Chapter 1: A Calm and Happy Day

Mu Ran lay in bed, eyes tightly shut, brows furrowed, unconsciously clutching the blanket.
She was deeply trapped in a nightmare and could not escape.
In the dream, she saw many cultivators holding magical treasures and weapons, saying things like “kill this little demon.”
Her husband was badly injured, and when a long sword was about to pierce his chest, she rushed forward and blocked the sword, dying a miserable death as well.
“Husband, you must live on well.”
Leaving these last words, she breathed her last.
In his grief, her husband forcibly tore off one of his own arms and cast a forbidden technique, retaining a tiny wisp of her soul before it dissipated between heaven and earth.
Amid a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, the blood-covered man held her cold body, lowered his eyes, and said softly, “I won’t let you leave me.”
For some reason, the pain in the dream was especially intense. Mu Ran suddenly opened her eyes and sat up in bed. She gasped for air and took a while to recover, only then realizing that she was covered in a layer of cold sweat.
The moment she woke up, the things in the dream gradually blurred, but she knew she had had a nightmare, and she still remembered that palpitation that came from her very soul.
Muran was somewhat flustered. She felt for a silver bell placed on the bedside table. Regardless of it being the middle of the night, she channeled a faint trace of spiritual power into it. The bell glimmered with specks of silver light, and soon a familiar voice came through.
“Ranran, what’s wrong?”
Muran sniffled, her voice low and hoarse. “I had a nightmare.”
“Don’t be afraid. Nightmares are the opposite of reality.”
In the room lit by candlelight, Muran curled her body into a ball, looking very pitiful.
When she was little, she had unfortunately been captured by a demonic cultivator to be used for pill refinement. Fortunately, the people who came to rescue her arrived in time, and she was not thrown into the alchemy furnace to become a pill, but because she had hit her head, she lost part of her memories.
It was also from that time on that she developed a fear of the dark, and even at night she had to keep a small lamp lit.
Cangshu Bai had deliberately stayed with her until she fell asleep before heading out to take care of business, but he hadn’t expected her to wake up again partway through. Fortunately, Mu Ran always had a head full of whimsical ideas, and when she had nothing to do, she liked to tinker with little gadgets.
This little bell that could transmit voices was one she had made—one for her, one for Cangshu Bai. It was quite convenient for keeping in touch.
Mu Ran hugged her knees, staring at the little bell, her tone clingy and coaxing. “Jinzhi, when will you be done and come back?”
Jinzhi was Cangshu Bai’s courtesy name.
Cangshu Bai said, “Soon.”
Mu Ran and Cangshu Bai were both just low-level cultivators with meager cultivation. Mu Ran occasionally took on work at the workshops in town, while Cangshu Bai was a doctor at the town’s medical clinic and sometimes had to go up the mountain late at night to gather medicinal herbs.
From the other end of the bell, faint “wu wu” noises could be heard.
Mu Ran asked with concern, “Jinzhi, are you all right over there? You haven’t run into any demon beasts, have you?”
“I’m fine, don’t worry.”
“I think I heard someone else’s voice on your end.”
“It’s just Boss Hu talking. We came across a rather nice herb, and he’s quite taken with it.”
Murong muttered, “All right. It’s so dark out there, and I’ve heard that demonic cultivators have been killing people left and right lately. Be careful.”
He let out a low chuckle. “Mm. If you’re scared, take out the talismans I put in the cabinet and use them.”
“No. Those talismans are so expensive. I have to save them for when it really matters.”
After Murong left her family, they no longer had their family’s support, so naturally they didn’t have much money on hand either. She had no idea where Cang Shubai had bought a whole pile of top-grade talismans capable of protecting one’s life, and unless it was a matter of life and death, she certainly wasn’t willing to bring them out to use.
Murong said, feigning ease, “All right, I’m fine now. You’re right—nightmares and reality are opposites. I’m not scared. Jinzhi, I’m going back to sleep. Be careful out there.”
Cang Shubai said gently, “Okay.”
The bell returned to its dim, lusterless appearance. Mu Ran put the bell back, and then heard the sound of wind outside the window again. A tree branch struck the window, making quite a noise.
The shadows of the trees swayed, like a ferocious beast baring its fangs and brandishing its claws.
Mu Ran lifted the blanket and covered herself from head to toe, trembling.
In the mansion at night, the wind howled.
Amid a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, the wind, mixed with the smell of blood, spread its chill in all directions. Frost rapidly spread, freezing everything around.
The man in blue held the now silent bell in his hand, and the tenderness between his brows slowly faded.
He stepped on an unidentified skeleton that had turned into an ice sculpture, lowered his dark red eyes, looked at the middle-aged man ahead whose leg bones were broken, and asked calmly, “Where is the Hongmeng Glazed Lamp?”
Enduring the pain, the middle-aged man said, “The Hongmeng Glazed Lamp is the Cangshu family’s greatest treasure. How could it possibly be given to a demon who betrayed his clan!”
Suddenly, the corpse beneath his feet shattered, turning into icy mist and vanishing completely.
“Dalong!” The middle-aged man was overcome with grief as he watched his eldest son’s body cease to exist.
In but a short time, the Cangshu family had already become a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. No one had expected that the good-for-nothing they had once regarded as trash, to be bullied at will, would one day actually return.
Over the years, no one knew what fortuitous encounter he had obtained, but his strength had reached a terrifying level.恐怕 only the ancestral elder of the main family could suppress this youth.
The cultivation world is a place where the weak are prey to the strong. If one’s strength is inferior to others, sects and families can be wiped out overnight.
“I’ll ask one more time—where is the Primordial Glazed Lamp?”
At that moment, another young man lying on the ground cried out. It turned out that one of his arms had been severed, and the wound was dripping with blood.
The middle-aged man shouted, “Erlang!”
That foot stepped on Erlang’s head again. Erlang’s face scraped against the ground, and soon half of it was a bloody mess.
“You should know, I’m still in a hurry to get home, and my patience is limited.”
The middle-aged man: “Cangshu Bai, you’re from the Cangshu family too. Why must you hunt us all down!”
“Is that so?” Cangshu Bai said indifferently. “My parents suffered a backlash while raising demonic beasts for the Cangshu family and needed spirit stones for treatment. Did the Cangshu family contribute even a single cent? When my mother was gravely ill, she knelt and begged you to take me in for the sake of our shared Cangshu blood. You did keep me—but only to make me feed for the demonic beasts.”
Cangshu Bai said, “Back then I was less skilled than others, so it was only fitting that I was bullied. Now that I have power and can repay blood with blood, it is only fitting that you endure it.”
The middle-aged man was Cangshu Yuan, the head of the Cangshu family. Once upon a time, how glorious he had been—with a single word, he could decide the life or death of the family’s “useless trash.” How could he ever have imagined that one day, the very person he regarded as “trash” would bring about the destruction of his entire family?
Erlang lay on the ground, weeping bitterly. “Father, save me…”
Corpses piled up like mountains all around. Now Cangshu Yuan had only Erlang left—his sole remaining bloodline.
Cangshu Yuan knew there was no escape. Gritting his teeth, he said, “I can give you the Hongmeng Glazed Lamp, but you must promise to let Erlang go!”
Cangshu Bai withdrew his foot and said, “Agreed.”
Erlang breathed a sigh of relief.
Cangshu Yuan summoned his own soul and called forth a lotus lamp pure white throughout. Before dying, he said, “Cangshu Bai, with all the gods as witness, you promised to spare Erlang. You must not… break your word…”
His body collapsed, eyes open, and he was silent and still.
The lamp’s light was soft, and wherever it shone, all evil was purged. More than that, the lamp’s greatest power was to nourish souls and help stabilize one’s foundation. With the Glazed Lamp, cultivation time could be halved, and breakthroughs became easy.
Erlang cast a hateful glance at the man in blue robes, then scrambled up from the ground and fled into the distance.
Cangshu Bai lowered his eyes to the lamp in his hand, fairly satisfied. Then he raised his gaze slightly.
An intensely cold chill emerged abruptly like a swimming fish, soundlessly burrowing into Erlang’s flesh and freezing his blood to the bone.
Erlang’s fleeing steps froze dead in place; before even a scream could spill from his throat, his whole body turned into an ice sculpture coated in white frost. He said with difficulty, “Cangshu Bai… you broke your word…”
“I did promise to let you go, but I never promised on behalf of anything else that it would let you go.”
The fish formed as if from congealed frost and snow swam back and slipped into its master’s sleeve.
Cangshu Bai turned around. The night wind was bleak and cold, his sleeves fluttering. The ends of his blue-black hair swayed gently with his steps, outlining his fine figure—broad shoulders and a narrow waist—like a clear breeze and a bright moon, visible but beyond reach.
A faint “crack” sounded, and the figure that had become an ice sculpture began to shatter inch by inch from the fingertips, finally scattering into a pile of cold, fine powder on the ground; one gust of wind and it was gone without a trace.
Wind slipped in through the gap in the window and blew out the candle flame.
Murran lay on the bed, curled up in a ball under the covers, her eyes wide and miserable, unable to fall asleep no matter what.
She quietly lifted a slit in the blanket. It was pitch dark, which made her feel even more wretched, and she agonized over whether to get out of bed and turn on the light.
Suddenly, points of light spilled back in.
Murran was lifted up, blanket and all.
“I’m back.”
It was a familiar voice.
Murran poked her head out from under the blanket. Seeing the familiar face, her brows curved and she smiled brightly. “Jinzhi!”
Reassured, she wriggled out of the blanket, spread her arms, and lunged toward him, pressing herself into his embrace.
Cangshu Bai was much taller than her. As he lowered his hand to gently pat her back, he could almost half-wrap her whole body in his arms, shutting out even the chill of the deep night.
“The wind is a bit strong tonight. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have gone out tonight.”
Mu Ran shook her head and lifted her face, her eyes bright and sparkling. “Jinzhi went out to earn money and support the family. I understand. It’s not your fault—it’s just that I’m timid, and I couldn’t help disturbing you while you were busy.”
“It’s not a disturbance.” He lifted her chin and gently placed a kiss at the corner of her lips, reluctant to pull away, murmuring against her lips, “No matter when, if you come to me, I’m always happy.”
Mu Ran raised her hands and looped them around his neck, her long hair falling loose. With no makeup on, when she looked at him, her smile was still as bright and radiant as ever.
Cangshu Bai couldn’t help himself—the corners of his lips curved up along with hers. He stroked the long hair at the back of her head; the soft touch was like touching a cloud.
Mu Ran noticed there was an extra glazed lamp on the table. She pressed her lips together and said, “You’ve been buying things on impulse again.”
“This is a lamp I bought from a traveling merchant. It’s been enchanted—it can brighten or go out according to its owner’s wishes.”
Isn’t that pretty much the same as a sound-activated light?
Huh?
Mu Ran frowned slightly. What was a sound-activated light? How had she come up with such an unfamiliar term?
She came back to her senses and took Cang Shubai’s hand. “But this must be very expensive.”
Cang Shubai shook his head. “It’s just a lamp that stays lit a little longer than an ordinary one. It’s not of much use. It only cost half a spirit stone.”
Mu Ran got up, fetched her purse, then opened his big hand and placed five spirit stones in his palm.
“You’re always buying things for the house, so you definitely don’t have enough pocket money. If you go out to socialize, you can’t be short of money for meals and lose face.”
Cang Shubai gave a soft laugh. “Mm, thank you for your generosity, my lady.”
The family’s finances were in her hands. Cang Shubai never hid any private savings—however much he earned, he handed over every bit of it.
Mu Ran leaned in his arms and yawned, covering her mouth.
Cang Shubai took off his clothes and lay down, holding her. No sooner had he pulled up the quilt than she naturally nestled into his arms.
“Jinzhi, good night.”
Cang Shubai lowered his head and kissed the top of her hair. “Good night.”
Mu Ran closed her eyes comfortably and drifted into a beautiful dream.
How wonderful—today was another calm and happy day.