“A pot of tea,” Xiao Qiyu said, pulling a few copper coins from her sleeve and handing them over.
The waiter grinned as he took the money, shouted toward the kitchen, then turned to serve other customers.
Blind, and yet with a clearer heart? Xiao Qiyu kept her head lowered, listening quietly, but all she heard was endless noise.
That’s all she’d heard this past year.
Life was nothing more than wading through murky waters of right and wrong—when had it ever been peaceful? Her heart had never truly been still.
Her thoughts drifted, and as she recalled the events of a year ago, a faint, self-mocking smile tugged at her lips.
Unlike today’s blazing sun, that day had been filled with falling snow—a season stripped of all color.
Jingsi Cliff, the northernmost peak of Bi Xuan Palace, was where Xiao Qiyu had spent two years.
But she had never truly meditated there.
Instead, every time she looked at the snow-covered ground or the birds on the branches, her heart filled with sorrow.
Why sorrow? Where did it come from? She had already taken the blame for Ling Xue—shouldn’t her heart be calm? But her state of mind had gone the opposite way.
She was constantly anxious, unable to eat or sleep.
That day, Fang Qi’er brought a lunchbox to Jingsi Cliff.
Ever since her senior sister returned to the palace, she had requested to live there alone.
Only Fang Qi’er would bring her meals.
Occasionally, their master and Qin Keyun would visit, but the other disciples never came.
Though peaceful, it was incredibly lonely—just the way Xiao Qiyu wanted it.
Fang Qi’er stepped onto the porch with a cheerful smile, but before she even saw anyone, the thick scent of blood hit her nose.
“Senior sister?” Fang Qi’er furrowed her brows.
As soon as she entered the room, she was so shocked that her hands went limp, dropping the lunchbox to the floor.
She rushed forward, shouting, “Senior sister! What are you—what… Someone help! Sister Keyun! Master!” Her voice cracked with panic, because Xiao Qiyu was holding a sword, having just blinded herself.
The inexplicable act shocked everyone in Bi Xuan Palace.
Though Fang Qi’er had stopped her in time and Xiao Qiyu hadn’t lost her sight completely, the self-harm left everyone baffled.
As the eldest disciple, Xiao Qiyu was kind, graceful, well-mannered, and highly skilled in martial arts.
All the disciples admired her, and she was the master’s chosen successor to lead the palace.
With such a bright future, why would she lock herself away at Jingsi Cliff, and even…?
“Yu’er… why did you do this?” Xuan Li, the current head of Bi Xuan Palace, now in her sixties with graying hair, sat by the bed, her face full of worry.
Xiao Qiyu was her most valued disciple.
Compared to the troubled girl from a year ago, she had now gone so far as to try to take her own life.
This child’s thoughts ran too deep—Xuan Li couldn’t understand her at all.
Why? Xiao Qiyu herself didn’t know.
“Two years ago, I let you travel the Jianghu because I thought you still had a child’s heart and needed to explore.
Now that you’ve returned, you should be more grounded, not like this… Look at you now.
How can I entrust Bi Xuan Palace to you?” Xuan Li frowned, her concern outweighing her expectations.
She had raised Xiao Qiyu, but still couldn’t figure her out.
“Master…” Xiao Qiyu’s fingers brushed the bandages over her eyes.
She said calmly, “I’ve stayed at Jingsi Cliff for a year, but I couldn’t find peace.
Instead, I became more troubled.
I often wondered—what I see before me, is it real? Or false? I can see, yet I see nothing.”
So why not just take away her sight—maybe then, her heart would be clear?
Xuan Li was silent for a long time before sighing.
“Tell me, what do you plan to do now?”
“I wish to leave the palace,” Xiao Qiyu said without hesitation.
Would leaving help her find the source of her unrest? Xiao Qiyu wasn’t sure.
She only knew she wanted to travel the world, to search for a truth even she couldn’t grasp.
With her eyes covered, Xiao Qiyu left Bi Xuan Palace that very day.
She didn’t say when she’d return.
Who knew when—or if—she ever would? Perhaps not even Xiao Qiyu herself could say.
Months passed in a flash.
From the first snowfall to the summer cicadas, Xiao Qiyu kept her eyes veiled, listening to the world.
But she found no answers—only deeper confusion.
Maybe she had lost her way long ago.
Now, she couldn’t even see the path ahead.
Her steps were steady, but who could know the sorrow in her heart? She looked gentle and refined, but who knew the cold blood that ran beneath? She seemed untouched by the world, yet was more stubborn than anyone.
Her slender hand held the teapot, pouring tea into the cup.
A gust of wind blew, and a faint smile appeared on Xiao Qiyu’s face—gentle as always, but without warmth.
“That’s her! The demon woman from Bi Xuan Palace!” a man shouted gruffly, causing panic all around.
The tea stall’s customers scattered.
Dozens of burly men with long blades surrounded Xiao Qiyu, their faces fierce.
But the beauty remained calm, holding the teapot in one hand as she poured clear tea into the cup, completely at ease.
The men’s eyes narrowed, and they stepped forward.
“You’re Xiao Qiyu?” asked a man in a tiger-striped beast robe, raising a brow in suspicion.
“That’s me,” Xiao Qiyu replied, setting down the teapot.
The man’s eyes widened.
He raised his arm and shouted, “Seize her!”
His men obeyed, raising their blades and charging forward.
But Xiao Qiyu simply lifted her cup, completely unfazed.
She sipped the cool tea, and in that instant, the men froze mid-step.
No matter how hard they tried, it was as if they were carrying a thousand-pound weight.
Their knees buckled, and they all dropped to the ground.
To onlookers, it looked like they were kneeling in respect to Xiao Qiyu.
“W-What’s going on?!” the leader roared, glaring at Xiao Qiyu.
“Demon woman! What did you do?!”
Xiao Qiyu finished her tea and stood up gracefully, ignoring his shouting as she prepared to leave.
“Wait!” the man suddenly panicked and called out, “The Sect Leader… she has what you want!”
What I want?
Xiao Qiyu paused, as if waiting for him to explain.
“The Sect Leader said she has what you’re looking for.
She told us to bring you back to the Demonic Sect,” the man said, his voice lacking confidence, looking disheveled.
The Demonic Sect’s leader… has what I’m looking for? Ridiculous.
I don’t even know what I’m searching for—how could she?
“If the Sect Leader is so eager to invite me,” Xiao Qiyu said with a wave of her hand, instantly releasing the men from their invisible shackles, leaving them drenched in sweat, “then I’ll trouble you all to lead the way.”
Unless she allowed it, how could these nobodies possibly capture the top disciple of Bi Xuan Palace? They were nothing more than wild monkeys for her to toy with.
Inside the carriage, after hours of swaying, Xiao Qiyu sat with her eyes closed, pretending to sleep.
Whether her eyes were open or shut, all she saw was darkness.
Where she was going didn’t matter.
She was already lost—what was there to fear? The rhythmic sound of wooden wheels filled her ears, but her thoughts had long drifted far away.
What could the Sect Leader possibly offer her? How could she know what Xiao Qiyu was seeking?
No matter…
Her heart was emptier than empty… maybe it was already gone.
The carriage came to a sudden stop.
The door opened, and several nervous men stood outside.
Xiao Qiyu chuckled softly, stepping out without needing help.
The air carried a faint scent of gunpowder—an aura of aggression.
So this was the Demonic Sect’s territory? The domain of that mysterious and ruthless Sect Leader who stirred the Jianghu?
“The Sect Leader asks Miss Xiao to wait in the courtyard for a moment,” came a child’s voice.
A little girl stepped forward and spoke.
“Thank you.
Please lead the way,” Xiao Qiyu said with a slight bow and a smile.
The two of them walked through a dim corridor.
Xiao Qiyu couldn’t see the ornate carvings along the way, only the echoing silence that filled the air—so lonely.
The girl led her to a courtyard within a cave.
Though surrounded by cliff walls, a hole at the top let sunlight pour in.
From afar, it looked like a full moon in daylight—unchanging, eternal.
The girl left without a word, leaving Xiao Qiyu alone to wait.
The courtyard was filled with vibrant flowers, their fragrance masking the scent of gunpowder, creating a rare moment of peace.
In the center sat a black zither on a low platform.
Xiao Qiyu reached out and plucked a few strings, the soft notes echoing through the courtyard.
In the past, whenever she was troubled, she would play to ease her mind.
She rolled up her sleeves, sat properly, and picked up the zither.
Her pale fingers danced across the strings, and a sorrowful melody filled the air.
