The Guarding Promise Immortal Venerable Chu Fusheng of Liao Yuan Court harbored a secret.
He was actually a Huangpi Immortal.
Not a weasel spirit, but a huangpi—a fruit with a pungent-sour flavor, slightly warming, that promoted qi circulation and aided digestion. In short, a type of fruit.
For the lofty Guarding Promise Immortal Venerable of Liao Yuan Court to have the true form of a mere fruit? Who would believe such a thing? At least their Immortal Leader Lu Ziyuan was half a noble, elegant deer spirit. Jiang Linyuan might be an insect, but he hailed from the gorgeous Butterfly Clan.
Only he wasn’t even an animal!
It was downright embarrassing.
Because of this, the Chu family of Huangpi Immortals had always kept a low profile for thousands of years. Later, when his mother married a mortal, she feared her son might suffer bullying from other spirits due to his heritage. She dyed his striking golden hair black, cast a spell to alter his eye color, and only then dared send him to study at Xiao Xue Tower’s immortal academy.
For years afterward, Chu Fusheng studied diligently and even shared a classroom with his current colleague Jiang Chen for a few years.
But their seats had been far apart back then, so they weren’t close.
Thus, Chu Fusheng’s impression of Jiang Chen remained vague: the guy had a reclusive personality, and there always seemed to be some playboy second-generation immortal trailing after him like a shadow?
Later on, the Human Emperor opened wide trade routes, drawing merchants from every nation to Da Xia.
As everyone grew accustomed to seeing foreign races, Chu Fusheng’s golden hair and green eyes no longer stood out as strange. Only then did he finally restore his true appearance.
Yet no one ever learned he was a Huangpi Immortal.
People always assumed that with his striking looks and powerful immortal arts, he must be some rare golden-feathered phoenix bird Demon Immortal or the like.
Likewise, perhaps due to his drastic change in appearance, Jiang Chen still hadn’t recognized his old classmate even now.
…
When the two groups converged, Lu Ziyuan busied herself with exchanging greetings among the immortals.
Before leaving, she cast a glance his way, and Chu Fusheng immediately understood— the Immortal Leader wanted him to keep an eye on the unreliable Jiang Chen, to ensure he didn’t lose decorum after drinking.
Chu Fusheng sprang into dutiful action at once, only to find Jiang Chen thoroughly distracted.
“Jiang Immortal Venerable, are you looking for someone?”
As he spoke, he followed Jiang Chen’s gaze across to Fu Xi Palace once more. There stood a man in jade-colored robes of exceptional bearing, instantly capturing his attention.
“Ah~”
He had seen most of Fu Xi Palace’s rising stars.
But the famously renowned Li Xuan Immortal Lord hadn’t set foot in the Mortal Realm for decades past. Chu Fusheng had always been curious about what he might be like.
Now, he finally beheld the real Li Xuan Immortal Lord!
His reputation was well-deserved: ethereal aura, peerless grace. His features were boldly striking—bold ink strokes—yet his brows held no sharpness or menace. Instead, they brimmed with refined modesty.
His smile was warm and gentle, instantly revealing a kind nature.
Fu Xi Palace’s Zhao Clan was a prestigious immortal house, said to possess mountains of treasures, vast fields, and piles of magical artifacts. For the Immortal Lord, a direct heir of such wealth, to remain uncorrupted by riches and poised in restraint spoke volumes of his fine upbringing.
Handsome, refined, immensely wealthy—it was no wonder he was the Immortal Realm’s “one glance to ruin a lifetime,” the dream of every maiden’s boudoir.
Thoughts racing, Chu Fusheng elbowed Jiang Chen casually. “Hey.”
“Jiang Immortal Venerable, look—that must be the legendary Li Xuan Immortal Lord, ‘beloved by all, making flowers bloom wherever he goes.’ Seeing is believing!”
Who could have guessed?
The instant he uttered “Li Xuan Immortal Lord,” Jiang Chen’s expression shifted abruptly.
Chu Fusheng was baffled.
Across the way, Li Xuan Immortal Lord tilted his head slightly, murmuring to the Rumu Immortal Lord beside him. His gaze remained softly lowered, his smile faint and natural—no anomaly whatsoever.
But when his eyes flicked back to the Sword-Wielding Immortal Lord at Chu Fusheng’s side, they darkened with gloom, his thin lips pressed tight, gaze profoundly shadowed.
What… what was this?
Why did Jiang Immortal Lord wear such an expression?
Could it be that he harbored some grudge against Li Xuan Immortal Lord?
Had they even met? Hadn’t Li Xuan Immortal Lord never visited the Mortal Realm?
Wait.
Hold on—was it his imagination?
Looking closer, this Li Xuan Immortal Lord seemed… faintly familiar, in a way that teased at the edges of memory.
…
Chu Fusheng looked.
Chu Fusheng peered closely.
Chu Fusheng stared intently.
No way—this Immortal Lord’s face… didn’t it somewhat resemble that rich second-generation slacker from Xiao Xue Tower days, the one who slouched around shamelessly glued to Jiang Linyuan’s side all day?
Impossible.
Could it really be him? Was that why Jiang Chen looked like he’d seen a ghost?
But if it truly was him, Chu Fusheng had to silently marvel at human malleability—
As the ancients said: “One must look at a man with new eyes after a three-day separation.”
The ancients spoke true! Who could imagine that after twenty years apart, someone’s aura could transform like clouds and mud?
No wonder even Jiang Chen hadn’t recognized him at first glance—the change was earth-shattering, enough to confuse anyone.
Even his posture was utterly different!
Chu Fusheng clearly remembered: back then, that rich heir was notorious for his sloppy stance, clinging to Jiang Chen like a boneless plaster.
Yet the Li Xuan Immortal Lord before him stood tall and straight like a pine after snow.
A breeze of immortal wind stirred, tousling a few strands of his hair. With elegant poise, his long fingers rose casually, tucking the locks behind his ear. He remained focused on listening, smile gentle, dignified yet humbly gracious.
Not a trace of similarity to the frivolous grin of twenty years ago!
…
By rights, with Immortal Lords from two realms meeting, Zhao Lixuan shouldn’t have chatted privately with a colleague.
But today, he was genuinely worried about Rumu Shixiong.
Everyone in Fu Xi Palace knew that many of their Immortal Lords were immortal orphans the late Palace Lord Zhao Lanze had picked up during his travels. Yu Rumu was one of them.
Rumu Shixiong’s looks weren’t outstanding, and his temperament quieter than most. As years passed, amid his brilliant siblings, his talent proved average, so he turned to the medical arts early on.
With tireless study and practice, he gradually achieved modest mastery in pill refinement and healing.
From then on, Yu Rumu became that warm, reliable junior brother—always brewing medicines and soups for his fellows, indispensable yet unflashy in the sect.
Later, as the immortal-demon conflict escalated, Fu Xi Palace disciples were ordered to the lower realms to aid the war.
Yu Rumu stayed behind to guard the palace but, during an outing to gather herbs, found a gravely wounded, barely breathing girl.
The girl was named A’Tu, a Human Immortal whose entire clan had supposedly been slaughtered by lower-realm Demon Immortals amid the chaos. She alone had fled back to the Immortal Realm, helpless and alone.
Yu Rumu discovered her huddled in a trembling ball in the corner of a ruined Sacrificial Tower, her wide eyes brimming with terror and despair.
Full of pity, he brought her back to Fu Xi Palace.
Her injuries were dire, compounded by a strange affliction. Yu Rumu pored sleeplessly over ancient texts, mixing potions and tending her with utmost care.
During that time, Zhao Lixuan, stationed in the Mortal Realm, often received letters from his junior brother.
Besides warnings of the Mortal Realm’s dangers and pleas to return home soon, the letters revolved almost entirely around that “A’Tu.”
Gradually, the affection spilling from every line made it clear to Zhao Lixuan—even from thousands of miles away—what Rumu Shixiong felt.
Fate had a funny way.
Around the same period, Zhao Lixuan was pursuing Jiang Chen.
Yu Rumu wrote of sleepless nights agonizing over A’Tu’s wounds.
Coincidentally, Zhao Lixuan racked his brains over Jiang Chen’s chill syndrome.
Yu Rumu mentioned A’Tu’s picky eating—no fish or shrimp, no scallions, ginger, or garlic; she craved sweets and perfectly cooked lamb.
Coincidentally, Jiang Chen was just as finicky—no sweets, no fish; equally demanding.
A’Tu hated noise, loathed early mornings, complained of fatigue on long trips, and grew spoiled under Yu Rumu’s indulgence, sulking at the slightest upset.
What a coincidence! Too perfect!
Turns out, the world’s beloveds were all equally hard to please.
Zhao Lixuan finally felt balanced—at least even someone as skilled in cooking, medicine, and gentle kindness as Rumu Shixiong couldn’t coax smiles from Miss A’Tu.
A klutz like him, who either scorched the pot bottom or botched the seasoning, naturally got no better treatment!
Sigh, if one had to say…
This was probably the fated hurdle for Fu Xi Palace’s Immortal Lords—to fall for troublesome sweethearts who had them wrapped around their fingers.
And it wasn’t just him and Yu Rumu!
Even their upright, paragon big brother got toyed with by his perpetually sour-faced beloved.
A Fu Xi Palace tradition: generation after generation of lovestruck fools!
…
No one could have foreseen that A’Tu’s tragic backstory and frail facade were an elaborate hoax.
Her true name was Tu Ji—not a Human Immortal, but a Demon Clan general who infiltrated the Immortal Realm from the Misty Crevice Abyss amid the Three Realms’ turmoil and unstable seals.
The Demon Clan’s incursion had a clear target: exploit immortal-demon enmity to sabotage the Four Symbols Demon-Suppressing Tower upholding the Immortal Realm’s fortune, hastening the Sealing Demon Great Seal’s erosion.
Having earned Yu Rumu’s trust and protection, Tu Ji exploited it fully.
Not only did his shelter let her hide safely in the Immortal Realm, but as their bond deepened, she step by step extracted the means to enter the sacred tower.
…
By the time the plot unraveled, it was too late.
The Four Symbols Sacrificial Tower’s spiritual light extinguished; the Sealing Demon Great Seal crumbled faster. In the end, Palace Lord Zhao Lanze had no choice but to sacrifice himself, barely averting catastrophe for the Three Realms.
Zhao Lixuan never saw his brother one last time, receiving only a final letter penned for him.
It said he volunteered the sacrifice for the greater good and urged his young brother not to grieve.
It also said Yu Rumu was a treasured disciple he’d raised himself. His misplaced sincerity was pitiable; Zhao Lixuan should protect him henceforth, shielding him from others’ bullying.
…
Zhao Lixuan had always been spoiled and willful growing up.
For his first twenty years, his brother sheltered him like a towering tree against wind and rain. No matter the trouble he caused, his brother shouldered it.
Only after his brother’s departure did he mature overnight.
For the first time, he truly heeded his brother’s words—vowing to protect everyone in Fu Xi Palace and safeguard the Three Realms’ peace bought with his brother’s life.
The dead faded like extinguished lamps.
But the living weren’t guaranteed peace either.
No one blamed Yu Rumu. Yet he exiled himself, wandering for years in a mad search for the long-lost Soul-Binding Revival Technique.
All in vain, of course.
Eventually, Yu Rumu returned to Fu Xi Palace.
Still the same mild-mannered good fellow, brewing medicines and tending wounds daily, bustling about for everyone.
But he had changed.
Ten years ago, during the Demon Hunting Moon Hunt, Zhao Lixuan hadn’t gone. But returning sectmates recounted how Rumu Immortal Lord fought desperately with life-risking moves on the battlefield… as if awaiting a dire moment to emulate the Palace Lord’s self-sacrifice.
Heaven denied him that chance.
In the days that followed, Rumu Immortal Lord carried on as usual, even joking lightly.
Only occasionally would his gaze turn vacant, lost in a daze as he hid in corners. At worst, his body would stiffen rigid, unable to move.
Ancient texts described it as a rare Heart Demon Disorder among the Immortal Clan. History knew a few Immortal Lords who, crushed by prolonged grief and self-blame, ultimately self-destructed their immortal essence.
Lately, Yu Rumu’s episodes grew more frequent, worrying Zhao Lixuan.
Thus, he often stayed by Yu Rumu’s side.
Today was no different.
Seeing his shixiong’s weary pallor—not his usual self—Zhao Lixuan bantered and joked along the way, trying to lift his spirits.
But before he could cheer him up fully, Xia Yunjie called Yu Rumu by name to represent Fu Xi Palace in forging the Mutual Trust Seal for this Demon Hunting Moon Hunt.
“You stay here. I’ll go!“
Forging the seal wasn’t difficult but drained the mind. For one with unresolved heart demons and deep obsessions, it was perilous—more likely to trigger demons than cultivating profound arts.
With Yu Rumu in poor condition today, Zhao Lixuan naturally wouldn’t let him take the risk!
With a quick spell, he froze Yu Rumu in place, straightened his robes, and strode forward calmly.
From Liao Yuan Court’s side, Guarding Promise Immortal Venerable Chu Fusheng moved to step out as well.
But suddenly, a streak of inky sword light slashed across—
A longsword wreathed in dark flames barred the path. The black-clad man, reeking faintly of wine, lowered his gaze with a cold, hard profile:
“I’ll go.”
