Fallen At A Glance Chapter 15

So you weren’t here for me

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window lattice, casting dappled shadows on the room’s floor. Fine dust motes floated in the air. Lian Mu sat by the desk, holding an ancient text, his expression focused.

The hall was quiet, save for the faint rustle of turning pages and the occasional bird call from outside the window.

The curtain of the inner chamber was gently pulled aside by a hand with distinct, bony knuckles. Hearing the sound, Lian Mu looked up, his gaze traversing the empty hall to land on the newcomer.

Yun Suiyi was leaning against the door frame, his posture still somewhat unsteady. The afternoon sun shone directly on him, coating his figure in a fuzzy, golden outline. He wasn’t wearing an outer robe, only a snow-white inner garment. The collar was slightly loose, and a few strands of dark hair clung lazily to the side of his neck, making his skin appear even more like jade, surpassing frost and snow.

He lowered his head, his dark, long lashes casting a fan-shaped shadow beneath his eyes, obscuring the peach blossom eyes that usually sparkled with life. At this moment, he was secretly licking his somewhat dry lips with the tip of his tongue—a gesture carrying an unconscious, almost innocent craving.

So thirsty… My head is also heavy and muddled, as if filled with paste. But this room is filled with Lian Mu’s scent, clean and cool, which makes me feel very safe.

As if sensing the hot, focused gaze fixed upon him, Yun Suiyi slowly raised his head.

The moment their eyes met, Lian Mu’s heart clenched violently.

Yun Suiyi didn’t speak immediately. He just stood quietly, his long lashes trembling slightly with unease. Then, as if finally finding his voice, he called out, dragging the soft, sweet, and heavily nasalized tail end of his voice: “Lian Mu…”

The sound was hoarse yet sweet, like a feather lightly tickling Lian Mu’s heart.

I see him… The empty space in my heart seems to have been instantly filled. As long as Lian Mu is here, I don’t seem to need to fear anything or think about anything.

Lian Mu’s heart melted into a spring puddle the moment he saw Yun Suiyi looking like this. Even his breathing softened. He put down the book, rose, and walked toward him. He took off his own outer robe, embroidered with complex cloud patterns, and carefully draped it over Yun Suiyi’s thin shoulders, thoroughly wrapping his slightly cool body.

“Why didn’t you sleep longer? Did you wake up hungry?” Lian Mu’s voice carried the gentle indulgence reserved only for Yun Suiyi. As he spoke, he half-embraced the man and led him toward the table where meals had been laid out.

Yun Suiyi didn’t resist, simply allowing himself to be led. His head felt dizzy as he leaned against Lian Mu’s arm, his nose brushing against the cool scent of cedar on his lapel. He took a deep breath.

So fragrant… This is Lian Mu’s scent. I want to just hang onto him like this forever, letting him lead me. Anywhere is fine, just don’t let go of me.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his expression like a cat that had found the warmest patch of sunlight—content and satisfied.

Reaching the table, Lian Mu settled him onto his lap so he could sit comfortably. Yun Suiyi leaned against Lian Mu’s chest, listening to his steady, strong heartbeat. His eyelids started drooping again, his head bobbing like a chick about to fall asleep.

Lian Mu smiled helplessly, gently tapping his cool cheek with his knuckles to wake him up. He picked up a piece of the most tender steamed perch, meticulously removed all the fine bones, and then tested the temperature with his lips. Only when he deemed it not too hot did he bring it to Yun Suiyi’s mouth.

“Open up.” His tone was commanding but full of patience, like coaxing an innocent child.

Smelling the food, Yun Suiyi’s eyelids fluttered, and he finally opened his eyes. He looked at the chopsticks close to his face, then raised his gaze to Lian Mu. His peach blossom eyes held only pure trust and a hint of expectant feeding.

He obediently opened his mouth, like a fledgling waiting to be fed, and took the piece of fish. His cheeks puffed out as he chewed, the tip of his tongue accidentally brushing Lian Mu’s finger, causing a subtle shiver.

“Eat slowly. No one is rushing you.” Lian Mu gently wiped a spot of sauce from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, his movements extremely tender.

For the rest of the meal, Yun Suiyi barely moved his hands. He simply sat quietly on Lian Mu’s lap, like a good baby waiting to be fed.

He ate whatever Lian Mu offered, occasionally pointing to a dish if he found it particularly appetizing.

This is so nice… I never felt this way back in the Yun Manor. I don’t have to worry about being beaten or confined for failing a mission today. I don’t have to practice killing techniques all day, nor do I have to secretly envy the affection she showed Yun Zhao.

This feeling of being cherished, after seventeen years, he was finally experiencing it. Yun Suiyi felt so happy he wanted to cry.

A faint smile remained on Lian Mu’s face. His usually cool and aloof features were now warmed with tenderness. He patiently looked after Yun Suiyi until he finished an entire bowl of rice, and then fed him a small bowl of nourishing soup. Only when Yun Suiyi patted his round stomach, hiccupping, and declared he couldn’t eat another bite, did Lian Mu stop.

After the meal, Lian Mu personally brought warm water, wrung out a warm cloth, and wiped Yun Suiyi’s mouth and fingers. Yun Suiyi allowed himself to be handled throughout, deeply cherishing this meticulous care.

He tilted his head back slightly, pulling his neck into an elegant line. His eyes were half-closed, his long lashes casting a small shadow on his eyelids, and a sound of contentment rumbled in his throat.

“If you’re still sleepy, sleep a little more,” Lian Mu said, picking up Yun Suiyi and placing him on the bed, tucking the blanket around him.

“Lian Mu, I feel like all I do is eat and sleep. That doesn’t seem right.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Lian Mu asked. “We already have the Soul-Returning Pearl. All that’s left is Xiao Cheng’s life. A day or two won’t matter. Be good, Yi Yi, sleep now.”

“Okay,” Yun Suiyi said, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

…

“Hmph, Lian Mu is such a big bad guy,” Yun Suiyi muttered under his breath, his face etched with anger. “He won’t let me see that old beast, but he runs off to drink tea and chat with him himself.”

Yun Suiyi was currently wandering aimlessly through the corridors of the Azure Cloud Sect, a blade of grass he’d snagged from somewhere dangling from his mouth. His hands were clasped behind his head, his steps as leisurely as if he were strolling through his own backyard.

He looked around, occasionally reaching out a finger to seemingly casually brush against a well-shaped pine and cypress bonsai next to a pillar. The faint Spiritual Power lingering on his fingertip seemed to make the pine needles pleasantly stretch a bit.

Yun Suiyi was pondering which direction to head in the Azure Cloud Sect, or where he could find a good spot to wander.

However, just as Yun Suiyi reached a relatively open courtyard and was about to turn past a screen wall, getting closer to the main gate area of the sect, his careless demeanor suddenly froze.

His steps involuntarily slowed, then stopped completely.

His eyes narrowed in that instant, sharp as a hawk’s. The blade of grass he had been chewing had slipped out unnoticed. The mask of laziness on his face instantly peeled away, replaced by an indescribable gravity and… excitement.

A presence—

A familiar presence, etched deep into his soul, one he would never mistake even if it turned to ash, drifted faintly in the air ahead, like a mist traveling through time.

The presence wasn’t strong, but to someone of Yun Suiyi’s cultivation, it was as clear and piercing as a torch in the dark night. It was mixed in with the unique scent of the Azure Cloud Sect, seeming out of place, yet it was like a rusty key that violently awakened him.

Yun Suiyi’s breathing nearly stopped in that moment. His hands, which could take a life without batting an eye, now curled up imperceptibly inside his wide sleeves.

She… she came looking for me!

At this thought, Yun Suiyi’s heart felt tightly squeezed by an invisible hand, then began to beat violently. It wasn’t fear, but a long-lost surge of emotion mixed with shock, disbelief, and a flicker of excitement that he himself was unwilling to examine too closely.

The two vermillion gates of the Azure Cloud Sect, symbols of righteous authority, were now stained a shocking dark red by warm, spilled blood. Dismembered limbs and fallen corpses were mixed together. The usual elegant sound of bells and chanting had been replaced by piercing screams and desperate wails.

Yun Xining stood at the center of the mountain of corpses and sea of blood, her figure seductive and cruel.

She wore a luxurious court dress, now splattered with crimson. Her hair was slightly messy, a few strands clinging to her pale, almost transparent cheeks.

What was most captivating were her eyes—those eyes held no human emotion, only chilling madness, venomous hatred, and a destructive delight.

She didn’t act personally, but standing behind her were several “puppets” with hollow eyes, stiff movements, and an ominous black aura surrounding them. These puppets were once famous cultivators, but now they were controlled by her evil arts, becoming the sharpest blades in her hand.

Every swing of an arm, every burst of Spiritual Power, was accompanied by the fall of an Azure Cloud Sect disciple. Yun Xining merely stood quietly, as if appreciating a carefully choreographed dance of death, occasionally letting out a few suppressed, light laughs. The laughter was hollow and shrill, like a demonic sound from hell.

“Is this the Azure Cloud Sect?” Her lips moved slightly, her voice emerging with a metallic coldness and a hint of morbid pleasure. “Pathetic.”

Just as she was about to order the puppets to advance deeper into the Azure Cloud Sect, intending to completely burn down this so-called foundation of the righteous path, a gust of wind, without warning, swept through the chaotic battlefield.

The wind was light, yet it carried a strange penetrative force, scattering the nauseating smell of burning flesh mixed with the scent of blood.

Yun Xining’s mad eyes suddenly narrowed.

The puppets behind her also seemed to sense something. Their movements froze simultaneously, and their hollow gazes turned toward the depths of the courtyard.

There, at the corner of the screen wall, a figure stood silently, having appeared at some unknown time.

The person wore a green robe, which made him highly inconspicuous among the green attire of the Azure Cloud Sect disciples. However, what drew the most attention was the mask he wore—a half-mask of peculiar texture, seemingly composed of countless ancient patterns, covering his high nose bridge and tightly pressed lips.

The material of the mask did not look cheap; it seemed to be inlaid with several strands of dark gold thread, which shimmered faintly under the dappled tree shadows. Far from making him look ugly, the mask accentuated the eyes exposed above it, making them appear deeper and sharper, like lonely stars in a cold night.

He appeared so abruptly, as if he had naturally grown out of the shadows, without stirring a breath of wind or making a sound.

The hearts of the Azure Cloud Sect disciples present skipped a beat. They could sense that the masked man before them carried a deeper, more complex, and more dangerous aura—a sense of chaos that seemed capable of swallowing everything yet encompassing everything.

“Are you a disciple of my Azure Cloud Sect?”

The man in green—Yun Suiyi—did not answer.

He simply walked slowly, step by step, toward Yun Xining. His pace was slow, yet every step seemed to land in the gap between heartbeats, steady and powerful.

He did not summon any magical artifacts or display any Spiritual Power fluctuations. When he reached ten paces from Yun Xining, he stopped.

His bottomless eyes, visible through the mask’s openings, calmly observed her. Then, he performed a gesture that surprised everyone present.

He extended his hand toward her.

The hand was long, pale, and bony, holding no weapon. It simply hovered in mid-air, palm upward, as if issuing an invitation.

“Why did you come?” His voice was low and clear, carrying a strange resonance through the mask’s covering. It was devoid of emotion, yet possessed an undeniable authority.

“Yun Suiyi!” The puppets behind her seemed to sense her emotion and let out a roar.

“Yun Suiyi, what did I send you here to do?”

“I have already obtained what you wanted,” Yun Suiyi replied.

“Really?” Yun Xining’s mood instantly became joyful.

“When have I ever lied to you?” Yun Suiyi smiled. “Take this back first. A-Zhao is waiting for you.”

Yun Xining hesitated slightly.

“Be obedient. I will deal with that beast quickly, and then I will return, return to be with you.”

“Alright,” Yun Xining nodded. “Yun Suiyi, you must return as soon as possible. You promised me you would help me take revenge.”

“Yes, I promised you. Since childhood, what promise have I ever failed to keep?”

“Go back quickly. A-Zhao is waiting for you. He has been asleep for so long; he must be eager to wake up and play.”

“Yes, I must hurry back to see my A-Zhao.” Yun Xining took the box from Yun Suiyi’s hand. Before turning to leave, she issued a command: “Yun Suiyi, I don’t care what method you use, I must hear of that old beast’s death before tomorrow.”

“Good, I promise you.”

Having received a satisfactory answer, Yun Xining’s figure vanished from the Azure Cloud Sect.

So you weren’t here at the Azure Cloud Sect for me.

You weren’t concerned about how I was doing here?

Nor were you worried about whether I had sacrificed myself.

Yun Suiyi lowered his eyes, concealing the emotions within. The expressionless mask on his face now seemed to amplify his inner bitterness.

The peach blossom eyes behind the mask’s eye holes, usually lively and cunning, were now devoid of spirit, leaving only an unresolvable, ink-like sorrow and exhaustion. Although his mouth was fixed by the mask’s sharp lines, the subtle curve of the muscles pulling at the mask’s edge was clearly a silent, bitter smile. It was the helplessness of seeing through the absurdity of the world but being powerless to change it, forced to swallow all the bitter consequences alone.

Forget it. It’s not the first time.

“Who exactly are you?” An Azure Cloud Sect disciple, seeing Yun Suiyi remain motionless for a long time, bravely asked.

“Me?” Yun Suiyi’s voice carried a hint of laughter, yet it sounded only bitter.

“Naturally, I’m here to kill you all for her.”

As Yun Suiyi’s words fell, the disciple who had questioned him collapsed to the ground.