Chapter 57

After Xuan Yang left, Qixue immediately transformed back into Rabbit Tuan and hopped onto the table. He lay beside the teacup and used his little paws to squeeze out his rabbit milk.

He was just a tiny rabbit, only slightly larger than the teacup, yet his milk flowed abundantly. He squeezed out nearly half a cup, with some spilling onto the tabletop or staining his rabbit fur.

Finally drained, Rabbit Tuan lay exhausted on the table for a rest before transforming back into human form. He quickly wiped the table clean.

As for the rabbit milk in the cup, Qixue had no interest in drinking his own milk. Instead, he carried the teacup and poured it onto the roots of the tea tree. He drank the tea tree’s leaves, so it was only fair for the tea tree to drink his rabbit milk.

Qixue placed the washed teacup back in its spot. He had planned to take a short nap before Helan Ji came up the mountain, but the bed was saturated with Xuan Yang’s scent. Lying on it made him too shy to sleep, so he left Xuan Yang’s courtyard and decided to wander around the temple.

The Back Mountain was Xie Shu’s Dao Field, and though Qixue was curious, he had no intention of going there alone. While he was willing to shatter his body for his mission, he cherished his life when there was no need to risk it.

Qixue left Xuan Yang’s courtyard and strolled around the temple. He discovered that the entire Cloud Moon Temple was mainly divided into two parts: the front courtyard for receiving pilgrims, and the back courtyard for the disciples’ living and cultivation areas, separated by a small gate that pilgrims were generally forbidden from entering.

The god statues were placed in the main hall and side halls of the front courtyard. The back courtyard only had one Ancestral Master Hall for worship. After visiting the three divine halls, Qixue thought for a moment and then entered the Ancestral Master Hall.

The Ancestral Master Hall was serene and spacious, with dim lighting. Only seven eternal lamps were lit, placed on seven offering tables respectively.

Seven tall statues stood in the hall, depicting the successive Palace Lords of Cloud Moon Temple. The first six Palace Lords had all passed away, with memorial tablets on their offering tables. Only Xie Shu’s statue lacked one, as he was the only living Palace Lord.

On the left side of the hall stood an ancient bronze mirror, as tall as a person. Qixue stood before it and looked for a moment. Though he saw nothing special, he worried it might be a magical tool and didn’t dare touch it. He soon left the mirror’s vicinity.

Opposite the bronze mirror on the right side stood a weathered stone stele engraved with text. The inscriptions had faded from years of erosion, becoming somewhat blurry. Qixue carefully discerned the text and found it to be the history of Cloud Moon Temple.

Cloud Moon Temple was established over two hundred years ago as an obscure little Daoist temple. Its founding ancestor was a half-hearted Daoist who had been an ordinary farmer, forced into the robes by unbearable taxes.

The ancestral master had mediocre talent and even worse luck. A few years later, he died in the mouth of a demon during an exorcism.

Shortly before his death, he had taken his only disciple, the second-generation Palace Lord, who was similarly untalented. His greatest virtue was longevity; he lived nearly ninety years and haphazardly took on five or six disciples, barely maintaining Cloud Moon Temple’s lineage.

The third and fourth-generation Palace Lords were also unremarkable. Qixue wondered how Cloud Moon Temple became the world’s top Daoist temple until he found the reason with the fifth-generation Palace Lord.

The fifth-generation Palace Lord was the renowned Zheng Yuan Zhenren, a heaven-sent genius. Legends said he had subdued a heavenly demon from the darkest depths of Cave Abyss and once saved the life of a true dragon.

Grateful for the life-saving grace, the true dragon transformed into the guardian divine beast protecting Cloud Moon Temple. From then on, the temple’s destiny flourished, quickly becoming a world-famous sacred Daoist site.

Over a hundred years ago, Xie Shu entered the temple. His talent surpassed even the fifth-generation Palace Lord. After he became Palace Lord, Cloud Moon Temple rose to the world’s number one Daoist temple, with believers across the lands revering him as a god-like figure.

“Hmph…”

After reading the introduction, Qixue let out a light snort, sneering at Xie Shu.

It wasn’t that he doubted Xie Shu’s power, but he personally despised and loathed the man, maintaining a scornful attitude—just like his initial hatred for Ji Yuheng, getting annoyed at any praise for them.

Of course, if asked to go to the Back Mountain for a one-on-one with Xie Shu, Qixue wouldn’t dare. He’d run faster than anyone.

Having read the original story, he knew Xie Shu’s overwhelming strength. Currently, only the true body of the Cave Abyss God Spirit could contend with him. Even Xuan Yang against Xie Shu would be a fifty-fifty fight.

But Qixue’s other purpose in coming to Cloud Moon Temple was to scout Xie Shu’s intelligence for any exploitable weakness. Still, he wouldn’t act before giving birth; he had to prioritize the baby’s safety above all.

Qixue gently touched his belly and approached Xie Shu’s statue, looking up at its face.

With Cloud Moon Temple’s unending incense, it never lacked silver. The statues in the Ancestral Master Hall were all carved with exquisite detail and lifelike realism. Yet even so, Qixue couldn’t discern Xie Shu’s appearance from the statue, as its eyes were covered by a silk cloth, revealing only the nose bridge and jawline.

Why cover the statue’s eyes? Was there some special custom?

Qixue puzzled over the statue but couldn’t figure it out. The original story hadn’t mentioned it either.

In the end, he chalked it up to Xie Shu putting on airs, covering the eyes with cloth to pretend he was some otherworldly expert.

Qixue inwardly grumbled when he suddenly felt hungry.

He had lost his appetite for days, so this rare hunger was welcome. Seeing the fresh pastries and fruits on the offering tables, he didn’t stand on ceremony and grabbed a piece to munch—specifically from Xie Shu’s table, of course.

He ate two pieces, still not satisfied, so he took another. Not only did he steal offerings, but he even mocked Xie Shu’s statue sarcastically.

“Palace Lord Xie, State Preceptor Xie, since you’re still alive, you don’t really need these offerings, right? I’ll eat a few bites for you first. When you die, I’ll pay you back—I keep my word. So hurry up and die; I’ll definitely bring offerings to pay my respects.”

At that moment, a clear breeze blew into the Ancestral Master Hall, extinguishing the eternal lamp on Xie Shu’s table. The silk cloth on the statue also fell, revealing the covered eyes.

The statue’s face was somewhat distorted, yet its handsome outline was still discernible. Its eyes were only whites, without carved pupils. But when Qixue met its gaze, he felt a strong line of sight descend, as if Xie Shu himself was watching him through the statue.

Could Xie Shu really see into the Ancestral Master Hall through the statue, which was why the eyes were covered?

Qixue’s heart raced. He hurriedly lifted his sleeve to cover his face and slipped out of the Ancestral Master Hall.

Back Mountain.

Xie Shu’s Dao Field.

Snow-white gauze curtains billowed in the wind, revealing a shadowy figure between the gaps. Only a pair of slender, clean hands was visible, manipulating the jade yarrow stalks on the table.

The great derivation number is fifty; its use is forty-nine.

He divined the hexagram.

The Six Harmonies hexagram—greatly auspicious, signifying marriage.

The person who appeared in the Ancestral Master Hall shared deep karmic ties with him. Through divination, this was his Heavenly Destined Marriage, his fated partner.

“…”

He slowly set down the yarrow stalks. The gauze curtains closed, then parted again in the wind, but the figure behind had vanished. Only the jade yarrow stalks gleamed with a clear luster under the sunlight.

–

After leaving the Ancestral Master Hall, Qixue uneasily returned to Xuan Yang’s courtyard. He transformed into Rabbit Tuan and hid in Xuan Yang’s bedding, fearing Xie Shu would come to settle accounts.

Fortunately, Xie Shu wasn’t so petty as to personally chase him over a few pastries. Rabbit Tuan waited half a day with nothing happening and finally relaxed, thinking it might have been his imagination—guilt from thievery making him see things.

Rabbit Tuan quietly crawled out from the bedding and transformed back into human form. Then, guiltily, he discovered he had produced more rabbit milk, soaking Xuan Yang’s bedding. Now the entire quilt carried his milky scent.

The Holy Monarch wouldn’t blame him, right?

Qixue thought embarrassedly. Familiar now, he squeezed his milk again—this time in human form. His original form was too small and strenuous; human form was more convenient.

He undid his collar, fetched the teacup again, and squeezed milk into it. The creamy liquid dripped from the soft tip and ruby gem, gradually filling the cup. His chest reddened from the stroking and began to ache, so he switched sides.

Qixue went to the window, about to fetch another teacup for the milk, when he suddenly noticed a blurry figure outlined on the glass. Sensing it wasn’t Xuan Yang outside, his expression changed. He buttoned his collar and pushed open the window, immediately meeting the visitor’s gaze.

Standing outside was a young man—or more precisely, a demon clan in youthful form.

The fourteen- or fifteen-year-old boy had a cool, handsome appearance. He wore snow-white Daoist robes, with silver hair falling to his shoulders. He gazed at Qixue with detached aloofness.

His eyes were narrow and long, with silver-white lashes half-veiling glassy pale-gold vertical pupils. A pair of small horns protruded from his forehead, and a Virgin Mark dotted the center of his brows.

The boy’s aura was pure and lofty like snow on a mountaintop, not at all like a peeper. But Qixue knew he had definitely peeked just now. Quite displeased, he asked, “Who are you? Why did you trespass into Xuan Yang Daoist’s courtyard uninvited?”

The demon clan boy stared at him for a long time before answering irrelevantly, “Are you Xuan Yang’s wife?”

Qixue frowned lightly. “I am not Xuan Yang Daoist’s wife.”

“You’ve already married.” The boy lowered his gaze to Qixue’s chest. “You even have a child.”

“What I have or don’t have is none of your business. Is that your excuse for sneaking in and peeping at me?”

Qixue grew angry. He went around to the door and stepped outside, storming toward the boy. “You’re wearing Daoist robes—are you a Cloud Moon Temple disciple? What did your master teach you?”

The boy said, “My name is Dao Qing. I live in the Back Mountain.”

Back Mountain?

Qixue was stunned. Wasn’t the Back Mountain Xie Shu’s Dao Field? But Dao Qing was clearly demon clan; he couldn’t be Xie Shu.

Thus, Qixue quickly concluded, “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” Dao Qing said, “I’ll come see you again.”

His figure vanished abruptly. Qixue hadn’t even blinked, yet he completely missed how Dao Qing left—he simply disappeared into thin air.

What a weirdo. Did Cloud Moon Temple have such a disciple?

Qixue adjusted his collar, very unhappy. He didn’t feel ashamed; he was simply annoyed at being watched.

But he knew Dao Qing’s cultivation was exceptionally high—far above his own. He must be a demon clan with powerful bloodline, though Qixue couldn’t identify the type.

In the next instant, Dao Qing’s figure appeared in Xie Shu’s hermitage.

His form stretched and grew tall, his back becoming that of a tall, upright adult man.

He silently entered the gauze curtains and placed his fingers on the yarrow stalks, scattering the divined hexagram.

This was his Heavenly Destined Marriage?