Lin Shuhe remained silent for a long, long time before looking at the panicked Mu Zhe with disbelief: "You're not joking, are you?"
Mu Zhe stared at him blankly, his eyes filled with undisguised panic.
Lin Shuhe: "..."
Lin Shuhe almost blurted out "You brat," but thankfully he held back, not wanting to ruin his image as an unfathomable and aloof immortal healer.
He said coldly, "He is your master. How dare you harbor such rebellious thoughts? Aren't you afraid of being punished by lightning?!"
Mu Zhe was completely stunned. He murmured, "I...I don't know."
Lin Shuhe: "..."
Lin Shuhe was utterly impatient: "Whether you know it now or not, from this day forward, this thought cannot be allowed to arise again, understand?"
Mu Zhe couldn't hear a word Lin Shuhe said at this moment. He hadn't felt this agitated even when he suffered the Nascent Soul tribulation.
"Do I... truly harbor romantic feelings for my master?"
He mumbled incoherently, "I remember."
He said he remembered, but his entire demeanor conveyed, "What are you talking about? I don't understand at all."
Lin Shuhe was nearly driven mad with anger. Enraged, he suddenly raised his hand, unleashing a torrent of spiritual energy that crashed down on Mu Zhe, forcing him to stumble and nearly kneel.
Mu Zhe froze, then snapped out of his daze, staring at Lin Shuhe in astonishment.
This seemingly frail senior uncle actually possessed the cultivation of the Nascent Soul Realm?!
But then again, it made sense. Among the disciples taken in by Nan Yangjun of Liren Peak, although their personalities differed greatly, each possessed extraordinary cultivation.
Su Xiyan was skilled in the arts of fortune telling, the sect leader Xi Guxing cultivated the sword path, Chao Jiuxiao was a demon cultivator with exceptionally high cultivation from birth, even the seemingly useless Lou Bugui was a true Nascent Soul cultivator, let alone Lin Shuhe, who had been in the sect for even longer.
Mu Zhe gritted his teeth, refusing to kneel under Lin Shuhe's oppressive aura. He knew his thoughts were treasonous and disloyal to his master, and said with difficulty, "Yes, I remember."
Lin Shuhe then withdrew his oppressive aura. He glanced coldly at Mu Zhe, then at Shen Gurong, who was seemingly busy in the room, and secretly breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a sense of pride that he had nipped the danger in the bud for his foolish junior brother.
Just then, Shen Gurong suddenly called out from inside the room, "Mu Zhe!"
Mu Zhe, who had just said "I remember," immediately turned and ran over, "Master, I'm here."
Before Lin Shuhe could react, Mu Zhe had already pushed open the door and entered Shen Gurong's room, his movements incredibly practiced, clearly someone who frequently trespassed into his master's room.
Lin Shuhe: "..."
You brat! I'll kill you!!
The brat surnamed Mu had completely forgotten what he had said, habitually entering his master's room, only belatedly realizing what he had just said to Lin Shuhe.
Mu Zhe: "..."
Mu Zhe's steps faltered, a sudden urge to retreat washed over him.
His toes had barely moved, before he hadn't even managed to retreat, when he heard Shen Gurong's soft voice call from inside, "Mu Zhe!"
Mu Zhe immediately forgot how to write the word "retreat," quickly taking a few steps, lifting the bamboo curtain, and rushing inside.
In the inner room, on the bed, Shen Gurong sat adjusting the silk quilt. He had probably been crying; a trace of red remained at the corners of his narrow eyes. When he saw Mu Zhe enter, his fox ears perked up. He raised an eyebrow slightly, his expression haughty and aloof.
"Why are you so slow?" he said coldly.
Mu Zhe, unsure if his master was under the influence of the drug, cautiously approached and said, "Master, please allow me to speak with you for a few words."
Shen Gurong glared at him: "What is there to say? Does Master care what you say?"
Mu Zhe: "..."
That's it, his master is definitely under the influence of the drug.
Mu Zhe had no choice but to go along with him: "No, nothing is more important to Master."
Upon hearing this, Shen Gurong's lips curled slightly, his fox ears twitching; it was clear he was happy.
Shen Gurong asked again, "What did you say to Sixth Senior Brother?"
Mu Zhe looked at Shen Gurong blankly, his face turning red again.
Mu Zhe was precocious from a young age. The first ray of light in his life came from Shen Feng Xue, and later, because of the half yuandan, he could hear Shen Gurong's thoughts. Although he didn't show it on his face, he was overjoyed inside.
His master, revered by thousands, seemed like an immortal descended to earth. Everyone said he was aloof and cold, untouched by worldly affairs. But only he knew that the seemingly cold and aloof Holy Lord Shen was actually like a spirited young man inside, capable of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness. He felt fear, jealousy, and, like an ordinary person, loved to join in the fun—a vibrant and alive individual.
The Shen Gurong in Mu Zhe's eyes was completely different from the Holy Lord Shen everyone else knew.
This contrast, known only to him, inexplicably excited Mu Zhe, something he didn't want to share with anyone, wanting to possess exclusively.
This emotion gradually twisted into a possessive desire for Shen Gurong. As a child, he didn't understand, and could only use childish tactics to gain Shen Gurong's attention; even a glance from him brought him immense satisfaction.
Until the ten years he didn't see Shen Gurong, that familiar face, far from fading, had become even more vivid.
Like a crane returning to its perch, my heart remains unchanged.
And even more so.
These past few days, Mu Zhe had been pondering the true nature of his emotions whenever he saw Shen Gurong, what was it that haunted his dreams and made him unable to forget? He could remember even the smallest, most subtle gesture from Shen Gurong for a long time, as if his eyes and heart belonged only to his master.
Upon seeing Qingyu's storybook, Mu Zhe felt only confusion, unsure of what to expect. But Lin Shuhe's sudden words enlightened Mu Zhe, who had been lost in thought for days, and brought him sudden clarity.
It turned out that his possessiveness towards Shen Gurong didn't stem from his disciple vying for favor, but from a deeper...
Infatuation and longing.
Before Mu Zhe could compose his chaotic emotions, Shen Gurong dragged him in. He was at a loss, completely unsure how to face Shen Gurong.
He simultaneously condemned himself for daring to covet his master, yet harbored a secret expectation.
If only he could truly possess Shen Gurong...
As he was lost in thought, Shen Gurong grew impatient. He stepped forward, cupped Mu Zhe's face, and forced him to look up at him.
Shen Gurong pouted unhappily, his fox ears drooping, and asked discontentedly, "I asked you a question, why won't you answer me? You can talk to Sixth Senior Brother, but you can't talk to me?"
Mu Zhe: "..."
Mu Zhe suddenly realized what was happening and hurriedly said, "I just said some...useless things."
He didn't dare to look directly at Shen Gurong, his heart pounding wildly for fear that Shen Gurong would hear him, and could only awkwardly turn his head to the side.
Shen Gurong persisted: "Why won't you look at me? Were you this impolite when you were talking to Sixth Senior Brother?"
Mu Zhe: "..."
Mu Zhe slowly realized what was wrong with his master.
He was indeed more lively, but why did he always compare himself to others in every sentence?
Mu Zhe could only try saying, "Master is the best, Mu Zhe respects him the most."
This sentence was completely irrelevant to Shen Gurong's question, but Shen Gurong unexpectedly became happy, and the hand that had been forcefully cupping Mu Zhe's face loosened.
Mu Zhe breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that, as he had expected, the medicine had probably amplified Shen Gurong's competitive spirit.
Shen Gurong wanted to compare everything he saw with himself. He asked, "Who's prettier, me or Sang Luofu?"
Mu Zhe: "Master is the prettiest."
"Who has a higher cultivation level, me or Lin Shu?"
"Master has the highest cultivation level."
Shen Gurong beamed, especially fond of Mu Zhe's way of saying he was 'the most' in every sentence. He lazily squinted his eyes and hugged Mu Zhe's neck, laughing.
Mu Zhe was stiff, afraid to move, letting Shen Gurong move around on him while silently reciting the Meditation Sutra.
Shen Gurong rubbed against him, unintentionally tugging at the fox ears, and asked again, "Then, between my fox ears and Qingyu's, whose are prettier?"
Mu Zhe almost recited the Meditation Sutra as the Hehuan Dao cultivation method. He opened his eyes awkwardly, pursed his lips, and whispered, "Master's... are the prettiest."
Shen Gurong seemed to be intrigued, asking question after question, each one more peculiar than the last.
"Is my disciple better or Xi Guxing's disciple?"
Mu Zhe blushed, saying shyly, "Master's disciple... is the best."
Shen Gurong laughed heartily, "Aren't you just praising yourself?"
Mu Zhe: "..."
Shen Gurong kept asking questions incessantly, and Mu Zhe answered him very cooperatively. Finally, Shen Gurong exhausted himself and fell into a drowsy sleep, leaning on Mu Zhe's shoulder.
Mu Zhe held him reservedly for a while before gently placing Shen Gurong back on the couch.
As soon as Shen Gurong's back touched the soft couch, he murmured in his sleep, "Mu Zhe, is my... waist softer or the blanket softer?"
Mu Zhe: "..."
Mu Zhe was both amused and exasperated, gently coaxing, "Master's waist is the most flexible."
After saying that, Mu Zhe belatedly realized what he had said and immediately shut his mouth.
Fortunately, Shen Gurong was already asleep and hadn't heard him, so Mu Zhe breathed a sigh of relief.
He stood there for a while, gazing almost greedily at Shen Gurong's sleeping face, before forcing himself to look away and turning to leave.
However, just as Mu Zhe reached the door, Lin Shuhe's voice, tinged with suppressed anger, suddenly came from outside.
"Mu Zhe, come out."
Mu Zhe was startled, roughly knowing that his sixth senior uncle was going to settle scores with him. He took a deep breath and was about to push open the door when he suddenly heard footsteps behind him.
He turned around and saw Shen Gurong walking towards him barefoot and disheveled.
Mu Zhe was slightly taken aback.
Shen Gurong's face was expressionless, his eyes gleaming slightly as he looked at Mu Zhe, his lips barely moving.
Mu Zhe was all too familiar with this expression. Today, when Shen Gurong saw his face and mistook him for the so-called "Master," he wore this very rare expression.
That expression held a mixture of sadness and the joy of reunion after separation.
Mu Zhe froze instantly. He stared blankly at Shen Gurong's lips, almost desperately thinking, "Don't look at me anymore, call someone else's name."
Shen Gurong had already walked up to him, his eyes vacant as he looked at him.
Mu Zhe felt as if a knife had been plunged into his heart, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.
Just as he was in despair, Shen Gurong suddenly lunged forward, grabbing his collar and whispering unhappily in his ear, "Don't go."
Mu Zhe was stunned, wondering if he had heard "Master" as "Don't go."
Seeing that he didn't respond, Shen Gurong raised his voice again, saying, "You're not allowed to go."
Mu Zhe finally reacted, stammering, "But my Martial Uncle called me."
Shen Gurong said disapprovingly, "I called you twice before you came, and he's only called once. Wait a little longer, wait until he calls three times before you answer."
Mu Zhe: "..."
Is this even comparable?
Mu Zhe's tightly clenched heart finally settled, a slight ache in his chest. He suppressed the inexplicable joy, seeing Shen Gurong's aggrieved look that seemed to say, "If you go out now, don't come back," and could only remain silent, ignoring Lin Shuhe's words.
Lin Shuhe's anger surged again. He roared, "Mu Zhe, if you don't come out now, the consequences will be unbearable!"
Mu Zhe: "..."
Shen Gurong glared at him and said, "Even if you go out, you won't be able to bear the consequences."
Mu Zhe: "..."
Mu Zhe was caught in a dilemma.
Lin Shuhe called twice but couldn't get the junior to come out. He took this silence as a provocation from Mu Zhe, and immediately stepped forward with a cold face, kicking open Shen Gurong's door, intending to show him why he opened his clinic on Coffin Street.
Unfortunately, Mu Zhe was facing away from the door, with Shen Gurong clinging to him, preventing him from leaving. The moment the door was kicked open, it slammed into his back, causing him to stumble forward instinctively.
And in front of him stood Shen Gurong, head slightly tilted back.
Lin Shuhe, delicate and pampered, kicked the door, only to find his toes throbbing with pain. He closed his eyes, enduring the agony, maintaining his ethereal, otherworldly physician image, and stepped into the room.
He said coldly, "Why didn't you answer me when I was right at the door? Did you intend to…"
Lin Shuhe's words were cut short by the scene before him.
His voice trailed off.
Inside the room, Mu Zhe tightly embraced Shen Gurong's slender waist. Perhaps fearing Shen Gurong would fall, Mu Zhe raised his hand and created a transparent barrier just before they tumbled, barely managing to stop Shen Gurong from falling.
At this moment, Shen Gurong leaned against the illusory barrier, his hand instinctively gripping Mu Zhe's clothes. His eyes widened slightly, his fox ears perked up, staring in astonishment at Mu Zhe, who was so close, their lips almost touching.
Mu Zhe: "..."
Lin Shuhe: "..."
You little brat! I'll kill you!!!
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