three to five days. Without extra clothes, it would be inconvenient to change. Was Mu Yunhe planning to wash the clothes himself on the road?

“I’ll buy a few more for Lin Qiu on the way,” Mu Yunhe said. “Three sets will be enough for now.”

Bai Fanlu was puzzled, “These are already new.”

They were all custom-made in a rush for the wedding, brand new.

“I’ll buy ones that suit you even better,” Mu Yunhe replied mysteriously.

When they left through the city gate, it was early afternoon. As the carriage swayed gently, Bai Fanlu, feeling drowsy, leaned against the side and closed his eyes to rest.

He was almost asleep when Mu Yunhe pulled him over, laying him down halfway so that his body rested on a soft cushion.

“This way, it’ll be more comfortable to sleep.”

In his half-asleep state, Bai Fanlu found this much more comfortable. At least now he had a place to rest his head and wouldn’t be startled awake with every bump.

Mu Yunhe waited for a while until he saw Bai Fanlu was asleep, then gently pulled up a thin cover.

The carriage had two opposite-facing seats. Mu Yunhe had originally been sitting across from Bai Fanlu but quietly moved over. Now, Bai Fanlu’s head was resting on Mu Yunhe’s lap, though a cushion was placed between them, so Bai Fanlu probably thought he was lying directly on the seat.

No choice—his wife was shy, so he had to do this secretly.

Mu Yunhe gazed at Bai Fanlu’s sleeping face, and the longer he looked, the warmer his heart felt. Simply watching him like this filled him with an indescribable sense of satisfaction.

The scenery outside the carriage was retreating slowly. Mu Yunhe instructed the coachman to slow down a little, reducing the shaking of the carriage. Bai Fanlu unconsciously shifted.

Seeing that Bai Fanlu was still uncomfortable, Mu Yunhe lifted his legs, took off his shoes, and laid him down completely flat.

This new position seemed agreeable because Bai Fanlu turned over, pressing closer to Mu Yunhe.

His face was now nestled near Mu Yunhe’s waist, and Mu Yunhe instantly tensed up, not daring to move.

For a long time, Bai Fanlu remained still, clearly in a deep sleep.

But Mu Yunhe couldn’t relax anymore. His body responded to Bai Fanlu’s every breath, causing an internal struggle. Last night’s desire had been stifled and left unresolved, and now, with Bai Fanlu in such a suggestive position, Mu Yunhe was caught between torment and pleasure, both excited and helpless.

Bai Fanlu woke up with a jolt when his nose bumped into something hard. The pain brought him fully awake.

The coachman called out from the front, explaining that stones had suddenly fallen from the mountain, causing a bumpy ride as the wheels rolled over them.

Bai Fanlu guessed he must have hit the beam of the carriage. He reached forward, trying to find something to hold on to and sit up, but before he could grab anything solid, a hand caught his wrist.

That was close… Mu Yunhe exhaled softly, almost letting his wife grab something he shouldn’t.

Bai Fanlu knew it was Mu Yunhe. But the heat from Mu Yunhe’s palm was unusual, and he could feel that his hand was slightly sweaty. What was going on?

With the coachman still present, it wasn’t convenient to speak openly. Bai Fanlu remained silent as Mu Yunhe gently pushed him from behind to help him sit up straight.

During the jostling of the carriage earlier, the cushion Bai Fanlu had been lying on had shifted. As he sat up, it slid off the seat. Before Mu Yunhe could retrieve it, Bai Fanlu’s hand brushed against his side, and only then did Bai Fanlu realize they had been sitting side by side.

Could it be that he had been sleeping on someone’s lap?

But that person wouldn’t admit it, of course.

Bai Fanlu quietly moved to the side and tried to put his feet down, only to realize his shoes were missing.

Just as he bent down, Mu Yunhe silently slid the shoes over to him, placing them within reach. Bai Fanlu quickly put them on.

He could tell Mu Yunhe had moved the shoes, and although Mu Yunhe’s actions were indirect, it wasn’t hard to guess his intention—he was trying to take care of him while protecting his pride.

So what should one say about this Mu Yunhe?

For the rest of the journey, Mu Yunhe didn’t return to his seat across from Bai Fanlu. He stayed beside him.

He lifted the curtain, describing the sights outside as they passed by. Bai Fanlu simply listened quietly, imagining what the scenery might look like as the wind carried it into his mind’s eye. It felt quite pleasant.

Listening to Yun Zhan’s voice was also enjoyable, much like listening to a radio drama.

Suddenly, Bai Fanlu thought of his long-forgotten idol. It had been a long time since he’d thought about him. In fact, Bai Fanlu had nearly forgotten him.

Now, as he tried to recall that voice, the memory was vague—it had been too long. He couldn’t remember what it was about that voice that had once been his emotional anchor for so many years.

Instead, it was Yun Zhan’s voice now that resonated deeply within him.

At this moment, Mu Yunhe’s descriptions were simple, reflecting his lack of formal education. His narration was disjointed and his observations dry and unstructured.

But it was still captivating. Bai Fanlu found himself drawn in, and before he realized it, they had arrived at their destination for the day.

“The rooms here are quite basic, so you’ll have to make do for tonight.”

Once they were alone in the room, Bai Fanlu no longer had to pretend to be mute. “Why would that be an issue? Do you really think I’m a woman?”

“It’s not that I think of you as a woman. I think of you as my wife.”

“…Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Not at all! There are countless men and women in the world, but I have only one wife—and that’s you.”

Bai Fanlu realized he couldn’t win this argument and decided not to dwell on such a pointless topic.

The innkeeper brought dinner to their room. Clearly, Mu Yunhe had stayed here before, as he explained, “This place is often used by officials passing through, so the food is pretty good. Try it. See if I picked things that suit your taste.”

He helped serve the dishes, and Bai Fanlu tasted them, finding them quite delicious. He remembered something and asked, “How did you know I don’t like sweet food?”

“That’s not hard to figure out,” Mu Yunhe replied with a smile. “I noticed it that day at Lingbo Pavilion.”

Bai Fanlu thought about it and realized it was true. He had taken one bite of the sweet dish on his plate that day but hadn’t gone back for seconds.

“I didn’t think you’d be the type to pay attention to such details when dining with friends.”

He was intending to tease Mu Yunhe a little, but as soon as he said it, he heard Mu Yunhe chuckle. Bai Fanlu immediately guessed where this was going and tried to change the subject, “The food here is quite good.”

“It is—delicious, and very appetizing,” Mu Yunhe replied casually.

“…”

Bai Fanlu had dodged the first jab, but he couldn’t avoid the second.

He thought to himself that once he recovered his cultivation, the first thing he’d do was silence Yun Zhan’s voice for a while, just so the man could experience what it felt like to be left speechless. This was a grudge he mentally noted down for later.

After dinner, the two of them walked around the inn for a while. When the sky turned completely dark, Bai Fanlu still didn’t feel like going back to their room. Having slept earlier in the afternoon, he was now wide awake, so Mu Yunhe kept him company.

There wasn’t much to do around the inn, though. Mu Yunhe gazed up at the sky, suddenly thinking of something. He turned to Bai Fanlu and asked, “You’ve seen stars before, right?”

Bai Fanlu nodded, unsure of where this was going.

“Come on, let’s go somewhere higher. I’ll point out the stars for you.”

“Huh?…”

Bai Fanlu was about to question the point of two grown men stargazing together, but then he realized Mu Yunhe had said he would “point out the stars” for him to hear. It was an intriguing idea.

Mu Yunhe wrapped an arm around Bai Fanlu’s waist, using his light footwork to carry them both upwards. Initially, they landed on the roof of the inn, but then Mu Yunhe thought better of it. People in the inn might recognize him, and if they overheard their conversation, Bai Fanlu’s true identity as a man could be exposed.

So, Mu Yunhe brought Bai Fanlu to a tower nearby instead.

This spot was higher and offered a better view, though the wind was stronger as well. Mu Yunhe helped Bai Fanlu sit on the rooftop ridge and took off his own outer robe, draping it over him.

Bai Fanlu was about to refuse the gesture when his nose tickled, and he sneezed.

“…This body is really weak,” Bai Fanlu muttered, then asked softly, “Can I speak now?”

“Yes, you can. It’s my fault. I should’ve given you my coat sooner,” Mu Yunhe replied, pulling Bai Fanlu closer. “Is it still cold?”

“…It wasn’t that cold to begin with.” But being held like this, it did feel pretty warm.

“You’re wearing my coat—what about you?”

“I’m trained in martial arts. This bit of cold doesn’t bother me,” Mu Yunhe smiled again. “I’m strong, you know. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Bai Fanlu sighed softly, “Weren’t you going to tell me about the stars? Go ahead.”

Without smartphones or TV in this era, having someone narrate things wasn’t a bad way to pass the time. It was certainly better than sitting around doing nothing.

And just like any good broadcaster, Mu Yunhe started with a personal story, or a little anecdote.

“My mother told me that every person is a star. Ordinary people like us are the small, invisible ones. When we die, we fall from the sky. But we don’t actually fall to the ground—we go to another world and become stars again.”

This was a bit different from the usual story Bai Fanlu had heard, which was that people turned into stars after they died. The stars in the sky would represent your closest loved ones, watching over you and guiding you.

“And what about the bright stars that we can see?”

“My mother said those are gods—immortal beings. That’s why they’re so bright. But I don’t really believe it.”

Bai Fanlu didn’t respond. He listened as Mu Yunhe continued describing the stars he could see.

In ancient times, astrology must have been quite a profound field of study. Mu Yunhe had likely read about it in some random book. He described the Southern Vermilion Bird’s seven mansions, the Northern Black Tortoise’s seven mansions, the Well mansion formed by eight stars resembling a well, and the Dipper mansion formed by six stars that looked like a wine ladle. Everything he could see, he narrated to Bai Fanlu.

After finishing the stars, Mu Yunhe moved on to talk about various myths and legends related to the constellations, including many Bai Fanlu had never heard of, like the Heart Moon Fox, Kui Wood Wolf, and Wall Water Deer…

These obscure topics were quite fascinating, and Bai Fanlu listened attentively, while Mu Yunhe grew more excited as he spoke. Eventually, both of them lost track of time.

When Mu Yunhe finally realized that the moon had already begun to tilt to the west, he figured it was past midnight and said, “Let’s head back. I’ll tell you more tomorrow. There’s still so much to cover.”

“Alright.” Bai Fanlu hadn’t quite had enough yet.

Mu Yunhe helped him stand. As he glanced up, he noticed an extremely bright star rising in the west. “The Orion Star has risen.”

“What’s that?”

“The brightest star in the sky right now, in the far west. It just appeared.”

“Does it have any special significance?”

“No special significance, but there is something interesting about it. Before it rises, the brightest star in the sky is the Aldebaran Star in the east.”

“You mentioned it earlier, one of the stars in the Azure Dragon constellation, right?”

“Yeah. There’s a pattern—Orion rises in the west, and Aldebaran is in the east. When one rises, the other must set. They can never meet.”

Hearing this, Bai Fanlu felt a twinge of sadness.

“Isn’t that a little tragic?” Mu Yunhe gazed up at the sky, looking at that lone bright star, isolated without any other stars around it.

“I’ve often wondered if those stars were gods, what kind of relationship these two stars would have. Would they be sworn enemies or…”

“Or what?” Bai Fanlu asked.

Mu Yunhe shrugged and sighed dramatically, “Or maybe they’re a pair of star-crossed lovers like the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl!”

Bai Fanlu chuckled. “You’ve got quite the imagination.”

“Do you think I’m making things up?” Mu Yunhe laughed heartily. “I may not believe in gods, but if they did exist, I’m pretty sure I’d make a good one.”

Bai Fanlu couldn’t help but laugh. This strange confidence—was there any basis for it? Should he tell him that in his “past life,” he actually was a celestial being, and not just any celestial, but the foremost immortal of the realm?

“Let’s go,” Bai Fanlu urged.

Mu Yunhe asked him, “You don’t believe me?”

“No, I believe you.”

Mu Yunhe tightened his grip around Bai Fanlu’s waist, preparing to use his light footwork to fly them back. But after waiting for a moment, he didn’t move. Just as Bai Fanlu was about to ask why, Mu Yunhe grabbed his right hand and spread out his fingers.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at your palm.”

“You know how to do that?” Bai Fanlu was suspicious. Was this guy a fortune-teller now? Even in the celestial realm, it wasn’t that simple to divine someone’s fate from their palm.

“I’ve figured something out!” Mu Yunhe suddenly exclaimed.

For a moment, Bai Fanlu felt a bit nervous. What had he seen? What was with that tone?

Mu Yunhe swiftly turned Bai Fanlu’s hand and intertwined their fingers. “I’ve figured out that our hands are a perfect match.”

“…” Of course! Nothing good ever came out of his mouth.

Before Bai Fanlu could scold him, Mu Yunhe leaned closer and whispered, “So, even if we were gods—if we were the Orion Star and the Aldebaran Star—I wouldn’t be afraid.”

Bai Fanlu was taken aback. Was he saying…

“Even if we’re destined to light up the sky at different times, and even if you can’t see me, you’ll always know that I’m here.”

I’ll always be here.