In the tranquil Mirror Cloud Residence, night fell without a ripple.
Today was Mi Xingzhe's birthday—but he had never spoken of it. To him, birthdays were not celebrations. They were reminders: an abandoned infant, a name that began with loss.
Sleep wouldn't come. In the end, Mi Xingzhe slipped out to the courtyard, craving a little air and a little silence.
The peach trees swayed gently in the dark. Moonlight spilled across the white stone path, bright enough to feel cold. Wrapped in a blue cloak over his white robe, Mi Xingzhe walked slowly, head tilted back to the star-filled sky. His eyes—usually quick with nervousness—held a deep, quiet sadness tonight.
Everything still felt unreal. A beggar boy chased and beaten, then suddenly taken into an immortal sect. Precious pills. A place to sleep. Even… people who called him family. These were things he'd once only dared to want, and in a handful of months they had arrived all at once, like a dream that might vanish if he blinked too hard.
In the faint silver light, he noticed a figure standing in the distant courtyard, facing the moon as if in conversation with it.
His master.
The pale glow wrapped Li Luoning's jade-colored robe, and the hem stirred softly in the night breeze. Under the moon, Li Luoning's slender silhouette looked almost fragile. One hand rested behind his back; the other seemed to hold something, though the shape was lost in shadow. He stood still, lost in thought.
Mi Xingzhe didn't want to disturb him. He sat down quietly by the corridor, keeping his voice low.
"Master… are you unable to sleep as well?"
Li Luoning turned at the sound. The moment he saw Mi Xingzhe, he strode over, the concern in his face sharper than the night air.
"The night is chilly. Why are you dressed so lightly?"
Mi Xingzhe didn't answer directly. His gaze remained lowered, as if he didn't trust the words in his throat.
"Is Master also unable to sleep tonight?" he asked again, softly.
Li Luoning sighed and reached out, tightening Mi Xingzhe's cloak and collar with careful fingers.
"You're still recovering. Don't catch cold."
Mi Xingzhe gave a small, humorless smile, lashes fluttering as he pushed away memories he didn't want to touch.
"It's fine. Before coming to the Liao Yin Immortal Realm… the nights where I lived were much colder than this."
Li Luoning seemed to sense what lay beneath that sentence. He didn't press. He simply sat down beside Mi Xingzhe, shoulder to shoulder in the quiet.
A moment later, Li Luoning lifted his hand. A wine jug appeared as if drawn from moonlight itself. He took a sip—unhurried—then held it out.
Mi Xingzhe blinked, surprised.
"Master… you're letting me drink?"
Li Luoning's lips curved faintly.
"In ordinary families, once someone comes of age, they can marry and have children." His gaze slid toward Mi Xingzhe, calm and matter-of-fact. "Why shouldn't you be allowed to drink?"
Something in Mi Xingzhe's chest tightened. He took the jug with both hands.
Under the moon, with two people and their unspoken thoughts, a jug of wine felt… appropriate.
He drank too fast.
The sweet, clear brew hit his throat, unfamiliar and sharp in its purity, and he choked hard.
"Cough—cough—cough…"
Li Luoning immediately took the jug back and steadied him, one hand supporting his shoulder until the coughing eased.
For a long moment, Li Luoning looked up at the moon, eyes distant—as if he, too, had learned the shape of loneliness long ago.
Then he spoke, quietly.
"Nian… would you like to tell your master about your past?"
Mi Xingzhe turned his head slightly. In the moonlight, Li Luoning's expression was composed, but his eyes were full of things unsaid.
Mi Xingzhe's lashes trembled.
After a brief silence, he nodded.
"Alright."
On nights like this, it was easy to open the door to words you normally kept locked.
"Today is my birthday," Mi Xingzhe said softly. "But I don't like celebrating it. I was an abandoned infant… raised by Grandfather Mi."
Li Luoning didn't interrupt. He simply listened, steady as stone beside him.
Mi Xingzhe continued, voice quiet, careful.
"Grandfather Mi named me Xingzhe… from a Note in my swaddling clothes." His fingers curled lightly against his sleeve. "But he didn't know many characters. He chose two he recognized. He told me the poem had something to do with where I came from."
Li Luoning's gaze sharpened slightly.
"Do you remember the lines?"
Mi Xingzhe nodded.
"I can recite them, but I can't write them. Once, I met a kind big brother who read them to me." His mouth tightened. "Later I was sold. The trafficker took everything I had on me. But I still remember the words."
Li Luoning turned to look at him, voice gentle.
"Will you recite them to me? If they truly relate to your origin, they may hold clues."
Mi Xingzhe let out a small breath, almost a laugh that didn't quite form.
"Alright. But even if there are clues, it wouldn't matter." He waved his hand faintly, dismissal edged with old hurt. "I was abandoned as an infant. If they wanted me… they wouldn't have left me."
Li Luoning didn't argue immediately. He only asked, quietly, as if testing a wound to see how deep it ran.
"But you're different now. Don't you want to know who your birth parents are?"
Mi Xingzhe's gaze went cold—lonely, controlled.
"I don't." His voice was flat. "If they didn't want me, why should I go back and make trouble for myself?"
Li Luoning lifted his eyes to the moon again. The light caught the calm line of his profile, making him look both distant and impossibly steady.
"Maybe," he said, voice low, "they had reasons you couldn't have understood back then."
The night remained quiet.
Mi Xingzhe snatched the wine jug back, took a long, reckless gulp, wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, then drew in a deep breath and slowly recited:
"The moon falls, flowers break, and partings stretch on without end;
Stars sink, leaves turn northward as dusk deepens.
Love reaches its peak—only for blossoms to scatter at last;
Resentment halts at the other shore, where the heart still cannot rest.
All things are unfeeling, the heart without desire;
The mortal world is cold and thin, yet still holds warmth.
Sever thought, cut words—emptiness across the Three Realms;
Cold stains dark meditation, a fall that chills the Nine Provinces."
"How desolate," he said at last. "I wonder what the one who wrote this poem had experienced at the time."
"I don't know who wrote it either," Mi Xingzhe replied calmly. "The big brother who read it to me never mentioned a name."
Li Luoning looked at the young disciple before him. On that youthful face lay a sorrow far beyond his years—his gaze hollow, his frame thin and fragile, carrying an air of helpless resignation.
"Master?" Mi Xingzhe asked softly, "why did you take me as your disciple?"
Li Luoning smiled faintly. "Because I wished to."
"But I…" Mi Xingzhe hesitated, then continued. "I used to be someone everyone avoided—a use—an empty spirit body. In the Liaoyin Immortal Realm, there are so many immortal youths and attendants with excellent aptitude. Yet Master chose me, even searched for a golden core for me, did so much… There must be a reason."
The word 'useless' nearly slipped out, but when Mi Xingzhe saw the change in Li Luoning's expression at the hint of it, he swallowed the word back down.
This time, Li Luoning simply lifted a hand and gently ruffled Mi Xingzhe's hair.
"My disciple is naturally different from all others."
Then he placed the wine jug back into Mi Xingzhe's hands and turned to leave.
The next afternoon, Yun Qingyi carried a pot of tea into the study for Li Luoning.
"Master," he said carefully, "Nian slept a little too long today. It's already past midday meal. Should I go wake him?"
"No need." Li Luoning kept his attention on whatever he was working on in his hands. "Leave some pastries in his room. Let him sleep."
As he spoke, Mi Xingzhe happened to step into the study.
"Master~ Good morning. Senior brother~ Good morning." His mood seemed much lighter today, his greeting bright and carefree.
"Morning?" Yun Qingyi smiled as gently as ever, but the scolding crept into his tone. "It's almost time for evening meal."
"I last night…" Mi Xingzhe had meant to tell Yun Qingyi about what happened with Li Luoning the night before, but he barely got the words out before Li Luoning cut him off.
"Copy this heart technique once," Li Luoning said, tossing an ancient book toward him. "If there are characters you don't recognize, have Qingyi teach you. Bring it to me for review before dinner."
"Aah, again?" Mi Xingzhe groaned. "I've been copying heart techniques for months…"
Yun Qingyi flipped the book open, glanced over it, and soothed him softly. "It isn't long. It's all basic technique you'll use every day. You have to know these by heart before you can apply them naturally later."
"Grrrk… grrk…" Mi Xingzhe's stomach chose that moment to betray him loudly.
Li Luoning flicked him a glance, rose to his feet, and slipped something into his sleeve. His voice softened.
"You stay here and copy. I'll come back later to check."
"Thank you, Master!" he called after Li Luoning's retreating back.
"Alright." Yun Qingyi began laying out paper for him. "I'll go bring you the medicine I warmed up several times this morning. You behave and copy properly."
Mi Xingzhe nodded obediently. He sat down, lifted the brush, and made a show of working.
Then he waited.
When he was certain both of them had gone far enough—
Mi Xingzhe sprang up, tiptoed out, and slipped straight toward Li Luoning's wine storeroom.
Deep inside the storeroom, in the back of a cabinet, several turquoise-blue wine jugs sat in a neat row. Mi Xingzhe lifted one and sniffed.
"Mmm—so fragrant. This must be the one Sister Ruoling talked about."
He took two without hesitation and left.
When Yun Qingyi returned to the study with the bowl of medicine, the writing couch was empty.
He sighed and shook his head. "I can't take my eyes off him for even a moment… and he's run off again."
With a resigned expression, Yun Qingyi sat down and began copying the heart technique for him.
It was already near midnight when Mi Xingzhe finally stumbled back.
As he pushed through the doorway, he walked straight into Yun Qingyi.
"Senior brooother~" Mi Xingzhe slurred, a little tipsy, grinning shamelessly as if he'd done nothing wrong. "Were you waiting for me?"
"Nian Nian." Yun Qingyi hurried to steady him, then leaned closer and immediately recoiled at the smell. "Where did you go all afternoon? You—ah… why do you reek of wine?"
Mi Xingzhe waved a hand lazily, tongue thick, words blurred. "Went to drink with Senior Sister Ruoling. And let me tell you—her tolerance is really something."
Yun Qingyi stared at the wine jug in his hand, irritation rising. "Why did you suddenly decide to go drinking? And didn't I tell you this prescription has dietary restrictions? Where did you even get alcohol?"
Mi Xingzhe, half leaning on him, staggered forward. "Senior brother, yesterday I—" He flapped his hand vaguely. "This wine… it's… it's from Master's storeroom."
Yun Qingyi's headache doubled.
"You—" He grabbed Mi Xingzhe by the ear with a sharp tug, scolding despite himself. "Drunk like this, heart technique not copied, medicine not taken… I swear you've been itching for trouble lately. If Master catches you, he'll tear you apart."
"Ah—ow, ow, ow!" Mi Xingzhe yelped, clutching at Yun Qingyi's wrist. "Senior brother—let go!"
"Shh." Yun Qingyi hissed, glancing around. "Lower your voice. If you wake Master, I'm not saving you."
He clapped a hand over Mi Xingzhe's mouth, then half-dragged, half-carried him toward Mi Xingzhe's room.
The two of them stumbled down the corridor, Mi Xingzhe acting wild on borrowed wine courage the entire way.
"Senior brother~" Mi Xingzhe leaned in too close, breath hot with alcohol. "Why are you always so good to me?"
"Because you're my only junior brother." Yun Qingyi fanned the air in front of his face with obvious disgust at the smell, yet his voice stayed gentle. "Shouldn't I be good to you?"
"Senior brother, you know what's strange?" Mi Xingzhe's steps were light and unsteady, one arm slung around Yun Qingyi's shoulders. He spoke with drunken earnestness. "The first time I saw you, I felt… close to you. Like I'd met you before. Like we already knew each other."
He squinted up at Yun Qingyi with a mischievous smile, then tapped Yun Qingyi's nose with a finger.
"And when you smile, you look really good."
"Hey—careful." Yun Qingyi kept warning him, half hauling him along. "Don't fall. Alright, alright, I get it. Watch your step."
[Nian… I feel it too. Every time I see you, I feel that strange familiarity.]
Mi Xingzhe laughed softly, then suddenly flung his arms wide as if embracing the whole world.
"Senior brother! I have a golden core now—I won't dissolve into nothing anymore. When I become really powerful one day, I'll give you and Master the best of everything!"
Then he lunged forward and hugged Yun Qingyi around the waist, squeezing hard.
"Alright, alright." Yun Qingyi smiled despite himself, patting his back. "Our Nian Nian is the most impressive."
Truthfully, Yun Qingyi hadn't expected Mi Xingzhe—usually timid and easily frightened—to become such a chatty, adorable menace when drunk.
Mi Xingzhe's expression shifted suddenly, tears threatening. He stopped in the corridor as if something inside him had snapped.
"Senior brother… do you know?" His voice trembled, the drunkenness turning into something raw. "No one ever treated me like you and Master do. They all hated me. They called me a useless nobody. Because I was an empty spirit body, they beat me… and they sold me over and over. I tried to run. I tried so many times."
His voice broke.
"But they always caught me again. Locked me up. No food."
Yun Qingyi's eyes filled with helpless pain. He reached out and stroked Mi Xingzhe's head gently, as if soothing a frightened child.
"Nian Nian." His voice softened completely. "With your senior brother here, no one will bully you again. No one will make you go hungry or freeze."
Mi Xingzhe leaned closer, eyes blurry, smiling through tears. "Senior brother… I've never been as happy as I've been these past few months."
"And you will be happy like this from now on." Yun Qingyi's hand moved soothingly along his back, his tone firm—like a vow to Mi Xingzhe, or perhaps to himself. "I won't let you suffer even a little injustice again."
"Good." Mi Xingzhe suddenly spun away from Yun Qingyi's support, arms lifted high, turning in place like a child. "Then I'll love you and Li Luoning a lot too!"
"Naughty." Yun Qingyi poked his forehead, gentle but strict, smiling despite it. "It's 'Master.' You're not allowed to call him by name."
At last, wobbling and half-laughing, they reached Mi Xingzhe's door.
They stepped inside—
—and found Li Luoning waiting in the main room.
His face was dark, brows tightly drawn. He stood with both hands behind his back, posture rigid and still.
He had clearly been waiting for a long time.