When Lu Lingjue was still in the human realm, his favorite pastime was drinking. Ever since he was a child, he had a cold constitution and only felt warm and comfortable after drinking alcohol.

However, after he became an apprentice of the celestial lord Cangwu and started cultivating immortality, he rarely drank anymore. It wasn’t because the sect forbade it, but rather because he lived atop a mountain where no crops grew, and no wine was brewed. Thus, there was no opportunity to drink.

But recently, he had a chance. While completing a training assignment in the human realm, Lu Lingjue visited a place where they brewed wine from fresh flowers, which he found quite intriguing.

He stayed there for a few days to learn the art of brewing wine and named his creation “Yuxiu Liufang.” He even found a precious jade wine vessel and buried it beneath a peach tree, intending to return one day to indulge in a grand feast once the wine had matured.

Ling Qingzi, his senior brother, observed all of this and simply thought of it as a childish interest. He never expected that the following spring, Lu Lingjue would actually dig up the wine, eager to taste it.

“Senior brother, just let me have a little taste. Really, just a little, okay?”

With his overly beautiful face and such a gentle plea, anyone would have agreed.

Unfortunately, he was speaking to Ling Qingzi, who only kept a stern face, silently confiscating the wine and emphasizing just two words, “Harmful to your health.”

Lu Lingjue was born with a congenital illness, and his body had never fully recovered. That was why he was sent to cultivate immortal arts, to strengthen his body. Though he had great natural talent and his cultivation progressed quickly, his health remained poor.

Normally, Lu Lingjue would have accepted this reasoning when Ling Qingzi spoke. But this time, for some reason, Lu Lingjue reacted strongly to his brother’s refusal to let him drink. He became uncharacteristically silent for several days during his training in the human world, and even after returning to the sect, their relationship changed.

Though Ling Qingzi had always been cold, Lu Lingjue had never been deterred before. But this time, he truly seemed upset. Their interactions were reduced to just polite nods, with no more friendly greetings.

This was highly unusual for Lu Lingjue, who was naturally lively and cheerful. Though his health was poor, he had never been one to wallow in self-pity. Since joining the sect, no matter how many stern looks Ling Qingzi gave him, Lu Lingjue had never been this distant.

Later, by chance, Ling Qingzi overheard that the day Lu Lingjue dug up the wine had actually been his birthday in the human realm, which was also the anniversary of his mother’s death.

Another year passed, and before Ling Qingzi went on another mission, he crossed paths with Lu Lingjue.

Ten days later, upon returning to the sect, Ling Qingzi saw Lu Lingjue again from a distance. Neither of them spoke, maintaining the same silence as before.

But as Ling Qingzi passed by, he tossed a jade bottle to Lu Lingjue.

It was the “Cui Ye Liushang” bottle meant for holding wine. The scent of earth and peach blossoms lingered on it, and the stopper faintly hinted at the fragrance of alcohol.

Lu Lingjue turned around, only to see Ling Qingzi’s cold and aloof figure walking away.

That night, Lu Lingjue paced outside for a long time before finally gathering the courage to knock on Ling Qingzi’s door. When he entered, he saw Ling Qingzi, who, even at rest, maintained a stern and composed demeanor.

“Senior brother… do you want to drink with me?”

As he asked this, his eyelashes lowered, and his hands, like sculpted jade, cradled the jade wine bottle, giving off an air of solitude.

Ling Qingzi glanced at him briefly. The “No” he was about to say turned into a barely audible “Mhm.”

They went to the back of the sect, drinking under the moonlight.

It was Ling Qingzi’s first time drinking, and soon he began to feel drowsy. But with his strong self-control, he stood up to leave while he still had some clarity.

However, as soon as he stood, the alcohol hit him harder than he expected, and he wobbled unsteadily.

“Senior brother, take it slow,” Lu Lingjue said, steadying him.

Ling Qingzi wasn’t fully drunk, but his cheeks had turned slightly red from the alcohol. His eyes, however, remained bright—brighter and softer than the moonlight itself.

Ling Qingzi stared at him blankly, his mind suddenly overwhelmed by the wine. He couldn’t understand why this person was so good-looking, so much that it frustrated and unsettled him. It was utterly inappropriate!

The next day, Ling Qingzi didn’t see Lu Lingjue at all. Or perhaps, he had deliberately avoided him.

But that night, Lu Lingjue knocked on his door again, once more holding the jade wine bottle, looking somewhat nervous as he kept his head down.

“Senior brother, would you like to drink again tonight?”

Ling Qingzi replied flatly, “No.”

Lu Lingjue looked up, his gaze flickering. “But this is my—”

“Followers of the Way of Detachment cannot drink alcohol.”

After saying that, Ling Qingzi closed the door.

“But last night, you—” Lu Lingjue’s words were cut short as the door slammed shut in his face.

Even so, Lu Lingjue didn’t give up. Every year, when the “Yuxiu Liufang” wine was ready, he would invite his senior brother to drink, only to be turned away each time.

“Is it true that followers of the Way of Detachment can’t drink?”

“I’ve never heard of such a rule.”

“See? I knew it!”

Lu Lingjue, growing more determined with each refusal, eventually had a clever idea. One day, he secretly smeared some wine on the jade flute Ling Qingzi always carried with him.

It was meant to be a harmless prank, but unexpectedly, Ling Qingzi shattered the flute in response.

“Enough is enough.”

“…”

Silently, Lu Lingjue repaired the flute and left it outside Ling Qingzi’s door. After that, he never tried to invite him to drink again.

That night, Lu Lingjue didn’t drink either. Instead, he left the sect alone, feeling the need to vent his frustrations. All the bottled-up grievances he’d held against his senior brother seemed to flood out for the first time.

It was that very night when he met Bai Chuyu.

Many years later, Ling Qingzi would sometimes wonder: If he hadn’t rejected Lu Lingjue’s invitation that second night, if the jade flute hadn’t been broken, would everything have turned out differently?

Ling Qingzi often wanted to ask Lu Lingjue why he had always wanted to drink with him.

And why, later on, he stopped asking.

It wasn’t until after Lu Lingjue’s death that Ling Qingzi found the wine bottle at his residence.

The “Cui Ye Liushang” bottle was still full of wine, now aged into a true vintage. As Ling Qingzi gently twisted the stopper, the wine and jade seemed to merge into one, eventually transforming into the jade incense burner.

And inside that incense burner was the last remnant of Lu Lingjue’s soul that Ling Qingzi had managed to reclaim.

At this moment, that very soul was merging into Bai Fanlu’s body, and Ling Qingzi watched it intently, fearful of any misstep.

“Mm…” Bai Fanlu’s brow furrowed slightly as he slowly opened his eyes.

The Pu Du flower at his fingertips withered at a visible pace, completely absorbed by his body, leaving no trace behind.

After a while, Bai Fanlu turned his head slightly. “…”

Ling Qingzi remained silent, watching him closely. Neither spoke, and the air between them seemed to freeze for a moment.

Bai Fanlu sat up, his gaze falling on Ling Qingzi’s silver hair beside him. Ling Qingzi thought he would ask something, but instead, Bai Fanlu simply stood up and walked out of the cave.

With a wave of his hand, the barrier dispersed, and in the blink of an eye, he was at the peak of Lingjue Mountain.

“Yushan…” Bai Fanlu gazed out at the sea of clouds and spoke a name. Ling Qingzi’s calm eyes flickered as he stepped forward and called out, “Xiaolu.”

“Senior brother, do you still play the flute?”

Ling Qingzi conjured the jade flute in his palm.

Bai Fanlu looked at the flute, noticing the crack that ran along it. No matter how refined the celestial magic, it could never be perfectly repaired.

“Senior brother, you once said, ‘Those on different paths cannot work together.’ I have made my decision. Let me go.”

Ling Qingzi’s eyes darkened. His memory still seemed stuck on that day.

“Even if you don’t allow it, I will leave. I’m going to find Chuyu. Since a war between the immortals and demons cannot be avoided, I must stand by her side.”

“You can’t leave,” Ling Qingzi said.

His greatest regret had been allowing Lu Lingjue to leave that day.

If this was a second chance given by fate, he would never let him take that sword for him again, nor would he let him, covered in wounds, come begging for that woman.

“Senior brother, you can’t stop me.”

Bai Fanlu’s voice was still his own, soft with a hint of illness, much like Lu Lingjue’s.

But Ling Qingzi knew how resolute he was.

“Xiaolu, she’s gone. You know this deep down; you just don’t want to face it.”

“…Don’t want to face it?”

Bai Fanlu suddenly smiled. “Senior brother, why did your hair turn white?”

Ling Qingzi paused. He cultivated the Way of Detachment and had nearly transcended worldly emotions. But he had failed to pass his emotional tribulation. On the day Lu Lingjue died, his hair turned completely white overnight.

“Senior brother, aren’t you the one who also knows the truth but refuses to face it?”

Bai Fanlu caught a leaf from the divine tree.

This ancient tree had existed since the dawn of creation. No one had ever seen its crown, and it was a rare sight to witness a falling leaf. After absorbing thousands of years of essence from the heavens and earth, it was extraordinary.

“If it were a bamboo leaf, I might have been able to play a tune with your flute. But alas…” Bai Fanlu sighed. “You see, even the divine tree sheds its leaves and returns to its roots. So how could we be any different? Even with long lives, we will eventually reach our end.”

Bai Fanlu smiled and flicked the leaf, watching it land in the moss-covered soil of Lingjue Peak.

Suddenly, Ling Qingzi grabbed Bai Fanlu’s arm.

Bai Fanlu turned to him, the softness in his gaze slowly fading. “Senior brother, let me go.”

“Xiaolu…”

“I am already dead, senior brother. You know this deep down; you just don’t want to face it.”

He repeated the very words Ling Qingzi had spoken earlier, his rationality chilling to the core.

A sharp pain struck Ling Qingzi’s chest, causing his shoulders to tremble, but he still refused to let go of Bai Fanlu. He stepped closer, as if trying to see through him.

Bai Fanlu met his gaze, his eyes both familiar and strange.

“Who are you, really?” Ling Qingzi gritted his teeth and asked.

“…” Bai Fanlu let out a soft sigh. After a long pause, he slowly replied, “Senior brother… who do you hope I am?”

Ling Qingzi’s entire body trembled, and his always calm and controlled expression finally began to crumble. “You…!”

Bai Fanlu struggled to endure the headache as two consciousnesses alternated in his mind. He had been unable to resist, but suddenly, the other consciousness voluntarily relinquished control, allowing his own consciousness to return.

It seemed that “he” had willingly given up control of the body.

Before this happened, Bai Fanlu had overheard part of a conversation.

“Xiaolu, what are you saying…” Ling Qingzi gripped Bai Fanlu’s shoulders, forcing him to look up at him.

Although Bai Fanlu’s consciousness had returned, his body was still weak, as if his limbs had just been reshaped. It was like he was a child learning to walk for the first time, struggling to control his movements.

The pressure Ling Qingzi applied only added to his pain, especially where Ling Qingzi’s hand held him. It felt as if there was a continuous force drawing his strength away.

“Master, wake up. I am not my father!”

“No,” Ling Qingzi’s grip on his shoulder tightened as if he wanted to dig into his flesh. “You are Xiaolu.”

With a flick of his wrist, a water mirror suddenly appeared in front of them, and Bai Fanlu could clearly see his reflection—he had indeed changed into another appearance.

A bone-chilling cold rose from the soles of his feet as Bai Fanlu finally, completely, understood.

“So in Master’s eyes, I was merely a tool to resurrect my father?”

Ling Qingzi didn’t respond. His eyes, wild with a hidden madness, stared intently into Bai Fanlu’s, as if trying to see through him.

Bai Fanlu let out a bitter laugh. “I really am a fool…”

This person, who had raised him, who had always been so tolerant and caring, even though he was cold to others but was nothing but kind to him… The man he had always respected like a father, had harbored such thoughts all along?

In anger, Bai Fanlu turned away, sensing Ling Qingzi following him. He instinctively stepped back, but was pushed down, pinned to the ground with half of his body hanging off the edge of Lingjue Peak.

His hair was blown loose by the wind, and his entire back felt a cold chill.

But Ling Qingzi’s gaze was even colder, like ice, different from the earlier madness.

As their eyes met, Ling Qingzi clutched his chest, gasping in pain, his hand trembling more violently.

Sensing something was wrong, Bai Fanlu called out, “Master?”

As soon as he spoke, a searing pain spread across his neck as Ling Qingzi suddenly gripped it. His hand was burning hot, while the other, holding an ice spike against Bai Fanlu’s chest, was freezing cold.

Wang Chongyu had felt uneasy ever since he saw Ling Qingzi take Bai Fanlu away during the battle two days ago. He followed them closely, even faster than Yun Zhan, and waited outside Sanmu Pavilion, where he saw Ling Qingzi take Bai Fanlu up to Lingjue Peak, never to come down again.

Yun Zhan had asked Wang Chongyu about the two’s whereabouts, but Wang Chongyu, after some thought, had concealed the truth. He saw Yun Zhan go up Lingjue Peak but return empty-handed, which puzzled him even more.

But as time passed, Wang Chongyu’s doubts grew stronger, and he finally decided to go to the peak himself.

To his shock, he found the two at the edge of Lingjue Peak, with Ling Qingzi pressing Bai Fanlu down, an ice spike formed into a blade aimed at his chest.

“Senior brother!” Wang Chongyu exclaimed, about to rush forward.

“…” Bai Fanlu struggled to turn his face, his expression filled with pain, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t make a sound.

Wang Chongyu froze. The person wearing Bai Fanlu’s clothes had a face that was not the one he was familiar with.

“Chongyu…” Bai Fanlu finally managed to speak, “Don’t come over… Master, he…”

Wang Chongyu suddenly realized that it was indeed Bai Fanlu!

Noticing that Bai Fanlu could still speak, Ling Qingzi tightened his grip on his throat. Bai Fanlu, struggling to breathe, couldn’t say another word.

But Wang Chongyu could see it in his eyes—Bai Fanlu was warning him that Ling Qingzi was very dangerous and that he shouldn’t act impulsively.

Ling Qingzi seemed oblivious to Wang Chongyu’s presence, or perhaps he simply didn’t care. His focus remained solely on the red mark on Bai Fanlu’s chest, where the ice spike had pierced.

In his pale eyes, it was as if two drops of blood had fallen, growing larger as the red stain spread across Bai Fanlu’s clothes.

Possess him.

If he couldn’t have him, he would destroy him.

Destroy him…

A voice echoed in his mind, urging him. Ling Qingzi tightened his grip on the ice spike, pressing it down further. Bai Fanlu could feel his skin being cut, but he still lacked the strength to fight back. The hand choking him was strangely draining his power.

Just as he was about to attempt a counterattack, a sudden surge of sword energy swept in.

Bai Fanlu was startled—Chongyu…!

Ling Qingzi seemed to finally become aware of someone else’s presence. With a slight turn of his elbow, he easily deflected the sword.

But Bai Fanlu seized the moment when Ling Qingzi’s grip loosened slightly, rolling to the side and narrowly avoiding the cliff’s edge.

Ling Qingzi watched him and stood up as well, “…”

The move had been incredibly dangerous, with a few loose stones tumbling off the edge of Lingjue Peak. The clouds below shifted, but no sound of them hitting the ground could be heard.

Bai Fanlu quietly circulated his energy and found that, as expected, once he was further away from Ling Qingzi, the suppression eased, and his strength began to return.

Wang Chongyu had already stepped in front of him.

“Senior brother, what is going on here?”

But before Bai Fanlu could even reply, Ling Qingzi coldly said, “Move aside.”

The ice spike in his hand extended, transforming from a dagger into a sword.

Ling Qingzi’s gaze was locked on Bai Fanlu, but the cold, unfamiliar look in his eyes shocked Wang Chongyu. The scene he had just witnessed was no accident—Ling Qingzi really intended to kill Bai Fanlu.

“Master! This is Senior Brother—you’ll regret this!”

“I’ll say it again—move aside.”

Ling Qingzi raised his sword, pointing it directly at Wang Chongyu.

But Wang Chongyu shook his head, refusing to budge. “Master, you’ve protected him for hundreds of years. Was it all for this moment, to stab him with that sword? I can’t watch you do this—I can’t let you do something you’ll regret!”

Ling Qingzi slowly approached, his right hand pointing the sword while his left hand clenched into a fist within his sleeve.

Wang Chongyu’s words inexplicably irritated him, tightening something in his chest. The more it hurt, the more he wanted to be near Bai Fanlu. The more it hurt, the more he wanted to destroy him.

“If I don’t kill him, I’ll never be free.”

Ling Qingzi’s tone was calm, but there was a faint fire burning in his icy gaze.

Wang Chongyu sensed something was wrong, as if Ling Qingzi had been bewitched. His calm demeanor only made the situation more terrifying.

“Master, have you forgotten? When you accepted me as your disciple, your only request was that no matter what happened in the future, I must protect my senior brother, even if the one hurting him was you.”

Bai Fanlu, regaining his strength, was startled to hear this and looked up at Wang Chongyu’s back in surprise.

Ling Qingzi’s clenched fist suddenly relaxed, pressing against his chest as the pain became unbearable. Wang Chongyu’s words echoed in his ears like a curse.

“Nonsense!” he snapped in anger.

But Wang Chongyu continued, “Master originally didn’t want to take on any more disciples—he only wanted the two of us. But then you heard Senior Brother say that he liked spending time with me and enjoyed taking care of his junior brother, so you decided to take on more disciples.”

“…” Bai Fanlu had completely forgotten that he had ever said such a thing, and yet…

Wang Chongyu bitterly added, “Even when you found out that Senior Brother liked Yun Zhan, you quietly supported him. As long as he was happy, you were content. You cared about him so much—was it all just for—”

His words abruptly cut off.

“Chongyu!”

Bai Fanlu cried out in pain, lunging forward.

But Ling Qingzi’s sword struck like a shadow, mercilessly piercing Wang Chongyu’s chest.