The nights on Jinghong Peak were always exceptionally cold, moonlight flowing like water, casting long, slender bamboo shadows.

Shu Yue had been restless lately.

The deliberate calm she maintained didn’t bring the expected peace; instead, it felt like a tightening cocoon, suffocating her for no apparent reason.

Especially when her divine sense inadvertently swept over that increasingly frail figure silently working in the corner, an inexplicable irritation would quietly take root.

‘Something’s wrong, very wrong.’

‘My survival strategy is executed so perfectly, why do I feel no sense of accomplishment?’

‘Instead, I feel… guilty?’

‘Shu Yue, snap out of it! She’s the heroine, a high-risk character. Keep your distance!’

To dispel these unwanted emotions, she decided to meditate by the Cold Pool at the back mountain. Its biting chill might help her regain clarity.

The Cold Pool lay deep within the bamboo grove, rich in spiritual energy but piercingly cold.

Shu Yue shed her outer robe, wearing only a thin snow-white inner garment, and stepped into the shallow waters by the pool’s edge. She sat cross-legged, letting the icy water seep into her skin, trying to freeze her chaotic thoughts.

Moonlight bathed her, the wet inner garment clinging to her, faintly outlining her slender yet powerful waist and the graceful curve of her back.

Her damp black hair stuck to her pale neck, a few strands clinging to her cheeks. Her usually aloof and ethereal face, softened by moonlight and mist, exuded a breathtaking yet fragile beauty.

With her eyes closed, her long lashes, adorned with tiny water droplets, trembled slightly, like a butterfly resting on snow.

So focused on battling her inner turmoil and the cold, she didn’t notice a delicate figure approaching, as if drawn by fate.

Qing Wan had come searching for a rare Moon Glow Herb, a plant that grew only in extremely yin-cold places, the main ingredient for a calming elixir. She recalled the Elder mentioning a need for it once.

After searching for a long time, she deduced it might be near the Cold Pool.

When she parted the last bamboo leaf and saw the scene at the pool, she froze as if under a spell, forgetting to breathe.

In the moonlight and mist, that figure… was it Senior Sister?

No, the Elder.

But… an Elder she had never seen before.

Gone was the usual icy, unapproachable aura. Her wet clothes clung to her, her dark hair winding down, her profile softened by moonlight in an almost unreal way.

Fragile yet captivating, like a night-blooming cereus under the moon, dewed and delicate.

Cold, solitary, yet so beautiful it made Qing Wan’s heart tremble, her eyes unable to look away.

Her heart pounded wildly, thumping so loudly she feared it might be heard.

A rush of heat surged to her cheeks, her ears burning red.

She should turn and leave immediately—this was disrespectful!

But her feet felt nailed to the ground, her gaze greedily lingering on the stunning scene, unable to move an inch.

Shu Yue, with her advanced cultivation, sensed the intense stare despite her unsettled mind and snapped her eyes open, frost covering her gaze as she demanded sharply, “Who’s there!”

Seeing Qing Wan, a flash of panic crossed her face, quickly replaced by deeper coldness.

‘Why is she here? How much did she see!’

Qing Wan flinched at the icy rebuke, jolted from her trance, her face paling. She stammered, head bowed, “El-Elder… I’m sorry… I was looking for Moon Glow Herb… I didn’t know you were here… I’ll leave now!”

Her words tumbled out chaotically as she turned to flee.

“Stop.” Shu Yue’s voice betrayed no emotion.

Qing Wan’s body stiffened, her back to Shu Yue, shoulders trembling slightly from fear and the overwhelming impact of the scene she’d just witnessed.

Shu Yue rose from the pool, her spiritual power drying her clothes and hair instantly, restoring her untouchable, aloof demeanor.

She stepped behind Qing Wan, keeping a careful distance, her voice flat. “Found the Moon Glow Herb yet?”

“N-not yet…”

“Then keep looking.”

Shu Yue spoke as if nothing had happened. “When you find it, deliver it to Jinghong Hall.”

She moved to pass by Qing Wan, intending to leave.

‘I need to get out of here! This atmosphere is too weird!’

But as she brushed past, something—perhaps the hazy moonlight, the lingering impact of the scene, or the pent-up grievances, longing, admiration, and suppressed stirrings in Qing Wan’s heart—broke through the dam of reason.

With courage from nowhere, Qing Wan reached out, her trembling fingers lightly grasping the edge of Shu Yue’s sleeve.

The movement was cautious, barely perceptible, yet enough to make Shu Yue freeze mid-step.

Her body stiffened as she turned sharply, eyes locking onto the trembling hand clutching her sleeve, then to Qing Wan.

Qing Wan looked up, her eyes red and brimming with complex emotions.

“Elder…” Her voice trembled with a sob, soft and fragile.

“Do I… really… displease you so much?”

The question, held in her heart for so long, finally spilled out, carrying desperate resolve and humble hope.

Shu Yue’s heart jolted.

‘Here it comes, the death question! A classic trap! How do I answer? Say I dislike her? Too harsh, she might turn dark. Say I don’t? Then all my efforts are wasted!’

Seeing Qing Wan’s tear-streaked face, her heart felt struck, a crack forming in her icy facade.

She instinctively moved to pull her sleeve back, ready to scold coldly.

But before she could, Qing Wan, as if exhausting all her courage, tightened her grip on the sleeve, stood on tiptoe, and leaned forward uncontrollably.

A fleeting, cool touch, like an illusion, brushed the corner of Shu Yue’s lips.

So light, so quick, like a snowflake melting on contact.

A moment of softness and chill.

A faint, sweet scent of a young girl lingered.

Time seemed to freeze.

The bamboo leaves stopped rustling, the moonlight stilled in the air.

Shu Yue’s eyes widened, her mind blank.

‘!!!!’

Qing Wan froze too, stunned by her own boldness, her eyes wide with disbelief and panic.

She released the sleeve, stumbling back, her face flushing as if it might bleed.

“I-I’m sorry! Elder! I… I didn’t mean to! I…” Her words jumbled, tears spilling as she turned to flee.

“Stop!”

Shu Yue’s voice rang out, colder than before, with a barely perceptible… tremor?

Qing Wan halted, trembling violently, bracing for a storm of anger.

But the expected rebuke didn’t come.

Silence hung heavy.

Only the cold moonlight and their slightly erratic breathing filled the air.

Shu Yue stood rooted, her fingers brushing the corner of her lips, where the fleeting touch lingered.

Her heart raced, an unprecedented wave of panic and stirring overwhelming her, nearly shattering her icy mask.

‘My first kiss!!!’

‘Kissed?! She kissed me?! Even if it was just the corner… it’s still a kiss! The heroine kissed the villainess?! This plot’s gone completely off the rails! Help! What do I do?! Silence her? Flee the sect?!’

Looking at Qing Wan, who seemed on the verge of fainting from fear, Shu Yue’s scolding words stuck in her throat, unable to escape.

Finally, with all her self-control, she suppressed her roiling emotions, her voice taut, devoid of joy or anger, only chillingly cold:

“No need to find the Moon Glow Herb.”

“Go back to your quarters immediately. If you dare breathe a word of tonight…”

She didn’t finish, but the unspoken threat was more terrifying than any reprimand.

Without another glance at Qing Wan, her figure flickered, vanishing like a startled moon shadow, leaving only the cold moonlight and the mist of the Cold Pool.

Qing Wan stood alone, dazed, for a long while before slowly raising a hand to touch her lips, her pale face flushing with burning heat.

She… she had…

Overwhelming fear and shame nearly drowned her, yet deep in her heart, a faint, twisted sweetness, forbidden and unspoken, quietly spread.

In her cave abode, Shu Yue leaned against the closed door, sliding to the floor. For the first time, her usually composed face showed panic and disarray.

She raised her hand, fingertips brushing the corner of her lips again.

‘…It’s over.’

This time, she truly felt things had spiraled out of control.

The distance she’d so carefully maintained hadn’t just failed to grow—it had veered into a far more dangerous, uncontrollable direction.