High-class Spring Joy

The scene before Mango's eyes suddenly changed. All the Yikun Palace, the Ninth Prince, the eunuch, and even the past and future lives disappeared before Mango's eyes, and Mango fell into darkness once again.

The darkness terrified her.

It left her bewildered, unsure of where she was, why she had come, or who she was.

All of this seemed exceptionally pale and utterly devoid of evidence in this seamless, abyss-like place.

Mango was stunned. Like a frog being slowly boiled in water, when the hot water was suddenly removed, his first reaction was not comfort, but cold. Similarly, someone who had endured the freezing winds in the snow and ice, whose hands were wrinkled from the cold, and who had become accustomed to surviving in the snow and ice, would not feel warmth as their first reaction when they touched burning warmth, but pain.

Mango seemed to vaguely realize that what she had just experienced was either a dream or reality. The feelings were so real, the memories so real, everything she touched was real, and the person standing in front of her speaking was so vivid, so lifelike, so real.

Especially the memories in her mind, they were as if she had personally experienced them. What she talked about—her past life, her previous life—was so real, so tangible, and even the people in her memories were so vivid.

What was even more vivid, and what made Mango even more doubtful and shaken, was the hatred that seemed to want to burst out of his body.

Is that a dream? Is it really a dream?

Where is this place? Is this pitch-black abyss reality?

Where is she, as Mango, in reality? If she isn't the girl from the story we just saw, then why is the Third Young Master's name there?

Yes, the words "Third Young Master" and "Third Young Master" struck Mango's mind like a bolt of lightning, instantly seemingly splitting open a crack in the dark abyss before Mango.

Yes…

Where the Third Young Master is, that's reality. Yes... no problem.

That's absolutely right.

Mango could only think this way. She couldn't tell anymore. It seemed that the most taboo thing for people was to get caught up in the difference between the front and the back, not knowing whether the front or the back was right.

Regardless of which side is real or which side is fake, it doesn't seem to make much difference. Perhaps, the difference between truth and falsehood, right and wrong, is just a matter of a single thought in one's mind.

So…

She was convinced that the Third Young Master was real, and that Grape was real.

"Then naturally she'll be with them," Mango thought realistically.

Just then, Mango still felt like she was in a void, but perhaps in the void there was also a sense of touch. She was in a state of extreme heat and cold, sometimes cold as if she were in ice, and sometimes hot as if she were being burned by a blazing campfire.

Mango rarely experiences this feeling, it seems she has never experienced it before, and the hot and cold sensations don't seem to be physical sensations, but rather a pain surging from the depths of her soul.

Mango would curl up for a while, then lie pale on the ground, as if she had entered a hell from which there was no return.

Such pain, such stark contrast, yet the alternating pain gradually eroded Mango's consciousness, causing her to slowly lose the rationality she had just regained.

Who exactly is she? Whose life is she living? Where is her home?

Is she the so-called unfavored concubine's daughter who was sent to the palace?

Or was she just a maid who crawled out of the Zhenguo Marquis's mansion?

Who is she? Who did she meet? What did she experience? Does she have parents? Does she have friends?

Mango was completely caught in her own mental cycle and a nightmare.

Just then, a sound like chanting suddenly came from Mango's ears, lingering and echoing.

The chanting was like a purifying melody that cleansed the soul, slowly dispelling the confusion and fear in Mango's heart.

At that moment, accompanying the chanting was another voice that seemed somewhat familiar to him:

"Ahe...Ahe..."

The calls were repeated again and again, filled with urgency and concern, as if someone had lost someone they cherished, their anxiety like a fish out of water.

What's the rush? What's the worry?

Is that her?

Who is this person...? Is the anxiety because of her? Is the worry because of her?

Does such a person truly exist in this world, someone who worries about her so much?

Mango didn't know anything; all she knew was that the man's calls grew louder and more urgent with each one.

The voice seemed to transform into an invisible hand, suddenly pulling Mango into its embrace. In her weak and dazed state, Mango allowed the person in front of her to pull her away.

But when Mango realized what was happening, she found herself in a warm and reliable embrace.

When Mango opened her eyes again, she found that the darkness in front of her had dissipated, the abyss had also disappeared, and all the so-called Nine Thousand Years Old and Yikun Palace had vanished without a trace. In front of her was a room that felt somewhat familiar, and the embrace in front of her felt even more familiar and reassuring.

Mango opened her eyes and looked at the man in front of her, a man who looked familiar to her at first glance.

A sentence immediately popped into Mango's mind—

Third Young Master.

It seems she has returned to reality.

This is a sentence that popped into Mango's head without her even realizing it.

The embrace in front of her felt so familiar and reassuring. In the familiar scent of cold bamboo, Mango's thoughts gradually calmed down and she finally came to her senses, remembering some things little by little.

"Young master."

When Mango finally found her voice again, she realized how hoarse and unpleasant it had become.

Mango, however, was unaware that the sounds she found unpleasant, the sounds she considered outrageous, the sounds she was too embarrassed to speak, were actually beautiful and melodious to others.

Grape hugged Mango tightly, and upon hearing the weak and hoarse words "Young Master," a wave of joy washed over her in an instant.

She woke up.

"Guoguo..."

The grapes held the mango tightly, as if it were a lost treasure that had been found again, tighter and tighter, as if it was using all its strength to ensure that it would never be separated from the mango again, and that the mango would never be in such a dangerous situation again.

Mango was unaware of what was happening, only noticing that Grape's reaction was a bit off. Grape seemed too agitated, and even its usually calm and indifferent voice was filled with anxiety and worry, its voice even trembling.

Mango sensed something was wrong; she then realized that the person holding her seemed to be trembling.

Mango calmed herself down and carefully felt around, and sure enough, she found that the person holding her was trembling.

Mango reached out and gently patted his back: "What's wrong... young master? Did something happen?"

"You're awake."

Grape, trembling with shock, clutched the mango tightly in front of her, but when she spoke, she couldn't utter any more beautiful or gorgeous words; she could only repeat a few words over and over again.

Mango thought about it and felt that something big must have happened to make the Third Young Master, who was always the most composed and indifferent, and even when he was calculating the lives of himself and everyone else, turn out like this.

Mango didn't quite hear what Grape said, so she quickly asked, "..."

"You wretched girl, orphaned and childless! How dare you steal my jade pendant!"

The peasant woman, Dongxiang, raised a wooden stick, as if to strike the thin, small girl in front of her.

Luo Qinghe skillfully and hastily dodged the blow, tears still clinging to her small face.

"Qinghe didn't steal anything, Qinghe didn't... That's the jade pendant that Mother left for Qinghe! That's what Mother left for Qinghe..."

When Qinghe saw her action, her face turned pale with fright, and she ran out of the yard as fast as she could.

The area outside was already crowded with villagers who had come to watch the spectacle, and they greeted the crowd with malicious accusations:

"Tsk, only five years old, how come he's already learned to steal? His hands and feet are so dirty. Dongxiang, you have to discipline him properly. He who steals a needle when young will steal gold when old!"

"Yes, how can we raise a child who is so young and already learning to steal, and even talking back and arguing? We're afraid we'll raise an ungrateful wretch."

"In my opinion, like begets like. A rat's child knows how to dig a hole. Her mother was punished by the Ten Thousand Swords Sect and sent to the wilderness for her dishonest deeds, so she can't be any better!"

Qinghe's path was blocked, and her small figure endured the pointing and whispering of everyone around her. The scrutinizing gazes and the barrage of words made it seem as if Luo Qinghe was an unforgivable monster.

Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. The next moment, a blow struck her from behind, knocking her to the ground. She winced in pain, crying out, "I didn't! That's mine! It's the jade pendant my mother left for me!"

Dongxiang stood triumphantly in front of her, holding a wooden stick. "Hey, everyone heard that! She herself said it was something her mother gave her. I've raised her for so many years, isn't her mother me? That's mine, and you still say it's not stolen?!"

Dongxiang got angry at Qinghe's retorting manner, rolled up her sleeves, chased after her, and raised a wooden stick: "Give me the thing! If you don't give me the thing, I'll beat you to death today!"

The outwardly fierce but inwardly cowardly Dongxiang was about to attack Qinghe.

Suddenly, Qinghe emitted an extremely dazzling light, and the terrifying power directly sent the onlookers flying far away.

As if targeted, Dongxiang was the most seriously injured.

This village is located on the edge of the wilderness, desolate and poor. The villagers don't know how to cultivate, and when they were beaten like this, they were so frightened that they got up and went back to their own homes.

Qinghe realized what was happening, put her small hand to her neck, where a small wooden sword was threaded through a black cotton rope, and sobbed, "Brother..."

Qinghe didn't dare go back; that wasn't her home. She was in so much pain that she couldn't walk far. She could only stop under the old tree at the village entrance and lean against it to catch her breath.

Just then, several children, seeing her disheveled appearance, ran over and, mimicking Dongxiang's earlier words, teased her:

"A wild girl without a father or mother! A wild girl without a father or mother! A wild girl without a father or mother!!"

"Nonsense! You're all talking nonsense! I'm not an unwanted child!"

Qinghe roared angrily, grabbing stones haphazardly and smashing them at them without a care.

She was accurate and hit several children, who were so frightened by her crazy behavior that they turned and ran away.

After everyone left, the world quieted down. Qinghe leaned against the tree, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably, falling in strings to the ground.

Nonsense, they're all talking nonsense!

She has a mother; her mother didn't abandon her on purpose.

Her mother's name was Luo Qing.

Luo Qing was the former sect leader of the Ten Thousand Swords Sect. She was framed by her junior sister, and the disciples she had painstakingly trained all believed her junior sister's words and were convinced that she had ruthlessly stolen the life-saving elixir, causing the death of half of the Ten Thousand Swords Sect's disciples.

Luo Qing was stripped of all her cultivation and exiled to the wilderness. At that time, she was already eight months pregnant. After giving birth to Luo Qinghe, her life came to an end.

Before she died, she entrusted Luo Qinghe to a passing woodcutter for a hundred spirit stones as payment. The man was Dongxiang's husband.

The woodcutter treated Luo Qinghe well; although he didn't treat her like his own son, he provided her with plenty of food and clothing. Unfortunately, she died in the jaws of wild animals three years ago.

From then on, Luo Qinghe never ate a full meal again, nor wore a decent piece of clothing.

These were all things that the young man told Qinghe.

The young man's name is Junwu. At first, she couldn't write or even recognize these two characters. Later, when the young man was not around, she tried to write them every time she wanted to, and she slowly learned how to do it.

Junwu is the spirit of the wooden sword hanging around Qinghe's neck, which was also left to Qinghe by Luo Qing.

When her mother gave birth to her, the young man wanted to save her, but unfortunately, her mother was too badly injured. His sword spirit, which was just beginning to develop consciousness, tried its best but to no avail.

It was at that time that he exhausted all his strength. For the past five years, Junwu has been mostly asleep, only occasionally waking up when Qinghe is under great threat.

"Qinghe isn't... Qinghe isn't an unwanted wild child. Qinghe misses her mother, misses her father, misses her brother so much. Brother, please don't sleep anymore..."

Qinghe wept uncontrollably, crying so hard she could barely breathe. Her nose twitched, turning red, and all she could do was grip the small wooden sword tightly.

She cried for an unknown amount of time, until she was almost exhausted, when a gentle male voice came:

"Little sister, do you know someone named Dongxiang?"

Qinghe looked up with tears in her eyes and was stunned when she saw the young man in front of her. He was more handsome than the uncles and elders in the village, and his tone of voice was much gentler than theirs.

She sniffed and nodded.

Luo Yunping was overjoyed when he saw her nod. The last spark of hope in his heart suddenly ignited.

He had been searching in this desolate border region for a whole month. He heard that his master had entrusted his junior sister to a woodcutter before he died. After inquiring around for a month, he learned that his junior sister was likely living with a peasant woman named Dongxiang.

This is the first time he's seen someone say they know him!

"Very good!"

Luo Yunping hurriedly pulled out some candy from his pocket: "I'm looking for a child who's about your age, gender... I'm not sure. Does Dongxiang's family have a child like that?"

Qinghe looked him up and down twice, eyeing him warily, but didn't take the candy. She simply nodded slightly.

"I...I am called Luo Qinghe, and my mother is called Luo Qing."

Luo Yunping's eyes widened as if he had been struck by a gift from heaven. He hadn't looked closely before, but now that he looked closely, the little girl in front of him really did look somewhat like his master!

The location is correct, the surname is correct, the age is correct, and the appearance is correct.

Luo Yunping forcibly suppressed his excitement and deliberately softened his voice: "Qinghe... Junior Sister, I am your and your mother's favorite disciple. Before your mother passed away, we had a very deep master-disciple relationship. My name is Luo Yunping, and I am your junior brother. I have come to take you home."

As he spoke, he tried to wipe away Qinghe's tears, but Qinghe dodged his hand as soon as he reached out.

"That's not my home. My home is where my mother is."

Qinghe looked at him cautiously and took two steps back: "What do you mean by 'deep affection'? Does it mean...does it mean you care about Mother very much, and Mother cares about you very much too?"

"Yes, yes, yes, that's exactly what I mean! Qinghe is so clever!"

Luo Yunping praised her with a smile.

Qinghe looked at him with her big, tear-filled eyes: "Then why did you only come to find Mother and me now?"

Yes.

If they truly cared, why would they wait five or six years to show their concern?

Luo Yunping's smile froze at the question. Realizing what was happening, he forced a smile and said, "You're still too young. These things are complicated to explain, and Qinghe might not understand. I'll take you back to the Ten Thousand Swords Sect first and then explain it to you. If we don't go back soon, you'll miss the Supreme Sect's disciple selection."

Upon hearing about the Supreme Sect, Qinghe changed her attitude and agreed to return with Luo Yunping.

The young man said that his father seemed to be from the Supreme Sect!

They treated her badly and wronged her. She didn't want to go back to the Ten Thousand Swords Sect, but she wanted to go to the Supreme Sect.

Mother, don't be angry with Qinghe. Qinghe just wants to go to the Supreme Sect to find Father.

-

Ten Thousand Swords Sect

At this time, the hall was decorated with lanterns and colorful streamers, and laughter and cheerful voices could be heard from within.

Hundreds of disciples carried all sorts of trinkets and gifts as they headed toward the main hall.