Chapter 120: Meeting Each Other, the Beginning of the Story

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But as he came to his senses, Baili Mo looked more carefully and found no trace of anyone. He glanced around but saw nothing, feeling somewhat puzzled.

The Taoist priest turned his head as if to glance at his disciple, only to see a face full of confusion and daze. He always felt that having this disciple around would inevitably bring trouble and ruin his affairs. After a moment’s thought, he said again, “Very well, as you say, we cultivators must first enter the world to transcend it. Arrange things as you see fit.”

Helplessly, he shook his head and waved the whisk in his hand, wearing an expression of concern for his disciple’s sake.

“Truly!” Baili Mo jumped up at these words, a smile almost stretching to his ears.

“Remember, we of the Southern Mysterious Sect must firmly guard our hearts. The sect’s rules and laws forbid certain things absolutely—do not dare to touch them!” The Taoist priest shook his head at Baili Mo’s demeanor, then straightened up and spoke very seriously.

Just as he was about to turn away, he paused as if he’d forgotten something. Pointing to the nearby Yihong Pavilion, he admonished Baili Mo sternly, “There! Absolutely do not go there! Understand?”

“Yes, yes! I shall obey my master’s orders!” Baili Mo took a few steps back and made a solemn bow to the Taoist priest, patting his chest to promise that such a thing would never happen.

“Let’s hope so. I must go now. When I finish, I will come find you.” The Taoist sighed deeply. Knowing his disciple well, he could not help but feel uneasy.

“Master, rest assured!” Baili Mo watched his master fade into the distance, speaking to himself with earnest determination.

Half an incense stick later.

The dazzling world is captivating—the master should be far away by now! Baili Mo stood at the entrance of the Yihong Pavilion, pondering.

“The master said this is the hell of all beings, the root of all cultivators’ downfall,” Baili Mo murmured, shaking his head slightly, his righteous spirit mixed with a hint of exaggeration.

“Indeed! We cultivators walk against the heavens! If I do not enter hell, then who will?”

This twelve or thirteen-year-old boy clearly hadn’t taken his master’s words to heart. Just as the Taoist feared, the boy would not rest for a moment.

“I’m coming! Hell!”

A face full of noble righteousness broke into a mischievous grin.

“Dear guest, please come in~” At the entrance, the madam kept inviting customers inside, her heavily made-up face concealing wrinkles, wearing a fawning smile.

“Come, young, young guest…” The madam was suddenly struck silent when she saw Baili Mo, momentarily stunned by his extraordinary looks and ethereal aura.

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“E-Exalted Immortal…” The madam looked at his azure Taoist robe and stumbled over her words.

“What is it?” Baili Mo looked at the older woman puzzled.

“Nothing, nothing, honored guest, what brings you here?” After a moment, the madam recovered and smiled obsequiously.

“Well, I’m here but not sure what to do. Don’t you know what this place is for?” Baili Mo felt a bit guilty but couldn’t admit he had no clue, lest he appear ignorant.

“Yes, yes, yes, forgive me, honored guest, please come in. I will arrange everything you desire perfectly,” the madam chuckled, making Baili Mo both nervous and flushed.

“Ladies, a distinguished guest has arrived! Everyone, free or not, come out!” The madam led Baili Mo inside the Yihong Pavilion, calling out loudly.

Upon entering, Baili Mo could not tell the true nature of the place. From outside, the pavilion looked quite plain, just a simple wooden structure—neither elegant nor beautiful.

But inside, it was much larger than it appeared. A small stream ran through the main hall, with tiny wooden bridges arching over it in all directions. Wooden pillars were wrapped in green vines, fresh and elegant.

There were even real cherry blossom trees as decoration, petals fluttering gently in the air. Occasionally, the sound of strings and flutes drifted softly, accompanied by clear and captivating singing.

Baili Mo looked forward. The hall was already filled with guests at several tables, murmuring sweetly. Young women in revealing attire whispered to the guests nearby. Ahead was a stage where masked women sang and played instruments, their enchanting voices filling every corner of the pavilion. Truly, it was “exquisitely refined.”

Baili Mo blushed, his heart restless.

The madam led the daydreaming Baili Mo to a private room on the second floor. When the door opened, a scent of ink and books wafted out, showing much care had been taken in this room.

“Please sit, honored guest. I will bring the ladies shortly; don’t worry,” the madam smiled, while Baili Mo, still clueless, nodded dumbly, pretending to understand as she left the room.

Baili Mo’s face suddenly flushed from the ears. Though only twelve or thirteen and innocent of the world, he was no fool. He now vaguely guessed the “hell” his master had warned about.

“Don’t panic. Master would not lie to me. If he says this is hell, then it is hell! We cultivators believe: If I do not enter hell, then who will?”

“Huh? Isn’t that a Buddhist phrase?”

The seemingly silly boy kept convincing himself with his own twisted logic. Sitting by the wooden table, he trembled slightly as he sipped tea—looking forward, and yet some part of him feared what was to come.

Ah, men.

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Knock, knock—the gentle sound of knocking came. After waiting a long while, Baili Mo suddenly jolted, finishing his tea in one gulp, sitting up straight. The wooden door before him opened quietly, revealing a woman half-hidden behind a pipa. Indeed, her face was masked.

Baili Mo caught a glimpse of her beautiful eyes, perhaps eighteen or twenty years old, clear and flickering as if surprised by something unseen.

Though her face was covered, her long neck, fair skin, slender figure, and graceful curves were apparent. She wore a fresh, elegant pale blue dress adorned with a few lotus flowers, highlighting her refined and simple charm.

“Excuse me, sir, is your surname Zhao?” came a soft, delicate voice, as if afraid to disturb him.

Baili Mo heard nothing but felt his little heart pounding wildly, like a confused fawn, an elephant, a little dinosaur—all running amok.

A whole parade of wild beasts rushing through.

He just stared dumbfounded at this woman who stirred a tempest in his heart. Whether coincidence or destiny, this moment of eye contact marked the beginning of Baili Mo’s rise to fame for the bloody upheaval at the Southern Mysterious Sect.

“Ah, um, honored guest? Exalted Immortal?” The woman, seeing the boy so handsome yet silent, grew a little anxious.

After a long pause, Baili Mo finally came to his senses and smiled sheepishly, causing a warm smile to spread from the woman.

A destined coincidence, a chance encounter.

All coincidences are truly fate.

Every meeting in this world feels like a reunion after a long separation.

All causes and conditions arise beyond one’s control.

The upheaval at the Southern Mysterious Sect begins a new chapter.

This meeting marks the beginning of their story.

This will be a very long, very long tale.