Chapter 133: Longing Is the Most Dismissed of All

A few days later.

The Emperor of Xia passed away. The Great Xia Dynasty held a funeral, and the entire nation was steeped in deep, heavy mourning. Within the imperial palace, the once resplendent and golden-hued city was draped in a somber white, as if it had lost its former luster and faded into gloom. That day, paper-made white silk flowers blanketed the entire imperial city, exuding a strange and desolate chill.

The Emperor’s death had been sudden—so sudden that rumors swirled outside about whether one of the princes had conspired to kill him in a bid for power. Whispers and gossip spread everywhere, and even Baili Mo of the Nanxuan Sect heard plenty of such talk. Standing atop the mountain clouds, he held the letter that had just arrived. It read: "All is well; I hope you do not worry."

The more he read those words, the heavier his heart grew. If not for the Nanxuan Sect’s strict regulations prohibiting disciples from leaving the mountain at will, he would have gone to find her long ago. Baili Mo let out a deep sigh. The letter also mentioned that her planned visit to the Nanxuan Sect would likely be delayed, and she asked him not to blame her. Yet, with Xia Qinglian writing in such a manner, there was little he could say; with such turmoil in the palace, she was undoubtedly overwhelmed.

Three months passed. During this time, no matter how many letters Baili Mo sent, not a single reply came from Xia Qinglian. He repeatedly petitioned his master to allow him to leave the mountain, but for reasons unknown, Jin Xuanzi strictly forbade it and ordered the junior sister to keep a close watch on him.

Another three months went by. For a full half-year, there had been no communication between Baili Mo and Xia Qinglian.

One day, the sky turned gray, and a chill accompanied the breeze; autumn had arrived. A carriage of extreme luxury slowly pulled up to the foot of the Nanxuan Immortal Mountain, its passengers claiming to be there to visit an old friend.

Though it was called a carriage, it was drawn by no ordinary horses. A white, winged, single-horned beast pulled a massive purple-copper gilded vehicle as it descended from the sky. It was escorted by several powerful cultivators; a keen sense revealed them all to be at the Golden Core stage, with even more powerful figures hidden in the shadows as secret protection. Such a grand entourage was something even the princes rarely enjoyed.

"Please, everyone. The Sect Master has already given word that we were to expect distinguished guests today," the gatekeepers of the Nanxuan Sect said, courteously ushering the group into the sect.

As the reins of the 'carriage' were handed to a Nanxuan disciple, the disciple was stunned to see that a Golden Core cultivator had been acting as the coachman. Then, the curtain was gently drawn back, and a graceful, noble woman stepped out.

Her dark hair cascaded like a waterfall to her waist. She wore a luxurious cyan gown embroidered with green lotus flowers that rose untainted from the mud. Her temperament was elegant and refined, with willow-leaf eyebrows, phoenix eyes, and a radiant smile. Possessing an otherworldly beauty, the few jewels in her hair were perfectly placed, enhancing her elegance rather than appearing gaudy.

High on the mountain peak, once Baili Mo learned of Xia Qinglian’s arrival, he hurriedly interrupted his cultivation, donned a clean set of robes, and set off for the foot of the mountain—he had never been so quick when his junior sister called him for meals.

In mere moments, a path that had once been so familiar to him felt entirely fresh, with every flower and tree possessing a new sense of wonder. The long journey was covered in an instant, and he arrived at the base of the mountain.

In a pavilion, several cultivators stood guard, either protecting the person within or perhaps watching over her. Baili Mo slowed his pace on the path leading to the pavilion. The person he had yearned for day and night was now before his eyes; his heart had never raced so fast. He realized then just how agonizing those years of waiting had truly been.

Years had passed since they last met, yet this deep-seated affection had not faded in the slightest. Instead, with the passage of time, it had grown deeper, richer, and more mellow.

As if sensing a gaze, Xia Qinglian slowly turned her head. Her eyes, clear as autumn water, met his, and her body trembled slightly. He appeared somewhat unfamiliar, yet he was still so familiar. Three years later, he was no longer a mere boy; he had grown more handsome, his bearing more extraordinary. Yet, in Xia Qinglian’s mind, he had never changed.

He was still that same naive, dazed youth. Xia Qinglian wanted to smile, but she found she could not. He had not changed, but she was no longer the girl she once was.

"I wish to speak with an old friend for a moment. Do not follow," Xia Qinglian said to the guards beside her.

"But..." one of them started to protest, but a single glance from Xia Qinglian silenced him.

"I know. You do not need to remind me," Xia Qinglian said, taking a deep breath.

Baili Mo felt the atmosphere was strange, but reunited with the one he longed for, he did not dwell on it. He had recognized her instantly. Even though she was no longer the simple girl of the mortal world, even though she had become so elegant and noble, he still knew her. To him, she had never changed.

"Come, walk with me," Xia Qinglian said to Baili Mo with a calm smile.

For some reason, he felt a distance between them—a distance that had not existed even when they were separated by tens of thousands of miles of imperial lands and mountain peaks, communicating only by letter. Face to face, that distance was now painfully strong. They were two people who cared for each other, yet they now felt a sense of cold indifference.

"Alright." Baili Mo felt a sense of estrangement, but he smiled gently, just as he had in the past.

On the Nanxuan Immortal Mountain, the path paved with bluestone was lined with exotic flowers and herbs not found in the mortal realm. The air was filled with fragrance and a hazy mist, beautiful enough to intoxicate the senses.

"Are... are you well?" Baili Mo asked softly. He felt as though something had come between them—a sense of distance, a distance created by Xia Qinglian.

He did not even dare to call her by her nickname, 'Lotus'. He was suddenly afraid—afraid of what might happen, and afraid of angering her.

"I am well," Xia Qinglian replied after a long silence. Her voice was still soft and sweet, but it trembled slightly. Then, she fell silent.

"'I'?" Baili Mo seemed to understand something, yet at the same time, he understood nothing. He gave a self-deprecating laugh, for that was all he could do.

The road was very long, and they had not yet reached the end. The road was very short, and they had already reached the end. Yet no matter how long a road is, it has an end; no matter how short it is, one cannot turn back. The destination is always just a destination; it can never become the starting point again.

Eventually, they circled the Nanxuan Immortal Mountain and returned to the pavilion. After that, they simply walked, never speaking another word. He did not ask, and she did not answer. Baili Mo suppressed the surging emotions within him, desperately trying to appear calm; he did not want her to see his desolation.

"I am leaving," Xia Qinglian said, looking up at Baili Mo’s face with calm composure.

"Is that so?" Baili Mo smiled gently, as if bidding a final farewell.

Xia Qinglian offered a final smile, exactly as she had three years ago—so elegant. Baili Mo felt dizzy and impulsive, but he held himself back with all his might.

He understood her meaning. Although he did not know why she chose this, he respected her decision, even if that decision was to let go. He would fulfill all her wishes, for he now understood the surging emotions in his own heart. It was love; he loved her.

"Thank you. Those three years... I was very happy," Xia Qinglian said softly. Then she turned away and took the first step of departure. Baili Mo could no longer see her expression.

It was a true departure. The meaning was all too clear.

Baili Mo watched her leave, watched her be escorted by her guards into the carriage, watched her grow distant, and watched her disappear into the distance.

"I... was happy, too," Baili Mo whispered when she was no longer in sight, though his expression was unreadable.

A fine rain began to fall. The rain was like silk, light and thin. There was no sound of pattering, no feeling of being drenched. This rain gently dampened Baili Mo’s face, and he could not tell if it was rain or tears. He felt as if he had lost something—deep in his heart, there was an agonizing, piercing pain.

"Ha! Hahaha! Ha!!!" Baili Mo laughed heartily, yet painfully, followed by a roar—a cry of soul-wrenching agony, a sob of heart-shattering grief.

In the distance, his junior sister stood holding a paper umbrella in the mist, watching her senior brother release his sorrow. She did not approach, and crystal tears slid down her cheeks. She wept, and she understood: this affection in her heart could no longer be suppressed. Growing up together, the so-called childhood sweetheart bond—at this moment, she knew it was no longer just sisterly love. She had fallen in love with him, but she could only stand on the sidelines.

The rain was like tangled thoughts and complex emotions that would neither stop nor break. The gentle rain fell, thoughts swirled, yet all was silent.

What is longing? No one cares anymore.
Drunk in the sleepless city, neon lights everywhere.
The wine cup is filled with excessive sentiment.
The easiest thing to forget is the poetry of the ancients.
The most dismissive thing of all is longing.
The most dismissive thing of all is merely longing.

A person has three thousand ailments, but longing is the only one that cannot be cured.