The small courtyard was quiet, the eastern flowerbed bursting with blooms, exuding a fragrance that hung heavy in the air.

His father should have been tending these flowers by now, but there was no sign of him.

Feeling a strange prickle of unease, he called out, "Is anyone home?" "Little Uncle!" Zhao Yiyi rushed out from the kitchen, her voice bright, her hands dusted with white flour, a smudge of which adorned her left cheek.

Zhao Yiyi approached, lightly tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and smiled. "The Li Jian household is hosting a banquet; Mother and Father both went to help." Li Muzhan smiled. "Is the Li Jian family celebrating a happy occasion?" "Yes, they are getting engaged tomorrow," Zhao Yiyi confirmed with a nod and a smile.

She wore a dress patterned with small blue sprigs, over which was tied a pristine white apron.

Coupled with her flawless face, her entire bearing was one of pure, elegant grace, made all the more captivating by the encroaching twilight.

Li Muzhan often sighed, clutching his wrist in frustration; his elder brother was truly blessed but unappreciative, failing to cherish such a stunning woman, engaging in arguments with her daily.

He forcibly shifted his gaze away from her, then asked, "So, they won't be back for dinner?" "That's right," Zhao Yiyi nodded softly, smiling. "Little Uncle, why don't you rest for a bit? I've rolled out the noodles, and they'll be ready soon." "Good," Li Muzhan replied with a nod and a smile, retreating to his own room.

He unbuckled his longsword, lifted it to his nose, and inhaled—a faint, lingering scent of blood seemed to remain.

He shook his head, a slight smile touching his lips, and laid the sword across the headboard of his bed.

He lay down fully clothed, resting his head on his arm, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The dusk deepened.

Outside, the occasional bark of a dog carried on the air, punctuated by the calls of adults urging their children home, interspersed with the cheerful laughter of children.

The room remained unlit.

He lay in the darkness, his heart profoundly tranquil.

The events of the road seemed distant now, like a grand dream that was becoming increasingly unreal.

Reflecting on it, he found it rather peculiar: that he could calmly clean his sword and depart without the slightest sense of unease.

Was he truly cold-blooded? He immediately shook his head and smiled.

He possessed deep resolve, but was not cold-blooded.

In this current life, he had actually grown warmer in disposition.

This very calm stemmed from his past practice of Buddhist contemplation methods—the Impurity Contemplation and the White Bone Contemplation.

Though his skill hadn't reached mastery, he was already immune to the sight of the dead.

Furthermore, he understood what death entailed; it wasn't so terrifying, and he felt no guilt in taking a life—it was merely sending someone to another place.

He then considered that the Plum Blossom Twelve Swords technique had served him well this time.

It seemed swordplay was the essential foundation for survival, requiring vigorous practice until it became instinctual, allowing him to execute moves without thought, purely by reflex, as he had today.

He hadn't expected that practicing for an entire afternoon would yield such a remarkable effect.

Partly it was luck, but partly it was the deep relaxation that followed intense tension, which led to superior results.

Thus, he reasoned, his sword practice shouldn't be purely relentless drudgery; a balance of rigor and relaxation was key.

He thought in the darkness, each notion forming clearly, like a string of pearls.

Outside, the voice of his sister-in-law, Zhao Yiyi, drifted in: "Little Uncle, the food is ready! Come eat." "Coming," Li Muzhan called back, reaching for the sword on the bedside, rising, and walking toward the door.

As he pushed the door open, the sword was already secured at his waist.

From this moment on, the sword would never leave his person.

He sensed, indistinctly, the dawning realization of stepping onto the perilous path of the Jianghu.

Stepping out, he saw Zhao Yiyi carrying two dishes, her slender waist swaying as she entered.

Her steps were light and silent, her posture graceful.

Li Muzhan’s heart gave a slight lurch, which he swiftly suppressed, smiling faintly. "What has sister-in-law prepared?" Zhao Yiyi set down the dishes, untying her apron. "Everything you like: a plate of braised beef, a plate of sliced fish, and two small vegetable sides." "Excellent, thank you, sister-in-law," Li Muzhan replied warmly.

This sliced fish dish was not easy to prepare; it required meticulous care and patience.

His mother always complained about the trouble it caused.

It was clear his sister-in-law had exerted herself. "Has Elder Brother not returned these past few days?" Li Muzhan asked casually as they sat opposite each other.

Two oil lamps cast a soft, bright light within the room, illuminating Zhao Yiyi's cheeks with a delicate, flushed glow that made her look ready to bloom.

As she was handing Li Muzhan his chopsticks, her movement paused upon hearing the question.

Her delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly, and she nodded. "No, he said he’s been busy lately and will return in a few days." "Indeed, Elder Brother is busy.

I haven't seen him at the manor either," Li Muzhan noted. "Mm," Zhao Yiyi lowered her head and fell silent.

The room settled into a sudden quiet.

Li Muzhan sighed inwardly; his attempts at mediation had clearly failed, and the couple was still locked in conflict.

This was hardly a good thing.

People always said a couple resolves arguments in bed, but these two were locked in a cold war.

Elder Brother, with his masculine pride, wouldn't yield first, and sister-in-law was equally temperamental.

They were locked in this stalemate, neither giving way, perhaps for two months now.

Li Muzhan sighed inwardly again.

They hadn't known a single day of sweet harmony since marrying; they had existed in a constant state of cold war.

It was truly worrying. "Has sister-in-law visited the Plum Estate?" Li Muzhan asked casually while picking at a dish, pretending not to notice her expression.

Zhao Yiyi shook her head without looking up. "No." Li Muzhan said, "Then perhaps I can take you to see it tomorrow...

The Plum Estate is beautiful, with a large central lake and truly stunning scenery." "...No need," Zhao Yiyi hesitated, then shook her head.

Li Muzhan looked at her, then sighed. "...Very well." He decided to drop the matter.

If his sister-in-law went, knowing his brother's temperament, he might become enraged and lash out on the spot, making matters worse.

Seeing that Zhao Yiyi was still in low spirits, he began telling a joke, then shared some amusing anecdotes from the Heavenly Pivot Court.

Before long, he had coaxed a genuine, chiming laugh from her.

It was near midnight when Li Zhuzi and Qin Shi finally returned.

Li Zhuzi reeked of alcohol and had become garrulous, his face split in a broad, beaming smile—he seemed like an entirely different person.

He was usually stern, solemn, and taciturn.

When he smiled this widely, the family knew he was drunk.

Once drunk, his floodgates opened.

Normally, Qin Shi could keep him in check, but after drinking, the heavens were above him and he was second; even Qin Shi’s words lost their effect, and she could only let him ramble.

His rambling was the same old tune.

He pulled Li Muzhan close, constantly berating himself, beating his chest and stamping his feet, lamenting the family's poverty long ago.

He regretted yielding to the old monk Faxing, allowing his third son to become a monk, saying, "Otherwise, Third Son, you'd be married by now." His original plan was that it didn't matter if the third son became a monk temporarily; once he reached the age for marriage, he would revert to secular life, marry, and experience life and death.

But he hadn't expected the Emperor to issue a sudden Edict on Prohibiting Secular Return last year, forbidding monastics from renouncing their vows! Qin Shi shook her head beside him, Zhao Yiyi poured tea and water, biting her lip and remaining silent.

Li Muzhan obediently listened to Li Zhuzi’s complaints, offering a wry smile again and again.

After a long, tedious while, Li Zhuzi finally tired himself out.

Li Muzhan quickly helped him back to his room and tucked him in.

Only then did the rest of the family breathe a sigh of relief. "Your father saw that Little Jian is getting married, and it weighed heavily on him.

He got drunk after drinking very little," Qin Shi sighed. "The fact that you cannot yet return to secular life has become his greatest worry." Li Muzhan offered a bitter smile. "I am fine as I am; I have no desire for a woman.

Father really..." "How can you not want a woman!" Qin Shi refuted, shaking her head. "A man must have women; otherwise, hasn't he lived this life in vain?" Li Muzhan smiled faintly, shook his head, and said no more.

He had been married and divorced in his previous life; he didn't possess the same desperate yearning for marriage and children, only a faint, lingering sense of regret. "Mother, I will spend the night at the temple tonight." "Alright, go then, but come back for breakfast!" Qin Shi agreed, calling out, "Yiyi, prepare some dry rations for Third Son to take!" "Yes," Zhao Yiyi answered from the kitchen.

Qin Shi instructed, "Eat something if you get hungry in the middle of the night.

You are still growing! You can't attempt that Bigu cultivation again, going without food for several days!" "Understood, Mother, don't worry!" Li Muzhan nodded.

Zhao Yiyi, her slender waist swaying like a willow branch, emerged from the kitchen carrying a bundle containing a square box, which she handed to Li Muzhan.

Li Muzhan took it, waved to the two women, left the house, ascended Mount Ai, and headed straight for the valley behind the temple.

The moonlight was like flowing water.

His eyes were sharp, allowing him to see everything clearly.

He soon arrived by the hot spring and began practicing his sword forms.

After practicing for a while, he glanced at the moon—it was approaching the Zi hour (midnight).

He sat cross-legged on a large, flat stone and entered meditative stillness, cultivating the Viewing the Heavens and Reflecting the Spirits Scripture.

He entered the trance instantly, losing all sense of time.

Before his eyes appeared a expanse of clear lake water, upon which floated a pristine lotus, appearing sculpted from white jade, imbued with an inner radiance that flowed like liquid light.