Chapter 25: Scattering Light to Illuminate the Endless Night (Part 2)

As soon as one entered, they would pass through a long corridor adorned with scattered petals. The thin rain lingered on the tiles overhead for a long time before finally soaking the delicate blossoms below. After a few turns, the end of the corridor revealed a wooden pavilion draped on all four sides with white gauze to shield against the wind. Upon its plaque was inscribed “Bluewater Pavilion,” the script disciplined and clearly not from the same hand as the one outside, “Imperial Treasures Hall.”

Inside the Bluewater Pavilion sat a woman in plain attire, her figure slender and light. From a distance, she appeared with deep-set eyes and a high-bridged nose, a slender waist and long legs, her skin especially pale—her features not quite those of a Central Plains native. Yet her lips were drained of color, and her brows were soft and weary, like someone long afflicted by illness.

Yet, on such a rainy, chilly day, with water pooling and dampness in the air, this frail young woman wore only a skirt, her bare arms exposed. The phrase “snowy wrists glimmer like frost” could have been coined for her.

Little Yue’er blocked Ma Yuan’s way, lifted the white gauze, and announced Gu Yi, not forgetting to remind, “The young lady has only just recovered from illness. Please, Master Gu, be gentle with her.”

What sort of request was that—to be gentle?

“Yue’er, you speak too much.” The woman in the pavilion rebuked her, her voice not soft, but rather cool and faint.

This woman might have some connection to Xiao Yiyi, Gu Yi thought.

Miss Ye was also scrutinizing him.

…

Outside the curtain, Ma Yuan was pulled away by Yue’er.

“Sir, forgive my boldness, but all of Luyang knows that the young lady’s phrase, ‘A single book from Tibet opens the hall,’ is her way of searching for her brother. Although Master Gu provided the next line, he doesn’t resemble my lady at all. Who is he, exactly? We’ve known each other a long time—you must tell me the truth.”

Who, exactly, was Gu Yi?

Ma Yuan pursed his lips. In all these years, this was the first time Yue’er had asked him for anything. A man, confronted with such a request, can hardly refuse, but unfortunately, he truly didn’t know the answer.

“Yue’er, that’s an excellent question,” he could only reply. “But if I say I don’t know, would you believe me?”

Yue’er met all sorts of people every day; had she not been so adept, she couldn’t have hosted so many distinguished guests.

Such an answer could hardly satisfy her. The girl pouted, seeming to know how to deal with Ma Yuan, “Sir, even if you must lie to me, at least give a convincing reason. You’ve always called him Master—did you really take him as your master without even knowing who he was?”

Ma Yuan scratched his head, trying to tug out a strand or two of hair to hide his embarrassment, and then realized, even more awkwardly, that he had no hair.

“But I truly don’t know Master’s origins.”

…

Inside the curtain.

“Back then, you weren’t this tall yet. Do you still remember me?” Miss Ye and Gu Yi’s eyes met. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she suddenly asked this question.

Gu Yi’s heart trembled. What was this situation? Was this truly a long-lost sibling reunion?

He swore, “Illuminating the long night of the mortal world with a single sweep” was not something from his memories, nor had he ever made such a poetic pact with anyone.

But Miss Ye seemed utterly sincere—her eyes glistened with tears.

Gu Yi thought, whether it was her illness or the charm on the plaque, both were matters that concerned him. If mistaken identity served a purpose, there was no harm in going along with it.

Most importantly, the fish was free.

So, following his instincts, he answered earnestly, “I don’t remember.”

“I thought so. You were very young then,” Miss Ye said, sniffling and wiping her eyes. “I was afraid you were too little to remember, so I wrote it on the Imperial Treasures Hall plaque. I knew if it was you, you’d understand.”

Hmm? What did she mean? Was the poem hidden in memory, or written on that charm for her brother to see?

---

Gu Yi’s mind shifted. “Is it only your brother who can understand it? Why must it be him?”

“Silly, if you can understand it, then I am your sister. We come from a family of charm-writers—the Ye family alone can decipher it.” Whether it was happiness or amusement at his denseness, Miss Ye smiled.

Only the Ye family could understand?

In a world where cultivation knows no bounds, her explanation, though eccentric, left no room for refutation. But for Gu Yi, if not for Xiao Yiyi’s teaching, he’d never have recognized it…

Perhaps this woman truly believed she’d found her brother.

But he didn’t think so.

Gu Yi replied honestly, “Miss, I won’t deceive you. I recognized that charm, not because of any bond between us, but because someone taught me.”

“No matter the reason, as long as you can read it, you are the one I seek.” As she spoke, she wielded energy with her fingertip, leaving graceful calligraphy suspended in the air. Ma Yuan said she was no cultivator, and indeed she wasn’t, yet she could perform spells just as Gu Yi could, and the Spirit-Harming Charm she wrote was identical to what he had learned!

“This Sanyuan Spirit-Harming Charm—you recognize it, don’t you?”

Gu Yi felt his mind buzzing. Xiao Yiyi had taught him this. How could this woman also know the Sanyuan Spirit-Harming Charm?

Seeing Gu Yi’s dazed expression, Miss Ye’s brow suddenly furrowed. “Don’t you recognize it?”

“No, I recognize it, of course.”

She looked deeply at him, her pale lips faintly moving, “Can you write the Sanyuan now? Show me.”

That was not difficult. Gu Yi stepped to the table and, with a flourish, produced a fine spirit-harming charm. Unlike the rough style of Xiao Yiyi, he took care to make his writing elegant.

For some reason, as soon as he finished, he sensed the young woman sigh inwardly with relief. A breeze swept through the pavilion, lifting a veil of white gauze and revealing a gentle, tender smile on her face.

“From now on, let me care for you.”

She cradled the charm in her hands, studying it with satisfaction.

“Miss, it seems your doubts are resolved,” Gu Yi said, rubbing his fingers thoughtfully. “But I have a matter I hope you will answer truthfully.”

“No need for such formality. I know you may not recognize me, but I will treat you as my brother. All of Luyang knows I wrote that poem at my door to seek my lost kin.”

“Let’s put that aside for now. The charm on the plaque outside—did you write it? Or did someone teach you? And why is it a broken charm?”

Miss Ye replied in puzzlement, “Of course I wrote it myself. But why do you call it a broken charm? What I wrote is not a broken charm, but a hidden poem charm.”

Gu Yi smiled. This was becoming more and more interesting. “Thank you for your answer. Also, your illness—may I take a look?”

She smiled, her gaze soft and indulgent, “Of course.”

She extended her hand, completely unguarded. Gu Yi was momentarily dazzled by her wrist, white as a lotus root, and had to avert his eyes, focusing on the matter at hand.

He still had no spiritual energy of his own, so he could only draw on the life energy around him, gathering it in his fingertips…

…

“Is Master Gu really the young lady’s brother?” Yue’er helped Miss Ye onto the bed, her gaze filled with concern for the sick woman.

But Miss Ye was in excellent spirits, unable to stop smiling—her joy as radiant as blossoming peach in spring, as pure as white lotus in summer. “Yes, that answer belongs to me alone: ‘Illuminating the long night of the mortal world with a single sweep.’”

---

“Then I must congratulate you, my lady. Your brother is no ordinary man—he must be truly remarkable.”

At the mention of “remarkable,” the woman on the bed could not help but reveal a shadow of melancholy. “I hope my guess is wrong. I didn’t dare ask just now, but…is he a Severed Practitioner?”

“A Severed Practitioner?!” Yue’er exclaimed in shock. “How…how can that be?”

“He must have suffered some great misfortune.” Miss Ye bit her lip. “He’s still wary of me, so I couldn’t ask. But his whole body is devoid of cultivation.”

This cruel fact, Yue’er could scarcely believe. In this world, cultivation is like life itself—there is no second chance.

What made Severance so feared was that it was always brought on by extreme circumstances, most often severe injury. The harm it did to the body was irreversible, making further cultivation impossible.

“No, how could my lady’s brother be a Severed Practitioner!”

“No matter what, I’ve finally found him. Even if he is…” The frail Miss Ye suddenly showed resolve. “He’s staying at Cloud Repose Inn. I’m still not well; tomorrow, find two people and bring him here to live at Imperial Treasures Hall.”

…

“Master, Master, are you really Miss Ye’s brother?” As soon as Gu Yi emerged from behind the curtain, Ma Yuan hurried over. Now everyone would know that Old Ma’s master was no ordinary man.

“Most likely not,” Gu Yi said, hands clasped behind his back.

“But you really spoke the second line of the poem!”

“I recognized it from the charm on the plaque. But there’s something odd about it.”

“What could be odd?”

The young man narrowed his eyes. “She says it’s a hidden poem charm, not a broken charm.”

Ma Yuan was confused. “And what of it?”

Gu Yi stopped walking, eyes narrowed, his tone calm. “But it is, without a doubt, a broken charm.”

…

“Ma Yuan’s come out, Ma Yuan’s come out!”

The bald man followed behind Gu Yi, refreshed and jubilant—probably the happiest he’d been since getting accepted into the Cultivation Academy.

Chen Mingguang had waited outside for some time. These two, master and disciple, were an oddity in his otherwise dull life. Though Gu Yi generally ignored him, he quickly approached from the side and said, “All of Luyang knows, whoever can answer that poem is Miss Ye’s kin. Master Gu, should we start calling you Master Ye? And if some people spoke rashly earlier, it was only in defense of Miss Ye.”

“Yes, yes, that poem’s been there for years. None of us expected anyone could answer it.”

“Master Gu, Ma Yuan, I am Wu Gang. Please forgive my earlier rudeness—this is my apology,” said the burly man with a full beard, forthright and sincere.

Gu Yi, seeing things amicably resolved, clasped his hands in salute. “Misunderstandings between men are as trivial as sesame and mung beans. What about you, Ma Yuan?”

“Same here!” Ma Yuan stretched his neck and shouted, too proud to admit otherwise.

“Hahaha!”

Chen Mingguang, hands tucked into his sleeves, said with a hearty laugh, “How about we all sit down for a drink?”

Ma Yuan: That’s a bit embarrassing! Haha! Master, come, come!