Empress Feng was speechless.
Xiao Yunting stood up and chuckled lightly. “As for what you said earlier—that she was young and foolish and strayed down the wrong path—I don’t quite agree.”
“The path of life is like walking on glass. Everyone walks with caution. If you rush forward blindly, you’re bound to end up bloodied. Don’t talk to me about youth and inexperience—whether you understand the world or not is your business, but whether you fall or not is beyond your control.”
After all—who doesn’t walk their path through scrapes and bruises?
In his opinion, Feng Caiwei simply hadn’t fallen hard enough yet.
That’s why she would make deals with tigers—utterly ignorant of the danger to herself!
He turned to leave.
But just then, Feng Caiwei suddenly ran out from behind the screen, unable to endure it any longer, and blocked his way.
She clenched her hands so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, fresh blood dripping, but she still stared stubbornly at Xiao Yunting in front of her, eyes wide, refusing even to blink.
Empress Feng slowly exhaled and turned to look at Feng Caiwei. “Well? Didn’t you say you had to hear it for yourself? Are you finally willing to give up now?”
Give up?
Feng Caiwei’s mind was in chaos.
She was on the brink of breaking down. She stared at Xiao Yunting’s emotionless face and stiffly asked, “What exactly do I lack compared to Qi Yuan? Why her and not me?”
Xiao Yunting found the question laughable.
He didn’t even mind that the Empress had allowed Feng Caiwei to eavesdrop.
Because he had never concealed his attitude toward her.
“She never once asked me why,” Xiao Yunting took a step back, putting more distance between them, his smile faint and mocking. “Besides, Miss Feng, don’t show me that betrayed woman expression. You think I didn’t know how you climbed your way to Li Changqing?”
Now it was Feng Caiwei who took a step back.
She opened her mouth, only to see the mockery written blatantly in Xiao Yunting’s eyes.
Yes—he knew everything.
He understood it all.
All her little calculations—completely transparent to him.
Feng Caiwei stammered, “I… I just felt it was unfair. Ever since I was young, I was arranged to draw enemy fire for you, and the moment I was born there were heavenly signs… I was supposed to be the one at your side…”
Xiao Yunting coldly declined: “Miss Feng, you don’t want me—you want the Crown Prince title the Feng family always dreamed of.”
“That’s why you colluded with Qi Wang. In order to deal with me and Qi Yuan, you were willing to make a deal with the devil, weren’t you?”
Too clever—sometimes, it really does make people dull. Seeing through everything isn’t always pleasant.
He looked at her with a smile. “Miss Feng, look at you. You’ve managed to take every step exactly the wrong way. Just like today—if you hadn’t begged the Empress and hadn’t come to see me, you might’ve still kept a shred of dignity.”
With that, he stopped looking at her, brushed past her directly, and left.
Not even sparing her another glance.
It was only at that moment that Feng Caiwei truly began to feel fear. Her body trembled with sobs as she turned to look desperately at Empress Feng.
But the Empress’s gaze was cold as ice.
Feng Caiwei didn’t want to die. And it was only now that she realized—she couldn’t bear the cost of her schemes and manipulations.
Dying wasn’t as easy as she had thought.
And indeed—it really wasn’t.
By now, Qi Yuan had already arrived at the Golden Summit of Mount Ziyang.
After a fresh rain, the mountain air was even colder than usual. She climbed the long stairway step by step, slowly reaching the Daoist temple at the mountain’s peak.
Perched on the cliff, the temple clearly had an air of ancient legacy.
Following the mountain path for a while, she eventually reached the end of the trail—where the only passage forward was a narrow, moss-covered natural stone bridge suspended between cliffs.
The bridge was so narrow that even one person could barely pass.
Qi Yuan paused, then stepped forward and crossed it carefully.
On the other side, a young Daoist priest shouted in alarm: “Hey! Slow down! Are you not afraid of dying?!”
The shout startled the rest of the temple. A few moments later, three or four more novice priests came running out, eyes wide at the sight of Qi Yuan.
She had already crossed the bridge.
They were all dumbfounded. It had been years since they’d seen anyone so fearless—and it was a woman!
She hadn’t hesitated at all, just walked straight over.
Qi Yuan looked down slightly and said, “I want to see the Daoist Spiritual Master Ziyang.”
The young priest asked nervously, “Who are you?”
“Someone who needs to see him,” Qi Yuan replied simply. She pulled out a jade pendant and handed it over. “He’ll understand when he sees this.”
The boy glanced at it, still unsure, then turned and sprinted off.
Soon after, he came running back. “Miss, please come with me.”
Qi Yuan followed him into a side hall, where she saw an elderly Daoist with white hair and beard sitting on a meditation cushion. When he saw her, he raised his brows and asked, “Where is he?”
“Dead,” Qi Yuan answered just as bluntly. “He slaughtered over a thousand people at Mount Mao. Over the years, he abetted evil and caused the deaths of countless officials and civilians. I believed he had to die—so I killed him.”
The old Daoist said nothing for a long time.
After a long silence, he finally asked, “If you’ve already killed him, why did you come to see me?”
“I want you to look at my fate again,” Qi Yuan sat across from him, visibly weary. “Help me understand.”
Daoist Spiritual Master Ziyang was now truly surprised. “You killed my disciple. Why would I help you?”
“Because I believe you know I was right to do it,” Qi Yuan said calmly. “If you won’t help me, I’ll kill you too.”
…
The old Daoist suddenly let out a bark of laughter.
Then he looked at her carefully, his expression growing serious. “You are a person without fate. I cannot see your destiny for this life.”
It was as if something shattered inside her.
The stone that had been pressing on Qi Yuan’s chest for so long finally dropped.
She closed her eyes.
So it was true.
Li Changqing really had seen her fate.
“You were forcibly given a fate that defied the heavens…” the old Daoist’s expression grew more grave. “Miss… you…”
Qi Yuan suddenly opened her eyes and looked at him. “Master, is it true that your Daoist sect has a secret method to alter fate?”
But what was there to guess?
In her previous life, the Qi family had treated her like she didn’t exist.
The Xie family had only helped her because of Xiao Yunting.
Only Xiao Yunting had ever truly cared whether she lived or died.
Only him—who had studied under the Celestial Master Zhang of Mount Longhu.
Her throat tightened.
The old Daoist slowly nodded.
Qi Yuan asked, “What does it cost?”
“It’s hard to say,” Daoist Spiritual Master Ziyang shook his head. “But there must always be a price. To exchange one life for another—the price will not be small.”
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