Return to Before the Villain’s Corruption

When Qiu Shi and Qin Donglin emerged one after the other, the sky was pitch black, as if ink had been spilled across it. The moonlight was obscured by dark clouds, with only a few faint streaks of light shimmering intermittently.

Ming Yue carried a glazed lantern in her hand, its tassels swaying wildly in the wind before gently settling back down, casting a soft halo of light that exuded a unique tenderness.

"You may leave first," Qiu Shi beckoned, taking the lantern from Ming Yue. "Have the Star Moon Pavilion lit. The Young Master and I will be there shortly."

Ming Yue bowed slightly and retreated without a sound.

Qiu Shi swayed the lantern playfully and gestured for Qin Donglin to follow with a smile, leading the way along a winding path.

The distance between them was mere steps, and as the wind blew, her cascading hair fluttered, nearly brushing against Qin Donglin's nose.

It carried a pleasant fragrance—reminiscent of lily of the valley, or perhaps the rare sea blossoms that bloomed deep in Qin Hai.

Qin Donglin slowed his pace, and the figure ahead did the same. He raised a brow, reaching out to pinch a stray lock of hair that drifted toward him.

Qiu Shi let out a soft "Ah!" and halted, causing the lantern in her hand to sway. Qin Donglin sighed, his voice low and resigned. "Walk properly."

Qiu Shi responded with a drawn-out "Oh," dawdling before turning back to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with him, her striking eyes stealing glances at him repeatedly.

Once, twice.

Her delicate, jade-like face might as well have been inscribed with the words, "Look at me, I have something to say"—like a kitten, blatantly seeking attention.

This was a tactic Qin Donglin knew all too well, so familiar that he could mimic her pitiful expression perfectly.

He had even mastered the best way to handle such situations: two words—ignore and pretend not to hear.

Yet he also knew full well that when Qiu Shi truly wanted something, no amount of ignoring would make a difference.

Qin Donglin tapped his slender fingers idly against his sleeve, counting silently in his mind.

One, two.

By the time he reached three, his footsteps paused, and Qiu Shi spoke almost simultaneously.

"Qin Donglin."

Her voice was soft, dissolving into the watery darkness, mingling with the distant chirping of unseen insects. Even calling him by his full name carried an unusual gentleness tonight.

Perhaps it was the serene atmosphere, or perhaps it was because of the incident with Cheng Yi earlier, but Qin Donglin found himself in an uncharacteristically placid mood. He hummed in acknowledgment, arching a brow. "What do you want?"

Qiu Shi blinked, then quickly recovered. Pressing her lips together, she muttered, "What’s that supposed to mean? It’s not like I only talk to you when I want something."

Qin Donglin looked at her with an amused smirk, his expression practically spelling out: Then what else could it be?

Their eyes met, and Qiu Shi inexplicably faltered, glancing away first. "Don’t just stand there. Let’s walk and talk."

Earlier, Qiu Shi had instructed Ming Yue to light the Star Moon Pavilion, so now the two headed south, their footsteps light and rhythmic against the ground.

Qiu Shi had started the conversation, but the words that followed lodged in her throat, leaving a prolonged silence.

She said nothing, and Qin Donglin—ever reticent—certainly wasn’t going to break the quiet.

The rest of the journey passed without a word.

The Star Moon Pavilion stood at the southernmost edge of the main city, a towering observatory constructed through grand sorcery, embodying the romantic notion of plucking stars and embracing the moon. It had been built years ago by Song Chengshu to delight Tang Ru.

Because activating it required a considerable amount of spirit stones, the supporting arrays beneath the pavilion weren’t always operational—hence Qiu Shi’s instruction to light it in advance.

By the time they arrived, the Star Moon Pavilion was fully illuminated, the entire spire glowing like a pillar of fire. Countless star-like flames floated up and down, resembling a swarm of luminous butterflies—a breathtaking spectacle.

The pavilion overlooked the entire city, its height second only to the central spire. Delicate curtains draped its exterior, while fragrant incense curled within.

Attendants entered to serve tea, arranging platters of fruits and spirit-nourishing delicacies.

Qiu Shi sat curled on a plush mink-fur rug, sipping steaming fragrant tea. She closed her eyes briefly, exhaling in contentment.

Qin Donglin leaned against a vermilion pillar adorned with flying clouds and auspicious beasts, gazing through the sheer curtains at the city still shrouded in darkness. His entire demeanor exuded an effortless nobility, a lazy yet sharp elegance.

Then, as if sensing something, his lips curved slightly. "You have something to ask me?"

A pause.

"Or have you done something again that even you find guilty?"

Though phrased as a question, his tone was flat, certain.

Such was the downside of growing up together—a single hesitant glance or an absentminded gesture, and the other could read you like an open book.

Qiu Shi hugged her knees, wrapped in a thin blanket, watching the half-veiled moon peek through the clouds. Suddenly, as if struck by a whim, she asked with keen interest, "What do you think of me?"

The question caught even Qin Donglin—accustomed to her unpredictable remarks—off guard.

"Did you hit your head?"

He cast her a sidelong glance before replying indifferently.

The more dismissive he was, the more Qiu Shi pressed. "Come on, tell me the truth."

Qin Donglin smirked. "I thought you had some self-awareness."

Qiu Shi shook her head, utterly earnest. "I don’t."

Pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, Qin Donglin summarized succinctly: "Troublesome, meddlesome, whiny, noisy, and annoying."

Qiu Shi had expected nothing flattering, but hearing not a single redeeming quality listed still stung. "Qin Donglin, you’re the worst. You only ever focus on my flaws and never see my good points."

Her eyes, round and bright like twin stars, dimmed with displeasure.

"You have good points?" Qin Donglin countered, amused.

"Well," Qiu Shi hesitated, then pressed on, "if I’m truly so unremarkable, why didn’t you dissolve our engagement this time?"

Her gaze flickered as she finally voiced the question.

"So that’s what this is about?" Qin Donglin seemed unsurprised. His dark eyes, framed by sharp brows and a piercing gaze, radiated an almost tangible intensity.

"You’ve heard Wu Fei and the others say it often enough—that I’m nothing but trouble, that I only bring you headaches. Even you once said that if not for our families’ ties and this engagement, you wouldn’t bother with me at all."

Qiu Shi lowered her lashes, stating the facts with quiet confusion. "This time, after everything settled, Aunt Ruan and Father both relented, saying the decision to keep or end the engagement was ours to make."

"So why didn’t you?"

Admittedly, at this moment, Qiu Shi was particularly self-aware. Since childhood, she had lost count of how many times she had provoked Qin Donglin to the point of fury. The usually aloof and indifferent man had turned livid on countless occasions, storming off in a huff. By her estimation, now that both families had relented, he should have been setting off firecrackers in celebration to annul their engagement.

If it were her, she wouldn’t have hesitated—she’d have ended it that very day.

“Do you want to annul it?”

Qin Donglin lifted his eyelids slightly, tossing the question back at her.

Qiu Shi immediately shook her head like a rattle-drum. “I don’t.”

No sane person with a functioning brain would.

Her denial came too quickly, an almost instinctive reaction. Even someone as temperamental and unpredictable as Qin Donglin seemed momentarily amused. His voice was low as he hummed in acknowledgment, then added, “Then it’s settled. We won’t annul it.”

Qiu Shi was about to say more when he cut her off. “Instead of wasting time on nonsense, you’d do better to study the words on that map. The Luyuan Secret Realm will open soon.”

At the mention of this, Qiu Shi perked up. “Did you bring the Demonic Moon Zither?”

In all the Six Realms, she was probably the only one who could ask so casually about the whereabouts of the Demonic Moon Zither in his presence.

Between them, there were no secrets—no need for caution or restraint.

Qin Donglin nodded, his tone languid. “I did.”

Qiu Shi’s eyelashes fluttered rapidly. After a pause, she stretched out her palm toward him, her voice hushed and mysterious. “Let me show you something.”

Perhaps because their earlier exchange had been relatively pleasant, Qin Donglin indulged her, glancing at her outstretched hand.

Her palm was slender and delicate, the bones finely shaped, her fingers pale as snow or jade, soft as cotton. There was nothing on it—not even a strand of hair.

Yet the sword spirit slumbering within him stirred abruptly, a change that made him realize something.

“The Demonic Moon Zither’s spirit.”

Qiu Shi bounced her palm lightly, whispering to him as if sharing a secret—as if the spirit wouldn’t notice its existence being exposed.

Qin Donglin lowered his gaze, a faint trace of amusement flickering in his eyes.

When Qiu Shi acted foolishly, she lost all traces of the cleverness she displayed after causing trouble and trying to play innocent. She just looked downright silly.

A moment later, a tiny winged meatball appeared in their line of sight.

Though Qiu Shi had described the Demonic Moon Zither’s spirit before, seeing it in person still made Qin Donglin raise an eyebrow in surprise.

No one would have guessed that the notoriously arrogant spirit of the Demonic Moon Zither—one that disdained even the most prodigious young talents—would look like a chubby little orb, devoid of any trace of the majesty befitting a sacred artifact.

The spirit seemed self-conscious too. It hid behind Qiu Shi’s shoulder, straightening its tiny frame, its voice childish yet fierce. “What are you staring at? Keep looking and I’ll gouge your eyes out.”

Qiu Shi soothed it. “It’s fine. He’s like this with everyone. He just looks intimidating, but his personality is actually… not bad. You’ll see once you spend more time with him.”

Only then did the spirit slowly retract its tiny fangs. It fluttered its wings, lifting its chin haughtily, then pointed a pink little finger at Qin Donglin, addressing the sword spirit within him imperiously. “You’re asleep, not dead. Keep pretending to be deaf and dumb, and I’ll beat you until you’re truly dead.”

A moment later, a faint ring of spiritual light enveloped the Demonic Moon Zither’s spirit, its plump little form growing translucent before vanishing entirely from their sight.

In Qiu Shi’s mind, the spirit’s childish voice rang out. “I’m going with Demonic Moon to see how badly the sword’s body is damaged. We’ll catch up on old times while we’re at it. Don’t wait for me—I’ll be back once we’re done.”

Qiu Shi let it be.

“The Demonic Moon Zither has acknowledged you as its master?” Qin Donglin quickly deduced.

At this, Qiu Shi’s mood visibly soured. She hung her head and shook it. “No.”

As ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​‍if anticipating his next question, she spilled everything in one breath. “Sacred artifacts have their own spirits, and they’re all connected. Demonic Moon won’t admit it, but it’s genuinely worried about Demonic Moon’s injuries. That’s why it’s following me into the Luyuan Secret Realm—to find a true sacred medicine for the sword to absorb, to see if it can recover.”

Propping her chin on her hand, she heaved a heavy sigh, her brow shadowed with gloom. “Without the Demonic Moon Zither’s acknowledgment, I can’t progress in the zither’s score. Who knows how long my cultivation will stay stuck at the Grandmaster realm?”

She couldn’t help stealing a glance at Qin Donglin’s upright figure, her voice wilting. “You’re already at the early Golden Core stage, about to reach mid-stage and then the Golden Wheel. How am I supposed to catch up?”

In the Six Realms, all who drew upon the world’s spiritual energy were cultivators, and their strength was divided into seven realms: Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, Grandmaster, Golden Core, Golden Wheel, Kunxu, and Shattering.

Beyond Shattering lay one final realm: Spirit Lord.

Legend spoke of the Demon Emperor of the Primordial Era, who unified the Six Realms and reigned supreme—he was a Spirit Lord.

But throughout history, he was the only one.

Given how distant that era was, and whether such a realm even existed anymore, the Spirit Lord realm was generally disregarded.

The Grandmaster realm was further split into Lesser Grandmaster and Greater Grandmaster. Qiu Shi had been stuck at the peak of Greater Grandmaster for a long time.

Qin Donglin’s gaze inadvertently landed on her scrunched-up little face. His Adam’s apple bobbed twice as he swallowed back the words, “I’ve already reached mid-stage.”

He remembered all too clearly—when Qiu Shi was unhappy, she had a habit of hunting for treasures.