Li Minghan's mind was filled—completely and unbearably—with the face he had just seen.
He didn't even know how he'd ended up inside Yingde Gengchen's sleeping quarters. He only remembered walking in like a man in a dream, drifting to the center of the hall, and dropping to his knees.
"So you saw it?" Yingde Gengchen asked from the bed, his voice unnervingly calm.
Li Minghan nodded, still wearing an expression of disbelief. Then something seemed to strike him, and he looked up in a rush.
"So… you took me in back then because of him?" His voice trembled despite his efforts to steady it. "Who is he? What is he to me?"
Yingde Gengchen said nothing. He only closed his eyes.
"So all these years—making me wear the veil every moment—was because of this?" Li Minghan's voice shook harder, the words scraping his throat.
Was that it? Had he been kept at Yingde's side all this time… as a substitute? A shadow?
Yingde Gengchen's face remained unreadable, as if he'd always known this day would come. His gaze lowered—calculating, weighing.
The longer Yingde Gengchen stayed silent, the wilder Li Minghan's thoughts became.
"So you adopted me, forbade me from showing my face, made me live hidden for years… all because of that man?" His eyes burned as tears slipped down. "Who is he? Why does he look so much like me?"
So many years of confusion and hurt—everything seemed to snap into focus the moment he saw Li Luoning… and yet nothing made sense at all.
He didn't understand why that man moved through the world so freely, calm and untethered, while he himself was condemned to this lightless sea-floor prison.
He didn't understand why Godfather could smile—rare, genuine—when speaking to someone else, but reserved for him only worry and severity.
He didn't understand why merely sharing a face meant he had to live behind a mask like some ghost.
"Godfather—what is all of this?" His grief surged into rage, raw and hoarse. "Say it! Answer me!"
His shout echoed through the chamber as he knelt there, crying like a child and demanding an explanation.
Only then did Yingde Gengchen open his eyes. He sighed, and spoke in the same even tone as before:
"His name is Li Luoning. He is your twin brother."
Li Minghan went rigid, as if the words had struck him physically.
"Twin… brother?"
Yingde Gengchen exhaled again, slow and heavy, and began to explain—piece by piece.
"Your birth father was named Li Shen. He was once a close friend of mine. Your Li family was destroyed in a great fire. When I was sorting through Li Shen's belongings, I found a letter hidden in a secret compartment. That is how I learned your mother bore twins."
His voice did not waver.
"But the Moonshadow Pellet in your body conflicts with the Crimson-Xi Pellet in Luoning's. The spiritual forces within you two are mutually destructive—fire and water that cannot coexist. Li Shen had no choice. He left you in an old mountain estate under the care of a steward, hoping you would be raised there in secret."
A pause.
"But the steward took the money and abandoned you in the wilderness. After that… you vanished without a trace. Until that day, when someone brought you to the Dragon Palace—then I knew you were the missing child of the Li family."
When he finished, Yingde Gengchen closed his eyes again, as if the matter had been properly sealed.
Li Minghan knelt on the floor, unable to move. Memories crashed through him at full speed—so sharp they made him dizzy.
The years of wandering. Fighting stray dogs for scraps. Freezing in a ruined temple. Hiding from wolves in a tree for three days and nights, thirsty and starving, too afraid to climb down.
He had believed his life was like that because he was an orphan, because he had no one. He had believed Yingde's kindness was salvation. So even when Yingde demanded he hide his face, he obeyed—grateful, loyal, desperate not to lose the one place that had taken him in.
But now—
Now he understood.
Everything he had suffered wasn't an accident of fate. It was a decision.
He was abandoned because he was "incompatible." Sacrificed to protect the other twin.
Adopted because he looked like the other twin.
Hidden for years to protect the other twin.
From the moment he was born, he had been nothing but a stand-in—an echo.
Li Minghan's fists clenched so tightly his joints cracked. His entire body trembled, whether from rage or grief he didn't know.
"So that's it," he said, voice suddenly cold, eyes lowered so his expression couldn't be seen—only the two clear tracks of tears down his cheeks. "Everything. Being thrown away, being 'taken in,' living behind a veil, trapped in this sunless sea… all because of the man called Li Luoning."
His breath came thin.
"From beginning to end, I was never myself. I was only his shadow."
"Han…" Yingde Gengchen began, hearing the misunderstanding—trying to reach for him.
Li Minghan cut him off, his words shaking despite their chill.
"Since you already have Li Luoning at your bedside to serve you, why would you still need me to pretend at filial duty?"
"Han'er, it isn't what you think—"
"It's exactly what it is." Li Minghan's eyes were wet and furious. His chest rose and fell in shuddering bursts. "Everything I endured was because he exists. I was abandoned for him. I was adopted for him. I was hidden for him. Even your distance—your 'care'—was for him."
He stared at Yingde Gengchen, voice cracking as he tried to keep it together.
"He's the one you all care about. He's the one allowed to stand in the light. And me? What am I?"
Yingde Gengchen moved as if to speak again, but Li Minghan lifted a hand, stopping him.
He steadied his breathing—barely.
"I have only one question," he said, each syllable forced into place. "When you took me as your adopted son… was it because I looked like him?"
Yingde Gengchen went still.
He didn't answer.
Not for a long time.
Li Minghan let out a low, broken laugh.
"So that's how it is." His smile was thin and bitter. "I used to think your strictness meant you cared. Now I see—you were only afraid the secret would be discovered."
His gaze sharpened, ruthless with pain.
"Who I am never mattered. All that mattered was him. He is the 'real' one. He gets to live openly under the sun—while I exist as decoration in the dark."
For a moment, Li Minghan felt like his entire life was a joke.
He had once thought the heavens had finally taken pity on him, finally granted him somewhere to belong. But even that "mercy" had only been borrowed—an afterimage of someone else.
"Since you already have him," Li Minghan said quietly, voice turning glacial, "why keep me at your side at all?"
He inhaled—shallow, trembling.
"Li Minghan thanks the Dragon King for years of upbringing."
As he spoke, he extended his right hand.
A blue gleam flashed across his palm.
A curved blade appeared—solid, cold, unmistakable.
It was the gift Yingde Gengchen had given him on their first hunt.
"Han—what are you doing?" Yingde Gengchen's voice finally broke, alarm seeping through.
Li Minghan raised the blade high.
Then, without hesitation, he drove it into his own body.
"This bone returns to my father," he said through clenched teeth. "And I repay the debt of raising me. From this day on, Li Minghan and the Dragon King owe each other nothing."
The room filled instantly with the thick stench of blood.
"Han—stop!"
Yingde Gengchen tried to rise, but the medicine he'd taken left him weak. He stumbled off the bed and crashed to the floor.
Li Minghan swept his hand.
A barrier flared up between them—cold, absolute.
He shut his eyes as tears streamed, unstoppable.
The pain was beyond anything he'd ever known. He gasped, gulping air like a drowning man.
But pain had a cruel gift: it made him lucid.
With his free hand, he found the place beneath his ribs. He twisted the blade—once, twice—forcing the cut wider.
And then, with brutal resolve, he tore a rib from his own body.
"With this rib, I repay a father's grace," he said, voice hoarse. "And sever kinship."
He threw the bone—still warm—down onto the floor.
It clattered like a verdict.
Li Minghan braced himself on one hand, shaking, breath ragged, blood and tears mixing on his face. Then he staggered to his feet.
He bowed—deeply, formally—toward Yingde Gengchen.
And with the last thread of consciousness he could hold, he turned and left the Dragon Palace.
Liao Yin Immortal Realm — outside the Lianzhan Pavilion
Yue Ruling stood at the doors of Qingyuan War God's residence, frowning.
"Master has been… strange lately. Is something weighing on him?"
She couldn't understand it. Ever since they returned from their mortal tribulation, Qingyuan War God seemed like a different person—avoiding her, refusing to see her.
Inside the pavilion, Qingyuan's lips were pale, as though he'd only just recovered from serious illness. He suppressed a cough, keeping it low, and watched Yue Ruling through the narrow crack of a half-open window.
Something was clenched in his hand.
Dozens of days earlier…
"Qingyuan War God," SiTu Fanzhi said coldly, "you knew Yue Ruling's mortal tribulation was fixed by Heaven. Why did you still intervene—knowingly violating what was ordained?"
"Qingyuan is willing to accept punishment."
"Qingyuan War God—dereliction of duty, disruption of fate. Punishment: five hundred lashes of the Discipline Whip, and three bolts of Heavenly Thunder, as warning to all."
The memory was still sharp when Yue Ruling knocked again.
"Master—may I come in?" she asked through the door.
"W-wait." Qingyuan's voice came strained from inside.
He hurriedly pulled on his outer robes. Once he'd composed himself, he opened the door and stepped out.
"Master," Yue Ruling said, trying to sound light, "why don't we go for a walk? A lot has happened while you were in seclusion. Want me to tell you?"
She hoped that getting him outside, talking, might loosen whatever knot had formed between them—might finally give her a chance to ask what was wrong.
"Oh?" Qingyuan's tone softened. A faint smile lifted his lips, his eyes full of tenderness as he indulged her. "All right. Tell me."
"The Medicine King botched another refinement recently," Yue Ruling said brightly, gesturing animatedly. "He smoked up the whole hall until it was black as soot. This time he even singed the roof—turned it dark!"
"What did he try to refine this time?" Qingyuan asked, walking down the steps beside her.
"Who knows?" Yue Ruling laughed. "I had to hold in my laughter while ordering people to clean the palace. I nearly suffocated!"
Then she continued, voice quick with gossip:
"Oh—and I heard Yun Wan Nian slipped off to the Flatland on the Celestial Master's birthday. He almost got detained at Wuming Demon Mountain and couldn't come back. Luckily it ended safely. Brother Qingyi is already on the road to bring him and Immortal Master Xiao Yi home."
"Xiao Yi went too?" Qingyuan asked, pace steady as he walked with her.
"Of course. If not for his master, that kid would still be stuck there." Yue Ruling huffed. "Mi Xingzhe has way too much courage—he even dared go somewhere like the Flatland. When he gets back, he's definitely going to suffer for it. And—and I also heard Xuanming Lord…"
Their voices faded as they walked further away.
The moment they left, a black-rimmed toad hopped out from the grass.
A flash of light snapped it into a golden cauldron.
O Shinan's voice was faintly amused. "You little thing—running everywhere. Getting bolder by the day."
Mirror Cloud Residence
After settling Hua Ruoying and Qingping, the master and disciples finally returned to Mirror Cloud Residence.
Mi Xingzhe took one deep breath and felt his whole body lighten.
Compared to Wuming Demon Mountain's perpetual gloom—its heavy skies and endless damp—he much preferred Liao Yin's birdsong, clear streams, lofty peaks, and pure air that seemed to wash the lungs clean.
"Ah… home is the best." He stretched, rolling his shoulders to loosen the fatigue.
The moment he lowered his arms, he met Yun Qingyi's gaze.
Only then did it hit him again: he hadn't "returned." He had been caught.
His excitement deflated immediately. He hovered at the threshold, suddenly unsure whether he should step inside.
"What are you standing there for?" Yun Qingyi called from within. "Waiting for me to invite you?"
Mi Xingzhe muttered under his breath, "Since when did Senior Brother get fiercer than Master…"
Still, he shuffled in, reluctant as a dragged cat, and—wisely—dropped to his knees.
Li Luoning sat by the desk without lifting his eyes. Yun Qingyi poured him tea, lit an incense burner, then stood to the side in silence.
Master and disciple did not speak.
And with flawless coordination, they left Mi Xingzhe kneeling there like forgotten furniture.
Hours passed.
Night deepened.
Mi Xingzhe secretly thumped his legs—long since numb—then peered up with a pout: Li Luoning was still reading; Yun Qingyi still stood like a cold statue.
"Grrrrrr…"
His stomach chose that moment to betray him—loudly.
In the quiet study, the sound was painfully clear.
Without looking up from his book, Li Luoning said, "Qingyi. Prepare the evening meal."
"Yes, Master." Yun Qingyi answered and walked toward the door.
As he passed Mi Xingzhe, he deliberately paused and made a small, threatening motion with his hand—pure intimidation.
Mi Xingzhe immediately flashed an ingratiating smile and tugged lightly at Yun Qingyi's sleeve.
"Senior Brother… I want meat," he whispered.
Li Luoning finally set down the book. Unhurriedly, he began grinding ink.
Then he asked, calm and sharp as a blade edge:
"When did you meet Miss Ruoying?"