[To Become a River of Stars] Dong Xiange - Chapter 12

The carriage continued on its way. Li Xuanci lounged loosely against the silk pillow, eyes closed, completely ignoring the other person in the carriage.

Shiliu was still tied up, not making a sound, curled up in the corner of the carriage with her head buried in her knees, her whole body shrunk into a small ball.

She wasn’t crying, nor was she trying to escape. She just quietly bumped her head against her knees in small motions, her mind a tangled mess.

Master, what’s wrong with her? How could she have such a dream? What was she doing in that dream? This is a carriage, not a bath—why take off clothes? And why was it that king of hell undressing her?

Shiliu had lived on the mountain since she was a child. Though she often went down the mountain to hunt or catch demons, she was always with her master or senior brothers. This was her first real journey far from home, and she wasn’t very clear about matters between men and women.

Of course, the books taught about dual cultivation and energy absorption. Shiliu was familiar with them, but her master had never explained how dual cultivation worked or how energy absorption was done.

Still, she knew enough to understand that she must never undress in front of outsiders, nor bathe or sleep together like her senior brothers. She was a girl, different from all the other disciples.

So, instinctively, Shiliu knew that the dream she had just had was ambiguous and shameful—probably what the books called a spring dream. But she didn’t understand the specifics and could only torment herself uselessly.

Shiliu pondered bitterly. For sixteen years on the mountain, her heart had been as still as water. Now, she was being so wanton and lovesick. There seemed to be only one explanation for all this.

Could it be… could it be that she had feelings for Li Xuanci?

Curled into a ball, Shiliu secretly lifted her head and glanced at Li Xuanci sitting above. His expression was cold, his eyebrows swept sharply toward his temples, and even with his eyes tightly closed, his long, thick lashes softened the slightly upturned corners of his eyes with a hint of tenderness.

He truly had the face of a calamity.

But Shiliu also knew how cold and cruel those eyes could be once opened. Everything passed before them, yet nothing entered his heart.

She shuddered unconsciously, her hairs standing on end. What kind of taste was this? If she wasn’t longing for the mortal world, fine—but once she did, she had to develop feelings for such a terrifying troublemaker?

And besides, was this what liking someone felt like? Half fear, half nervousness, just wanting to hide at the ends of the earth? Those young ladies in the storybooks who eloped… well, it was really… hard to describe.

In the end, Shiliu decided to convince herself that it was probably the influence of the Fate-Link Curse.

She had only read about this thing in books; even her master had never seen a living example. So, perhaps it wasn’t impossible for symptoms not recorded in the books to appear.

Shiliu struggled endlessly with her complicated thoughts, burying her head in her knees one moment and looking up at the feigning Li Xuanci with a troubled expression the next, cycling back and forth. Her expressions were so lively that if her fellow disciples, who usually saw her as possessing an immortal elegance, were to see her now, they’d probably be shocked enough to stuff eggs in their mouths.

She was so absorbed in her own thoughts that it took her a long time to notice the growing noise outside the carriage.

The calls of vendors carrying shoulder poles selling steamed buns, the arguments between roadside stalls and aunties over how much green onion a single copper coin could buy, the sound of early-rising women from houses along the street tossing out wash water—a third of all this filtered through the swaying carriage window curtains.

She secretly squinted one eye, pressed against the carriage window where the wind lifted a corner of the curtain, peeking at the lively street scene outside. Suddenly, Jin Zhan’s voice came from outside the carriage.

“Your Highness, we will soon arrive at the manor.”

She shrank back like lightning, unaware that her antics had still been caught by Li Xuanci’s peripheral vision. His eyebrow twitched, and a hint of amusement flickered in his eyes.

So, he wasn’t completely clueless—just better at hiding it.

Li Xuanci glanced at Shiliu curled up in the corner and straightened up, suddenly closing in on her.

The carriage was clearly spacious, yet Shiliu felt the space shrink significantly in an instant. His presence was so oppressive, like damp storm clouds gathering together. Though the thunder hadn’t yet fallen, the heavy moisture was unbearably uncomfortable.

His profile was outlined by a sliver of light streaming through the carriage window, the bridge of his nose high and straight, catching a gleam. Just as Shiliu looked up, his gaze suddenly swept over and collided with hers.

Shiliu froze as if under a paralysis spell, her expression stiffening further, only her body’s instincts reacting.

Her lower abdomen grew damp with a final trickle of moisture, silent and ambiguous.

Only she knew of her own arousal.

He reached out a hand. Shiliu watched as that hand, which had repeatedly teased and tormented her in her dreams, drew near. The fingertips hidden beneath her wide Taoist robes trembled uncontrollably.

Her vision darkened, then light spilled in. Li Xuanci lifted the curtain and stepped out of the carriage directly, leaving Shiliu behind.

She stared blankly for a moment before clumsily following him out.

They had arrived at the prince’s manor. The steward led the servants waiting at the entrance, the main gates swung open to welcome the master of this great estate.

But Li Xuanci didn’t even glance their way, striding straight inside. Jin Zhan, however, subtly waited for Shiliu, who had fallen behind.

Shiliu’s expression remained neutral as she quietly followed inside, but inwardly she thought, The prince’s household is indeed well-trained. Seeing such an unfamiliar Taoist appear out of nowhere, yet not a single one of them gave me a second glance.

The further they went, the more astonished Shiliu became. The extravagance was overwhelming—carved beams and painted rafters like a dream of opulence, wine pools and meat forests catering to sensual indulgence.

The key point was that Li Xuanci was merely a feudal prince. Yet with a casual glance, she spotted numerous items that violated sumptuary laws.

Smooth, polished pebbles paved a secluded path. At a turn, a blue-feathered peacock stood perched. Hearing the noise, it even fanned its tail feathers, the blue-iridescent plumes reflecting the light. And she could faintly hear the roar of a tiger in the distance.

Not only did he keep rare birds and exotic beasts within his residence, but when Shiliu glimpsed a shimmering expanse of water deep along the path, even her well-practiced composure nearly faltered, her eyebrows almost rising.

He had dug an entire lake within his own home.

Silently digesting her shallow understanding of how the powerful amassed wealth from the people, Shiliu trailed at the end of the group as they followed Li Xuanci into the main hall.

The steward who had accompanied them all the way approached and softly reported something, but Li Xuanci seemed indifferent.

“Handle it as it should be handled. Why bother me with such trivialities?” He spoke lightly, too lazy to even lift a finger.

“But she’s with child…” the steward began, only to stop when Li Xuanci lowered his gaze to glance at him.

There was no emotion in those eyes, not even much displeasure.

Just indifference—complete unconcern for whether the person the steward spoke of lived or died.

Shiliu’s hairs stood on end secretly. The Zhenyi Sect specialized in vanquishing demons and monsters. She had naturally beheaded spirits herself—she was no stranger to bloodshed—but she still felt a chill.

If she were to die suddenly before him, Li Xuanci would only complain that her blood dirtied his boots.

As the atmosphere grew tense, someone pushed the door open and entered. Dressed in dark green robes, his jet-black hair was entirely tied up with a smooth jade hairpin, his posture relaxed and his spine straight. Before Shiliu could clearly see his face, she first noticed the smile on his lips—the whole man seemed warm and approachable.

In a word, he was the opposite of Li Xuanci.

Entering without announcement, Shiliu initially worried for this person, but upon seeing his face clearly, she silently chided herself for being a fool.

This was probably Wang Qiao, the rumoured “male favorite” of Prince Ding.