Am I the only good person in this cultivation world?

……

An hour ago.

He Muran watched as his master and Yao Han's figures disappeared into the distance, when suddenly Fang Tingyu's urgent voice transmission reached his ears:

"Have they left? Have they left?"

She turned around and nodded to Fang Tingyu:

"I'm gone."

"Oh my god, that scared me to death! She's finally gone! I don't know what's wrong with Master lately. She should have been in a bad mood by now, the forty-nine-day mourning period should have passed. Surely she wouldn't be acting so irritably now!"

What does "seven sevens" mean?

"Qiqi is... well, I don't really know how to explain it to you, it's a problem that women tend to develop as they get older—they become emotionally unstable, irritable, and easily angered. But this problem only affects mortals, it doesn't apply to us cultivators... Please, please don't tell Master this!"

He Muran nodded seriously.

"Yeah, I knew you were the best, Mu Ran! Hehe~ Alright, I'll be going now. Cover for Master for me, I still need to figure out a way to rescue Junior Sister Lan..."

As she spoke, Fang Tingyu was about to escape on the satin, but as soon as she turned around, a gust of wind suddenly came from in front of her, stinging her face. Looking closely, she saw He Muran blocking her way with his sword.

"Oh, Mu Ran, Mu Ran-jie~ Why are you like this again? It's just a flower show, it won't take long, five days! No, four days, we'll be back. Master definitely won't find out!"

"No, she just told me to keep a close eye on you during your seclusion. You can't leave."

"Oh, how about three days, three days then? Mu Ran, you don't know, the flower festival in Miao Cai City only lasts for a few days each year. If you miss it, all the flowers will have withered, and you won't be able to see them anymore! I've been wanting to go for years, but every year at this time, there's a ton of things waiting for me at Qianji Hall, and I'm always too busy to handle everything. This year, I finally had a new junior sister to take over my duties, so I finally had some free time..."

Fang Tingyu wasn't afraid of He Muran's sword at all. She turned around, approached her, and took her arm, swaying it gently.

"Please cover for me, I promise this is the last time! Okay, Mu Ran, please~ I'll bring you some snacks this time too, how about that?"

"You always say it's the last time..."

He Muran answered somewhat helplessly, but finally couldn't resist Fang Tingyu's coquettish advances and sighed:

"...Alright, alright, stop shaking me. My arm is about to fall apart from all this shaking. This is the only time. If Master finds out, I don't know how I'll cover for you."

"Hehe, I knew you were the best, Mu Ran!"

Fang Tingyu hugged her tightly:

"I have to hurry, or I'll be in big trouble if Master suddenly comes back! I'll bring you back lots of good food this time, so don't worry—"

Before Mu Ran could say goodbye, Fang Tingyu stepped onto the satin and flew away into the distance, her voice slowly fading into the wind.

He Muran stared blankly at the receding light, hovering in mid-air.

What is a flower festival like?

She had never seen it before.

Since being led into the Water Moon Palace by her master, she has lived in the sect for more than twenty years and has never stepped out.

Her life is clearly divided into two parts: before joining the sect and after joining the sect.

That's why she has such a deep impression of her childhood experiences.

As far as I can remember, she was given to that family.

She was very young then, and couldn't even walk. She only remembered a pair of big hands holding her tightly. She curled up in that person's warm embrace, but couldn't see her face clearly. She only remembered the other person's rapid breathing and a few strands of long hair peeking out from under the robe.

He Muran didn't know if she was her biological mother, but she soon had an adoptive mother.

They were a simple and honest village family, an elderly couple and their lame son. Although they lived a poor life, they treated her very well. She ate only simple food every day, but during festivals she could taste dumplings from other people's homes and even get new clothes.

That was the most unforgettable time for her. At that time, she didn't have many desires. She usually helped with laundry and cooking, learned farm work from her father, listened to her brother tell stories, and learned to weave, embroider, and braid straw ropes from her mother while lying on the bed.

When she got tired of weaving straw ropes, she would lie by the window and stare blankly in the sun. Sometimes she would stare at the sparrows in the trees, and sometimes she would look at the kitten in the yard. The yellow and white kitten was dozing on the stone mill, turning over and over. By the time it stood up from the mill while yawning, the sun had almost set behind the western mountains.

The sun warmed her body, but she only hoped that the weather would get colder so that she could celebrate the New Year again, eat dumplings again, and change her clothes. That was her only wish.

At the time, she thought that life would continue peacefully like this, day after day, year after year.

Unfortunately, things don't always go as planned, and suffering always seems to fall on the unfortunate.

She couldn't remember the specifics, but she did remember the chilling cries and piercing screams, and the ubiquitous firelight that almost lit up the night sky. The smoke made her nose run. It was the first time she realized that the smell didn't just represent firecrackers during the Lunar New Year.

Because she was small, her mother tucked her under the wooden board at the bottom of the bed, telling her to hide inside and never come out.

She heard a jumble of thuds overhead and her family's pleas for mercy in her ears. She desperately covered her ears with her hands, afraid to listen, and prayed silently that it was all just a dream.

She huddled under the bed, sometimes falling asleep, sometimes waking up in fright. She didn't know how many days had passed, sleeping one after another. Even when there was no more noise outside, she still hid under the bed, not daring to run out.

She finally moved, not out of courage, but because she was so hungry that she was dizzy and trembling. She didn't know how long she had been there, only that if she stayed there any longer, she would starve to death under the wooden plank.

She crawled out from under the bed, closed her eyes, and groped her way into the kitchen, but all the food in the house had already been looted, so she had to go out and look for more.

She walked through familiar streets, but was constantly frightened by the corpses lying at the doorways. She stumbled and staggered through the pools of blood, finally finding half a steamed bun in the village ancestral hall, which she wolfed down.

Then, she met Su Yao.

He Muran will never forget that day. When she was most helpless, Su Yao, dressed in a pure white dress, descended from the sky like a fairy and landed in front of her.

With a smile, Su Yao slowly squatted down, gently patted her head, and took a jade pendant from her bosom.

This brand was actually given to her by her brother a few years ago. Now her brother and family are gone, and this is all she has left.

Su Yao gazed quietly into her eyes and spoke softly:

"Would you like to come with me?"