Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Gentle Brush Behind Her Neck

The name "Demon Moon" was conceived in Nanluo’s heart while he was teaching the Green Snake the Yellow Court Scripture atop Mount Kunlun. At that time, the Demon Moon Mirror revealed the cultivators dwelling in all the mountain caves with uncanny clarity—a phenomenon Nanluo found profoundly strange, which settled the word “Demon” in his mind. Soon after, the moon itself appeared distinctly within the mirror, and at that moment, the name “Demon Moon” was firmly established.

He was unaware that, when he once rode the Golden-Winged Roc toward the Dragon Palace, every bird illuminated by the Demon Moon Mirror along the way lost its soul and plummeted to the earth. Yet, such occurrences never happened again thereafter, a fact Nanluo knew nothing about... So, when he saw countless black mosquitoes swarming toward the Demon Moon Mirror, startled and alarmed, he intended to reclaim the mirror.

Suddenly, someone silently tapped the back of his neck. Nanluo’s heart trembled; to be invaded from behind without a sound was truly terrifying. He spun around abruptly and saw a face bearing three parts coyness and seven parts cunning—eyes clear and bright, curved into crescent moons from laughter. It was the purple-robed woman he had carried along the road.

"How did you get here?" Nanluo asked happily, but before she could answer, he darted quickly around her, the Azure Blade in his hand slashing like a storm.

The purple-robed woman’s eyes widened in surprise as she tracked Nanluo’s movements, evidently astonished by his sudden action. After circling her once, Nanluo halted, offering no explanation for his behavior, but smiled and said, "Weren't you going to hide? What are you doing here?"

She laughed, "I never said I was going to hide. Even if I don’t, no one can find me, and if someone could, hiding would be pointless. By the way, what was that just now?" Her clear eyes stared unblinking at Nanluo, a subtle and elusive smile lingering in her gaze.

Nanluo, hearing her words, looked around quickly. The swarm of black mosquitoes had vanished without a trace. With a gesture, the Demon Moon Mirror returned to his hand; he scanned the surroundings with it once more, then sighed in relief and said, "I was fighting someone just now. His concealment technique is formidable—I feared he might be lurking nearby."

"Hehe... Was it a mosquito?" the purple-robed woman said with a laugh.

Nanluo nodded eagerly. "His true form is indeed a mosquito. He can burrow into people’s bellies and loves to suck the blood from their hearts. He’s wicked and dangerous—if you ever encounter him, be very careful!"

Though Nanluo was not one for many words—often stopping short even when he wished to speak—he found himself unable to resist conversing at length with her.

"I'm not afraid of him. If he hadn’t flown so quickly, I’d have slapped him dead just now. Not like you, with two innate treasures and still unable to defeat others," she said, wrinkling her delicate nose in triumph.

Nanluo felt a bit embarrassed and was puzzled by her remark about "slapping him dead." He wanted to ask, but she continued, "What are you doing here anyway? Why are you fighting that wretched mosquito again?"

Nanluo then recounted all that had happened since their parting. After listening, the purple-robed woman furrowed her brow and asked, "The man playing the zither—was he dressed in coarse linen, hair unbound, tall and striking in appearance?"

Nanluo pondered for a moment, then replied, "Yes—tall, with thick brows and large eyes, quite heroic. Have you seen him? Why?"

Seeing her deep in thought, he couldn’t help but ask.

"It's nothing, just feels odd. I glimpsed him from afar when I arrived and sensed that he might somehow affect me... Do you know who he is?" she asked.

"Affect you? That’s unlikely—you don’t even know him. I don’t either, but judging from his jade zither and linen robes worn only by human nobles, he must be the acknowledged leader of the human tribe beneath Mount Buzhou." Nanluo had met many people along his journey, often seeking information about the events he’d witnessed, and inevitably the name ‘Fuxi,’ the leader of the human race, would come up. Thus, he had a general understanding of Fuxi’s situation.

"So he’s a human. Do you know what powers he possesses?" the purple-robed girl pressed, as if unusually concerned.

Nanluo squinted, pondering before replying, "I don’t know him well. All I know is that his zither’s music is extraordinary... Perhaps his arts of divination are impressive." He considered how Fuxi had managed to orchestrate the migration of the human tribe a year earlier, but was uncertain, so his voice was hesitant.

Suddenly enlightened, the purple-robed woman said, "I see! I’ll just keep away from him then. Hehe, he saved you—shouldn’t you go thank him?" As if understanding, she brightened, carefree as though nothing ever troubled her.

Nanluo asked, confused, "Why avoid him?"

"Isn’t he skilled in divination? My origins must remain hidden—if he sees me and hears my true name, he’ll divine my background. So, I need to steer clear of him!"

"Can’t he divine your whereabouts without seeing you or knowing your name?"

"Of course not! Whether he can divine others, I don’t know, but he definitely can’t determine where I am." She said this with a hint of pride.

Nanluo, watching her, felt inexplicably cheerful himself. After chatting for a while, he suddenly looked around and asked, "Where’s your big stone?"

She giggled, waved her hand in the air, and a snowy white rock appeared at her side. She leaped lightly onto it, sitting with her eyes curved in a crescent, smiling at Nanluo’s surprise.

"You know the art of Universe-in-the-Sleeve?" Nanluo exclaimed.

"No, this isn’t Universe-in-the-Sleeve," she replied with a laugh.

Nanluo’s heart burned with envy for that technique, though his question had only been a fleeting thought.

Suddenly, he noticed behind the purple-robed woman’s dangling feet three blood-red, mysterious characters inscribed on the stone—none of which he recognized.

"What are those words?" he asked.

She glanced down and laughed, "That’s the stone’s name, but I can’t tell you."

Nanluo smiled and did not press further. With thoughts of returning to the valley—perhaps Fuxi would still be there, and he owed him gratitude for saving his life—he said he must be off.

Sitting atop the stone, her golden-trimmed shoes tapped playfully against the snowy rock as she answered, "Alright, go ahead! When I’m bored, I’ll come find you to play!"

Nanluo nodded hurriedly. As he turned to leave, she added, "Don’t tell anyone about me, and don’t describe my appearance. Otherwise, I won’t come to find you."

Nanluo promised again, assuring her he would not. Though he found her mysterious, he felt no wariness—after all, wasn’t everyone in this world mysterious in their own way? As he walked far into the distance, he couldn’t help but look back. Amid the distant embrace of green hills, the snowy rock stood out, and upon it, the purple-robed woman leaned back, supporting herself with one hand, a playful, cunning smile on her lips.

Her golden-trimmed shoes danced mischievously before the three blood-red characters inscribed upon the snowy stone.

Nanluo did not know his life had been saved by her gentle touch upon the nape of his neck, nor did she mention it.

Clouds gathered thickly on the horizon, as though a great storm were brewing—echoing the tides of fate upon heaven and earth. Nanluo sensed it dimly, but could not grasp it. All he wanted was to see Feng Kongxuan, to know he was well, and to return to the Yangping clan, indifferent to the chaos and wars that raged around him.