The flames inside the cauldron roared softly, steady under Haotian's control. His qi wrapped around the herbs, weaving them together with runes that shimmered faintly in the air. The fragrance of medicine grew thick, filling the pill room.
He did not raise his head when soft footsteps entered. Whoever it was, they stood silently, waiting. Haotian's focus remained entirely on the fire before him.
Moments later, the cauldron trembled. The refining completed with a crisp ding. Pills floated upward in a swirl of steam—smooth, lustrous Triple Recovery Pills, each gleaming with light. With practiced calm, Haotian caught them, sliding each into jade bottles, sealing them tight with a flick of his fingers.
Only then did he turn.
And paused.
Standing just beyond the cauldron was a maiden veiled in white. Even with half her face hidden, her beauty was unmistakable—eyes luminous as starlight, lips softly curved, jawline perfect as though carved from jade. Her figure beneath her robes was balanced and graceful, slender waist flowing into curves that her garment only emphasized.
For the first time since joining the Moon Lotus Sect, Haotian's composure wavered. His gaze lingered a fraction longer than he intended, before he exhaled and steadied himself.
"What can I do for you?" he asked, voice calm once more.
The maiden bowed her head slightly, her voice soft and melodic, like a zither string plucked in stillness. "Senior Haotian, I wish for your guidance. My cultivation method… and two techniques, a sword art and a movement technique, are flawed. Would you correct them?"
Haotian extended a hand. She stepped forward and placed the manuals into his palm. As he flipped open the first, he spoke casually, though his eyes never left the text.
"I have not seen you since I joined the sect. What is your name?"
The maiden lifted her veil just slightly, revealing the curve of her lips. "My name is Lan Yin Shuyue. I was in closed-door cultivation until today. But upon returning, I heard whispers of you—from my juniors. That you refine pills beyond reason, and that with but a glance you can mend flaws others cannot see."
Haotian's lips curved faintly. "I see. Then it is a pleasure meeting you, Shuyue." He lowered his gaze again to the book, expression thoughtful.
Before the silence could linger, a lively disciple skipped into the pill room. She froze at the sight of the veiled woman, then her face lit with joy.
"Ah! Senior Sister Shuyue! You've finally come out of seclusion!"
Shuyue turned gracefully, her voice warm yet measured. "Yes. I have returned."
The two exchanged brief greetings, speaking of mundane sect matters. Haotian, after letting them finish, finally raised his head.
"Excuse me," he said evenly. "I have finished reading. If your conversation is complete, I will begin explaining the flaws."
Both turned to him, giving him their full attention.
Haotian set the first manual aside, but his expression grew troubled.
The cultivation method she had chosen was one he recognized:
The Heart-Sealing Frost Sutra.
A method of incredible yin refinement, designed to purge hesitation and sharpen cultivation speed. But Haotian knew its hidden cost: it froze the heart, sealing it against warmth, against bonds… against love.
His gaze lingered briefly on Shuyue. Her eyes, serene behind her veil, gave no hint of doubt.
So even one such as her has chosen this path… closing her heart forever to men.
Haotian exhaled softly, steadying himself. Very well. I will correct what I can… but this path must be questioned.
Haotian opened the second manual, his eyes scanning the neat ink strokes. "This is the Moon-Sliver Sword Art?" he asked casually.
Shuyue inclined her head, her veil shifting slightly with the motion. "Yes, Senior. I have practiced it since my youth, but its final sequence eludes me."
Haotian's brow barely moved as he set the book down. He stood, taking a step into the open floor of the pill hall. "Show me."
Shuyue drew her blade in one fluid motion, her movements so graceful it seemed as though she were dancing. Frost bloomed in arcs of silver light as her sword cut through the air. The techniques were flawless to a common eye—elegant, sharp, deadly. But to Haotian, the flaws shimmered like cracks in crystal.
He raised a hand, stopping her midway. "Your second form—the transition from Crescent Cut to Falling Petal—your qi fractures there."
Shuyue blinked, lowering her blade slightly. "Fractures?"
Haotian stepped closer, his voice calm but firm. He took her sword lightly, angled it a fraction, and tapped the air. "Your stance is correct, but your breath is misplaced. Inhale here—before the downward arc. That way, the qi coils and releases without scattering."
Shuyue hesitated, then repeated the form exactly as he said. The moment she inhaled in the corrected place, her qi surged. The silver arc of her sword sharpened, frost glittering in the air like falling petals of ice.
She stopped, stunned. "…So simple?"
Haotian gave a faint nod. "Simple, but overlooked. The simplest cracks cause the deepest flaws."
Shuyue lowered her blade, her veil unable to hide the small curve of her lips.
Haotian turned to the third manual. "And this is your movement technique—the Flowing Mist Steps?"
"Yes," Shuyue said softly. "I can never reach the ninth layer. The steps break apart after the seventh."
"Of course they do." Haotian's tone was dry, though not unkind. "The seventh step is written incorrectly. Your right foot should not slide outward—it should press inward. Whoever copied this version made an error."
Her eyes widened. "An error? But this manual has been passed down for generations!"
"Generations of flawed footing," Haotian replied calmly.
At his request, Shuyue demonstrated the steps, her body light as drifting snow, her veil fluttering with each turn. Haotian watched, then called out, "Step inward. Breathe shallowly. Balance your weight here."
She adjusted, repeating the sequence. The moment her foot pressed inward, her qi lightened, her figure blurring like mist in wind. She flickered forward, covering ten paces in the blink of an eye.
Shuyue stopped, eyes widening behind her veil. "The ninth layer… in one attempt?"
Haotian's answer was steady. "The flaw was not yours. It was in the text."
For a long moment, Shuyue stared at him, her chest rising and falling softly beneath her robes. Her gaze was unreadable, but her voice was like a zither string plucked in stillness. "…You see through everything, Senior Haotian."
He waved his hand dismissively, gathering the manuals. "I see what is there. Nothing more."
The junior disciple who had lingered at the side clapped her hands together in excitement.
"Senior Haotian, you're incredible! Senior Sister Shuyue couldn't fix those flaws for years, and you just—just blinked and solved them!"
Haotian shook his head. "Flaws correct themselves when one looks without bias. It is nothing."
But even as he spoke, his gaze drifted back to the first manual—the dangerous sutra. His calm eyes narrowed slightly.
That one… is not so simple.
"Your sword art and steps were hindered only by small errors," Haotian said calmly, returning the manuals to Shuyue. "But your breathing method… that is another matter."
Shuyue tilted her head ever so slightly, veil fluttering with the motion. "My breathing?"
Haotian gave a faint nod. "Yes. Demonstrate."
Obediently, she closed her eyes, steadied herself, and began to circulate her qi. Her chest rose and fell in rhythm, her sleeves trembling faintly as frost gathered around her. The sight was serene, almost ethereal.
But Haotian frowned.
"Stop," he said evenly.
Shuyue opened her eyes, brows arching. "Was it wrong?"
"Yes." He stepped closer, pointing lightly at her chest, though his eyes stayed level, unfazed. "You are inhaling too deeply at the start. That compresses your qi, making it rigid. When you exhale, the flow stagnates."
The junior disciple watching in the corner gasped dramatically. "Stagnated qi? Senior Sister Shuyue?! That's terrible! You could have exploded!"
Shuyue's lips curved faintly beneath her veil. "…I have survived thus far."
"Barely," Haotian murmured, ignoring the dramatic commentary. "Try again. This time, inhale shallowly. Then exhale slowly, as if letting frost melt from glass."
Shuyue obeyed. Her chest rose delicately, the motion softer this time, her breath steady and smooth. Immediately, the frost around her flared brighter, spinning into snow-like motes. Her aura, once uneven, flowed with fluid grace.
Her eyes snapped open in surprise. "It's… so much clearer."
The junior disciple clapped her hands with glee. "Senior Sister! You look like a fairy in the snow!"
Shuyue's gaze flicked to Haotian. "And this clarity… it came from such a small change?"
Haotian gave a faint shrug. "Small changes tilt great rivers."
The junior disciple leaned in, whispering a little too loudly, "Senior Sister, if you stay with Senior Haotian any longer, he'll fix everything! Even your messy handwriting, probably!"
Shuyue's veil twitched as if she were suppressing a laugh. Haotian only gave a flat glance, as though weighing whether to correct the junior disciple's brain next.
The room settled into a light, almost playful air. Shuyue's elegance remained untouchable, her aura shining brighter with every correction, while the junior disciple buzzed like a bee around them both.
But Haotian's gaze returned once more to the first manual—the Heart-Sealing Frost Sutra lying untouched on the table.
Sword, steps, breath—these were harmless. But this… is dangerous.
His expression hardened almost imperceptibly. The levity would soon end.
The pill room was quiet again, save for the soft sound of Shuyue's breathing as she practiced under Haotian's watch. Her veil fluttered faintly with each exhale, qi flowing smoother with every cycle.
"Better," Haotian said evenly. "Keep the exhale steady—yes, like that. Do not tense your shoulders."
Shuyue inclined her head in acknowledgment, her calm eyes on him, following each instruction with poise.
It was at that exact moment that the door slammed open.
A group of outer sect disciples spilled in, their chatter cutting off instantly as their eyes widened.
What they saw was Shuyue standing close to Haotian, veil lowered just enough to reveal her lips, chest rising and falling delicately as she "breathed" under his direction. Haotian stood before her, gaze intent, correcting her posture with all the solemnity of a physician.
To them, however…
"…"
"…"
"IS SENIOR SHUYUE—FLIRTING WITH SENIOR HAOTIAN?!"
The first disciple shrieked, clapping her hands to her mouth. Another leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "No, look at her veil! She lowered it! She never lowers it!"
A third disciple clasped her hands dreamily. "So the rumors are true… the stoic alchemist does have a weakness!"
Shuyue froze mid-breath. Her eyes widened a fraction before lowering, veil hastily tugged back over her lips.
Haotian, on the other hand, didn't so much as twitch. He simply turned his head toward the gaggle of girls, expression flat as a frozen pond. "She is correcting her breathing method. Nothing more."
The disciples gasped even louder.
"Breathing together?! Isn't that basically cultivating as dual partners?!"
"Shuyue-jie, you moved fast!"
"Senior Haotian… you sly spear-master!"
Haotian pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. "No. That is not what I said."
Shuyue's veil trembled—whether from suppressed laughter or embarrassment, none could tell.
The junior disciple who'd been watching earlier threw up her hands. "You idiots, he's literally teaching her how to inhale and exhale properly!"
But the damage was done. By the time the group scampered out to "spread the news," the pill hall was already doomed to become the center of another storm of gossip.
Shuyue glanced at Haotian, her voice soft as snow drifting from a branch. "…They misunderstand."
Haotian gave a faint sigh, setting the last manual on the table. "They always do."
But his hand rested on the Heart-Sealing Frost Sutra, and his eyes darkened slightly.
"This one… is no misunderstanding. It is danger."
The last giggles of the retreating disciples faded into silence, leaving the pill hall still once more.
Haotian remained seated, one hand resting on the final manual. His gaze lingered on the cold, meticulous strokes of its script. Slowly, he slid it toward him, opening to the first page.
"The Heart-Sealing Frost Sutra," he said at last, his voice low but edged.
Shuyue's posture stiffened ever so slightly. Her veil hid her lips, but her eyes gleamed with quiet acknowledgment. "Yes. It has guided my cultivation for years."
Haotian's eyes narrowed. "Do you know what it demands?"
"Its path is clear." Her tone was calm, unshaken. "It purges hesitation, severs worldly bonds, and refines the purest yin qi. With it, my cultivation rises without distraction."
"It severs more than hesitation," Haotian said sharply, sharper than his usual steady tone. He tapped the page, where lines of cold runes formed a twisting pattern. "It seals your heart. To men. To bonds. To warmth itself."
Shuyue was silent.
Haotian's voice steadied, but the weight behind it did not lessen. "Your qi will grow. Your arts will sharpen. But piece by piece, the sutra will carve away your capacity to feel. When it reaches its peak, you will be an empty vessel—powerful, but heartless."
The junior disciple in the corner, usually quick to squeak or giggle, bit her lip nervously. "Senior Sister… is that true?"
Shuyue exhaled softly, a faint sound behind the veil. "I have read the warnings. I chose this path knowing its price." Her eyes lifted, steady on Haotian. "A cultivator cannot cling to both strength and sentiment. One must be sacrificed."
Haotian's gaze did not waver. For the first time, a note of something—frustration, perhaps even anger—touched his voice. "Strength built on cutting away your heart is brittle. A sword that refuses warmth will shatter in the end."
The room fell into silence, frost qi faintly drifting from the opened manual, as though echoing Shuyue's chosen path.
Shuyue lowered her gaze, veil hiding her expression. "Then tell me, Senior Haotian… if not this sutra, what path do you offer instead?"
Haotian closed the manual with a sharp snap. "A path where you cultivate without sacrificing your humanity. If you are willing to listen, I will show you."
Shuyue was silent a long moment. Then, behind her veil, her lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "…Then I shall listen."
The manual lay open between them, its pages glowing faintly with cold qi. The runes of the Heart-Sealing Frost Sutra curled like chains, each character a knot binding heart and spirit.
Haotian traced one line with a fingertip, his expression calm but intent. "The flaw lies here," he said softly. "The sutra channels yin qi directly into the heart meridian. It hardens emotion while stabilizing power. Brutal… and efficient. But unnecessary."
Shuyue leaned closer, her eyes sharp with curiosity. "Unnecessary? This technique has been revered for centuries."
Haotian's lips curved faintly, though his gaze never left the page. "Centuries of reverence does not make perfection. Even pills refined for a thousand years still crumble without balance."
He pressed his qi into the manual. Golden threads of rune-light formed beneath his finger, weaving over the cold script. "See here. If we redirect the qi's cycle from the heart meridian to the lunar channels along the spine, it will purge hesitation without freezing sentiment."
Shuyue's eyes widened. "Redirecting the cycle…?"
"Exactly." With each word, Haotian drew corrections, runes glowing, reshaping the once-harsh lines into elegant flows. "The sutra's purpose is clarity. It need not be cruelty. By stabilizing yin qi with a binding rune of harmony here—" he tapped the side margin "—the practitioner can sharpen will without sealing the heart."
The junior disciple watching gasped, covering her mouth. "He's… rewriting a cultivation method?!"
The manual shone brighter as Haotian's runes sank into it, reweaving its structure. Slowly, the oppressive cold that had seeped from the sutra faded, replaced by a calmer, balanced aura—still icy, but no longer suffocating.
Haotian exhaled, closing the book gently. "There. The Heart-Sealing Frost Sutra is now the Moon-Reflecting Frost Sutra. Its focus remains purity and strength—but it no longer demands the sacrifice of your heart."
Silence fell.
Shuyue stared at him, veil trembling ever so slightly. "…You modified a technique thought untouchable. With runes. As though… you were mending a cauldron crack."
Haotian simply set the manual aside. "A sutra, a pill, a weapon—all follow the same principle. Balance. Remove imbalance, and harmony is restored."
The junior disciple nearly squealed. "Senior Sister! Do you realize what this means? You can cultivate power and still… still fall in love someday!"
Shuyue's eyes flickered behind the veil. Her lips parted faintly—then curved into the smallest, unreadable smile.
"…Perhaps."
But her gaze lingered on Haotian longer than before.
The pill hall pulsed with silence as Shuyue closed her eyes, clutching the rewritten sutra to her chest.
"Circulate it once," Haotian instructed, his tone steady. "Let the qi flow through the spine instead of the heart. Do not resist—just follow its current."
Shuyue inhaled.
Frost qi swirled around her instantly, far denser than before. Her veil fluttered as her aura expanded, layer after layer breaking apart like ice cracking on a river.
BOOM!
A shockwave of cold light surged from her body, rattling the cauldrons, frosting the walls in crystalline sheen. The junior disciple squeaked, diving behind a table.
"Th-that aura—!"
Shuyue's body glowed with moonlight as her cultivation surged, breaking shackles that had bound her for decades. Her qi condensed, refined, and then—
BOOM!
The air rippled as she stepped directly into late-stage Nascent Realm.
She opened her eyes, wide with shock. "I… I broke through?" Her voice trembled with disbelief. "Just like that?"
She staggered forward, joy overwhelming her composure. But in her excitement, her foot caught on the edge of her robe.
"Ah—!"
She pitched forward, veil slipping slightly, arms outstretched—
—and landed against Haotian, who caught her reflexively.
The hall fell utterly silent.
There they stood: Shuyue pressed into his chest, his arm steady around her waist, her veil half-lowered to reveal flushed lips. The frosty aura still radiated from her breakthrough, surrounding them in an almost ethereal glow.
It was at that exact moment the door burst open.
"WHAT WAS THAT SHOCKWA—"
A dozen disciples froze at the entrance, their jaws dropping.
Their eyes darted from the icy glow to Shuyue in Haotian's arms.
"…She's in love.""…They're embracing.""…Senior Haotian has captured Senior Sister Shuyue's heart!"
Chaos erupted.
One disciple shrieked, "I knew she was flirting earlier, and now she's confessed with her body!"Another clutched her chest dramatically. "This is too fast! Too sudden! What about us?!"A third fainted on the spot.
The junior disciple who had been watching since the beginning threw her hands in the air, panicked. "No, wait, that's not—! She just tripped—! He caught her!"
But when she looked at the scene again—the two still frozen in an awkward embrace, Shuyue's veil lowered, Haotian staring calmly at the chaos—her words died in her throat.
"…Okay, fine, this one looks bad."
The crowd outside the hall erupted into frenzied gossip.
"Senior Sister Shuyue, the untouchable ice fairy… melted by Senior Haotian!"
"The alchemist doesn't just fix pills—he fixes hearts!"
"Are we witnessing a new Dao couple being born?!"
Haotian sighed through his nose, releasing her gently. "You tripped."
Shuyue, her face faintly pink behind the veil, straightened her robe. "...Yes."
The junior disciple buried her face in her hands. "No one is going to believe that."