After Faking My Death, the Imperial Preceptor Became His White Moonlight

[First published on Jinjiang. All other sites are pirated. Contains pregnancy and childbirth elements! OvO]

[Coming soon: The Years I Loved and Fought with My Sword Spirit, blurb at the end *]

While crossing the tribulation to ascend, Luo Zewei received an edict from the Heavenly Dao: in ten years, the heavens would collapse and leave a gaping hole. Only by helping the true dragon ascend the throne and completing the plan to mend the heavens could he become an immortal.

From then on, as the Grand Preceptor of the Great Yong Kingdom, he devoted himself to teaching Xie Jing, the crown prince and reincarnation of the true dragon, pouring his heart and soul into the plan to mend the heavens.

As a renowned Immortal Venerable of the Three Realms, Luo Zewei was always surrounded by admirers wherever he went. But this time, he ran into obstacle after obstacle.

To say nothing of how thin the spiritual energy was in the mortal realm, even with cultivation at its peak, he was just an ordinary mortal here.

And the young crown prince he was supposed to help, Xie Jing, was nothing like a dragon at all. He was more like a vicious dog.

Xie Jing's daily routine consisted of studying and cultivating, along with thinking up ways to tear his Imperial Tutor to shreds.

After the Emperor of Great Yong died and Xie Jing took the throne, the Grand Preceptor who had once been The Outcast became a treacherous minister scorned by all.

People said that Luo Zewei was a fox demon reborn, a temptress who bewitched the late emperor and urged him to undertake extravagant construction projects, a beauty who brought ruin to the country.

It was then that Luo Zewei had a prophetic dream.

At the new emperor's Heaven-Worshipping Ceremony, the emperor he had raised with his own hands stabbed him to death with a sword.

Blood soaked the Heavenly Altar, and the dream jolted Luo Zewei awake.

On the day of the ceremony, Grand Preceptor Luo Zewei leapt from the towering altar.

He was done being the Grand Preceptor.

He faked his death to flee the capital and continue the final work of mending the heavens, while the new emperor searched for him like a madman.

He scoured countless mountains and rivers and seized everyone who looked like him, all so he could drag the Grand Preceptor back and execute him on the spot with his own hands.

The new emperor even went undercover to search for him personally.

Watching the moody young emperor appear before him, Luo Zewei quietly tightened his grip over the disguise on his face.

But just as the work of mending the heavens was about to be completed, he lost all his cultivation, and his disguise came off.

Xie Jing, who should have hated him to the core, suddenly flushed red around the eyes and pulled him into his arms.

Luo Zewei: ?

Wasn't he supposed to execute me on the spot?

Xie Jing's voice was hoarse, still shaken by the fear of having lost him: "Grand Preceptor, you can mend the breach in the heavens. Could you also mend this crack in my heart?"

After you died, even our worst moments together became knives smeared with sweet wine, each little detail carving into my heart.

I was drunk on it, and it is etched into my bones.

*

Xie Jing would never forget that day.

On the altar, beneath the gaze of all the people, the Grand Preceptor's pure, sacred face was stained with blood. His slender fingers clutched the edge of the sword as he gave Xie Jing a fleeting smile, like a night-blooming cereus, yet so heart-stopping it shook him to the core.

He dropped his sword and rushed toward that wavering figure.

But his fingertips only brushed the soft, cloudlike hem of his robes. All he could do was watch as Luo Zewei drifted down like a feather on the wind.

In early spring, after the bitter winter had passed, the new emperor held the Grand Preceptor's cold remains in his arms amid the warm breeze.

All around him, trees and plants flourished, but the frozen eyes in his arms had lost every trace of life.

From then on, in the lightless depths of the palace, beyond its four walls, there was no longer that bright, frost-white moon in the sky.

Xie Jing gained the throne and ruled over a vast kingdom, but lost that pure, snow-white figure.

He had lost his Grand Preceptor.

[Important] Pregnancy and childbirth warning!!

1. A cool, frail but formidable beauty of a Grand Preceptor as the recipient x a younger, obsessive puppy-like emperor as the pursuer.

2. This is not a conventional court-politics novel. The story contains lots of xianxia elements. Please don't take the kindergarten-level palace intrigue seriously.

3. If you can't accept pregnancy and childbirth, you can move on to the next book. There's no need to tell me you don't like it. I can't hear you, I can't hear you, the turtle chants on and on o.O

Cover authorized by: [Three-Leaf Clover] Duoduo

******* Coming Soon *******

Reading Guide:

A cool, sickly beauty of an Immortal Venerable, shameless without realizing it, vs. a black-hearted demon king sword spirit

Feng Qingyun, the greatest sword cultivator in the Three Realms, was just like his name: elegant and refined, untouched by the dust of the world. If he weren't so famously flirtatious, his line of marriage proposals could probably circle the entire mortal realm.

Female cultivators: "I hear Immortal Venerable Feng spends every night singing and feasting, surrounded by beauties, flirting with them but never marrying. A scumbag like that is sure to die alone!"

When he heard the rumor, Feng Qingyun gave a dismissive laugh and went back to tending Xuanwu, an ancient ferocious sword he had found in a rift in the sky.

Once he had finished polishing it, the ferocious sword Xuanwu transformed into a handsome young man. He leaned tenderly against Feng Qingyun and said, "Am I the only sword lucky enough to receive the Immortal Venerable's affection, or do all your brothers and sisters get it too?"

Feng Qingyun pushed Xuanwu away without changing expression. "Stop batting those eyes at me. I have ten thousand spirit swords just like you."

As soon as he finished speaking, colorful spiritual light filled the entire palace. Suddenly, beauties of every shape and size, along with handsome men and women of all kinds, filled the vast hall until there was nowhere left to stand.

He had far too many swords. So what if Xuanwu was an ancient ferocious sword? Once Feng Qingyun grew tired of it, he could toss it aside to gather dust.

Until the stars shifted and the Ghost Realm invaded.

Wielding Xuanwu, Feng Qingyun destroyed the Ghost King of Fengdu, but the dying Ghost King managed to seal Xuanwu inside Feng Qingyun's spiritual meridians.

From then on, the Immortal Venerable's grave injuries never healed, leaving him crippled, while the ferocious sword Xuanwu could only devour Feng Qingyun's spiritual power to maintain its consciousness.

*

In the dead of night, the sickly Immortal Venerable, his face flushed, was bound by the ferocious sword and pinned before an antique display shelf.

With ten thousand spirit swords watching, Xuanwu lifted his chin and toyed recklessly with his bloodstained, delicate lips.

"Immortal Venerable, from now on, I am the only sword you may wield."

He would crush Feng Qingyun's pride, making sure that his body and heart could hold only one sword: him.

Then, once he broke through the seal, he would ruthlessly abandon this wanton Immortal Venerable, tormenting him until he begged for death and found no escape from suffering!

*

Years later, the long-silent Immortal Venerable Feng finally recovered and emerged from seclusion. People waited for him to start making scandalous romantic headlines again.

Feng Qingyun did not disappoint. He caused a sensation with an astonishing piece of gossip:

The Ghost King, supreme ruler of the Ghost Realm and once the sworn enemy of Immortal Venerable Feng, had knelt at the gates of Feng Qingyun's sect and wept for three days and three nights, begging the Immortal Venerable to marry him!

Everyone in the cultivation world: ?!? This is the most shocking thing I've heard in ten thousand years!

Theme: Practice is the sole criterion for testing truth.