Chapter 10: The Peerless Young Lord

Mist shrouds Frost Mountain year-round, yet its depths hold vistas of breathtaking beauty. Unknowingly, Beigong Qiyi had already spent four years on Frost Mountain. This year, he was fourteen. He gazed upward, watching the thin layer of frost drifting atop the verdant leaves, and a gentle smile graced his lips.

These four years had been the freest of his life—more unrestrained than any in this lifetime or the last.

“Young master, Master Fu Zhi is looking for you.”

Beigong Qiyi beckoned to the handsome youth before him, who obediently came to sit by his side. Beigong Qiyi half-closed his eyes, hiding the vivid color at the corner of his gaze. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

The youth watched him without speaking.

“Ximo.” Beigong Qiyi opened his eyes.

“Hmm?” the youth responded, puzzled.

Beigong Qiyi turned to look at him. “It’s been four years. It’s time to go back. Will you come with me?”

Ximo lowered his eyes and smiled faintly. “My life was saved by you, young master. Wherever you go, I will follow.”

Fu Zhi appeared as indifferent as always, his face devoid of joy or sorrow. He glanced at Beigong Qiyi, then resumed his work. “If you’ve finished packing, then it’s time to descend the mountain.”

Beigong Qiyi arched an eyebrow, the red cinnabar mark between them trembling slightly. He looked at Fu Zhi, teasing, “After four years together, now that I’m leaving, won’t you miss me, Master?”

Fu Zhi did not even lift his head. “I am not your master.”

Beigong Qiyi lowered his eyes, concealing a fleeting look of mockery. Leaning close to Fu Zhi’s ear, he whispered, “Indeed, I am not him. Naturally, I don’t occupy your thoughts in the slightest. What a pity…”

Fu Zhi’s hands froze, his body stiffening instinctively.

Beigong Qiyi’s smile deepened. “What a pity, that man is heartless by nature. I fear all your affection is wasted like water flowing away.”

Fu Zhi’s brow furrowed. He pushed Beigong Qiyi aside and spoke coldly: “My affairs are none of your concern. It’s getting late. You should hurry down the mountain, young lord.”

Beigong Qiyi laughed twice, the sound echoing as if his slender frame could hardly bear the weight. He spared one last glance at Fu Zhi’s expressionless face, then turned away without hesitation.

Fu Zhi watched the youth’s slim figure slowly dissolve into the mist, then silently lowered his head. For a fleeting moment, his usually indifferent face softened. Gently, he caressed the half-sewn green sleeve hidden in his own, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.

Whether it will all be for nothing—such things are not yet decided… he thought, carefully tucking the scrap of fabric deep into his sleeve.

※※※

It was June, the season when a hundred flowers bloomed. The night wind was brisk, the jade moon hung high, and the banks teemed with strollers. Painted pleasure boats glided back and forth across the lake, the scene resplendent and enchanting.

Countless boats dotted the lake. Suddenly, ripples stirred the surface, and the guests within all leaned out in unison, as if by prearrangement. Instantly, a blaze of lantern light shimmered across the waves, illuminating the water with such intoxicating allure that even the night could not dampen its splendor.

Light from the buildings along the shore flared to brilliance, and a roar of excitement swept the lakeside. All boats paused as if on cue. A woman in red descended gracefully from the pavilion, landing lightly on the riverside stage.

The cheers and applause reached their height.

On a finely embroidered boat amid the crowd, a striking youth let down the curtain and turned to the other exquisitely beautiful boy within. “Young master, it seems to be a courtesan contest.”

Beigong Qiyi responded with a faint “Mm,” his lips curling in mockery as he gazed through the window at the seductive figure on stage. “Ximo, your young master here has seen a true beauty...”

Ximo tilted his head with a smile. “So have I.”

Beigong Qiyi laughed in spite of himself, tapping Ximo’s head. “Don’t tease your master.” Then he glanced back at the woman on stage, half-veiled by her pipa. After a while, he turned to Ximo. “Grind some ink for me. I’ll show you a true beauty.”

Inwardly, Ximo thought, Who in the world could claim such unrivaled beauty, if not the young master? Still, he obediently prepared the ink, already guessing whom Beigong Qiyi intended to paint.

Beigong Qiyi closed his eyes in contemplation. Searching his memory for that face, he was surprised to find it as vivid as the day they first met. He could not tell if he was painting that man or if the man was guiding his hand. When he finally came back to himself, a portrait had already appeared on the fine paper.

Beigong Qiyi studied the man in the painting, a barely perceptible frown creasing his brow.

“Young master...”

“Yes?” Beigong Qiyi returned from his reverie, smiling at Ximo. “All right, come and see a true beauty.”

Ximo leaned in. The man on the paper resembled Beigong Qiyi by six parts, but where Beigong Qiyi’s own looks were dazzling, this man’s features bore a weighty, icy severity. Even as a mere painting, he took one’s breath away.

“Well?” Beigong Qiyi asked from behind.

Ximo gazed at the portrait and whispered, “Is this the current master of Lichuang, Beigong Juechen?”

“Yes,” Beigong Qiyi nodded.

Looking away from the painting, Ximo turned to Beigong Qiyi with a radiant smile. “In all the world, only you, young master, are fit to be called the most dazzling of them all!”

Beigong Qiyi regarded him silently for a moment before chuckling softly. “Ximo, Ximo, though I may be extraordinary, don’t you dare fall in love with your young master.”

Ximo started, then lowered his head. “You jest, young master.” Yet the tender affection in his eyes slowly faded...

Outside, the cheers continued, beauties took the stage one after another, and the contest neared its end. As the last beauty appeared, the once-boisterous crowd fell instantly silent—only to erupt a moment later in even greater jubilation.

Beigong Qiyi’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden surge in noise. He frowned, lifted the curtain, and stepped outside. He looked at the figure onstage and couldn’t help but furrow his brows even tighter.

“Ah...” Ximo, who had followed, gasped softly as well. That man looked so much like... “Young master, he looks just like you.”

Beigong Qiyi shook his head. “No, he does not look like me.”

Ximo studied the man on stage again. “Is it... Beigong Juechen?”

Beigong Qiyi’s beautiful eyes filled with a cold, vicious light. No matter what that man’s intentions were, he would not allow anyone to wear Beigong Jue’s face and behave so garishly.

He leapt onto the stage, landing beside the man. Before the crowd could react, he tore away the thin human-skin mask, revealing a strikingly handsome face.

The man showed no reaction, only stared at Beigong Qiyi’s face for a long time, then shook his head slightly and murmured, “What a pity, it’s not him...”

A fleeting glimpse from the cabin had startled him, prompting this ruse to draw someone out. Unfortunately, though the resemblance was strong, it was not the right person.

Beigong Qiyi fixed him with a cold stare, sneering, “If he knew you were using his face for such things, do you think he would not tear you limb from limb?”

The man responded with a half-smile, “You must be Beigong Qiyi? The Beigong bloodline is truly remarkable.” He stroked his chin, studying Beigong Qiyi. “Still, no matter how alike, you are not him. Pass a message to your brother for me: after all these years apart, Qi Yong misses him terribly…”

Qi Yong… Beigong Qiyi jolted. “You’re from the Palace of a Hundred Fiends?”

The Palace of a Hundred Fiends—a demonic sect whose very name struck fear throughout the martial world. It was said to have twelve fiends, each with their own sinister specialty, moving like ghosts. Its current master, Qi Yong, was rarely seen, but whenever he appeared, carnage followed.

When the Hundred Fiends emerge, not even the dead dare walk.

Qi Yong raised an eyebrow. “For one so young, you know quite a lot. Yes, I am he.”

“As I understand, when the Palace Master emerges, the world is thrown into chaos once more…”

Qi Yong folded his arms, tilting his head with a wild, arrogant smile.

Seeing him thus, Beigong Qiyi’s expression shifted. This was the man who could make demons tremble, who with a flick of his hand could overturn the realm—this was the true Master of the Palace of a Hundred Fiends!

Yet, in the next instant, the man withdrew all his sharpness. Gazing at the lantern-lit lake, he said languidly, “It’s a pity, this time I’ve come only for one person.”

Beigong Qiyi blinked, hiding all emotion. “Don’t ever wear his face again, or else…” His expression shifted, then returned to calm. “Or else, I’ll feed you to the insects.”

Qi Yong’s smile froze. He looked down at the tiny red mark on his hand, then burst into laughter. “Interesting, interesting. You’re just like your brother.” Leaning in, he whispered by Beigong Qiyi’s ear, “Did you know that, in his youth, Beigong Juechen wore this very face as he paved a path of corpses and blood to the summit of the martial world? With this very face, he drenched the Palace of a Hundred Fiends in blood, killing the previous master, Ao Haojun… Such a powerful and beautiful man—it makes the blood boil…”

Qi Yong licked his lips, a strange smile on his face.

Ice cold settled over Beigong Qiyi’s stunning features. He shoved Qi Yong away and said with a laugh, “If that’s the case, why don’t you try it and see if he’ll cool your fire?”

This time, Qi Yong truly laughed, reaching out to pat Beigong Qiyi’s cheek in mockery. “Be sure to give my regards to your brother.” With that, he vanished.

Beigong Qiyi narrowed his eyes and glanced at the chaotic crowd below. Suddenly, he smiled.

In that instant, the myriad lights of the world faded to mere backdrop. Between heaven and earth, only that pale yellow figure remained, with brilliant eyes, a crimson mark at the brow, and a smile that outshone all others.

All the splendors of the mortal world paled beside that single drop of cinnabar between his brows.

From that day forth, the peerless young lord became renowned across the land.