Dongfang Bubai · Chat

In the early morning, a light mist blanketed Blackwood Cliff, shrouding the pavilions of the Sun Moon Holy Cult in a hazy veil that made them appear indistinct yet imbued with an air of mystique. Through the thin mist, two women in yellow robes stood before a carved wooden door, looks of anxious dread on their faces. In recent days, the new Cult Leader had ascended the throne and appointed Young Master Yang Lianting as the cult's Chief Manager. Normally by this hour, the Chief Manager would have risen early to attend to the Leader's morning grooming, yet why was there still no stir even though it was already so late today? "Sister Cangqin, should we..." Before Biyue could finish her sentence, Cangqin cut her off with a grim expression. "Foolish. Whenever the Chief Manager wakes, that is when we shall serve him. If you are unwilling to wait, go work in the back kitchens from now on—that way you might keep your neck intact." Who in the cult did not know that Manager Yang held the Cult Leader's trust? Even if she harbored personal dislike for Yang Lianting, she dared not offend him. "Understood." Biyue realized she had spoken out of turn and lowered her head, not daring to utter another word. Just as the two fell silent, the sound of porcelain shattering suddenly came from inside the room. They exchanged a glance. Cangqin gritted her teeth, suppressed the dread in her heart, and spoke, "Manager Yang, are you awake? The maids are here to attend to your dressing." No response came from within for a long while. Just as the two began to think Yang Lianting was going to ignore them, a raspy voice drifted from the room: "Enter." They pushed the door open gently, only to see the man inside with his dark hair disheveled over his shoulders, dressed in white inner robes, with a hint of exhaustion on his handsome face. Not daring to look too long, they stepped forward to dress Yang Lianting, wash his face, and tie up his hair, though at a pace notably faster than usual. Just as Cangqin was fastening jade pendants one after another to Yang Lianting's waist, Yang Lianting, whose face had remained expressionless, spoke, "Enough. Leave those aside." Cangqin's hand holding the jade pendant trembled, and she silently stepped aside. Yang Lianting glanced at the panic on her face, his brow furrowing slightly. He turned his head to look out at the mist-covered courtyard, an unhideable confusion and shock in his eyes. "What time is it?" Yang Lianting brushed the long hair on his shoulder with slight unease, pushing down the turmoil and bewilderment in his chest. "Reporting to the Manager, it is already the hour of Mao." Biyue glanced at the sky outside, swallowing her next sentence about how the Cult Leader was already awake. Smoothing his white silk robe, Yang Lianting let out a breath. Under the watchful eyes of the two maids, he stepped out of the room at an unhurried pace. The sea of clouds over Blackwood Cliff still surged with the same white waves as in the memory of his final battle, but he was not wearing the brocade python robe of the Blackwood Cliff Chief Manager; he was wearing the old clothes from over a decade ago when he still served in the Wind and Thunder Hall. He looked up at the main altar atop the cliff, adorned with soaring dragons and phoenixes. The four characters "Sun Moon Holy Cult" on the horizontal plaque burned his eyes so painfully that the corners stung, and his throat felt choked with a lump of red-hot charcoal. "Manager Yang, you've come. The Cult Leader has risen and is waiting for you." When a green-clad woman suddenly emerged from a corner, Yang Lianting had already managed to keep his smile from faltering. He looked at the lovely maid, "I overslept a bit today. Please forgive me, Maiden Lüluo." "You are too polite, Manager Yang," the green-clad woman said, though her face showed how much she enjoyed the courtesy. She was originally one who served in Dongfang Bubai's private courtyard; even the seven concubines had to show her some respect. With Yang Lianting treating her so politely now, she naturally felt quite pleased. As Lüluo led the way, she said, "Manager Yang, you arrived late today. The Cult Leader might reprimand you, so please attend to him carefully." "Thank you for the reminder, Maiden Lüluo," Yang Lianting smiled and cupped his hands in greeting, coaxing a soft chuckle from Lüluo. Approaching the outside of Dongfang Bubai's quarters, Lüluo lightened her steps and dared not converse with him any further. Yang Lianting also consciously softened his footsteps. According to his memories, the current Dongfang did not yet harbor any special affection for him; he only trusted him a little. Offending him at this point would mean losing even the chance to atone—he would simply end up dead. "Leader, Yang Lianting requests an audience," Yang Lianting stood outside the door. Even across the doorway, a trace of respect and longing involuntarily colored his tone. "Enter." The voice was still so familiar. Thinking this, Yang Lianting gently pushed the door open. With a single glance, he saw the man seated before the mirror. He froze slightly; it had been many years since he last saw such a youthful Dongfang. With his dark hair flowing loose, pale skin, phoenix eyes with a slanted, mesmerizing glance, and long eyebrows reaching his temples, he wore a white satin robe bordered with exquisite embroidered patterns. Lacking the coarseness of an ordinary man, he possessed an elegance and uninhibited grace that no maiden could match. For a moment, only one phrase came to Yang Lianting's mind: peerless magnificence. Seeing Yang Lianting—who usually came flattering and fawning upon sight—now standing frozen at the doorway, Dongfang Bubai's brow furrowed slightly. "It seems Manager Yang was somewhat fond of his bed today." A plain, casual remark made a sudden cold sweat break out on Yang Lianting. He bowed with cupped hands, "This subordinate was negligent. I beg the Leader's punishment." Dongfang Bubai looked the man before him up and down. His appearance was clearly the same as before, so why did he feel somewhat different today? He slowly withdrew his gaze, turned back to look at himself in the mirror, and said languidly, "Forget it. Bind my hair for me." Seeing that Dongfang Bubai seemed to have no intention of reprimanding him, Yang Lianting stepped forward, picked up the horn comb from the dressing table, and gently gathered the lustrous black hair before him. Dongfang's current dressing style was still relatively masculine, so Yang Lianting chose a more traditional hairstyle: leaving part of the hair draped over his shoulders while binding the rest with a jade crown. Such a style was neither too overtly masculine to provoke Dongfang Bubai's inner displeasure, nor overly feminine, instead lending him the refined aura of a jade-faced noble gentleman. After finishing the hair, Yang Lianting found an outer robe to put on Dongfang Bubai; early spring on Blackwood Cliff was not warm in the least. After the clothes came the shoes. In any case, Yang Lianting now felt that being this so-called Chief Manager—managing Dongfang Bubai's daily life, clothing, and meals rather than the grand logistical affairs of the cult—was quite wonderful. Dongfang Bubai watched the man drop to one knee to put on his shoes, his expression shifting slightly. In the past, though Yang Lianting attended to his dressing, putting on shoes was something he had always done himself. Why was he putting on his shoes for him today? "Leader, would you like breakfast now?" The man looked up and asked with a slight smile on his face. Dongfang Bubai stared at that gentle smile, momentarily dazed, then stood up and said coldly, "Have them bring it up." Seated in a carved wooden chair, Dongfang Bubai rested his gaze upon Yang Lianting standing by the doorway. That unmasked stare made the smile on Yang Lianting's face turn slightly stiff. Lüluo's arrival broke this strange atmosphere. Over a dozen breakfast dishes were placed on the mahogany table in the room. Several maids entered to serve Dongfang Bubai as he washed his hands and rinsed his mouth, after which Dongfang Bubai finally picked up his chopsticks. Looking at the breakfast before him, his expression remained indifferent, as if what lay in front of him was not a delicious meal, but a chore that had to be consumed. Sure enough, after taking merely two bites with his chopsticks, Dongfang Bubai set them down. "Clear it away." Lüluo's face paled, and she immediately replied, "Yes." Lately, the Cult Leader's temper was unpredictable; no one dared cross his wishes. Those who did met only death. "Leader, please eat a little more. This is not good for your health," Yang Lianting couldn't help speaking up as he saw Dongfang Bubai's pale complexion. "Without proper nourishment, how will you have the energy to manage the cult's affairs?" The room's already heavy atmosphere practically froze solid. Lüluo's hands, which were just about to clear the tableware, froze in place; only she knew how icy her palms were and how wildly her heart was pounding. Dongfang Bubai's gaze slowly shifted toward Yang Lianting, finally coming to rest on Yang Lianting's eyes. After a long silence, he uttered a single word: "Oh?"