Chapter Twelve: The Purple Veil

Madness is not necessarily a bad thing, or so Han Tanyi felt at that moment. His thoughts grew deeper, as if he could see the person he held dear standing right before him. Perhaps it was this very feeling that jolted him awake—now was not the time for such reveries. Since he had arrived at the Blue Lotus Sect, it was best to first make sense of all that lay before him. Just as he was about to speak and continue his inquiry, a figure swiftly moved from the side of the wall, abruptly interrupting his action. It was another beautiful young woman, about eighteen or nineteen, shrouded in emerald gauze, exuding an air of mystery. Yet her presence carried a hint of agitation; before she even reached the bedside, her voice seeped through the veil, urgent and clear: “Lord Left Envoy, the Sect Leader is searching for you—please hurry!”

“What’s happened to her? Is she all right? I’ll go immediately, just lead the way!” Han Tanyi was thoroughly confused by Old Su’s behavior—two questions in quick succession. He vividly remembered last night’s events; Old Su had been terrified to his bones. Yet after a bout of drunkenness, he seemed utterly changed. Was Water Lotus not the infamous demon lord of legend? How could this be? The thought struck Han Tanyi—was he still dreaming? When he tried to pinch his thigh for confirmation, hesitation overcame him. Pain was no issue, but the lotus mark on his leg was so conspicuous that it left him at a loss.

He could not tell how long he sat there, memories flickering—fragments of the past, the moment the door opened last night, Old Su’s earlier words—all scattered, impossible to piece together. Old Su wasted no time, following the young woman out in a rush, leaving Han Tanyi alone on the bed. Time slipped by, and his mind eventually emptied, not from inability to remember, but from a reluctance to recall.

“Sir Han, may I come in?” A very low, clear voice spoke; it was unmistakably a girl, young and ringing. Though this was the Blue Lotus Sect’s domain, she was exceedingly polite, her caution seeming somewhat unusual. The voice startled Han Tanyi from his drowsiness; his eyes opened wider as he looked toward the door, finally seeing the visitor. She was petite, a typical feminine figure, clad in white, but her veil was longer and purple in color, her hair arranged in a cloud-like bun, radiating youthful freshness.

Han Tanyi did not speak; he felt opening his mouth was difficult, yet he could find no reason to refuse. Whoever came, he would face as needed—after all, there was much he did not understand, and it was a good opportunity to ask. Old Su was the only acquaintance here, yet after his recent behavior, Han Tanyi felt he was unreliable, perhaps less so than these young women, whose minds might be less cunning, making it easier to glean information.

Seeing him nod, the girl did not hesitate further. Her steps were slow and cautious, as if probing for something, which Han Tanyi found puzzling. The distance was short, so it took little time for her to reach the bedside. As she glanced at Han Tanyi’s face, a shy blush suffused her exposed features, and she quickly shifted her gaze to his leg, asking in a softer tone, “Does your leg still hurt?”

Han Tanyi was confused, his intuition telling him this girl was different from the others—perhaps she knew something about his predicament. As she approached, a faint fragrance enveloped him, soothing and pleasant. Though her face was partly hidden, the exposed features and their contours suggested she was exceptionally beautiful. Instinctively, Han Tanyi tried to avert his gaze, but it inadvertently fell on her chest, which gently rose and fell with her breath, leaving him embarrassed and blushing.

The girl seemed unbothered by his reaction, tilting her body to avoid looking directly at him—a scene both awkward and oddly surreal.

“No serious harm; as long as it’s not touched, there’s no pain. Thank you for your concern,” Han Tanyi replied, his martial instincts kicking in as he adjusted his internal energy flow to ease his discomfort, feeling secretly ashamed of his earlier thoughts. He answered promptly and politely, hoping she would not notice. Perhaps his response matched her mood, for a subtle smile appeared on her face, and her voice held a hint of joy: “That’s good to hear. In any case, Sir Han, I owe you an apology.”

Such words left Han Tanyi more bewildered. He wondered, what had this to do with her, and why apologize? Yet he kept these thoughts to himself, not wanting to appear rude. Besides, he knew little of what had happened—perhaps she truly was involved. If someone felt guilty toward him, it would make future inquiries easier. With this thought, Han Tanyi shifted to sit upright on the bed, then asked, “May I know your name, miss? Why do you always wear a veil and not show your true face?”

His question was routine, feigning curiosity while covertly gathering information about the Blue Lotus Sect. The veil was not unique to her; he suspected it was a sect rule. Though he guessed this, he still asked, his aim not fixed on the veil itself. The girl trembled slightly, uncertain how to respond, hesitating for a moment before saying, “I am Shui Linglong. Since you wish to see, I will remove my veil.”

As she spoke, her hand reached for the veil; though still hesitant, she gently took it off. Han Tanyi did nothing to stop her, his curiosity about her appearance surging. He was unprepared for her action, and as the veil slid away, his eyes widened in astonishment.

He found himself at a loss for words to describe her face. Words like beautiful or lovely seemed an insult. Her skin was flawless, like jade; her eyes were clear and bright, with an inexplicable depth when paired with her features. The watery gaze inspired affection; her delicate features attested to nature’s wondrous handiwork. Han Tanyi secretly drew a sharp breath, marveling how such an ethereal, graceful woman could exist. Dressed in white, she seemed like a celestial maiden descended to earth, stunning beyond words, her shy blush only adding to her allure and leaving him momentarily spellbound.

“Sir Han, what’s the matter?” With the veil removed, Shui Linglong was evidently shy, instinctively turning her face away, suffused with youthful innocence and charm. After a moment, she returned her gaze to him, noticing his odd expression—he stared unwaveringly, his cheeks reddened, breath quickened, almost as if ill, prompting her concern.

“N-nothing,” Han Tanyi stammered, startled by her question, quickly averting his gaze and forcing a sheepish smile. Inwardly, he scolded himself: “Han Tanyi, what are you doing? You already have butterflies in your heart—how can you be so easily swayed by a pretty woman? Foolish, foolish!”