Chapter One: The Beautiful Young Man in the Tree

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The Kingdom of Phoenix Moon, Nine Shaman Mountain.

A plain-looking carriage moved slowly along the road.

“Good heavens, these past two days have been brutal. The one in the palace actually sent more than a dozen waves of assassins after our master while he was at his weakest. That’s utterly outrageous. Besides, our journey here to seek treatment was supposed to be strictly confidential. How did the palace find out?”

As he finished speaking, Ghost Fang paused. Then his gaze sharpened as he looked ahead.

“If I find out who leaked the news, I certainly won’t let him off lightly. Ah—ah—ow! You, slow down!”

Ghost Fang, dressed in black and driving the carriage, pursed his lips. As he spoke, the bruising at the corner of his eye twitched involuntarily, and every so often he glanced into the carriage.

Over the past two days, while evading those assassins, Ghost Fang had suffered a few injuries himself. Had he not been in such a hurry to prevent the wounds of the master inside from worsening, he would have dealt with that band of worthless rabble long ago.

Sitting beside him, Crimson Fate let out a sigh. Looking at Ghost Fang, who had been grumbling nonstop, the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Stop talking already. Be careful the master hears you and it disrupts his recovery.”

Only after Ghost Fang fell silent did Crimson Fate continue.

“Fortunately, once we cross the next mountain, we’ll reach Nether Physician Valley. I heard that, in its early years, the valley was nothing more than a refuge for a group of wandering people. Yet seven years ago, no one knows what opportunity they encountered, and it developed at such an astonishing speed.”

“Never mind that. Once we meet the young valley lord, I’ll make sure he examines our master. I believe the master’s illness will certainly be cured!”

Ghost Fang suddenly turned his head toward Crimson Fate and nodded blankly, never loosening his grip on the reins. From Crimson Fate’s angle, he could see a pair of eyes bright as stars—eyes impossible to forget once seen.

Ghost Fang really was a delicate-looking young man. Had they not grown up together, one might truly have mistaken him for a woman.

If Ghost Fang had known what Crimson Fate was thinking, he probably would have been furious enough to spit blood.

He was plainly a perfectly straight man, yet someone had mistaken him for a woman. If word got out, how was he supposed to hold his own before all his brothers? Where would his authority, his dignity, and his image be?

“Since you’ve come, why hide yourselves? Come out.”

A deep voice drifted from within the carriage, which had been silent for a long while.

The voice sounded exceedingly weak, yet it carried the oppressive authority of one accustomed to command. It was as though a sleeping lion had made it difficult for everyone nearby to breathe.

Around them, the wind stirred. The grass rustled.

A flock of crows burst noisily into the air from deep within the mountains, leaving the surroundings utterly silent.

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The expressions of Ghost Fang and Crimson Fate changed slightly. They stood back to back, forming a defensive encirclement, their sharp gazes fixed on the direction from which the crows had risen. The lazy weariness and bantering ease of before had vanished completely, replaced by caution and a bloodthirsty killing intent.

In their eyes, anyone who dared provoke their master would soon be breathing no air at all.

And indeed, that was what would happen. Unfortunately, the people they had encountered this time were no ordinary opponents. Had they known in advance that this person was the very young lord of Nether Physician Valley they had been searching for, they would not have spoken so recklessly—and many of the troubles that followed might never have occurred.

But that was a story for later.

Following their gaze, they saw a mass of white mist spreading through the air.

After a moment, the fog dispersed. Through the hazy veil, they saw a person in a white brocade robe seated across from them. One hand supported his forehead, his narrow phoenix eyes half closed as he reclined casually upon a lofty branch. A blade of wild grass, no one knew from where, hung between his lips.

Every movement radiated elegance and nobility. The slight upward curve of his lips was so beautiful that even heaven and earth seemed to lose their color.

If this person was an assassin, then he was an assassin of an extraordinary caliber.

Everything he wore was utterly ordinary, yet upon this young master, not a single detail appeared out of place.

That innate nobility could only be displayed so perfectly by their own master. Yet compared with their master, the young man before them was in no way inferior—indeed, he might even surpass him.

The two exchanged a covert glance.

This youth in white was definitely no ordinary person.

Their gazes shifted, and they noticed that two other young men of remarkable bearing stood beside the white-robed gentleman. They were somewhat less impressive than the latter, of course. After all, people capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with their master could hardly be found everywhere. To encounter even one in this remote mountain valley was already a miracle.

Wait.

How could people like this happen to appear here?

Could they be…

Ghost Fang and Crimson Fate suddenly thought of something. Their expressions changed at once. They released an intimidating aura, coldness and killing intent radiating from their bodies.

On the other side, Luo Qianfan continued to recline lazily on the branch without making any other movement, as though she had heard and seen nothing.

But White Feather, standing beside her, was displeased.

In her eyes, the two men before them had clearly been bewitched by her young mistress’s beauty—no, by her handsomeness, as she was currently disguised as a man.

From the moment they had first met, the two men had stared lasciviously at her young mistress with their four eyes, and White Feather had already been unhappy about it. Now they had even dared to release killing intent.

They were truly hateful beyond measure.

Never mind. She would have to teach them a lesson.

And so, a scheme was born.

Poor foolish pair. They had already been targeted, yet they remained completely unaware.

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In White Feather’s eyes, her young mistress was sacred and inviolable. She often wondered who might one day win her young mistress’s affection.

Whoever that person was, he would certainly have to be the second-most outstanding individual beneath heaven and above earth, surpassed only by the young mistress herself. As for the two ignorant fools before her, they clearly did not qualify.

That was right. In White Feather’s eyes, these two were nothing more than a pair of simpletons—poor, ugly simpletons at that.

It could hardly be blamed on them. They had spent the past several days rushing along without changing their clothes. Naturally, they were dirty and smelly, especially when standing before such a group of peerlessly handsome and magnificently elegant “young gentlemen.”

Suddenly, a dangerously seductive sound rising from the throat shattered the silence.

“Mmm… That was a wonderfully restful sleep.”

Luo Qianfan’s voice was languid, carrying the husky, hazy resonance of someone newly awakened. Her long, fair neck tilted slightly as she glanced across at the disheveled Ghost Fang and Crimson Fate—and at the person inside the carriage whose gender was impossible to discern.

Her black-and-white eyes shifted. A trace of surprise flickered through them, but it was concealed so quickly that no one noticed.

Once she had finished assessing the situation, the white figure flipped lightly from the tree. Her toes touched the ground, and she walked forward with elegant, unhurried steps.

Her dazzling white robes gleamed beneath the light. Her ink-black hair was tied only with a single blue ribbon, lending her a languid, captivating air. Even now, a faintly wicked smile curved her lips, causing Ghost Fang and the others to grow more cautious.

“Who are you people, and what are you doing here? Speak plainly at once.”

Ghost Fang frowned slightly and looked displeased as he addressed the three of them.

“And who do you think you are, speaking to our young master like that? I’ll teach you a proper lesson!”

White Feather’s voice brimmed with anger. She strode forward and was just about to draw the Dark One Silver Cord at her waist.

Luo Yi did not make as dramatic a move as White Feather, but hearing those words—especially words directed at her young mistress—caused the air around him to turn cold as well. His gaze sharpened, and his well-defined hand closed around the Starburst Dagger at his waist.

The atmosphere became terrifyingly tense.

The two were about to act when Luo Qianfan stopped them.

She stepped past them, raised an eyebrow, and looked toward the carriage.

If she was not mistaken, the person inside was definitely no ordinary individual.

“Are you planning to remain in that carriage indefinitely, watching your servants behave so outrageously?”

A light, airy voice drifted over, carrying a touch of indifference.

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