Wen Liubing exclaimed in horror, "Master!"
A lock of white hair hanging over Shen Gurong's shoulder was singed by the lightning, and he still had half a lotus seed in his mouth, unsure whether to swallow it or not.
After Mu Zhe's silver lightning struck down on the dueling platform, it directly shattered Shen Gurong's protective spiritual power, nearly causing him to spit out blood. He gritted his teeth and forcibly held back.
In a daze, he heard Wen Liubing's cry of alarm. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw a ring of charred marks left by lightning strikes around Shen Gurong not far away.
Mu Zhe was slightly taken aback.
Wen Liubing seemed to be saying something with a terrified expression, grabbing Shen Gurong's wrist to try and pull away, but Shen Gurong gently shook his head and said something with pale lips. Wen Liubing's face changed.
The second bolt of lightning struck swiftly and rapidly. This time, Mu Zhe watched helplessly as the lightning, which should have struck him, seemed to be split in two by an invisible force, crashing down on Shen Gurong.
Mu Zhe's pupils contracted. In that moment of stunned silence, the protective spiritual artifact in his palm hadn't been activated, and he was immediately struck by the lightning.
The half-bolt of lightning seemed to transform into countless blades, whistling through Mu Zhe's spiritual meridians like a gust of wind. The unbearable pain caused Mu Zhe to vomit blood.
The spiritual medicine that Shen Feng Xue had given him in his childhood to cleanse his marrow and strengthen his bones was not even a fraction as effective as this bolt of lightning.
For a moment, Mu Zhe almost thought he would die from this bolt of lightning.
Mu Zhe braced himself on the ground, struggling to look at Shen Gurong not far away.
Shen Gurong's cultivation was formidable, and with the protective barrier of Nan Yangjun, half a bolt of lightning was nothing to him. The heavenly lightning that could have instantly killed Mu Zhe struck Shen Gurong, only singeing his wildly white hair black; a gust of wind then reduced it to ashes.
The first thought that surfaced in Mu Zhe's muddled mind was: "Thank goodness."
Thankfully, his master wasn't injured.
Mu Zhe no longer had the energy to think about why the heavenly lightning had inexplicably affected Shen Gurong. At this moment, his body was wracked with pain, and he maintained his last shred of consciousness to avoid collapsing to the ground.
In his dazed state, it seemed the third bolt of heavenly lightning was about to strike again. Mu Zhe struggled to activate the spiritual weapon in his hand, but before he could move, he suddenly heard a faint sound of footsteps amidst the earth-shaking thunder.
Mu Zhe was startled.
He blankly looked up and saw Shen Gurong, dressed in white, walking quickly towards him.
Tribulation lightning is a tribulation for every cultivator. If unrelated individuals enter the tribulation, the Heavenly Dao will not care about their innocence; everyone will be struck down equally.
Mu Zhe looked at him and murmured, "Don't..."
Don't come any closer.
Mu Zhe tried to speak, but a mouthful of blood spurted out. By the time he realized what was happening, Shen Gurong had already stepped onto the arena without hesitation.
Wen Liubing, not far away, paled and tried to rush over, but was stopped by Li Suo, who arrived just in time.
Mu Zhe thought in confusion, "Why isn't anyone stopping him?"
Why... is he always in danger because of me?
This thought came inexplicably, and before he could process it, he felt Shen Gurong already standing before him against the heavenly lightning.
Mu Zhe looked up at him blankly.
"Master..."
Shen Gurong lowered his eyes, his gaze calm and serene as he looked at him. He gently reached out his soft hand and bent down to embrace him.
The third bolt of heavenly lightning struck down fiercely, landing directly on Shen Gurong's back, but was blocked by Nan Yangjun's protective barrier.
However, while the barrier could withstand attacks from cultivators, it cracked after only three strikes against the heavenly tribulation.
Mu Zhe's pupils dilated slightly, his nostrils filled with the lotus fragrance emanating from Shen Gurong.
In an instant, countless memories flooded his mind along with the heavenly lightning.
The surrounding thunder had somehow transformed into the crackling sound of exploding flames. Mu Zhe slowly opened his eyes, and what came into view was Shen Feng Xue, dressed in white, stepping onto a wooden frame and rushing into the flames like a moth to a flame, pulling him into his arms.
Mu Zhe was stunned.
That was the first ray of light to shine upon Mu Zhe's bleak life.
That light carried a faint lotus fragrance, making Mu Zhe feel as if he were in a lotus pond on a hot summer day, a gentle breeze causing the lotuses to bloom.
Mu Zhe was held tightly in Shen Feng Xue's arms, the embrace strong and firm, trembling slightly. Mu Zhe instinctively snuggled against him, vaguely noticing a drop of water on his neck.
The immortal's voice seemed choked with emotion, yet it brought Mu Zhe the first sense of peace he had ever known.
"I'm here."
Mu Zhe's mind was hazy, his small hands gripping the immortal's sleeve tightly.
Then, after an unknown amount of time, the scorching heat gradually subsided. He was held in someone's arms, his body feeling weightless for a moment before his consciousness sank into a quagmire.
When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on a soft bed. Mu Zhe struggled to sit up, looking around and realizing he was in a place he had never been before.
He heard the sound of water hitting the floor outside the window. Mu Zhe turned his head blankly.
The immortal who had rescued him from the fire stood amidst a sea of evening-mist flowers, dressed in snow-white robes, his eyes covered by a veil of ice silk. His slender fingers held a bamboo-like handle, sprinkling water into the flowers.
Perhaps sensing Mu Zhe was awake, he turned slightly, meeting Mu Zhe's gaze through the window. His eyes, hidden behind the veil, were filled with a chilling coldness.
Little Mu Zhe was startled.
He hurriedly lowered his head to avoid Shen Feng Xue's gaze, but failed to see the fleeting glint of tears in Shen Feng Xue's eyes.
Soon, footsteps sounded outside the door.
Mu Zhe scrambled off the bed in a panic, kneeling down immediately after Shen Feng Xue entered the room, his forehead pressed to the ground. The footsteps stopped.
Mu Zhe, nearly burned to death in the fire, had a sore throat and couldn't speak, but he still forced himself to speak, his voice hoarse, "Thank you... Immortal, for saving me..."
He only managed a few words before his throat tightened, and he coughed violently.
Tears welled in his eyes, but he felt the unapproachable immortal bend down slightly and gently help him up.
Mu Zhe's eyes were filled with tears as he timidly looked up at him.
Shen Feng Xue wiped away his tears, his voice clear and sharp like pearls.
"Don't be afraid of me."
Mu Zhe was still afraid.
Shen Feng Xue said, "From this day forward, I will be your master, you..."
He paused, then murmured with a hint of sorrow, "Don't be afraid of me."
Mu Zhe wasn't afraid of him; he was only afraid of soiling the immortal's hands.
From birth, he had endured the insults and curses of everyone. It was a miracle he even survived, let alone imagined being treated with special favor by immortals.
But this time, Heaven seemed to feel it had been unfair and finally treated Mu Zhe somewhat better.
A few days later, Mu Zhe learned from others that the place he lived in was called Liren Peak, and his master was the most powerful cultivator on Liren Peak, and indeed in the Three Realms—the Holy Lord Shen Feng Xue.
Everyone said he had incredibly good fortune to be chosen as a disciple by the Holy Lord.
Mu Zhe was a mortal, making it difficult for him to enter the Dao. Shen Feng Xue then sought out countless spiritual objects to nourish his body, but after a year of using these objects, it was like throwing stones into water—utterly fruitless. Meanwhile, his junior disciple Yu Xinghe, who had joined the sect a few days later, experienced a meteoric rise in cultivation.
Despite such a stark contrast, Shen Feng Xue didn't even glance at Yu Xinghe, focusing all his energy on Mu Zhe—even though he was a good-for-nothing.
Once, after returning from a three-day trip, Shen Feng Xue brought back another type of spiritual object for nourishing spiritual veins.
He hurried past Changying Mountain, and before even reaching Fanjiang Residence, he saw Xi Guxing waiting for him by Lotus Lake.
Shen Feng Xue didn't even look at him, continuing on his way.
Xi Guxing frowned deeply and quickly stepped forward to block his way: "Stop!"
Shen Feng Xue stopped, nodded slightly, and said coldly, "Sect Leader."
Xi Guxing was nearly driven mad with anger, shouting, "Where have you been again?! Didn't you say you'd tell me before leaving Liren Peak?"
Shen Fengxue remained unmoved, his pupils vacant. He said expressionlessly, "I was distracted when I left the mountain; there's no need to explain to the Sect Leader."
Xi Guxing: "You…"
Shen Feng Xue seemed oblivious to Xi Guxing's anger, still politely asking, "Can Eleven leave now?"
Xi Guxing suppressed his rage, taking a deep breath, and said coldly, "Are you still searching for spiritual items for your disciple?"
Shen Feng Xue didn't speak, tacitly agreeing.
“If you ask me, instead of nurturing his spiritual meridians, you should force him to enter the Dao with a marrow-cleansing medicine,” Xi Guxing said. “You’re more familiar with this process than I am. Although it’s risky, if successful, he’ll be as you wish.”
Xi Guxing felt this method would save Shen Feng Xue a lot of trouble, and he had originally planned to wait for Shen Feng Xue to thank him. He hadn’t expected that cold-blooded bastard to throw out such a blunt remark.
“No,” Shen Feng Xue said. “It will hurt him.”
Xi Guxing: “…”
Shen Feng Xue lowered his eyes and said softly, “I’m afraid it will hurt him.”
Xi Guxing: “…”
Xi Guxing roared angrily, “Get out of here!”
Shen Feng Xue didn’t bother arguing with him and left.
But Xi Guxing grew increasingly annoyed. Even after Shen Feng Xue had walked quite a distance, he turned back and angrily said, "Don't forget you've taken on two disciples. Even if you're biased, you should at least care about Yu Xinghe!"
Shen Feng Xue didn't turn around, coldly replying, "I don't have the energy."
Xi Guxing: "...You!"
After speaking, Shen Feng Xue directly entered Fanjiang Residence, activating the barrier to isolate Xi Guxing's angry outburst.
On the Bodhi tree, little Yu Xinghe sat on the trunk, his eyes filled with tears as he gazed at Fanjiang Residence not far away. The small hands that had gripped the sword until they bled finally relaxed.
The small wooden sword slowly fell from his hand, landing silently on the grass.
Inside Fanjiang Residence, Mu Zhe looked at the fruit radiating spiritual energy on the table, tilting his head and asking, "Master, what is this?"
Shen Feng Xue, having changed his clothes, said casually, "Just some ordinary stuff from down the mountain. Try it if you like."
Mu Zhe nodded, picked it up, and nibbled on it slowly, even letting out a small burp.
Shen Fengxue sat beside him and asked, "How does it feel?"
Mu Zhe asked blankly, "Huh? What do you mean?"
A mortal's spiritual veins are like a bottomless pit; no matter how many spiritual items are poured in, not even a ripple is seen.
Shen Feng Xue didn't seem to mind. He said, "Nothing much. What did you learn in your morning lessons?"
Upon hearing this, Mu Zhe jumped off his chair like he was showing off a treasure, rummaged through the desk beside him, and pulled out a stack of papers, smiling shyly as he showed them to Shen Feng Xue.
“These are the characters I’ve learned,” Mu Zhe said shyly. “The elder even praised me.”
Shen Feng Xue glanced at them, his pupils slightly contracting.
“These are copies of Master’s calligraphy,” Mu Zhe said cautiously, watching Shen Feng Xue’s expression, his voice soft like a child asking for candy. “What does Master think?”
Shen Feng Xue’s fingers tightened slightly. He said softly, “Very good.”
Mu Zhe’s face lit up with joy, his eyes crinkling.
Shen Feng Xue gently stroked the nascent characters, as if speaking to him or someone else, murmuring, “Very good…”
Mu Zhe was slightly taken aback: “Master?”
“Hmm?”
Mu Zhe whispered, “You… cried?”
Shen Feng Xue raised his head slightly, a single tear slowly rolling down his cheek from beneath his icy gaze.
Like a thunderbolt striking, Mu Zhe, writhing in pain, suddenly grabbed the sleeve of the person beside him.
Shen Gurong looked down in surprise. Mu Zhe's eyes were unfocused, as if he were still in a dream, and he asked in confusion, "Master, why...why are you crying?"
Shen Gurong looked completely bewildered: "What?"
Mu Zhe could no longer distinguish between reality and dream. He pulled Shen Gurong into his arms and said in a hoarse voice, "This disciple will never practice your calligraphy again, please don't..."
Shen Gurong gently shook his chin, frowning, "What? Speak louder?"
Mu Zhe, however, clung tightly to him, refusing to let go.
Seeing the fifth bolt of heavenly lightning about to strike, Shen Gurong coldly pried Mu Zhe's grip open and activated the protective spiritual energy within.
With a whoosh, a semi-circular, eggshell-like energy enveloped him, and simultaneously, the heavenly lightning struck.
A deafening roar echoed throughout the heavens and earth.
Inside the barrier, Shen Gurong was nearly deafened. He tightly covered Mu Zhe's ears, taking advantage of his inability to hear, and angrily cursed, "Bastard! Scoundrel!"
Actually, he most wanted to curse Shen Feng Xue.
Ten years ago, Shen Gurong had suspected that half of Shen Feng Xue's yuandan had been given to Mu Zhe, but lacking evidence, he hadn't speculated further.
Now, the tribulation lightning descended, sparing no one, and even Shen Gurong, who was far away, was struck along with it, revealing a stark truth to him—Shen Feng Xue not only gave his yuandan to Mu Zhe, but Shen Gurong was also forced to endure the lightning strikes during each of his tribulations.
Shen Gurong cried out in injustice, lamenting that if Shen Feng Xue were in front of him, he would have already attacked and bitten him.
This phenomenon was extremely unusual. If Xi Guxing and the others witnessed it, they would quickly uncover the whereabouts of Shen Feng Xue's half of his yuandan. Shen Gurong had no choice but to rush into the tribulation lightning and use his cultivation to shield Mu Zhe from the lightning.
After all, no matter where he was in the Three Realms, half of Mu Zhe's tribulation lightning would definitely follow him.
Shen Gurong gritted his teeth in hatred as he shielded Mu Zhe from the lightning.
Mu Zhe seemed to have lost his mind, staring blankly at him, uttering incomprehensible words.
Shen Gurong cursed, "Once the tribulation is over, you're definitely dead!"
Mu Zhe murmured, "Disciple...didn't kill anyone, Master..."
"A thousand recitations of the Pure Serenity Sutra! Two thousand!"
Amidst the tribulation, the master and disciple showed their filial piety.
Outside the tribulation, the disciples of Liren Peak were moved to tears, their tears falling on Lotus Lake.
"Ah—the Holy Lord is actually shielding his disciple from the tribulation! Waaah!"
"If I were his disciple, after the tribulation, I would repay the Holy Lord with utmost loyalty and devotion!"
"What a moving display of master-disciple affection! I also want a master like the Holy Lord!"
Waaah, waaah, only Xi Guxing stood not far away, his face extremely grim, his whole body radiating murderous intent, his short sword already half an inch unsheathed.
"That half of the yuandan..."
Yep, knew Xi would realize it.
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