The Alchemy Cloud Pavilion stood beneath a jade-flecked cliff, its eaves crusted with morning frost and mist like drifting incense curling around stone pillars carved with rare pills.
As Zhao Fan and Maid Yi stepped past the outer wards, disciples knelt in silence, lips sealed in pale fear or reverence.
None dared speak his name aloud, but they all recognized the Young Master of the Zhao family and the sect’s holy guest.
Each gaze was a trembling brushstroke on the scroll of fate.
The outer courtyard, once filled with the scent of brewing elixirs and disciple chatter, now sat heavy with unnaturally quiet space.
Within the third floor,
Elder Wang sat poised behind a lacquered tea table.
He had changed into his formal robes, white with green hems, the symbol of the Pavilion stitched in golden thread across his chest, though the emblem looked almost ashamed to cling to him today.
His sleeves trembled slightly as he poured the tea: three cups.
The first was clear as glass, from a jade kettle that shimmered with aged condensation.
The second was slightly pale, a layer of golden qi mist atop it.
The third was murky, dark as burned incense, thick with medicinal bitterness.
Zhao Fan sat across from him, robes untouched by dust, unaffected by wind.
Yi Xin Yue stood just behind, her presence unnoticed yet overwhelming, one hand faintly glowing as she monitored the qi fluctuations in the air.
There was no ambush yet, but she could feel the presence of many powerhouses just next room.
And she was aware if she could sense them, Young Master could too.
Mu Shiyue, from Misty Lake Peak, gracefully entered the room.
"Ahem* Ahem* Young Master Zhao, she is my guest, that I have invited to meet you," The Elder spoke with a voice like a refined tea, calm and smooth.
She stood like moonlight draped in obsidian silk, like a celestial empress descended from the Nine Heavens.
Her hair, as pale as the first snow atop the Immortal Peak, flowed like silver mist over a waterfall, adorned with golden ornaments that chimed like phoenix bells in a quiet spring breeze. Her smile was a lotus blooming at dawn, gentle, enigmatic, untouched by worldly dust.
Her eyes held the autumn lake’s stillness, framed by lashes darker than raven feathers under night rain.
The curve of her cheeks was smooth as carved jade, her skin glistening like morning dew on a dragonfruit blossom; flawless, ageless, cool to the eye yet tempting the flame of touch.
Her twin peaks, full and proud, strained against her high-collared gown like ripe snow peaches hidden beneath embroidered moonlight, each breath she took a storm threatening calm.
Her waist, a willow’s whisper in the wind, led down to wide child-bearing hips sculpted by divine hands lush, commanding, pure seduction. Twin legs, long and graceful, extended like white cranes.
White cranes sometimes move in the opposite direction for the cultural ceremony that is too sacred for sinful ears.
And just by standing there, the sweet feminine scent spread across the room, it’s cold and seductive, as expected from someone cultivating the Dao of Ice.
"Greetings Young Master, it’s my honor to meet you that my nine generations of ancestors cultivated in the lifetime,"
She said politely, bowing her head like a snow-laden plum branch arching beneath heaven’s weight, soft, pure, yet unbending beneath the season’s trials.
Her words flowed like chilled nectar down the slope of time, each syllable soaked in cultured restraint and veiled reverence.
Yet behind the poetic decorum lingered something unspoken sinful temptation and seduction.
Aside from the milk bud, her entire large chest peak was at his mercy, and her bowing made it even more seductive, like an empty vessel watching a warm touch.
Zhao Fan did not rise, nor did he return the bow.
His gaze moved to her with the weight of collapsing dynasties.
"Quite a seductive mannerism, the Matriarch of Misty Lake peak possesses, This Zhao fears such behavior seems farfetched for a married woman... Is Grace perhaps yearning to set a green hat atop your husband,"
Mu Shiyue’s smile did not falter, though the jade mist in her gaze flickered, just once, like ripples across a frozen lake touched by a heron’s foot.
Her bow remained, deep and respectful, but her voice, when it emerged, bore the chill of distant glaciers breaking under moonlight.
"This Mu is indeed married, Young Master Zhao, though marriage binds the body, not the spirit. And the spirit of this Matriarch kneels to no man beneath heaven, aside Young Master, the one worthy of kneeling for... Alas, My father was quite a rash man tying me to such a useless husband, if I could, I wouldn’t mind being the bed-warming maid for Young Master,"
She straightened, not rushed, her posture flowing like mountain water seeking its path, neither aggressive nor retreating, simply inevitable.
She had worn a tight-fitting gown like Qi Pao, highlighting her curves, a seductive stockings made from cocoon slik of Love gu, adding more to her charm.
Her phoenix ornaments gave a low, crystalline chime as her hair caught the morning light, each strand from the Ice Lotus Scriptures.
"The Misty Lake Peak does not teach its women to be mere shadows," She continued, voice as calm as winter rain upon empty tiles.
Behind Zhao Fan, Yi Xin Yue’s lips curved, barely perceptible, but her qi stirred as if her phoenix tattoo had bristled in quiet defiance, sensing rivalry.
Vixen! A sinister vixen trying to seduce the Young Master.
She released her sense, the Yin member was long gone and the womb seemed to have given birth.
What a shameless vixen, despite having a kid, reducing other men.
Nonetheless, she didn’t make a move yet, and waited for Young Master to deal with her.
"This Mu has brought a gift for a young master that I believe would be interesting, saying that, he took out the Soul-talisman and a Recording jade from within the space between her breasts," She quietly placed the item in the flourished white marble table, in-between Elder Wang and Young Master Zhao.
"You traitorous bed-warming furnace..." Elder Wang roared, his Qi flaring like a wildfire.
This woman... How dare she hand over the cultivation-suppressing Soul talisman.
Outrageous.... Simply outrageous.
He had thought a beautiful women would have easier chance to place this talisman on Zhao Fan’s forehead, with a simple seduction but he couldn’t be more wrong.
They have been betrayed by Misty Peak.
( check author thoughts )