Chapter 6: The Peach Blossom Calamity

The rarity of a nine-tailed cat demon was something the Old Man of the Moon had heard of, but when he first saw Lan Li beneath that peach tree, ripples of emotion he could not suppress stirred within his heart. He felt an uncontrollable pity for Lan Li, unable to bear seeing him in such a plight, and wished only for him to be well.

With this sentiment in mind, he took Lan Li into the Pavilion of Longing, treating him as one would a family member. In his eyes, Lan Li was like a child—and in truth, it was much the same, for Lan Li’s sea of consciousness was damaged, leaving him little different from a young boy.

The Old Man of the Moon found it hard to believe that after just a short time together, he had developed such selfish thoughts: how wonderful it would be if Lan Li could stay by his side forever, remaining just like a child for all time.

Deep down, he felt that once Lan Li regained his senses, he would naturally choose to leave. He knew himself to be a dull man, his daily routine monotonous and tiresome; why would Lan Li ever wish to stay? Such a choice would be nothing but natural.

Yet, as they spent more time together, he became increasingly afraid of facing a lucid Lan Li. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say he was afraid of facing himself in the presence of a lucid Lan Li. Yue Wuyan had presided over the Pavilion of Longing for countless years; if anyone in the Heavenly Realm knew those thousands of red threads better than he, the answer was certain: there was no one else.

As the Old Man of the Moon, Yue Wuyan knew better than anyone the emotional entanglements of the mortal world and beyond. It was precisely because he understood them so well that he was afraid. He could not allow personal feelings to cloud his judgment in his official duties. Furthermore, in the current Heavenly Realm, being discovered in a relationship with a demon or a member of the same sex would result in capital punishment. Such consequences were burdens he could not bear, and Lan Li even less so.

The time during which Lan Li remained unaware felt to him like a loan from the heavens—each day borrowed was a day gained—but borrowed things must eventually be returned. No one could avoid it. Once the heavens reclaimed everything, he would still be the Old Man of the Moon, and Lan Li would still be Lan Li. Nothing would change, and no one would be different—even though he had long sensed the brief moments when Lan Li had awakened, and even though he had already stumbled upon Lan Li’s conversations with that old ghost.

The legendary Old Man of the Moon, the so-called Yue Wuyan, was nothing but a selfish, self-interested monster. Even if he had known everything from the start, he would still pretend it never happened. He was merely a minor figure in the Heavenly Realm, and Lan Li was but a small demon; such an outcome was best for them both.

At times, he envied the old ghost’s reckless abandon, but not everyone possessed that kind of strength, in any sense of the word.

Lan Li had been there for some time and found that Yue Wuyan was indeed a very uninteresting person. His attire rarely changed; even today, he wore the pristine white formal robes bestowed upon the Pavilion of Longing by the Heavenly Realm, with the same peach-wood hairpin in his hair.

On Yue Wuyan, the clothes looked impeccably neat and clean, while on himself, they would wrinkle in no time. Yue Wuyan’s daily schedule was also excessively rigid; he did the same things at the same times, day after day.

His manner of doing things was so meticulous it bordered on pedantic. One could infer his character from his appearance: Yue Wuyan was just like that—a man of perfect balance, where one part less would be a pity, and one part more would be too much. His features were exactly that: just right.

They were neither too effeminate nor too masculine; he was as fresh as a spring shoot after the rain, and as lingering as the aftertaste of fine tea. A fleeting glance might fail to capture his charm, but look a little longer, and one would gradually begin to savor his essence.

Lan Li hid to the side, spying on every movement, every subtle expression of Yue Wuyan, who remained oblivious. At that moment, Yue Wuyan was troubled by something else.

Ever since the peach tree of that old ghost had first shown signs of life, he had been keeping a close watch, fearing he might miss something. Yet now, he wished he had missed it, seen nothing, and known nothing. After all, no matter who you were, having your fatal weakness discovered by someone unrelated was never a good thing.

Yue Wuyan looked with a furrowed brow at the peach tree, which had now been reborn and was slowly growing. The faint red threads that had once been elusive were now clearly visible. What was to be done? The old ghost’s red thread was, in fact, an almost impossible hollow thread.

Yue Wuyan’s mood was complex. He had only ever seen these hollow threads in books. They had a rather elegant alias: "The Peach Blossom Tribulation."

Since it was called a tribulation, it was naturally nothing pleasant. "The Peach Blossom Tribulation" was also known as the "Unsolvable Fate"—a romance doomed to have no result, because from the very moment it began, it was destined to end in nothingness.

Having managed the Pavilion of Longing for so long, this was the first time he had encountered such a lethal thread, and by such a coincidence, he was acquainted with its owner. It was said that the old ghost was cunning and treacherous, capable of peering into heavenly secrets and calculating the future. Did the old ghost know of this tribulation?

Tsk, the will of heaven was truly unfathomable. Regardless, he had no right to intervene. Yue Wuyan sighed inwardly. Let it be, let it be; he would just watch for now. The old ghost was no ordinary person, after all; surely, nothing too catastrophic would happen!

Even with this thought, Yue Wuyan felt a trace of panic. After a quick inspection, he did not linger; there were still plenty of matters awaiting him at the Pavilion of Longing.

After Yue Wuyan left, Lan Li walked up to the peach tree. Having stood here for so long, what secret could this tree hold? Lan Li frowned, his fingertips brushing against the red thread. His body shuddered violently, and images flashed before his eyes. The person in those visions was none other than the Ghost Sovereign who had helped him before. Could this tree belong to the Ghost Sovereign? Yue Wuyan’s face had looked so grim just moments ago—what was hidden in this tree? Should he go and inform him?

Heavenly Realm, Celestial Fox Clan.

In the grand hall, after much deliberation, the elders finally reached a decision regarding Bai Lian’s secluded cultivation.

It was rumored that the ghost mask contained a small world with infinite mysteries. If their Crown Prince, Bai Lian, were fated to enter the mask to cultivate, it would on one hand neutralize an external source of instability, and on the other, allow his cultivation to improve significantly. It was a perfect, two-fold solution; under the current circumstances, it could not be better.

The Fox Emperor, who had been sitting quietly to the side, nodded in agreement. Secluded cultivation should be handled as such. He remembered that in the place where the mask was stored, there was an ancient text containing records about it. He thought that within those pages, he might find the method to enter that small world.