"Snow dyes Tianshan, drifting winds stir,
Winds stir, clouds surge, praising green pines.
Green pines on stone cliffs stand a thousand years,
A thousand years of worldly affairs, all in vain."
— Prologue
When Mei Hanluo left the Luo River, he never imagined he would not be able to return, nor did he expect that Lan Ruoxue would come looking for him regardless of the cost. Thus, he had departed without a single lingering concern.
He realized he was poisoned in an unassuming tea shed. After finishing his tea, he sensed something was amiss. Yet the tea itself was normal; what felt strange was a faint, elusive fragrance in the air—a rare scent he knew all too well.
Mei Hanluo instantly recognized this as a poison prepared specifically for him. As the God of Flowers, he was acutely sensitive to floral aromas, which was why no one else could detect this scent or be easily affected by it. His tea was not poisoned; the poison was on the lid of the cup, imperceptible to the touch, yet claiming its victim the moment it was brushed against.
Mei Hanluo gave a bitter smile. To think he would ever be reduced to such a plight. It was only because he had depleted too much spiritual energy healing Lan Ruoxue's eyes that he had been poisoned and found it difficult to suppress.
Mei Hanluo knew the poison he had contracted was Datura, fiercely potent, capable of slaying immortals and slaughtering gods. He also guessed who had administered it, and he knew full well he would not lower himself to seek an antidote from this person; he simply could not be bothered to waste time on such matters. He continued his travels through the mountains and rivers, hoping to find a pleasant resting place to spend his remaining days.
Datura had not waited for Mei Hanluo, which was within her expectations. She was already scheming how to quietly rid herself of this thorn in her side, and to do so without leaving a trace. With a casual flick, she plucked a white lotus and blew a breath upon it. The lotus blossomed at her fingertips and instantly withered, dissolving into the air in the span of a single heartbeat.
Mei Hanluo was a deity whose detachment bordered on the transcendent; if he chose not to care about something, he truly would not care. Yet he was not cold-blooded; if he decided to intervene, he would carry it through to the very end. That was why he had healed Lan Ruoxue's eyes—she was a unique herb that had caught his eye, a spirit he had forged with his own hands. He was a stubborn god of sharp contrasts, knowing neither grey nor compromise. Once he made a decision, it was final.
Lan Ruoxue had also set out alone. Not wishing to worry Alin, she had left a note and slipped away quietly. She had underestimated Alin's supernatural powers; even without following her directly, Alin could easily track her whereabouts. With so many flying insects about, finding one to trail her and report back was effortless. Lately, however, she had been plagued by a persistent sense of unease, her eyelids twitching incessantly as her intuition warned her that something ill was about to transpire.
Lan Ruoxue felt a strong conviction that she ought to make a trip to the Luo River, and so she went. Regardless of whether she could find him, she went without a single backward glance, unwilling to harbor regrets. A dark premonition weighed upon her: something had happened to Mei Hanluo.
Even knowing that finding him would never lead to them being together—that did not matter. At least she could watch him remain the universally revered God of Flowers, while she lingered as the most devout among the multitudes. She was willing, even if it meant merely catching a glimpse of him from afar. She needed him to live on safely and unharmed, even if it cost her everything.
Such fierce and turbulent emotions stirred within the mind of the woman in purple for the very first time.
Alin certainly did not care where Mei Hanluo had gone or whether he had met with an accident, but she cared deeply for Lan Ruoxue. Furthermore, she loved meddling in other people's affairs and joining in the excitement. In any case, once she received the news, she went off to see the spectacle.
By the time she reached the Luo River, night had already fallen. Mei Hanluo was nowhere to be found; there was only the weeping of the river water, seemingly mocking the woman in purple for her futile tenacity.
Lan Ruoxue sat despondently by the bank, staring blankly at the flowing water. As the night grew deep, a sudden chill washed over her, the dampness of the riverside moistening the hem of her skirt. Just as she moved to stand up, she noticed an object drifting along the river's current.
It was a white lotus flower, breathtakingly beautiful yet emanating an ominous aura. The Luo River was not a place where white lotus flowers belonged, yet it had appeared out of thin air, gliding slowly toward her like a white ghost. She reached out her hand to touch it, only to be yanked violently backward. "Don't touch it! It's poisonous!"
The one who pulled her back was, naturally, Alin. Having hurried over, Alin had caught sight of the woman in purple sitting in a daze by the bank. As for the white lotus, she had heard Mo Ran speak of it: it was Datura, a remarkably dangerous token.
"Don't touch it. Follow it instead. Someone wants to see you; it's guiding your way." Alin pulled Lan Ruoxue to her feet. Sure enough, the white lotus emitted a bright glow, pointing toward the upper reaches of the Luo River and illuminating the path forward in the dark night—though the end of that road might well prove to be a bottomless abyss.
The wind howled like sweeping clouds, and the white lotus vanished at the far end of the river.
"It seems we'll have to jump down." Alin cast a calm glance at the swirling vortex that had formed where the white lotus disappeared in the churning river water, her tone equally serene.
Lan Ruoxue nodded, without a moment's hesitation.
"Wait, have you two lost your minds?" A young girl in red suddenly appeared by the riverside.
"Manzhu, what are you doing here?" Alin arched an eyebrow.
Lan Ruoxue looked in astonishment at the flower spirit who existed only in legends, marveling at Alin's social circle. It was clear that Alin and Manzhu, the spirit of the Manjusaka, were old acquaintances.
"Never mind why I'm here! I only came to tell you that you cannot jump down there. That is Datura poison; it's not something you can handle." Manzhu stamped her foot in agitation. If not for Alin, why would she have ever left the Netherworld to run such an unrewarding errand?
"And what about Mei Hanluo? Do you know where he went?" Alin cut straight to the point, abandoning any debate over whether they should stay or leave.
"He... why are you looking for him?" A flicker of panic crossed Manzhu's eyes.
"You know, don't you? If you know, won't you please tell us?" Lan Ruoxue looked at Manzhu, her voice laden with entreaty.
Seeing that Manzhu remained silent, Alin rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter if you don't say; we'll figure it out sooner or later. Since you won't tell us, we'll just have to jump down." With that, she grabbed Lan Ruoxue and made a show of heading toward the river.
"Alright, alright! Do you really have to provoke me like this?" Manzhu sighed helplessly, knowing her good friend's stubborn temper all too well. Since she couldn't stop them, she would help as much as she could; as for the outcome, that would have to be left to the heavens.
*That wretched Mei Hanluo,* Manzhu thought with a hidden flash of resentment, *to think he could inadvertently drag so many unrelated people into this mess.* She didn't care about anyone else; as long as Alin stopped throwing tantrums at her, she would consider herself blessed. In truth, Manzhu understood that Mei Hanluo had never intended to drag innocent people into this, especially Lan Ruoxue, but he had severely underestimated Lan Ruoxue's obsession with him.
"I don't know where he is right now. All I know is that after he left the Luo River, he headed west. Who knows, maybe he wanted to see what the place where the sun sets looks like!" Manzhu spread her hands, indicating that was the extent of her knowledge.
Yet Alin felt there was a hidden meaning in Manzhu's words—the sun sinking in the west was hardly a good omen; Mei Hanluo was most likely in deep trouble.
Seeing Alin frown, Manzhu's heart fluttered nervously, wondering if her words had conveyed something they shouldn't have. Alin's imagination was always wildly active, and for the first time, she felt this might not bode well. *Sigh...*
After Alin and Lan Ruoxue had walked away, Manzhu lingered by the riverbank for a moment. She wondered if this counted as helping Mei Hanluo, and whether she would run into trouble for meddling with Datura's affairs—*Oh well, I've already delivered the message the Demon Lord asked me to pass along. Surely, as a lowly flower spirit, I'm not worth the Buddhist realm taking action against me. Datura may be eaten up with jealousy, but she wouldn't stoop to tangling with the Netherworld either.*
When they finally found Mei Hanluo, his condition was already grim. Although outwardly there was no sign of how much pain he was in, Lan Ruoxue could feel his frailty; his once peerless and dazzling grace had dimmed considerably. From the moment he was poisoned until now, quite a few days had passed. No matter how formidable one's spiritual energy, it could not withstand such a constant drain. Even though Mei Hanluo had tried his utmost to avoid everyone and struggled to put on a facade of nonchalance, he still could not escape or hide from it. In the darkness, fate held sway; what use was evasion?
Watching the two of them silently gazing at each other, Alin let out a sigh. She had never seen Mei Hanluo like this. "To think you too can feel fear and worry, and lose your composure... This is truly..." Alin couldn't finish her sentence.
"What is it?" Mei Hanluo sighed. "Although I am a deity and appear detached from worldly desires on the surface, there are times when I am plagued by internal contradictions because I know my own weaknesses. Once I begin to care, it becomes all the easier to sink deep into the mire, unable to extricate myself. In truth, I..."
Lan Ruoxue gently supported Mei Hanluo, feeling his somewhat chilling body temperature, and unconsciously her eyes filled with hot tears—*He truly cares about me.*
If he cared, then everything was worth it. Her desperate, reckless pursuit had finally found a harbor.
Mei Hanluo looked earnestly at Lan Ruoxue, and finally, with some difficulty, raised his hand to gently wipe away the tears on her face. Those tears were warm and crystal-clear, yet they nearly scorched his heart. This was a maiden he had forged with his own hands; though a spirit, she possessed a beauty brimming with vitality. He had believed he held no selfish attachment toward her, yet the moment he saw her tears, he understood he had already sunk past redemption. No matter how he tried to hide, she followed him without a single word of complaint or regret. Since it was ultimately inescapable, he would accept it. Even if his days were numbered, they would stay together for as long as they could!
Having reached the turning point of destiny, his mind cleared—when a person was driven to desperation and forced to abandon everything that could be cast aside, what was left that they couldn't let go of? There was nothing left to fear; what remained was only to cherish. Thus, he decided he would stay with Lan Ruoxue. Regardless of the outcome, he asked only that she not shed a single tear for the rest of this life.
Lan Ruoxue was stunned. In her memory, Mei Hanluo was a deity almost entirely devoid of mortal passions and desires. Yet now, he was looking at her with such an expression, even wiping away her tears. It was an utterly unbelievable thing—the gesture was so intimate that it made her feel as though she were dreaming.
Seeing Lan Ruoxue stand frozen, Mei Hanluo lowered his hand and couldn't help offering a wry smile. "What is it? Am I truly so terrifying that I've frightened you witless?"
"To think that someone usually so ice-cold could utter such sweet words without even blushing," Alin muttered to herself, having seen enough. *Well, there's nothing left for me here; I refuse to stick around and be a third wheel.*
Seeing Alin leave, Lan Ruoxue made no move to give chase, understanding her dear friend's good intentions—Alin wanted to leave her and Mei Hanluo alone. Reunited after a long separation, the heart that had hung suspended in her chest finally settled down for the moment.
She sat quietly with Mei Hanluo for a while, still finding it hard to believe. She had imagined that even if she found him, Mei Hanluo would continue to evade matters of mortal romance. She never expected him to accept her. What on earth had happened to make him act so out of character? Even as overflowing happiness filled her heart, a faint shadow of worry lingered.
While her thoughts drifted, a hand reached out to draw her gently against his shoulder. Lan Ruoxue looked at those slender, jade-like fingers, recalling the first time she had seen him sitting by a stone table holding a teacup. A myriad of emotions washed over her, and instinctively, she leaned closer, resting her head against his shoulder. His white robes, pure as snow, emitted a faint fragrance of plum blossoms. The scent had a calming effect, sweeping away the bone-deep fatigue she had carried for so long. Letting out a peaceful sigh, she suddenly felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her, and after leaning against him for a short while, she fell fast asleep.
Watching the serene sleeping face of the woman in purple, Mei Hanluo reached out to gently smooth away a stray lock of hair from her ear, savoring this fleeting moment of peace. Remaining sleepless through the night, he sat motionless, gazing out at the starlit sky without the slightest disturbance to his composure, looking like a flawless, exquisitely carved statue.
When the first ray of morning light fell upon her, Lan Ruoxue awoke. She had always been a light sleeper, let alone while resting against someone else, yet this had been the most restful sleep of her entire life, and that embrace was far too warm, surpassing any comfortable bed. She did not open her eyes right away, fearing she might be dreaming.
Mei Hanluo knew she was awake but chose not to expose her. Recovering his senses, he realized his sitting posture had made him somewhat numb. This was the first time he had ever served as someone's pillow, and surprisingly, the feeling wasn't bad at all. Perhaps this was the fulfillment brought by possession; after ascending to divinity, he had thought he would never experience such simple pleasures again.
Lan Ruoxue rubbed gently against his shoulder, finally confirming she was not dreaming. She opened her eyes, sat up, and as she raised her head, found Mei Hanluo looking at her with a half-smile. A wave of crimson flushed across her cheeks, and she hurriedly lowered her head, twisting her sleeves together as her heart skipped a beat.
"You're awake. Did you sleep well?" Seeing the purple-clad woman's embarrassment, Mei Hanluo felt the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile, his voice carrying a rare trace of warmth, though he himself remained unaware of it.
Flattered and surprised, Lan Ruoxue could only nod, momentarily forgetting how to reply. Mei Hanluo simply assumed that because her voice had only recently healed, she was still unaccustomed to speaking aloud.
With dawn not yet fully breaking, Mei Hanluo pulled Lan Ruoxue to her feet—if they sat any longer, they really would turn into statues. "Where would you like to go? Shall we find something to eat for breakfast?" Although missing meals posed no problem for immortals, he couldn't think of anything else to do at this hour.
"Breakfast?" Lan Ruoxue was momentarily stunned. Wasn't that Alin's favorite question? Had it not been for the unmistakable face of the man before her, she would have almost thought Alin was playing a trick on her. Could Mei Hanluo have been possessed by Alin?!
"That's right, breakfast!" Mei Hanluo finally couldn't help laughing, raising an eyebrow. "I noticed when you were with that little girl Alin..."
Alin always loved preparing food in various clever ways. Lan Ruoxue had never imagined that Mei Hanluo would pay attention to such minor details, and a sudden warmth bloomed in her heart. Having breakfast—this truly was the most mundane and lifelike of trivial affairs.
Thus, amidst the thin morning mist, two figures walked one after the other toward the small town.