The morning sun had barely begun its ascent over the jade peaks of Mount Tianlan when sharp, rhythmic knocking shattered the tranquil silence of Chen Xinyu's chambers like stones dropped into still water.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Chen Gongzi," came a voice as steady and cold as winter wind through pine branches. "His Highness wishes to see you."
Xinyu's eyes flew open like startled butterflies, his peaceful dreams dissolving into harsh reality. That voice—crisp, formal, utterly devoid of warmth—definitely did not belong to his master. Recognition struck him like lightning: Qingze, the shadow guard who followed the demon prince like a second soul, silent and ever-watchful.
Panic surged through his veins as he launched himself from his bed in a tangle of silk blankets and morning confusion. His hair resembled a bird's nest after a storm, his sleeping robes hung half-open, and he hadn't even had time to rinse the taste of sleep from his mouth.
"I—just one moment!" he called out frantically, his voice cracking with mortification as he stumbled toward his washing basin.
He plunged his face into the cold water with desperate urgency, gasping at the shock. His reflection in the bronze mirror revealed a disaster of epic proportions—hair sticking up at impossible angles, eyes still puffy with sleep, and a complexion that spoke of someone who had just received news of his own execution.
Wrestling with his outer robes proved to be another battle entirely. In his haste, he managed to put them on backwards twice before finally achieving something resembling respectability, though his collar remained stubbornly uneven and his hair tie hung at a precarious angle.
Outside, Qingze stood with the patience of mountain stone, hands clasped behind his back, expression as readable as ancient scripture. When the door finally slid open with a soft whisper of wood against wood, Chen Xinyu emerged looking like a startled cat that had been caught in a thunderstorm.
"Gongzi," Qingze offered a precise bow, his movements as fluid as water yet sharp as blade work.
Xinyu blinked against the golden morning light, hastily returning the gesture with considerably less grace. "Ah, please don't be so formal! Just call me Xinyu. Or... well, Maid Xinyu works too, considering my new position." He attempted a laugh that came out slightly strangled.
Qingze's expression remained as unchanging as carved jade. "I cannot."
"Right. Of course." Xinyu muttered, resignation settling over him like morning mist. "Whatever you're comfortable with."
They walked through paths lined with ancient pine trees, their needles whispering secrets in the mountain breeze. The demon prince's residence loomed ahead—an architectural marvel that seemed to have been crafted by celestial artisans. Every surface gleamed with meticulous care: jade floors polished to mirror brightness, silk curtains embroidered with patterns that seemed to shift in the light, and golden lotus fixtures that caught the dawn like captured sunfire.
Servants moved through the corridors with choreographed precision, their steps silent as falling snow, their presence felt but never intrusive. Xinyu tried not to gawk openly, but his eyes betrayed him, darting from one magnificent detail to another.
"Does he truly need me with so many capable servants?" he whispered, more to himself than to his stoic companion.
Qingze offered no response, his silence as profound as deep water.
"Wonder what creative punishments he's devising for me," Xinyu added under his breath, his imagination conjuring increasingly elaborate scenarios.
When they reached the main chambers, Qingze turned with ceremonial gravity. "His Highness awaits within. From this day forward, you will remain at his side until his departure from these lands."
Xinyu managed a nervous grin and, in a moment of inexplicable boldness, reached out to pat Qingze's shoulder companionably. "Thanks, Qingze. At least you're the friendliest person in this whole situation."
Qingze stared at the hand resting on his shoulder with the bewildered expression of someone who had just witnessed a butterfly attempting to befriend a sword. Why is he treating me with such casual familiarity? .
The chamber doors opened with barely a whisper, revealing a room bathed in liquid gold from the streaming sunlight. There, seated at a low table carved from precious heartwood, was Prince Hua Ling—a vision that could inspire both poetry and terror.
He held an ancient text with the effortless grace of someone born to command, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. The morning light seemed to worship his pale skin, turning it luminous as pearl, while his long, aristocratic fingers moved across the pages with the fluid precision of a master calligrapher. His very presence transformed the mundane act of reading into something approaching divine art.
Xinyu stood in the doorway feeling decidedly mortal and awkward. "Your Highness... I'm here."
Without lifting his gaze from the page, Hua Ling offered a single, dismissive sound: "Mm."
Mm? What kind of response is 'mm'? Xinyu's thoughts spiraled into frustration. Am I supposed to sweep floors now? Polish his boots until I can see my own miserable reflection?
"I hear you're quite notorious for avoiding responsibilities and skipping cultivation practice," Hua Ling remarked, his tone carrying the casual cruelty of someone commenting on the weather.
Xinyu stiffened as if struck by lightning. Oh, wonderful. Now I have two masters to disappoint.
"Whoever shared such information must have been heavily intoxicated," he replied, forcing his voice into cheerful denial while his smile felt more like a grimace. "I'm extraordinarily diligent! In fact, I recite sword techniques in my sleep—it's a very advanced meditation method."
The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but desperation made liars of even the most honest souls.
Hua Ling's lips curved into the faintest suggestion of amusement, sharp as a blade's edge and twice as dangerous. He lifted his teacup—a piece of porcelain so fine it seemed to glow from within—and took a deliberate sip before speaking.
"Qingze will provide you with your daily responsibilities. After completing them, you may attend your regular lessons with your master."
Xinyu blinked in surprise. "That's... it?"
"You may withdraw now."
As Xinyu turned to leave, rebellion sparked in his chest. He found himself silently mimicking the prince's imperious tone behind his back: 'You may withdraw now.' The audacity! He clearly just wants to humiliate me!
In his irritation, he aimed a vindictive kick at a nearby water bucket—only to yelp in genuine pain as his foot connected with what felt like solid iron. "Ow! Damn it—"
"Gongzi?" Qingze materialized beside him with the uncanny timing of a guardian spirit.
Xinyu straightened instantly, his face burning with embarrassment. "Nothing at all! Just... practicing advanced footwork techniques!"
Qingze raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow—a gesture that somehow conveyed both skepticism and professional interest. "Your first assignment: launder His Highness's robes. I will provide the complete list of duties after you break your fast."
Perfect, Xinyu thought with grim resignation. I've officially become the royal laundry attendant. Someone please end my suffering.
---
Meanwhile, in the main administrative hall of Verdant Cloud Sect, morning light filtered through latticed windows as Sect Leader Jiang and Master Zhou sat across from each other, worry etched into the lines of their faces like characters carved in stone.
"Disturbing reports continue to arrive from the farming villages," Zhou said, his voice heavy with concern as he poured fragrant tea into delicate cups. "The farmers claim their crops refuse to grow, no matter how they tend the soil. Some blame cursed earth. Others whisper of restless spirits wandering the fields after nightfall."
Sect Leader Jiang accepted his tea with a weary sigh. "Such troubles were inevitable. After the war's devastation, when the Demon Lord consolidated resources, countless families lost their homes and livelihoods. Half the fertile lands were reduced to ash and barren earth."
"I propose we investigate these disturbances personally," Zhou said, his tone firm with resolve. "It would also provide valuable real-world experience for our disciples."
Jiang nodded thoughtfully. "A sound plan. Choose those you trust most. But proceed with discretion—we cannot afford to create panic."
---
Far from the sect's solemn halls, the bustling marketplace of Verdant Cloud City hummed with life and commerce. Lu Rourou wandered between colorful stalls like a butterfly sampling flowers, her sleeves fluttering in the warm breeze, while beside her walked Lan Xueyao—graceful as flowing water yet radiating an aura of dignified aloofness.
"Shijie, look! Aren't these hairpins absolutely exquisite?" Rourou gasped, her eyes sparkling as she admired a display of jade ornaments carved into phoenixes and lotus blossoms, each piece catching the light like captured rainbows.
Lan Xueyao glanced sideways with the enthusiasm of someone observing tax records. "Mm. Whatever."
Undeterred by her senior sister's lukewarm response, Rourou leaned toward the elderly stallkeeper with her most winning smile. "Honored sir, what price for this particular piece?"
The old man stroked his wispy beard with the air of someone conducting serious negotiations. "That beauty? Five silver taels."
Rourou's face fell like a wilting flower. "Aiya... I only have three." She turned to her senior sister with eyes that sparkled like morning dew. "Shijie, could you possibly help me? Please?"
Lan Xueyao had already begun walking toward a nearby teahouse, her pale robes flowing behind her like captured clouds, completely ignoring the plaintive call.
"Shijie!" Rourou sighed dramatically and scurried after her like a determined puppy.
Inside the teahouse, they settled at a table near the windows where afternoon light painted everything in warm gold. While waiting for their order, Rourou began systematically devouring a plate of sweet glutinous rice cakes with the focused intensity of a squirrel preparing for winter, her cheeks bulging comically.
The animated chatter from the table behind them gradually penetrated her sugar-induced bliss.
"Have you heard the news? The Demon Prince himself has arrived at Verdant Cloud Sect!"
"Indeed! They say his very arrival caused quite the commotion!"
Another voice joined the conspiracy: "My cousin's wife's brother claims the prince carries a curse—wherever he treads, misfortune follows like a loyal hound. Mark my words, he'll bring calamity to our city next!"
Rourou paused mid-chew, exchanging a meaningful glance with Lan Xueyao, who wore a faint smile of amusement.
"Shijie, why are you smirking like that?" Rourou mumbled through her mouthful of sweets.
"Keep talking with your mouth full and you'll choke," Lan Xueyao replied dryly, sipping her jasmine tea with elegant composure.
Their conversation was interrupted by more urgent whispers from the neighboring table.
"But have you heard about the eastern valley farmlands? They say something... unnatural haunts those fields."
A fourth man leaned in conspiratorially: "The soil refuses to nurture any crops. Several farmers have abandoned their ancestral lands entirely."
"Vengeful spirits," muttered an elderly patron, his voice trembling with superstitious dread. "They say one farmer vanished completely just three nights past."
The speaker gestured dramatically for his companions to lean closer, creating a tight circle of hushed anticipation.
"The farm ghost claimed him!"
His sudden loud declaration startled the entire table, causing one patron to nearly drop his precious teacup in shock.
Rourou's eyes widened with curiosity. "A farm ghost?"
Lan Xueyao rose with fluid grace, already moving toward the door. "We're leaving."
"Eh? Already?" Rourou was still actively chewing. "But the honey pastries aren't even—"
"We must report this to Master immediately," Lan Xueyao said, her tone brooking no argument as she glided away.
With a disappointed pout, Rourou crammed one final sweet into her mouth, snatched two more from Lan Xueyao's untouched plate, and bounded after her senior sister like an energetic sparrow.
"Wait for me!"