WYFSDLG Chapter 2

In the face of Mu Hanyang’s heartfelt plea, Feng Qingyun’s expression remained calm, though his heart was far from it. He merely asked, his voice soft but steady: “Brother, has Cultivator Qi woken up yet?”

 

“No,” Mu Hanyang’s reply came swiftly, his tone shifting to visible frustration. “Not only are Bother Qi’s internal injuries not healing, but Ziqing’s state is even worse! He endured the entire journey without saying a word. That old fox’s methods are truly despicable!”

 

The mention of his friends’ suffering filled Mu Hanyang’s voice with a righteous indignation that was… Simply touching. It was probably the luckiest thing in the world to be Mu Hanyang’s friend, since having his boundless loyalty was a true blessing. And yet, for those who misunderstood his fierce camaraderie as something romantic, the depth of his feelings was shallow and superficial.

 

However, there was no way for Feng Qingyun to be moved by his indignation. After all, he knew the full story. That Cultivator Qi… The only reason he was in that state was his own evil and foolish behavior. He fell for a fox girl, and when she was unwilling to marry him, he wanted to take her by force. Enraged by his arrogance and rotten guts, the fox master stepped in, leaving Cultivator Qi in a state worse than death.

 

It was just as Bai Ruolin said— Her Senior Brother wasn’t cruel by nature. Instead, his mind was simply too naive, unable to distinguish friend from foe. But as Feng Qingyun watched him rant in righteous fury, he couldn’t help but be reminded that his beloved Senior Brother who wasn’t cruel by nature… Had just destroyed decades of his cultivation with a single, unthinking action. And yet, he could muster no anger.

 

Oblivious to the damage he had caused, Mu Hanyang was still consumed with outrage over his friend’s suffering. “The fox master is so ruthless, yet the Demon Lord doesn’t intervene! The demon clans are nothing but a chaotic mess—” He stopped abruptly, suddenly realizing his words, and turned to Feng Qingyun with an apologetic expression. “Qingyun… I wasn’t talking about you.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. I know you weren’t,” Feng Qingyun replied, his voice as gentle as ever.

 

Mu Hanyang seemed ready to say more, but Feng Qingyun raised a hand, stopping him. “I understand, Senior Brother. I’ll invite Mrs. Mu now,” he said while standing up gracefully, brushing past Mu Hanyang without a second glance. Mu Hanyang’s gaze followed his hand, watching his fingers drift away. For a fleeting moment, an indescribable unease crept into his heart, a sensation that something precious was slipping beyond his grasp… Just like moonlight spilling through his fingers.

 

However, Mu Hanyang soon came back to his senses. Relieved that Feng Qingyun had agreed to his request, a smile finally broke through his worry. “Thank you, Qingyun. I’ll leave this in your hands.”

 

Feng Qingyun hummed softly, but unfortunately, Mu Hanyang failed to notice how perfunctory his response was. He continued to say: “Once Mrs. Mu arrives, I’ll confront the fox master tomorrow! I’ll make it clear that Xiān Gōng Sect won’t tolerate this—”

 

Hearing his words, Feng Qingyun stopped abruptly, turning back to face him. His soft voice interrupted: “Senior Brother, that can’t be done.”

 

Mu Hanyang faltered, his brows knitting together. “What do you mean?! Why not?!”

 

“The Xiān Gōng Sect and the demon clans have long maintained a delicate friendship,” Feng Qingyun explained calmly. “The fox master personally attends the Heavenly Gate Ceremony every year. How can such a trivial matter disrupt the harmony between us?”

 

Mu Hanyang’s frustration mounted. “A trivial matter?! Qingyun, people’s lives are at stake! How can you call this trivial?!”

 

However, Feng Qingyun’s face was cold, his gaze steady and unyielding. The way he looked at Mu Hanyang was eerily similar to how he looked at the Demon Lord, back when they faced each other in front of the Heavenly Gate, all those years ago.

 

It was a quiet, resigned expression. A reflection of years spent silently shouldering burdens that were never meant to be his. Mu Hanyang’s heart sank suddenly, an inexplicable premonition clouding his mind.

 

“Human life is at risk,” Feng Qingyun repeated, his gaze sharp as a blade as he looked straight at him. “But Brother, the life of a fox girl isn’t important to you?”

 

Mu Hanyang faltered, choking on his words. He finally understood why Feng Qingyun’s attitude had been so cold, but strangely enough, it brought him a twisted sense of relief.

 

At least… He’s angry about some rumors. He doesn’t truly resent me…

 

Composing himself quickly, Mu Hanyang began to explain: “Those rumors are unfounded. Brother Qi is not that kind of person—”

 

Before he could finish, Feng Qingyun’s fingertips brushed through the air, and a gleaming jade plate appeared out of the void. “The fox master entrusted this jade plate to the sect as evidence. He was earnest and did not wish for us to bear enmity with the fox clan over a matter involving such a… Lesser person.” He held the jade plate up for emphasis. “I refrained from presenting it in the hall earlier, out of respect for you. But the evidence is irrefutable. Do you wish to see it?”

 

Feng Qingyun’s calm and cutting words left Mu Hanyang completely unprepared. However, instead of engaging with the evidence, he simply dismissed it: “The fox clan is notorious for their illusions. I’ve known Brother Qi for three years. I know his character—”

 

“And I’ve known Senior Brother for six hundred years,” Feng Qingyun interrupted, his voice steady but filled with something deeper. “Yet in all that time, when have you trusted me as much as you trust an outsider?”

 

The air in the room grew heavy, the weight of Feng Qingyun’s words echoing like thunder. For the first time, Mu Hanyang felt truly shaken, as if those words shattered something he had been avoiding looking at all along. His throat moved, but no words came, and the silence between them grew oppressive, thick with unspoken truths.

 

After a long pause, Feng Qingyun broke eye contact. He turned away, his tone chilling as he said: “It’s fine if you don’t believe me.” He then lowered his gaze, straightening his robes with an air that hinted at the end of the conversation. “I’ll invite Mrs. Mu. As for the sect’s relations with the fox clan, there will be no dispute. I won’t escalate this matter in the name of the sect. Now, Brother, please leave.”

 

Outsiders often spoke of how unwaveringly loyal Feng Qingyun was to Mu Hanyang, painting him as a docile and gentle companion. But only Mu Hanyang himself knew that behind that calm exterior, Feng Qingyun held firm principles, drawing lines that even he couldn’t cross.

 

There was a time when Mu Hanyang could test those boundaries. But now… Now it seemed that at some point, he had been shut out entirely.

 

That realization hit him harder than expected. For a moment, he stood frozen, watching Feng Qingyun’s unhurried movements as if they carried an unspoken finality. His heart clenched, and he finally broke the silence, his voice wavering with a mix of frustration and hurt: “Qingyun, we’ve known each other for over six hundred years. Since you were just a seed, I planted and raised you with my own hands. Do you truly think I don’t trust you—?” Mu Hanyang’s voice faltered, feeling as if the words he had leaned on for so many years—words he thought could smooth over any rift—had lost their power.

 

“…But I feel like I’ve grown to understand you less and less over the past three hundred years,” he continued hesitantly. “You’ve become entangled in these worldly affairs, bound by so-called kindness. You’re wasting your time with trivial matters, and your cultivation has stagnated for a century because of it. Have you ever thought—”

 

Before he could finish, Feng Qingyun’s eyes snapped shut. The harshness of those words cut deeper than any blade.

 

Common affairs.

 

To Mu Hanyang, the sect left behind by their master was nothing but common affairs…

 

… And the disciples who admired Mu Hanyang, who relied on him, were nothing more than burdens in his eyes. While Mu Hanyang was happy to play hero for the people at the foot of the mountain, he had no regard for those who truly deserved his protection.

 

Feng Qingyun’s grip on his robe tightened, and his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Mu Hanyang’s accusations of wasting his potential and the disregard for the lives under his care sank heavily into Feng Qingyun’s heart.

 

Seeing his brother’s despondency, Mu Hanyang felt a pang of unease. The sight of Feng Qingyun lowering his head like that didn’t remind him of the obedient younger brother who once took his scolding in silence. No, it was something else. It was a lack of reaction born of resignation. A resignation more painful than anger or disappointment.

 

Desperate to salvage the moment, Mu Hanyang stammered: “I’ve told you before, Qingyun. It’s because you seduced the Demon Lord at the Heavenly Gate Ceremony—”

 

“Brother!” Feng Qingyun’s voice rang out sharply, silencing him.

 

Mu Hanyang froze, startled by the rare outburst.

 

“The fault was mine alone. I was defeated because my skills were inferior. It has nothing to do with him,” Feng Qingyun said, his voice cold and clipped. “Please, take your own advice and diligently focus on cultivation in the future!” Without waiting for a response, Feng Qingyun turned and walked toward the door. His tone was distant as he added: “I’ll invite Mrs. Mu over. Brother, you should leave.”

 

The mention of the Demon Lord was a topic Feng Qingyun clearly had no patience for, acting as if any further discussion would push him past his breaking point. Mu Hanyang stood in place, his expression darkening. Something about Feng Qingyun’s demeanor felt off. It was far from his ethereal appearance, and so unlike the docile younger brother he once knew. And yet, there was a trace of humanity in it that made the sharp contrast even more painful to bear.

 

However, that trace of humanity had nothing to do with the person who raised him. How ironic.

 

Finally, Mu Hanyang’s voice softened: “Qingyun, you’re part of the demon clan. I know that. But many demons infiltrate the Righteous Path under false pretenses. They’re full of deceit, and their hearts are filled with treachery, especially the Demon Lord—”

 

“I’m different from Long Yin¹not gonna write the meaning of ML’s name here, cuz it’s sort of spoiler-ish. I won’t partake in his schemes,” Feng Qingyun interrupted, his tone weary. He had no idea how many times he said it in the past, to the point… He didn’t even notice he called the Demon Lord by his name. Even though he rarely let himself grow emotional, his voice still carried an edge of exasperation. “He put me back into my place with a single move and then mocked me for it. The whole world knows about it. Where on earth did you get the idea that I seduced him? If anything, it was him deceiving me.”

 

“What deceiving?! That was obviously his plan all along!” When Mu Hanyang heard his junior brother call the demon by his name, his expression turned colder than before. “If he wasn’t seduced by you, then how do you explain our ceremony when he—”

 

“What ceremony?’ Feng Qingyun’s eyebrows rose as he asked, feeling confused.

 

However, Mu Hanyang seemed to suddenly remember something. He opened his mouth to respond, but in the end, said nothing.

 

The bedroom fell into silence. At that moment, the sound of someone coughing came from outside the room.

 

“Brother Hanyang…” The weak voice of the teenager in red called. “I feel unwell again. I think it’s the fox clan’s spell—”

 

“…”

 

Mu Hanyang’s face darkened, and after a moment, he spoke stiffly: “Qingyun, just promise me you’ll stay away from that monster!”

 

Feng Qingyun’s lips curled into a rare, sarcastic smile. “Rest assured, Brother. It’s definitely impossible between he and I.” He paused, then added coldly: “You should check on your friend quickly. The night is long, and there are too many wishes that can turn into regrets.”

 

He rarely showed such a vulnerable, emotional look. However, it wasn’t jealousy. If anything, it was simply the appearance of an already broken porcelain vase, trying in vain to hold its pieces together. Mu Hanyang had initially planned to leave, but now he hesitated, clearly wanting to say something more. His steps faltered, and he turned back, trying to explain: “Ziqing and I aren’t—”

 

However, Feng Qingyun didn’t let him finish. Instead, he simply gave him a cold, detached glance that spoke louder than words. “Senior misunderstood.” His calm voice pierced through the silence like a blade. “Of course, I know that you and that gentleman are just friends. After all, you have someone else in your heart.” His words seemed placid, but they carried an undertone sharp enough to cut through steel. Then, as though he was tossing a thunderbolt into the room, he asked: “This time, have you found the person you’ve been looking for?”

 

The atmosphere froze instantly, and the air grew so heavy that even the sound of a pin drop would have been deafening.

 

That was a subject no one dared to broach, a scalding secret that was the untouchable reverse scale of Mu Hanyang’s existence. The entire cultivation world knew about it: the righteous Lord Mu was deeply in love with a woman who had long disappeared from his life, to the point where he vowed to find her, even if it meant chasing her into the Underworld.

 

But the nature of his obsession was peculiar. For someone so upright, Mu Hanyang’s attitude toward that woman was anything but ordinary. He wouldn’t tolerate any mention of her in his presence, let alone entertain any questions about their past. Even a careless inquiry could provoke his wrath, sometimes to the point of violence.

 

His behavior didn’t seem like simple admiration or longing. In fact, it was tinged with guilt, as though his love was gone because of his irreversible mistake. A love he could never regain, no matter how hard he tried.

 

Three hundred years had passed since his search began, but he hadn’t found a single trace of her.

 

Meanwhile, the world moved on.

 

Everyone knew that Feng Qingyun, Lord Mu’s younger brother, had harbored a deep affection for him since they were children. It was said that those of the demon clan were naturally obsessive about love, and Feng Qingyun’s devotion remained steadfast for centuries. Unable to bear the sight of his younger brother suffering in unrequited love, Mu Hanyang eventually relented. Though he was not inclined toward men, he held a grand Daoist ceremony with him, making them official Dao companions.

 

What followed was even more widely known: It was a marriage in name only.

 

Their relationship was one of mutual respect, but the flame of love never burned. To most, Mu Hanyang’s actions were plenty admirable. After all, anyone else in his shoes wouldn’t have gone so far for someone they didn’t love. By sacrificing himself to honor his brother’s feelings, Mu Hanyang had shown both righteousness and affection, a balance that won him the admiration of many.

 

So why wasn’t Feng Qingyun satisfied?

 

To outsiders, it seemed that he had everything he had ever wanted. He was the Dao companion of the revered Lord Mu, a privilege that countless others could only dream of. What more could he possibly desire?

 

But Feng Qingyun knew better.

 

For years, he had played the role of the perfect companion, never mentioning the woman in Mu Hanyang’s heart, not even once. His silence and restraint were so flawless that it almost seemed like he had forgotten her existence.

 

But tonight, the delicate facade shattered. Feng Qingyun’s subtly sarcastic question tore through the carefully maintained pretense, revealing a bitterness that had festered for centuries.

 

Caught completely off guard, Mu Hanyang felt a mix of unease and panic. The gentle, accommodating Feng Qingyun he knew seemed to have vanished overnight. In his place stood someone sharp and unyielding, a stranger who made him want to escape. After a long, suffocating silence, he finally managed to say: “This has nothing to do with you. Don’t ask further.”

 

Then, as if fleeing from a battlefield, he turned and left in a hurry.

 

The moonlight outside the bedroom fell in waves, cold and detached, as eternal as the sky itself.

 

Feng Qingyun stood in place gazing at the silvery glow, his expression calm, as though nothing had happened. For years, Mu Hanyang had treated him with the utmost respect. To the outside world, their relationship was spotless, free from any scandal. But Feng Qingyun had come to understand that his efforts to bridge the gap between them were futile. From the beginning, their bond had been a simple, one-sided wish.

 

His desire for Mu Hanyang was like drinking poison to quench his thirst—beautiful in theory but deadly in practice.

 

Still, he had endured. Because every so often, Mu Hanyang would give him the faintest glimmer of hope, a moment of warmth that kept his delusions alive. Just like tonight, when Mu Hanyang’s accusations of him seducing the Demon Lord sounded protective and almost… Mad with jealousy.

 

Feng Qingyun frowned slightly. The world knew there was enmity between him and the Demon Lord. Despite being a demon himself, his duties as the true leader of the Xiān Gōng Sect required him to interact with demonic cultivators from opposite sides. It was a delicate balance that few could manage.

 

But his personal history with the Demon Lord remained a mystery to most. However, what truly puzzled him was Mu Hanyang’s hostility whenever the Demon Lord was mentioned. Just like a wolf protecting its food, Mu Hanyang acted as if he truly was his Dao companion, afraid some wild man was trying to steal his spouse. A thought so ironic it almost made Feng Qingyun laugh.

 

In the end, what were Mu Hanyang’s true thoughts? And what “ceremony” did he refer to? Was he talking about the annual Heavenly Gate Ceremony? Because of his Senior Brother’s animosity, he had never invited the Demon Lord and, for hundreds of years, Long Yin had never shown interest in attending either. He only came once, and that was to mock him.

 

So what did it have to do with the Demon Lord? Or… Was his Senior Brother referring to another ceremony?

 

Feng Qingyun’s divine consciousness unconsciously spread across the sect as his thoughts wandered. He had no intention of eavesdropping, but a voice still reached his ears:

 

“Brother Hanyang, you came so late… Since you spend so much time accompanying the Second Palace Master, between us… cough, cough… Should we avoid suspicion?”

 

Feng Qingyun froze. It was the voice of that teenager in red.

 

Mu Hanyang should have sensed Feng Qingyun’s divine consciousness, yet he didn’t seem to care. Or perhaps he trusted that Feng Qingyun wouldn’t listen. Either way, his response came naturally, without hesitation: “Qingyun and I are not true Dao companions. It’s only out of brotherly affection that I indulged him. Why should I avoid suspicion with you?”

 

The teenager hesitated. “But Brother Hanyang, I feel like… Maybe, deep down, you do love him without realizing it.”

 

“…Your speculation is groundless.” Mu Hanyang was silent for a long time. However, for some reason, his tone turned cold as soon as he opened his mouth. “That’s absurd. I’m not like that Long Yin, moved by men. Besides, I already have someone else in my heart.”

 

“But…” The teenager subconsciously said.

 

“There’s no but. There’s nothing between me and my junior brother. Not in the past, not now, and certainly not in the future.” He then paused, his voice regaining its calm before continuing: “Qingyun never had anything to do with my feelings for Miss Yu.”

……………………..

As usual, up to five chapters in advance are available here. Happy reading!

 

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  not gonna write the meaning of ML’s name here, cuz it’s sort of spoiler-ish