As he watched the dragon candle burning at his side, Yingde Gengchen found himself drifting back into the past.
Years ago — the Dragon Palace
"Reporting to Your Majesty. During today's patrol, we found this boy collapsed on the shore."
A soldier brought a fainted child before Yingde Gengchen.
The instant Yingde Gengchen saw him, his pupils tightened—sharp as a blade's edge.
"This child's body shows no grave injury," the Medicine King said slowly after examining him. "He's simply too weak and hasn't eaten for some time, so he fainted. A few nourishing prescriptions and a period of careful recuperation should be enough."
"I've troubled you to come all the way to my palace," Yingde Gengchen said.
"With our friendship, do you really need to say thanks?" The Medicine King looked at him knowingly. "This child… what do you intend to do, Brother Kangchen?"
No one understood Yingde better than the Medicine King. If Yingde had summoned him personally, then this child had already taken root in Yingde's heart.
"This child's identity is… special." Yingde Gengchen nodded, his voice heavy. "I intend to keep him by my side, and take him as my adopted son."
Yingde Gengchen placed power into his palm and eased a strand of spiritual force into the child's body. A blue-cold glow streamed out from between the boy's brows—and within that glow, something flickered, unmistakably.
"That is…?" The Medicine King gasped, staring at the light, then at Yingde Gengchen.
Yingde Gengchen gave the smallest nod. He withdrew his power, and the glow sank away, returning everything to stillness.
Years later...
The boy had grown into a handsome youth. One day he sat alone by the water, staring into space.
"Han."
"Godfather." Seeing Yingde Gengchen, the youth rose, dropped to one knee, and clasped his fist in salute.
"Han, how many times have I told you?" Yingde Gengchen's displeasure surfaced at once. "That veil must not be removed."
"I only… saw no one around," the youth explained quickly, lowering his head. "So I thought I could take it off for a moment and breathe."
"Come with me," Yingde Gengchen said. "We're going somewhere."
The mortal world — a teahouse private room
In a secluded chamber above the bustling street, Li Minghan leaned lazily against the window lattice. A white veil covered his face as he watched the crowd below.
Yingde Gengchen sat across from him, sipping tea, as though waiting for someone.
"Apologies for keeping you waiting, Uncle."
With the voice, a man stepped inside.
He looked about Li Minghan's age: black-and-gold hair crown, dark ink brocade, a gold sash at his waist, and deep blue boots. His brows were sharp and lifted with a soldier's spirit; his gaze, long and clear—emerald eyes beneath winter-cold lashes—yet his voice flowed like spring water. A high bridge of nose, pale rose lips: every detail spoke of restrained nobility.
Li Minghan couldn't help his curiosity. Yingde Gengchen had no biological children. The people Li Minghan saw most were maids and soldiers. He had never met a peer with such presence and refinement.
"Zhajia, please sit," Yingde Gengchen said with a rare smile, motioning him in.
He then gestured to Li Minghan to come closer. Only then did Li Minghan return to himself, walking to the table to sit at Yingde's right.
"Zhajia, let me introduce you." Yingde Gengchen's tone warmed. "This is Minghan—my adopted son. Han, this is Shentu Zhajia, son of my elder brother."
"I am Li Minghan," Li Minghan said, giving a formal salute.
"I am Shentu Zhajia." Shentu Zhajia smiled gently. "If you don't mind, since you are Father's son, you may call me 'older brother' from now on."
"Han'er was unwell in the past, so he rarely left the palace," Yingde Gengchen said. "Now he's come of age. The two of you should see each other more."
And as Yingde said, so it became. From then on, Shentu Zhajia and Li Minghan often met at a lakeside pavilion hidden deep in the mountains. Li Minghan played the zither; Shentu Zhajia practiced sword. With no one to disturb them, they drank, talked through the night, and laughed as if the world held nothing sharper than moonlight. Shentu Zhajia once gifted Li Minghan a qin named Canglin Qilü for his birthday.
One day Shentu Zhajia finally asked what had been on his mind for far too long.
"Brother Han… ever since I met you, you've worn that veil every day. Why can't you show your true face?"
"Godfather warned me again and again—under no circumstances may I show my real appearance," Li Minghan said, thinking of childhood. He even smiled faintly. "As for the reason… I'm not entirely sure."
"Not even to me?" A flicker of pain passed through Shentu Zhajia's eyes.
Li Minghan shook his head.
"But I'm your brother," Shentu Zhajia complained, visibly unhappy. "We've known each other for years, and I still don't even know what you look like. What does that say about our bond?"
"Do you really want to see?" Li Minghan asked quietly.
"Yes. I do." Shentu Zhajia nodded hard, earnest as a vow.
Li Minghan sighed.
He formed a seal and murmured an incantation. The binding on the ornament at his ear shattered with a soft crack. Slowly—almost reluctantly—he lifted the veil away.
The Dragon King's study
Li Minghan knelt on the floor.
The moment he had broken the seal on the veil, he'd already known what awaited him when he returned.
"I know my fault," Li Minghan said, voice low. "I beg Godfather to safeguard your health."
He had expected anger—but not this level of fury. Ink paintings and calligraphy lay scattered across the room, thrown down in rage. Li Minghan stared at them, throat tight, too afraid to speak.
"How many times have I told you?" Yingde Gengchen roared. "You are not to show your true face—why won't you listen!"
"I just… don't understand," Li Minghan said, bitterness rising. "Brother Zhajia isn't an outsider. Why can't even he know what I truly look like?"
"I said no." Yingde Gengchen's sleeve snapped as he turned away. "And no means no. From now on, you are forbidden to associate with Zhajia."
Panic seized Li Minghan at once. Shentu Zhajia was his only friend, the only person he had.
"Godfather—please." Li Minghan shuffled forward on his knees, voice shaking. "I am so sorry. I swear I'll never remove the veil again. Please—just this once—please forgive me."
Yingde Gengchen's back remained turned. He said nothing, only exhaled a long, slow breath.
The silence was an answer.
Li Minghan crawled closer, his voice breaking.
"Godfather… Brother Zhajia is my only true friend. I only wanted to be honest with him. I swear I won't take off the veil in front of him ever again—please don't forbid us from meeting. I know I was wrong. I truly know. Please I am sorry."
His words carried a sob.
Still no reply.
Then Yingde Gengchen spoke at last, voice cold enough to freeze the sea.
"Guards. Drag the young master out. Twenty strokes. Confine him to the dark chamber for three months. Without my permission, he is not to step beyond the Dragon Palace."
With that, Yingde Gengchen reached out and took the travel token from Li Minghan's waist.
The dark chamber
Beaten until his body was a field of bruises, Li Minghan curled in a corner and cried without sound.
He couldn't understand. Why? Why must he wear that damned veil every day?
All his life, every time he even mentioned it, punishment followed. Usually it was only the ruler in Godfather's hand—this was the first time he'd been caned. And when he remembered Yingde Gengchen's cold eyes as he'd been dragged away, tears spilled uncontrollably.
"Does Godfather… not want me anymore?"
For years, Yingde's attitude had made him feel forever on the edge of abandonment.
He knew he was adopted. He knew this life wasn't something he could take for granted. So he had always been careful—so careful—terrified that one misstep would send him back to the water's surface where he'd been found.
Knock, knock…
Creaaak…
The door opened.
A silhouette slipped inside, moving quietly in the dark.
"Minghan? Are you here?"
That voice—
Brother Zhajia.
Li Minghan jolted. He hurriedly wiped his tear-streaked face with his sleeve and answered hoarsely, "Brother… I'm here."
There were no lamps in the chamber. Shentu Zhajia fumbled for a long time before finding him, then lit a candle in secret.
"How did you know I was locked in here?" Li Minghan asked.
"I went to find you today. The guards at the palace gate wouldn't let me in—and they told me I never needed to come looking for you again." Shentu Zhajia's jaw tightened. "So I guessed you were punished over the veil."
As he spoke, he pulled out a small medicine bottle.
"After that, I slipped in quietly and bribed the maidservants in your residence. That's how I learned the truth." Shentu Zhajia tore off a strip of cloth, poured medicine powder onto it, and began to gently wipe the wounds on Li Minghan's back. "It's just a veil—why would Uncle be so furious?"
"Don't blame him," Li Minghan said, forcing steadiness into his voice. "He set this rule when I was little. He must have his reasons. I broke it knowingly this time… I doubt I'll be allowed to see you again for a long while."
His hands clenched so hard his knuckles went white. The pain in his back burned, but he didn't want Zhajia to hear it in his breathing.
"It's absurd," Shentu Zhajia muttered, still applying the medicine. "You aren't disfigured. With a face as refined and handsome as yours, why can't you show it? Uncle is being unreasonable."
"I can't make sense of it either." Li Minghan sighed. "I probably won't be able to meet you at the Lakeside Pavilion for some time. Maybe when Godfather's anger cools, I'll beg him again."
"It's fine." Shentu Zhajia's voice softened. "He said you can't go out. He didn't say I can't come in."
He paused, then pressed something into Li Minghan's hand.
"Here—take this."
It was a pendant: black-and-gold carved metal shot through with a hint of crimson, shaped like a small shield.
"This is called the Drunken Demon Shield," Shentu Zhajia said. "Wear it at all times. If you ever need me, use it to summon me."
Back to the present — Wuming Demon Mountain
In his sleeping hall, Li Minghan stared at the pendant in his hand. His grip tightened until the edges bit into his palm.
His gaze darkened.
And then he fell into yet another memory.
The Dragon Palace gardens
With nothing to do, Li Minghan wandered the palace grounds. Without realizing it, he found himself outside Yingde Gengchen's sleeping quarters.
"It's been a long time since that day… and I haven't seen Godfather," he murmured, staring at the doors from afar.
He must not want to see me.
With a quiet sigh, he turned to leave.
"Young Master Li…"
The maids' voices stopped him mid-step.
Li Minghan turned instinctively—and saw someone stepping into the sleeping quarters.
In that instant, he sucked in a sharp breath.
On the bed lay Yingde Gengchen, pallid and weak, voice thin.
"Ning… I've troubled you to come again."
"Ning?" Li Minghan's mind went blank.
That name—why did it sound like it belonged somewhere it wasn't?
The man beside the bed lifted his hand to take Yingde's pulse.
His voice was gentle, even lightly scolding.
"What have you been so angry about again, Your Majesty? I told you—do not stir your temper."
Yingde Gengchen waved weakly. "An old set of bones. No need to worry too much."
"The Medicine King knows your temper," the young man said, opening his medicine case. "He asked me to deliver some calming Fushen incense. The medicine you just took will temporarily settle your liver fire, but you'll feel weak for a while. Rest, and you'll be fine."
He took out a small sachet of incense.
"That old fox thinks everything through," Yingde Gengchen said with a faint, fond smile. "It's been some time since I've seen him, come to think of it."
"I heard the Medicine King has been refining pills that benefit cultivation," the young man replied softly. "Perhaps he's busier than usual. If you miss him, I can pass along a message—he'll surely come when he has time."
"No need." Yingde Gengchen chuckled, shaking his head. "That old man—if he truly wants to drink and play chess, no matter how busy he is, he'll come on his own."
They spoke easily, warmly—like family.
Outside the window, Li Minghan watched every word, every expression, every quiet laugh.
He saw the tenderness on Yingde Gengchen's face.
A kindness he had never received.
And the man inside—clean, bright, calm as spring water—every movement refined, every gesture dignified. A true gentleman in bearing.
Li Minghan suddenly reached up under his veil and touched his own face, fingers trembling.
So this was it.
This was the real reason Godfather forced him to hide.
A hole seemed to open in Li Minghan's chest, widening until he couldn't breathe. His knees gave out. He slid down the wall and sat on the cold ground, numb.
"So that's why," he whispered. "That's why I can't show my face."
Then, shakily:
"Who am I…?"
"And who is he?"
When Li Luoning finally left, Li Minghan rose slowly, ready to disappear before anyone noticed.
But a voice came from inside the room—quiet, inevitable.
"You saw it all, didn't you?"
Yingde Gengchen had already known he was there.