Chapter 109: Radiant Seton (Part 1): Wine Wine Wine Wine Wine Wine Wine Part 2

The effort was evident in the details, but it was misplaced. It did not look like a lantern at all—more like a bamboo cage for holding bugs.

“For you! I made it after hearing you were back. First time trying, so it’s not great-looking. Sorry!”

After a stint wandering outside, Qin He returned with the same breezy, moonlit brows and eyes. Her ponytail was tied high, without any hair ornaments—refreshing and clean. She took the gift, her voice steady and clear. “Thank you, Shan Shan. I prepared something for you too.”

Mu Qian Tan thought to herself: Accepting this junk? She’s too good-tempered.

Qin He carefully stowed the lantern and took a delicate scented pouch from her bosom. It jingled with the motion. “Here, see if you like it.”

“I like it, I like it!” Shang Shan snatched the gift without even looking and opened it. Inside were eight or nine bells. Holding one up to the light revealed intricate designs—animals, cloud patterns, space motifs—like tiny seashells glittering on a beach. Shaking it by the top produced a crisp, pleasing sound even better than a wind chime.

Qin He said, “It’s an accessory. Good to hang anywhere. It wards off evil.”

Mu Qian Tan glanced sideways and noticed two small silver bells hanging from the girl’s ears, flashing in the sunlight—quite lovely. If she remembered right, one of those silver bells had belonged to her sister. After her sister’s death, it had come into her possession and hung from her ear.

Shang Shan examined one, put it back, took another, and kept sighing. “These bells are all so beautiful!”

Lingdang lay on Tan Que’s knee, nibbling her food daintily. Thinking she was being called, she shifted and looked over. Noticing her gaze, Shang Shan laughed. “Yeah, you’re beautiful too! All of you are!”

Qin He also spotted the pinkish-white frog. It bowed slightly to her owner. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here in advance, so I didn’t prepare a gift for you.”

Tan Que waved it off. “Ah, no worries! I didn’t even know I was coming, haha!”

After the meal, Qin He went to wash up and take a nap to recover from the fatigue of the return journey. Shang Shan and Tan Que ran down the mountain to play wildly with their friends. Mu Qian Tan reclined in the rocking bamboo chair and glanced at Jiang Zhouyao in the other chair. She wanted to ask what Qin He had said upon her return but did not know how to broach it properly.

As if reading her mood, Jiang Zhouyao spoke first. “A’He said that incident happened too long ago. There’s no trace left to find.”

In other words, Qin He’s trip down the mountain had turned up nothing.

Mu Qian Tan withdrew her gaze. The result was within her expectations.

Jiang Zhouyao brought over a teacup and rubbed the lid along the rim. “She seems more world-weary since coming back. I asked what she plans next, and she said she wants to go out again.”

World-weary?

The word did not quite fit. Mu Qian Tan’s first mental image was of a street-wandering elder. That girl at the table earlier showed no sign of it.

As for wanting to go out again, that was understandable. Finding nothing would leave her unsatisfied; she could not give up so easily.

But Mu Qian Tan knew that no matter how many times the child tried, she would not uncover the truth. In the original book, it remained an unsolved mystery. And the one “remnant soul” who knew the answer refused to speak. If she never did, it would remain completely unknown.

Mu Qian Tan sipped her tea and set those thoughts aside for now. She suddenly realized Jiang Zhouyao was in quite the awkward spot, torn between two sides.

On one hand, she wanted her disciple Qin He to let go of hatred—or at least not let it dominate her life. On the other, she supported Qin He’s quest for vengeance. But the unclear circumstances could not fully confirm if the hatred was justified, making their relationship awkward.

Balancing both was no easy task.

The courtyard fell silent. Nothing seemed appropriate to say. Mu Qian Tan tapped her teacup without speaking.

Two days later, the four packed their luggage and prepared to depart. Tan Que stood under the grape trellis and patted her chest as if accepting a solemn mission. “Leave the flower fields to me and Lingdang!”

Lingdang squatted at her feet, with a group of little frog sisters and brothers newly recruited from Cliff Mountain behind her. They all imitated Tan Que by patting their chests and hopping around joyfully to see them off. Qin He and Jiang Zhouyao rode one immortal crane together, while Mu Qian Tan and Shang Shan rode White Pupil, flying north together.

After leaving the sect and avoiding densely populated areas, they only moved through the outside world. Along the way, aside from the dark green forests below and the white clouds above, they saw no new sights. They had to check their direction from time to time to ensure they were on course.

The master and disciple on the opposite crane could rest casually, but they did not. They sat ramrod straight, one competing with the other. Mu Qian Tan glanced over, utterly unable to understand.

She wanted to sleep all the way to the north, but she had to steer White Pupil, this blind child, so she shifted her attention to the surrounding scenery instead. Those views were novel at first but grew tiresome after a while, leaving her to endure it. She occasionally flipped through a book. When she saw Shang Shan about to doze off, she yanked her up to keep her company in staying awake.

The farther north they went, the more layers of clothing they needed. The other three, especially Shang Shan, were fine—they did not fear the cold and merely added one or two pieces. Mu Qian Tan was the special case; she had already taken out the snow-colored greatcloak she wore last year and draped it over herself. With spiritual power consumption plus insufficient rest, combined with the increasingly pale and desolate world, her complexion appeared even colder, faintly tinged with irritation.

The journey was long. It had been two days since their last stop, and Jiang Zhouyao gestured with her hand to ask if they should land. Mu Qian Tan nodded.

The two found a flat mountain hollow to descend into. Snow covered the ground here, and one step sank them up to their ankles. Not far away stood a bare rock, along with plenty of fallen branches. They gathered some dry ones, piled them together, and with great difficulty lit a fire. The group sat around it, warming some dry rations to eat.

Seeing the heavy fatigue on Mu Qian Tan’s face, Jiang Zhouyao asked, “Is Yao’e Immortal alright?”

Mu Qian Tan said, “I’m fine.”

She took a bite and glanced to the side.

The two immortal cranes nestled together to rest nearby. Comparatively, White Pupil was clearly more spirited, since all her power came from Mu Qian Tan. It was less that she had flown the whole way and more that she had flown using Mu Qian Tan’s spiritual power. These were the benefits and drawbacks of sharing spiritual power with her own little sister.

Mu Qian Tan closed her eyes to rest for a bit. She heard the sound of a pot lid opening and looked to see Qin He using an alchemy furnace filled with snow to boil water. The Pleasing Melody Sword lay at her feet, chopped wood beside it. She had even taken out the Splendid Chant Zither to play and catch birds for food. Each action was unbelievable, yet she did them as if they were perfectly natural.

Mu Qian Tan silently processed it for a moment and realized what Jiang Zhouyao meant by “world-weary.”

It was an attitude of indifference to everything after experiencing too much, even a hint of giving up. Paired with her faintly smiling yet hollow gaze, that world-weary air became evident. It seemed this trip down the mountain had dealt her a heavy blow.

Mu Qian Tan exhaled a small puff of warm air to heat her fingertips. “How was it down the mountain?”

She did not know why she asked, but she did anyway. Qin He’s water-boiling paused, her eyelashes trembled, and only after a long while did she resume. “As usual.”

The girl stubbornly refused to look at her. Mu Qian Tan hummed in acknowledgment.

“Wow!” Shang Shan pounced into the snow, flailing about in a swimming motion. She poked Qin He and held out her palm. “Look, I made one of you out of snow.”

In her palm sat a snowman with mismatched limbs that bore no resemblance to her at all. Qin He lightly laughed and took it. “Thank you.”

Shang Shan gave another to Jiang Zhouyao, who also accepted it. Finally, she scooted over to Mu Qian Tan and held out both hands. “This one’s for you.”

Sitting in her hands was not a person but a plump, adorably clumsy ice-and-snow penguin. Mu Qian Tan suddenly recalled her humiliating transformation in Pot City, her brows twitching as she kicked her away with one foot. “Get lost.”

Qin He cradled her snowman, gazing down with a faint smile, lost in thought. Jiang Zhouyao looked at her profile, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she held back.

After setting off again, about two or three days passed before their destination appeared.

It was a vast expanse of snow-capped mountains, with an opulent town built along the slopes, enclosed by tall black walls. The air carried the cold scent of snow. The four dismounted the cranes and walked on flooring paved with dark rocks, tiny specks amid a white storm.

Shang Shan rubbed her frozen cheeks. “Is this Radiant Seton?”

The Fu Clan of Source Mist resided in Radiant Palace at the Source Mist Mountains. In earlier years, they often secluded themselves, remaining quite mysterious amid much outside speculation with no consensus. After the previous clan head’s death, his wife Fu Yuzhu succeeded him and began engaging with the outside world, frequently attending important events on behalf of the clan. Seton City lay at the foot of Radiant Palace, protected by the Fu Clan, and had a century of history.