Chapter 42: The Name on the Plaque and a Desperate Plea

“Mùyún.”

Qíngyǔ set her brush to the plaque, and three large, inky characters materialized on its empty surface.

She had not wished to name the temple directly after ‘rain,’ as terms like ‘gloomy’ or ‘thunder’ felt too somber; thus, she had chosen the essence of ‘clouds.’

“Mm, this is quite good.”

The plaque now bore its inscription, and the Little Girl in the courtyard, seeing her mother finish, quickly pattered over, throwing herself into Qíngyǔ’s embrace.

“Mama is so amazing!”

“Not really.”

Qíngyǔ spoke the truth, gently pinching the girl’s cheek.

Though her recent actions appeared formidable, she had merely been leveraging a vast, accumulated momentum to act with such freedom.

“Sir Yang, you and everyone else should hurry inside to take shelter from the rain; catching a chill later would be quite troublesome.”

“No worries, no worries, my body is sturdy enough.”

Yang Qi, seizing the opportunity, and seeing that the danger had passed, cast a few more glances into the distance before swiftly leading his group back into Mùyún Temple.

The rain poured down incessantly, striking the green tiles like jade beads and cascading in continuous white lines from the eaves, making it impossible to predict when it might cease.

“Good girl, you should go inside too.”

Qíngyǔ ruffled the Little Girl’s hair and patted her shoulder, gesturing towards the courtyard.

“No, I want to stay with Mama!”

The girl vigorously shook her head, displeased.

She hadn’t absorbed Qíngyǔ’s ‘spiritual energy’ for nearly half an hour, and at this rate, her cultivation would surely regress!

“You silly goose, Mama still has things to do; I’ll give you a hug tonight.”

Qíngyǔ emphasized her words, and the Little Girl, knowing her mother wasn’t joking, reluctantly took one last deep ‘breath’ before turning to leave.

“You promised! Mama isn’t allowed to lie!”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

Qíngyǔ found herself caught between laughter and tears; this child spoke as if she frequently deceived her, when in truth, Qíngyú had always granted her every wish.

Well, unless the Little Girl asked her to pluck the moon from the sky… er… at least not for now.

Shaking her head, Qíngyǔ cast the strange thoughts from her mind.

She couldn’t explain why she had become increasingly doting towards this little one lately.

This was detrimental; it would cause the child to lose independence, a habit she needed to change.

***

Having pacified the Little Girl, Qíngyǔ turned her attention to the household guards still prostrate on the ground, most of whom were now thoroughly drenched.

Many among them shivered uncontrollably, yet remained rigidly pressed against the earth.

Activating her ink-wash vision, she saw only ordinary black and white before her.

The blood-like malevolent aura lingered further away.

Indeed, after the Young Lady’s judgment earlier—even if it hadn’t been directed at them—the mere fact that this group still lay prone here spoke volumes.

“Bind yourselves, then form a line and enter to shelter from the rain.”

Qíngyǔ spoke calmly, her figure gliding past the group as she sought out Daoist Feng.

“Given that you had no time to commit evil, you are spared the death penalty, but a living punishment is unavoidable.

Go, take shelter from the rain now, and preserve your useful bodies for your retribution.”

Jí Yào remained hidden in the branches of a nearby tree, watching Qíngyǔ effortlessly settle most of the affair.

His admiration was a complex, inexpressible emotion.

As his thoughts churned, he saw the Young Lady about to depart once more, and quickly flipped down from the tree.

“Cangxuan, I’ll take responsibility for leading them in!”

“Very well.”

Qíngyǔ’s voice, though muffled by the rain, was still remarkably clear.

The household guard who had been the first to lay down his weapon and the first to declare his unwillingness to retreat, heard her words and looked up, almost disbelievingly.

Yet, amidst the rain, the green-robed figure was nowhere to be seen.

“What are you gawking at? Get inside!”

Even Jí Yào, despite his sturdy build, was growing uncomfortable under the heavy downpour.

Seeing that this group, having been pardoned, still hadn’t moved, he couldn’t help but urge them on.

“Thank you, Milord! Thank you, Immortal!”

The leading household guard abruptly knelt, kowtowing several times with resounding thuds, startling Jí Yào, who quickly dodged aside—he remembered Qíngyǔ disliked people kowtowing.

“Quick, quick, no kowtowing, no nonsense, just honestly go inside and shelter from the rain.

Don’t let me see any of you committing evil.”

As he spoke, Jí Yào’s steel saber clanged from its sheath, his tone resolute.

“Otherwise, I will show no mercy.”

“How could we abandon the Immortal’s grace of rebirth?”

The leading household guard struggled to his feet, wiping the blood from his forehead with rainwater, a mixture of tears and laughter in his expression.

As he spoke, the surrounding twenty-odd men helped each other up, offering another chorus of thanks and promises.

Finally, they each bound themselves with ropes, then lined up and followed Jí Yào into the courtyard.

***

Meanwhile, beyond the curtain of rain, the malevolent aura twisted and turned.

Daoist Feng, in his panic, fled without direction, daring not to return to Gubei City, nor to remain where he was, and utterly lost as to where he should go.

A heart in such disarray was already akin to dry bones in a tomb.

“Why are you running?”

Finally, before a rocky outcrop, the green-robed Young Lady caught up to the frantic, bewildered Daoist Feng.

“I, I am Daoist Feng.”

Daoist Feng mumbled, wildly pulling at his hair, appearing to have lost his mind.

“Stop pretending.”

Qíngyǔ, of course, knew the fellow’s true state; feigning madness would not allow him to escape her.

Seeing his ploy fail, Daoist Feng’s heart sank further, his mind frantically churning with various thoughts, yet unable to conceive of a path to survival.

Just then, a loud voice echoed from afar.

“Haha, it seems this old Daoist hasn’t arrived too late after all.”

Hearing the voice, the Young Lady couldn’t help but purse her lips.

Ever since this old man grasped the ‘Pure Rain’ (TL Note: A profound technique or insight), he had become increasingly elusive, yet he always liked to announce his presence dramatically before appearing.

What a waste of a precious art.

“Fellow Daoist Qíng.”

A figure with white robes, white hair, and a white beard coalesced from the rain, completely blocking Daoist Feng’s hope of escape.

“Old Gentleman, you humble me.”

Qíngyǔ bowed to him, her heart also feeling lighter.

Her pursuit had not been reckless; though her hard strength was certainly no match for Daoist Feng, the ‘intent’ was on her side due to the prevailing momentum.

If this demonic entity were to resort to a desperate, all-or-nothing struggle and forcibly alter the situation, she would find it somewhat difficult to handle.

“Ah, what nonsense are you speaking?”

Zì Bùxiàn chuckled, taking a packet from his sleeve and tossing it to Qíngyǔ.

The latter opened it to find it filled with ‘Pure Rain’!

‘What is going on? Why has this old man suddenly become so generous?’

“This…?”

“It’s nowhere near the value of the four characters ‘Distant Mountains’ and ‘Pure Rain’ that Fellow Daoist inscribed.

Please, do not decline.”

After a moment’s thought, and without even glancing at the old Daoist’s expression, Qíngyǔ reluctantly yet swiftly tucked the packet of fine tea deep into her sleeve.

Seeing the two converse as if no one else were present, Daoist Feng felt a surge of anxiety and fury, yet dared not act, truly trapped in a living prison.

After a few moments of reminiscing, Zì Bùxiàn finally turned to him.

“Oh, you’re still here?”

The old Daoist reached for the gourd at his waist, his eyes holding a half-smile as he took a sip.

“Sir Zi, how do you intend to deal with this demonic entity?”

With someone else to handle the task, Qíngyǔ was naturally content to remain at ease.

She could avoid exposing her weaknesses while still achieving her objective; why would she not?

“If it were up to me, constrained by the heavenly laws, I could only take them back for the sect to interrogate.”

“That would not be ideal.”

“Indeed, not ideal.”

“Then I shall do it.”

Qíngyǔ shook her head, concentrating her spirit and intent, and an ‘Execution of Judgment’ slowly materialized in her hand.

Daoist Feng felt his hairs stand on end at the aura, recoiling as if he had encountered a natural predator.

“Wait… wait! I am a scout under Lord Beitu Jun! You cannot kill me!”

At this moment, the demonic entity could no longer care for any notions of cultivation paths or dignity, frantically shouting out the demon lord’s name.

As his words fell, an unseen, profound will immediately enveloped him.

Though clearly receiving protection, his expression grew somewhat dejected, his eyes even reflecting a venomous resentment that hadn’t been present even in his earlier despair.

Zì Bùxiàn, hearing that name, his playful expression froze for a moment, then turned somewhat grave.

The three fell silent for a while, before Qíngyǔ finally broke the stillness.

“Lord Beitu Jun, are you referring to… the one mentioned in the Zhongwen Tang texts?”