Chapter 18: Moon Elder

Shang Si’s thoughts shifted swiftly. Compared to the notion that Lu Shiyuan might not wish to remain by her side, she found it far more unbearable that the woman’s name had become fodder for mockery among these ignorant mortal cultivators—”doomed beauty,” “talent envied by the heavens,” and the like. The people close to her, Shang Si’s people—how could she tolerate such casual gossip from the likes of them?

The bonfire burned through the night, and the latter half passed in blessed peace, undisturbed by any more foolish demons.

As dawn broke, a slender beam of sunlight pierced the clouds, spilling across the fog-shrouded earth. Stone City’s gates creaked open.

Zhang Feng led his caravan inside, one cart after another. Before parting, he didn’t forget to thank Lu Shiyuan and her companion once more.

It was only after this ordeal that he truly understood: compared to lost silver or goods, nothing mattered more than one’s life.

The two parties bid farewell at the gate. Lu Shiyuan turned her gaze to Li Xiu standing nearby. With a faint smile, she approached and greeted him, her voice clear and melodious. “Senior Brother Li, are you returning to Kunlun today?”

“Yes, though not right away,” he replied. “I still need to head into the city and pick up a few things to bring back.” Perhaps still rattled by Shang Si’s deliberate intimidation the night before, faint shadows lingered under his eyes, as though he hadn’t slept a wink.

“Then we’ll travel with you,” Lu Shiyuan said. “We’re headed to Kunlun to pay a visit as well—might as well go together.” She gave him no room to refuse, settling the matter in just a few words. “Here’s the plan: you go handle your errands, and we’ll meet at Stone City’s finest restaurant around one in the afternoon.”

Only after Li Xiu had walked off did she return to Shang Si’s side.

She hadn’t paid close attention to Shang Si’s expression before, but now it was plain to see: the woman looked thoroughly disgruntled, a lingering haze of irritation clouding her features.

It was hardly surprising. Back in Yedu, Shang Si had called every shot. Yet here, just one day out, their roles had quietly reversed—and on top of that, nothing had gone smoothly. A touch of displeasure was only natural.

“Why are we going with him?” Shang Si asked before Lu Shiyuan could explain. “Kunlun’s only a few hours from here. We’d get there faster on our own.” Why wait until afternoon?

“He’s an outer disciple of the Kunlun Sect, after all,” Lu Shiyuan replied patiently, soothing her. “His introduction will spare us a lot of hassle.” She tilted her head, asking with feigned innocence, “Does A Si really dislike Senior Brother Li that much?”

At those words, Shang Si’s lovely eyes cracked open halfway. She shot the other woman a cool glance and let out a soft huff. “Indeed. I don’t like any of your senior brothers.”

She never minced words about her likes and dislikes.

With that, she strode ahead, merging into the lively bustle of Stone City’s morning market.

Lu Shiyuan’s lips curved in a smile as she hurried after her with light steps.

Before long, East Main Street boasted a striking new sight.

The pair were no ordinary folk. With their exceptional beauty and refined air, clad in flowing silk robes and crimson skirts, they cut an incongruous figure amid the smoky, everyday clamor of the market— all the more eye-catching for it. And Shang Si made no effort to blend in. Whenever something caught her eye along the way—something novel or appealing—she’d draw near for a closer look, chatting idly with the vendors.

After a few such stops, every stallholder on East Main Street knew them by sight.

“If you like it, why not buy one?” Lu Shiyuan suggested when Shang Si lingered long before a particular stall.

This was already the sixth vendor she’d browsed—an old craftswoman selling clay figurines of mythical figures. Vivid and lifelike, they grew even more exquisite once painted, and she’d already sold a good number in the short time they’d been there.

Yet at Lu Shiyuan’s words, Shang Si hesitated before awkwardly setting the figurine back down. She shook her head. “Never mind. It’s just a novelty. Child’s playthings for mortals—nothing I truly like.”

Her tone was flat, betraying no real feeling, and she soon pressed on down the crowded street.

The old woman didn’t sour at the refusal but saw her off with a cheerful wave before turning to other customers.

Lu Shiyuan watched Shang Si’s retreating figure from afar. Then, stepping forward, she picked up the very figurine the other had handled and set down a handful of silver. “Granny, I’ll take this one.”

…

It was only after walking a good distance that Shang Si realized Lu Shiyuan hadn’t followed. Unfazed, she calmly sent a voice transmission through a spirit talisman.

By the time Lu Shiyuan found her amid the street crowds, Shang Si was resting in the shade of a sprawling banyan tree before the temple.

Incense smoke curled thick from the Marriage Temple, and passersby couldn’t help stealing glances at the stunning beauty seated beneath the tree.

“Where did you disappear to?” Shang Si asked as Lu Shiyuan finally arrived, a bulging package tucked under her arm.

“I went to buy you something,” Lu Shiyuan replied, her almond eyes crinkling with a smile.

With that, she lifted a corner of the silk-wrapped bundle cradled in her arms, proudly showing off her handiwork to Shang Si. Inside were all the little trinkets Shang Si had paused to admire on their way from the city gates—clay figurines, ghost masks, pinwheel toys, and the like. A piece or two wouldn’t take up much space, but with so many, they filled an entire hefty bundle.

Shang Si stared in momentary surprise, but then another thought struck her. “Do you have any silver on you?”

“Of course,” Lu Shiyuan replied without hesitation. But as the words left her mouth, she caught the subtle shift in Shang Si’s expression.

Embarrassment and vexation flickered across her face, only to vanish in the next instant.

Lu Shiyuan saw it all clearly. She blinked, suddenly grasping the root of Shang Si’s predicament. “A Si… you’re out of money?”

“…” Shang Si pressed her lips together, silent for a long moment before finally speaking. “I left in too much of a rush this time, and I had a specific destination in mind. I never planned to linger in the Mortal Realm.”

In other words, she hadn’t brought any silver, though she had more than enough spirit stones to toss around like toys. But mortals had no idea of their value.

That explained why she’d only looked and never bought anything along the way—too proud to admit her empty pockets, let alone haggle for credit with ordinary folk.

Once she pieced it together, Lu Shiyuan let out a sudden light laugh, her lips curving into faint dimples on her cheeks. “In that case, you should have told me sooner, A Si. I could have bought them for you.”

Shang Si froze, her expression turning awkward. “You’d buy them… for me?”

There was nothing off about Lu Shiyuan’s offer, yet no one had ever said anything like that to her before.

Just like that, their roles had quietly swapped.

For some reason, the thought of a day when she could spend her own money on Shang Si made Lu Shiyuan’s curved eyes sparkle with irrepressible delight.

Having seen through Shang Si’s penniless state, Lu Shiyuan wised up from then on. She stuck to trailing behind, footing the bill without prying into what Shang Si liked or disliked.

By then, they had arrived right at the entrance to the Marriage Temple, so it would have been a shame not to go in. They bought some incense and headed inside to pay their respects.

The temple was dedicated to matters of matrimony, its incense smoke rising ceaselessly. Local folk swore by its miraculous reputation.

But once they got there, Shang Si merely lit the incense and stuck it into the burner. She didn’t kneel.

“The fates of the world are set in stone. The Immortal Realm has long perished, and Yedu lies beyond the Three Realms. Even in rebirth, no thread of marriage could bind me—let alone to this mere clay idol?” Her voice was cool and detached, her face showing not a shred of reverence for the statue. Instead, a trace of arrogance glinted in her eyes. “As if kneeling here once would grant me a match. Ridiculous.”

Her words weren’t without logic.

Still, Lu Shiyuan figured they were already there—what was the harm? She wouldn’t let it go, clutching three sticks of long incense as she knelt first on the prayer mat. She even reached out to tug at Shang Si’s sleeve, urging her on. “If you don’t pray, how do you know it won’t work? Come on, join me. Why are you always such a loner?”

“You’re not allowed to pray either!” Seeing her kneel so properly, Shang Si grew irritated.

She was seriously trying to pray for a match!

“??”

Lu Shiyuan was stunned, the three sticks of incense clutched in her hand. She couldn’t insert them, nor could she toss them away.

Her almond-shaped eyes widened as she, for once, contradicted Shang Si. “A Si, you’re being too…” overbearing.

Fine if she didn’t believe, but forbidding others from doing so?

Lu Shiyuan knew Shang Si’s temperament wasn’t new to her, though.

She frowned instinctively, about to argue further, when someone yanked her up from the mat. The lit incense sticks tumbled to the floor.

They pushed through the crowd and headed back the way they’d come. Along the way, whenever Lu Shiyuan glanced up, all she caught was Shang Si’s profile, her face stern and unyielding. Lu Shiyuan wanted to say something lighthearted to ease the tension, but Shang Si’s grim expression stopped her.

“Shang Si.” Lu Shiyuan called her name, and they finally halted.

Turning around, Shang Si’s exquisite, icy features were frosted over with displeasure. “Lu Shiyuan, let me ask you—what sort of person prays at a place like this?”

“Naturally, someone with a wish in their heart, seeking a good match and praying with sincerity,” Lu Shiyuan replied without thinking, her brows furrowed tight.

Shang Si shot back, “And are you that sort of person?”

“I…” Lu Shiyuan’s lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come.

No, she wasn’t.

For some reason, Lu Shiyuan’s earlier momentum deflated in an instant. Her gaze began to flicker evasively.

Right—she wasn’t.

She had almost forgotten she was already married!

That day, the two of them had held their grand wedding in Yedu, witnessed by Heaven, Earth, and the Three Realms. They had ascended the altar and paid their respects to their ancestors. And now, right in front of Shang Si, she was supposed to kneel and pray for another match… No matter how Lu Shiyuan looked at it, she was the one in the wrong. Not only that, it even came across as the height of greed—like savoring the meal in her bowl while eyeing the one cooking in the pot.

The thought made Lu Shiyuan’s attitude soften in an instant. The tension in her furrowed brows melted away like winter snow under the sun, a faint smile sparkling in her eyes. She deftly rephrased her unfinished words with clever finesse: “Of course not. I’ve already married you, with the Three Realms as our witness and Heaven and Earth as our matchmakers. Our fates are bound together—why would I need to kneel before some mere clay statue?”

One moment it was Heaven and Earth playing matchmaker, the next the Three Realms bearing witness—every word rang with grand magnanimity.

Yet right after she finished speaking, she lowered her gaze and secretly reached out, hooking her pinky around Shang Si’s. She gave it a gentle shake, her voice dropping to a soft, coaxing whisper: “A Si, I won’t pray anymore. Don’t be mad.”