He Cultivated in Seclusion for a Hundred Years, Abstaining from Women, Yet He Personally Wrote a Marriage Contract for You

Ye Lingling was stunned for a moment.

The moment that question struck her, she froze completely.

Then—

Her eyes lit up.

It wasn't politeness, it wasn't deliberation; it was an excitement seeping from the very marrow of her bones, impossible to suppress.

Bibi Dong set her teacup back on the armrest and tilted her head toward the spirit masters standing guard in the hall.

"All of you, withdraw."

There was a clatter of armor.

Dozens of elites filed out of the great hall, and the doors were shut from the outside.

Bibi Dong stood up and walked two steps toward the side hall.

"Let us speak in the reception room."

It was not a tone open for negotiation.

The three of them moved to the reception room in the side hall.

It was an elegant little parlor with a pear-wood tea table and four horseshoe-back chairs.

Someone had prepared hot tea early on, and white porcelain cups emitted curling wisps of steam.

Bibi Dong took her seat, and Hu Liena sat down at her left hand. Ye Lingling stood opposite them.

Before Hu Liena could reopen the conversation, Ye Lingling could no longer hold back.

"Celestial Master..."

She clasped her hands together in front of her chest and leaned forward slightly, that sense of adoration overflowing from every pore.

"He is the most handsome person I have ever seen!"

When these words rushed out, Ye Lingling did not even realize she had lost her composure.

Hu Liena's hand, holding the teacup, hung in mid-air, unable to set it down.

Ye Lingling's mind was filled with the scene from the Stone Chamber this morning, frame by frame, so clear that not even a single strand of hair was missed.

"Sword-like brows, star-bright eyes, a face exceptionally refined and handsome. His skin is white—not a sickly white, but clean, so clean that not a single flaw could be picked out."

As she spoke, she gestured along her own face, her fingers tracing a line along her jaw.

"The lines of his features are sharp, yet not aggressive. His jaw is well-defined. He wears white robes, not a speck of dust on them from the collar to the hem. His hair is tied up at the crown, secured by a simple white jade hairpin, with a few stray locks falling at his temples—"

She paused for a beat here.

"He is simply the kind of person who, just by standing there, makes all the light in the world gather upon him."

The room was silent for two breaths.

Hu Liena's fingers rested against the side of the teacup, motionless.

Yet, her fingertips were burning.

Sword-like brows, refined, white robes, jade hairpin.

That blurred figure she had pieced together countless times by the window in the dead of night finally had features, a silhouette, and stray locks falling at his temples.

Her heartbeat accelerated. It rushed from her chest all the way to her earlobes, thumping with a buzzing sound.

Ye Lingling did not stop.

"And the Celestial Master is exceptionally gentle."

When these three words were uttered, her voice softened involuntarily.

"He always speaks in a soft, low voice and never loses his temper with his subordinates."

"Yet, he carries an aura of authority that commands respect without anger. With just one glance from him, even the most arrogant person would not dare to act out of line."

"Miss Hu Liena."

Ye Lingling took a step forward.

"The Celestial Master has been in seclusion for a hundred years, and there has never been another woman by his side."

Hu Liena looked up.

Ye Lingling's throat tightened slightly—that tiny prick of bitterness in her chest surfaced again, and she swallowed it down hard, swallowing it until it was gone completely.

The Celestial Master is a person of the heavens.

It is not for her, Ye Lingling, to covet him.

She had made this clear to herself before she even arrived.

"And he has never looked directly at anyone else."

As these words landed, the water in the white porcelain cup on the tea table rippled slightly.

"Only toward you—he personally wrote the Marriage Contract and personally prepared eighteen layers of heaven-and-earth betrothal gifts. The Primordial Spirit Bead, the Fate-Suppressing Cauldron, the Severing Thought Sword; every single one is a supreme treasure that could make the entire continent tear each other apart to seize."

Ye Lingling enunciated every word with absolute clarity.

"He gifted it all to you. He asked for no return, set no conditions, and even said—even if you do not marry him, he will never take back a single fraction."

"A century of seclusion, and not a single soul caught his eye."

"Eighteen layers of betrothal gifts, meant for you alone."

"This is an honor without precedent."

Hu Liena's entire face turned beet red.

The flush spread from her cheekbones all the way down to her collarbone.

Two fox ears poked out from her hair, glowing a vibrant pink, trembling slightly amidst the steam rising from her teacup.

She lowered her head.

Quickly—

She reached out to grab the teacup and brought it to her lips.

She didn't remove the lid.

Her lips pressed against the rim of the cup, mimicking the motion of drinking. Not a single drop passed her lips.

But it hid her face.

Bibi Dong sat to the side, witnessing the entire scene.

Her fingers tapped lightly against the tabletop twice.

She had watched this girl grow up. Over a decade. Whether being pursued, courted, or threatened, she had always maintained that cold, distant demeanor.

She had never blushed before.

Today, she was flushed through. Red enough to use a teacup to hide her face, even forgetting to take the lid off.

Bibi Dong's fingers tapped once more, then stopped.

That man named Shen Yichen had managed to push her disciple to this point. Not through force, not through power. But by piling gift upon gift, and with the words, "Even if you do not marry, I will not take them back."

The tactic wasn't new.

But taken to this extent—even she couldn't find a single fault in it.

Ye Lingling watched Hu Liena's flustered attempt to hide behind the teacup and smiled.

It wasn't mockery. It was a genuine, unadulterated smile.

The curve of her lips held a hint of relief—that tiny trace of bitterness had completely vanished the moment she saw Hu Liena like this.

The person chosen by Celestial Master was, indeed, a good one.

"Lady Hu Liena—"

Hu Liena didn't look up. The teacup was still held high, the lid still firmly in place.

Ye Lingling's smile widened.

"You may rest easy and wait for Celestial Master to come and marry you."

"Clack."

The teacup struck the tabletop. It wasn't set down—her fingers had slipped, and the base of the cup collided directly with the pear-wood surface.

Hu Liena lowered her head even further. Her two fox ears were so red they looked ready to bleed, twitching incessantly amidst her hair.

Bibi Dong picked up her own tea and took a sip. When she set the cup down, her lips curved—ever so slightly, ever so briefly, invisible even to those across from her.

But they had curved, nonetheless.

Silence reigned for a few moments.

Ye Lingling bowed, formal and precise. As she straightened up, she produced an object from her robes.

A leaf.

A withered, yellowed pine needle, pressed perfectly flat, its veins clearly visible.

"This... Celestial Master did not ask me to bring this."

Ye Lingling's voice dropped to a whisper:

"I plucked it myself from the pine tree behind Taixu Temple. That pine tree grows right at the entrance of Celestial Master's Seclusion Chamber."

She placed the pine needle on the table and pushed it toward Hu Liena.

"This leaf has been imbued with a hundred years of Celestial Master's Dao."

Hu Liena's fingers loosened their grip on her hem.

She reached out.

The moment her fingertips touched the dried pine needle—a faint, cool aura seeped out from the veins of the leaf.

Hu Liena's fingertips lingered on the pine needle, refusing to pull away.

The chill crept up her finger inch by inch, passing her wrist, her forearm, and darting all the way into her chest.

Cold.

It was the exact same temperature as when she first held the Severing Thought Sword.

That chill circled within her chest before slowly dissipating.

Hu Liena did not move her fingers from the pine needle.

Her fingertips pressed against the withered veins, stroking them rhythmically.

The movement was light and slow, identical to how she had previously traced the two characters for "Severing Thought" on the sword's guard.

Bibi Dong took in the scene.

The sound of the teacup returning to the tabletop was exceptionally crisp in the quiet hall.

She did not interrupt Hu Liena.

Only when the girl finally tucked the pine needle into her sleeve—her movements cautious, as if she were stowing away some peerless treasure—did Bibi Dong speak.