After Xi Guxing left, Shen Gurong steadied himself against the only surviving desk to catch his breath, feeling his rapidly beating heart, and let out a long sigh of relief.
Little Mu Zhe lay face down on the ground, his breathing weak.
Shen Gurong helped him up and checked him over, discovering that despite being struck by Xi Guxing, he hadn't sustained a single injury.
Because the plague demon had dissipated, the strange birthmark had reappeared on Mu Zhe's face.
His brows furrowed, he gasped for breath, then suddenly opened his eyes, fully awake.
Seeing his terrified expression, Shen Gurong was about to comfort him, "Don't..."
Before he could finish, Mu Zhe screamed, kicking Shen Gurong in the stomach in terror, staggering to the side, his eyes glazed as he hid under the desk.
Shen Gurong: "..."
You heartless brat, I saved you for nothing!
Shen Gurong nearly coughed up blood from the boy's careless kick, and for the first time, he wondered, "Are all cultivators as useless as Shen Feng Xue?"
This guy is the first person to reach the half-step Sainthood?
Shen Gurong was utterly perplexed.
Just as the useless Shen guy struggled to his feet, a surge of spiritual energy suddenly emanated from under the desk beside him.
Shen Gurong instinctively sensed it, and a thought flashed through his mind.
—Mu Zhe has broken through to the Qi Refining stage.
This was utterly unbelievable. Xi Guxing had once told Shen Gurong that Mu Zhe was merely a mortal, with virtually no spiritual veins. Even with abundant spiritual resources, he would never attain Dao in his lifetime.
But now, having nearly been possessed by a vengeful ghost, and at a time when his vital energy should have been severely depleted, he had broken through without warning.
In the entire Three Realms and Nine Provinces, those who entered the Qi Refining stage at the age of six were as rare as morning stars.
Recalling the plot of the book, Mu Zhe had only awakened his spiritual veins after being struck by Yu Xinghe's spiritual power. Now, by sheer chance, he had been struck by Xi Guxing, which had somehow brought forward the events of many years later.
"Truly worthy of being the chosen one," Shen Gurong could only sigh.
Because of Li Suo's departure, the barrier around Zhibai Hall had dissipated, and the disciples outside rushed in.
Before even entering, they saw Shen Gurong, dressed in a blue robe, slowly carrying Mu Zhe as he walked out. The entire Zhibai Hall was a ruin, with bloodstains on the ground, glaringly obvious.
Yu Xinghe staggered over, his face streaked with tears: "Master! Mu... how is Mu Zhe?"
Shen Gurong glanced down at him: "He's alright, don't worry."
Yu Xinghe instinctively trusted Shen Gurong. Seeing that Mu Zhe in his arms was asleep and seemed unharmed, he finally relaxed and hastily wiped away his tears.
Shen Gurong strode out of Zhibai Hall. The disciples surrounding him, not daring to block his path, quickly dispersed to watch him leave.
After Shen Gurong left, a disciple whispered, "Holy Lord... was there a footprint on him?"
A sharp-eyed disciple also noticed and nodded timidly.
The crowd exchanged bewildered glances, taking a long time to process the fact that their junior brother, Mu Zhe, had dared to kick Holy Lord Fengxue.
"Holy Lord... doesn't seem as bad as the rumors say..."
"He was so offended, yet he still carried his junior brother back."
"But the Holy Lord's expression seemed very unpleasant. Will he... do something to Junior Brother Mu Zhe...? Should we go check on him?"
"Who... who dares to go?"
The crowd exchanged bewildered glances, their faces clearly showing their reluctance.
Yu Xinghe cried so hard snot bubbles were coming out of his nose, and he blankly uttered, "Huh? What are you talking about... hiccup?"
His senior brothers sighed, looking at him with fatherly affection, and patted the boy's head.
Being silly has its advantages.
Liren Peak isn't a single mountain, but rather three gates and four peaks.
Although each peak is close together, they stand apart like people separated by distance, hence the name Liren for the mountain range.
The four peaks of the mountain range border the northern ice plains, experiencing distinct seasons from north to south.
The closest to the mountain range town is Shen Feng Xue's residence, Fan Jiang, named Jiuchun Mountain because of its year-round spring-like climate.
Further on are the scorching Changying Mountain, the Baishang Mountain where one leaf heralds autumn, and the Yuxu Mountain in the depths of winter.
Thinking about it, the person who named it certainly had an easy job.
Zhibai Hall on Changying Mountain and Fanjiang Residence on Jiuchun Mountain were not far from the suspension bridge. After crossing the bridge, Shen Gurong spotted Fanjiang Residence in the distance and hurried over.
Shen Gurong was kicked twice by the dazed Mu Zhe, but still dutifully carried him back to the side courtyard.
After placing the little protagonist on the couch, Shen Gurong felt truly grateful to be a great master.
That plague demon was like a centipede; even after capturing its true form, it could still turn around and launch a counterattack, catching everyone completely off guard.
Fearing further complications, Shen Gurong decided to stay in the side courtyard for the night, just in case something else happened to Mu Zhe.
Mu Zhe was probably frequently summoned to stay in the side courtyard by Shen Feng Xue; the small side room had a bed, a desk, a table, chairs, and wooden stools.
Shen Gurong walked slowly to the small desk, casually sat on the cushion, and flipped through the papers on it.
The desk was covered with calligraphy practice sheets that Mu Zhe used to practice. Shen Gurong glanced at them, clicked his tongue twice, and muttered, "Much better than what I wrote when I was a kid."
His handwriting as a child was like a dog's scrawle. His parents couldn't bring themselves to force him, so they sent him to the private school next door to be taught by a tutor.
The tutor at the private school looked gentle and refined, but he was ruthless when it came to teaching. Little Shen Gurong had small sandbags tied to his wrists every day, forced to straighten his back, and practiced for two or three years before his handwriting was barely presentable.
Shen Gurong admired the little protagonist's handwriting enviously for a while, then, perhaps feeling bored, picked up a pen and slowly wrote a few words on a piece of white paper.
Mu Zhe.
Yu Xinghe. Shen Feng Xue.
He compared his calligraphy with Mu Zhe's and felt his was superior.
"Iron strokes and silver hooks, truly worthy of me."
—He doesn't know where he gets the nerve to be so proud, having surpassed a six-year-old in calligraphy.
Shen Gurong had read many bizarre novels and had even wondered if he might be Shen Feng Xue, given their striking resemblance, but he quickly dismissed the idea.
Shen Feng Xue's memories were fragmented, as if shattered. He could only glean from the words of others in the memories: Shen Feng Xue was orphaned at a young age and raised by the sect leader of Liren Peak, a figure that didn't match his age at all.
Moreover, he searched through all of Shen Feng Xue's fragmented memories, and there was no mention of returning to Tang City.
Shen Gurong felt somewhat relieved, but just in case, he would still find time to check the map in the book to see if Tang City actually existed.
He lightly drew a line on the three characters "Shen Feng Xue" with a touch of cinnabar, and then tried adding a small red dot next to Mu Zhe, signifying that his master was paying attention to him.
As for Yu Xinghe, as long as the two of them didn't come into contact with the demonic cultivators at the Burial Mound, there shouldn't be any major trouble in the future.
With this thought in mind, Shen Gurong felt that returning home was just around the corner.
In an extremely pleasant mood, Shen Gurong lazily picked up his pen and began to devise a plausible story for Xi Guxing.
What Xi Guxing had always been puzzled about was Mu Zhe's identity and Shen Feng Xue's special treatment of him.
Shen Gurong read storybooks and also wrote them. Sometimes, when his parents weren't home, he would diligently write in his study. He had written all sorts of stories, from supernatural tales and historical narratives to erotic dramas. Half of the stories told under the overpass in Tangcheng were based on Shen Gurong's stories, and they were widely circulated.
The renowned storyteller Shen Gurong bit his pen, attempting to outline the possible developments of this plot within a storybook.
I. A Friend Entrusts His Child
II. An Illegitimate Child
After some thought, to reach the required number, he hastily added another one.
III. Lovers from a Past Life, Rekindling Their Fate
Shen Gurong rested his chin on his hand, staring at points one, two, and three for a while before crossing out the first.
Shen Feng Xue was aloof and his only pleasure was fighting. Xi Guxing, being so familiar with him, must know he couldn't possibly have other friends.
Furthermore, Mu Zhe's unusual behavior couldn't be explained.
Shen Gurong thought for a moment and crossed out the second one, which followed the same logic.
As for the third, it was even more outrageous.
If Shen Feng Xue were still alive, he would definitely jump out and chop this scoundrel who ruined his reputation to pieces.
Shen Gurong, having indulged his passion for writing a storybook, crumpled the paper into a ball and began to seriously weave a tale for Xi Guxing when Mu Zhe, lying on the bed, suddenly murmured something and woke up.
Shen Gurong, like a thief, secretly burned the paper under the candlelight, letting out a silent sigh of relief.
Mu Zhe's gaze was unfocused, staring blankly at the bamboo window above him.
Shen Gurong put down his pen and casually asked, "Awake?"
Mu Zhe was startled, turning his head to look at him blankly.
Perhaps it was Shen Gurong's face that triggered him, but Mu Zhe's pupils contracted, and his actions before losing consciousness suddenly flooded his mind.
He…he seemed to have suddenly gone mad, and even hurt someone.
Senior Brother Li Suo.
Mu Zhe gasped, slumping onto the bed in a daze, his face blank, his whole body trembling as if he had lost his soul. Seeing Mu Zhe so frightened, Shen Gurong sighed inwardly and said, "Don't be afraid. That ghost cultivator has already been killed by the sect leader and won't come back."
Mu Zhe looked at him blankly, two streams of tears falling down his face.
Shen Gurong: "..."
Because Shen Gurong had a younger sister eight years his junior, he had always had an extremely strong protective instinct towards soft-spoken children. Seeing little Mu Zhe cry almost made him lose his composure.
He didn't even mind that the child had kicked him earlier.
Shen Gurong stood up and walked to Mu Zhe's side, softening his voice: "Don't cry. Li Suo is a cultivator, after all. His life won't be in danger. This isn't your fault."
Mu Zhe looked at him with tears in his eyes.
Shen Gurong raised his hand and removed a red bead from his wrist, placing it in his palm as he usually did when comforting his sister.
"Take it and play with it."
Mu Zhe sobbed, staring blankly at the bead in his pale palm, not understanding its meaning.
Shen Gurong glanced at him. Mu Zhe's hand trembled as he held the bead between two fingers, his gaze still unfocused.
Even after enduring so much torment at Shen Feng Xue's hands, Mu Zhe was still just a six-year-old child. He was stunned by this turn of events; his usually feigned indifference was now filled with panic and fear.
Shen Gurong's younger sister liked round little toys, so he assumed other children would too. Seeing that Mu Zhe seemed calmer after taking the bead, he silently breathed a sigh of relief.
Mu Zhe stared blankly at the bead for a long time, then looked blankly at Shen Gurong.
The fact that he had hurt his senior brother, who had always been so caring towards him, left Mu Zhe utterly terrified and helpless. Even though the person before him was his seemingly righteous master, he instinctively clung to him like a lifeline.
He asked almost pleadingly, "Senior Brother Li Suo... is he really alright?"
Shen Gu Rong nodded, "Yes, he'll be fine. You can go see him tomorrow."
Mu Zhe seemed relieved, and tears welled up again.
His blurry vision stared at the man standing before him, belatedly recalling the scene when Xi Guxing tried to kill him. That tall figure had selflessly shielded him from the fatal attack.
Now the two were very close, and Mu Zhe vaguely smelled a faint medicinal fragrance on Shen Gurong.
When he first separated himself from the possessing ghost cultivator, his face was already pale; he must have been injured then.
Since he was injured, why did he risk his life to save him?
Shen Feng Xue's feelings for him...
Was it affection or resentment?
Since becoming Shen Feng Xue's disciple, everything Mu Zhe heard from others was something he couldn't understand.
"Your master treats you this way because he has high hopes for you."
"The Holy Lord is doing it for your own good."
"Those spiritual treasures you've obtained are things most people couldn't even dream of."
"You... what more could you want?"
Mu Zhe was always perplexed by these words. Unsatisfied?
He thought, if their "for your own good" meant enduring endless torment without harboring resentment, then why had no one ever asked him if he wanted to accept such kindness?
In the past year at Liren Peak, Mu Zhe had always felt overwhelming disgust for Shen Gurong, with fear being secondary. But now, all that resentment slowly dissipated into a faint, ethereal mist as Shen Gurong stood before him.
He was lost in confusion.
Mu Zhe was momentarily at a loss for how to face Shen Gurong, who had so cruelly tormented him yet saved him at the crucial moment.
A taut string seemed to be pulling at his mind, leaving Mu Zhe in a dilemma.
Shen Gurong, oblivious to his complex thoughts, sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Now that you've entered the Dao, you should be able to condense spiritual power during the Qi Refining stage. Why don't you give it a try?"
Mu Zhe stared at Shen Gurong for a long time before belatedly realizing that he had just embarrassingly cried.
His cheeks flushed, and he hastily wiped away his tears with his sleeve, muttering, "Yes."
Mu Zhe's emotions were too complicated to manage in a short time. He didn't dare look up at Shen Gurong, feeling both afraid and inexplicably ashamed.
Shen Gurong instinctively wanted to say something to tease the blushing little dumpling, but the words caught in his throat.
He was still afraid of being discovered possessing someone and being burned alive.
Mu Zhe closed his eyes, trying to mobilize the spiritual energy in his meridians, but after trying for a long time, his face turning red, he still couldn't sense a trace of spiritual energy.
He opened his eyes and instinctively looked at Shen Gurong.
Shen Gurong was taken aback by his pleading gaze.
"Huh? Why are you looking at me? I don't know anything either."
The master and disciple exchanged bewildered glances.
Shen Gurong coughed dryly, then reluctantly raised his hand and grasped Mu Zhe's small hand.
Mu Zhe stiffened, instinctively wanting to pull away.
For a year since Mu Zhe entered Shen Feng Xue's tutelage, he had spent almost every day and night under Shen Feng Xue's torment. Those hands had once gripped his chin, forcing him to drink excruciating pills, and had also used hand seals to imprison him, forcing him to meditate in the wind and snow.
Whatever it did, it brought Mu Zhe only endless pain.
This was the first time Mu Zhe had held this hand so intimately, and he was surprised to find that this ruthless man's palm was actually warm.
Perhaps sensing his unease, Shen Gurong gently squeezed Mu Zhe's warm palm and said, "Close your eyes."
Mu Zhe, though afraid of him, forced himself to close his eyes.
Xi Guxing had repeatedly warned Shen Gurong not to recklessly use his spiritual power, but drawing out a wisp to probe Mu Zhe's spiritual meridians shouldn't be a problem.
He tried to condense a wisp of spiritual power between his fingers and slowly probed it into Mu Zhe's vital point on his wrist.
This time it went extremely smoothly; Shen Gurong didn't vomit blood.
Shen Feng Xue was very skilled at manipulating spiritual power. Shen Gurong, following his body's instincts, closed his eyes and guided his spiritual power through Mu Zhe's spiritual meridians. Finally, when he probed into the dantian, he was suddenly drawn in by a powerful force.
Shen Gurong: "..."
Shen Gurong was stunned, staring wide-eyed at his empty fingertips.
That spiritual energy seemed to have entered Mu Zhe's body?
Wouldn't something go wrong?
Shen Gurong felt inexplicably guilty and quickly withdrew her fingers: "How do you feel?"
Mu Zhe opened his eyes: "I don't feel anything."
Shen Gurong coughed lightly: "Then try circulating your spiritual energy again?"
Mu Zhe pursed his lips and nodded.
This time, for some reason, his previously parched spiritual veins seemed to be nourished by spring rain, effortlessly gathering a stream of spiritual energy.
Mu Zhe opened his eyes.
Shen Gurong lowered his gaze, his eyes gentle and serene, and asked him softly: "How is it?"
Mu Zhe said: "It's already..."
Before he could finish, he suddenly heard a rustling sound like a mouse stealing food. Listening closely, he realized someone was whispering.
A whisper.
Mu Zhe was startled.
Only he and Shen Gurong were in the side room. Shen Gurong sat there serenely, like a beautiful painting, his expression pure and serene.
Where did that voice come from?
When he froze, his spiritual energy stopped, and the voice disappeared.
Seeing his expression change, Shen Gurong asked, "What?"
Mu Zhe pursed his lips and shook his head, then tried circulating his spiritual energy again. This time, he finally heard the voice clearly.
That scared me to death.
Mu Zhe: "???"
He stared blankly at Shen Gurong.
Although Shen Gurong was taciturn, his voice was clear and melodious, almost a seductive whisper, very distinctive.
Shen Gurong's long eyelashes drooped, and under the lamplight, the beauty seemed to be bathed in a warm glow, appearing serene and otherworldly.
He maintained this composed demeanor, thinking, 'I'm going to die of fright here one day. Why are there always so many unexpected events?'
Mu Zhe heard the continuous whispers in the void again.
Why should a scholar like me be in such a state?
Will that spiritual energy reaching Mu Zhe's dantian cause any serious problems?
Oh right, I still need to continue making up stories for Xi Guxing. Can I find some stories on Liren Peak for reference?
So annoying.
Mu Zhe: "…………"
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