Xi Guxing brought his terrified disciple back to Changying Mountain.
Mu Zhe brought his master, even more terrified than Li Suo, back to Fanjiang Residence.
Shen Gurong wrapped his crane cloak tighter around himself, sitting at the table, frowning as he brewed tea.
Mu Zhe brewed water for him with fire spirit stones while speaking to Jiu Xi in his sea of consciousness.
"Really, no, I mean it." Jiu Xi was practically swearing an oath. "The Holy Lord came over, cut off that demonic cultivator's arm with one sword, then chatted casually for a bit, and then he chopped the demonic cultivator down! It's true, really! That demonic cultivator really didn't do anything to your master!"
Mu Zhe was still worried: "Then repeat what they said to me."
Jiu Xi: "..."
"You're so annoying." Jiu Xi scratched his head, but still reluctantly told him everything Shen Gurong and Li Genglan had said.
Mu Zhe seemed lost in thought.
Jiu Xi: "Your master is incredibly fierce when he kills. He doesn't even blink. Cold-blooded, ruthless, and merciless—that's the epitome of your master. He has the highest cultivation level in the Three Realms; who can bully him? Don't worry about it."
Mu Zhe frowned.
Although his master didn't show any emotion on his face, the shock he felt from killing was undeniable.
He racked his brains but couldn't figure it out, so he gave up.
After brewing the tea, Shen Gurong held the teacup and sighed silently.
Mu Zhe asked softly, "Why did you sigh, Master?"
The demonic cultivator's forty years of accumulated spiritual energy had been shattered by Shen Gurong's sword. If nothing unexpected happened, Li Genglan would be unable to cause trouble for another ten years.
This should be a good thing.
Shen Gurong lowered his gaze to the tea leaves in his cup, then suddenly asked, "Do you know who the demonic cultivator imprisoned in the Burial Mound is?"
Mu Zhe, thinking he was still heartbroken over his killing, tentatively reached out and touched the back of Shen Gurong's hand. Sensing his master's lack of resistance, he placed his entire palm against Shen's.
"He was a wicked demonic cultivator," Mu Zhe said softly. "Master killed him to rid the people of a scourge."
Shen Gurong's hands were always icy cold. Suddenly enveloped by Mu Zhe's warm palm, his fingertips trembled slightly, and he instantly forgot what he wanted to say.
He stood there for a while, then awkwardly withdrew his hand, changing the subject: "Where's Sanshui? When is he coming back?"
Sanshui was so easy to get information out of.
Mu Zhe's eyes darkened.
Shen Gurong clearly had something on his mind, but Mu Zhe couldn't discern his inner turmoil no matter how hard he tried. He had initially intended to gradually guide his master to trust and rely on him, but after finally taking a step forward, Shen Gurong had backed down.
Moreover, it seemed he was planning to seek Wen Liubing's help to alleviate his distress.
At first, Mu Zhe couldn't understand why Yu Xinghe was so naturally jealous, fighting over even the smallest things. Now he finally understood.
Jealousy truly was like a wild, uncontrollable weed that grew rampant in the wind.
Mu Zhe forcibly suppressed his turbulent thoughts and said gently, "Senior Brother Sanshui has important business to attend to in Fenglu City; he'll likely be busy for quite some time."
Shen Gurong's disappointment was evident: "I see."
Mu Zhe forced a smile and said, "If Master has any difficulties, you can entrust them to Mu Zhe."
Shen Gurong glanced at him upon hearing this and suddenly sighed inwardly.
"You're still just a child."
Mu Zhe: "..."
Mu Zhe's face stiffened, nearly snapping the armrest off his hand.
Over the years, Shen Gurong had always consulted with his senior brothers Xi Guxing and Lou Bugui about important matters. Even the unreliable Wen Liubing could help their master, but Shen Gurong had never once proactively sought out Mu Zhe for advice.
It wasn't that Shen Gurong distrusted him; he simply always felt that Mu Zhe was just an inexperienced child, and a crybaby at that.
Mu Zhe knew this himself, so he desperately wanted to shatter Shen Gurong's first impression.
Mu Zhe took a deep breath and said, "Master, I'm almost seventeen, I'm not a child anymore."
Shen Gurong tilted his head and looked at him, thinking, 'Seventeen years old, how can you not be a child?'
Mu Zhe: "..."
Shen Gurong sighed and said, "You're still young."
Mu Zhe looked at him sullenly.
Seeing his expression, Shen Gurong suddenly laughed: "Are you sulking? You still say you're not a child?"
Mu Zhe, unconsciously acting childish, quickly said, "No, I... I went to exorcise evil with my senior brother before. I've seen countless people and known countless things. What my senior brother can do, I can do too."
As he spoke, his eyes lowered slightly, a skillful glint of tears welling up at the corners. Mu Zhe stammered, "Or is it... my cultivation is too low, not as good as Senior Brother Sanshui's..."
Shen Gurong was taken aback: "No..."
Mu Zhe said, "I will cultivate diligently."
Shen Gurong was speechless.
"One day, I will surpass my senior brother." Mu Zhe raised his eyes, staring intently at Shen Gurong, as if making a solemn vow.
Shen Gurong thought, "Sanshui is already at the Nascent Soul stage. If you want to surpass him, you need to break through to the Nascent Soul stage. Although you are exceptionally talented, these two realms are not easily crossed in a few years or decades." Above the Nascent Soul stage is the Mahayana stage.
In all the years of the Three Realms, only one Mahayana cultivator has emerged—the half-step Saint, Shen Feng Xue.
Mu Zhe pursed his lips, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head, but he still forced himself to hold onto the last glimmer of hope, his tone weaker than before.
He stammered, "I will surpass him..."
Mu Zhe looked like a pitiful puppy drenched in rain. Shen Gurong's heart trembled. He rubbed his temples and said gently, "Alright, you will surpass Sanshui. Master is waiting for you, hmm?"
Mu Zhe: "..."
Shen Gurong's attempt to comfort him, like soothing a child, not only failed to offer Mu Zhe any comfort but also stirred a strange sense of grievance within him.
He... really doesn't believe me.
Shen Gurong noticed Mu Zhe's eyes reddening, as if he was about to cry. He was completely bewildered, unaware that his words had touched a nerve with him. He could only stammer, "You...you're not going to cry, are you?"
Mu Zhe was taken aback, quickly replying, "No."
Shen Gurong wasn't very good at comforting people. After a moment of silence, he suddenly remembered something and said, "By the way, you won first place in the Chanwei Tournament. Tomorrow you can go to the sect leader to collect the champion's prize. I heard there are quite a few spirit stones and two decent spirit weapons."
Mu Zhe wasn't particularly interested, but seeing Shen Gurong's words, he nodded and said, "Yes."
Shen Gurong was puzzled: "Is this child so indifferent even when he sees spirit stones and spirit weapons? If it were Yu Xinghe, he would have already run off to collect them."
Mu Zhe: "..."
Mu Zhe felt offended again.
Despite Shen Gurong's best efforts to reason with him, Mu Zhe remained listless. Shen Gurong then picked up his cup, drinking his tea in small sips, saying nothing.
Shen Feng Xue, being a stern and unsmiling person, didn't find silence awkward.
Mu Zhe remained silent for a while, then suddenly looked up at Shen Gurong, as if he had hesitated for a long time before finally making a decision.
He whispered, "Master."
Shen Gurong: "Hmm?"
Mu Zhe pursed his lips, his thin lips opening and closing several times before finally whispering like a mosquito, "What you said before...um, um..."
Shen Gurong: "..."
Shen Gurong almost couldn't help but slap his hand. He frowned, "Where did this mosquito come from? Can't you speak properly?"
Mu Zhe: "..."
Mu Zhe coughed, raising his voice slightly, and stammered, "What Master said before, if I win first place in the Chanwei Conference, you... will grant me one thing. Does that still count?"
Shen Gurong nodded: "Of course it counts."
This was the first time Mu Zhe had explicitly asked for something. Shen Gurong became interested and asked, "What do you want?"
Mu Zhe's ears turned red, and his trembling finger pointed at Shen Gurong's wrist.
—On that snow-white wrist, wrapped were the wooden beads he never parted with.
Shen Gurong raised his hand and waved it, asking in confusion, "This?"
Mu Zhe nodded, his cheeks flushed, as if he had asked for something extraordinary.
Shen Gurong exclaimed "Oh!" and directly took off the string of beads, casually tossing it to Mu Zhe, saying, "Here you go."
Mu Zhe silently took the beads, but instead of keeping them, he gently removed a bright red bead from the string and returned the entire string of wooden beads.
Shen Gurong: "You only want one?"
Mu Zhe nodded.
Shen Gurong had no choice but to put the bead back on his wrist, looking at Mu Zhe with a puzzled expression.
'Truly childish,' Shen Gurong thought. 'If it were me, I would have chosen the most valuable one.'
Mu Zhe: "..."
Mu Zhe silently strung the bead with a red cord and put it on his wrist.
As evening approached, Shen Gurong finished his tea and took off his cloak.
Seeing this, Mu Zhe paused, his hand stroking the wooden beads, a strange emotion stirring within him.
His master was extremely sensitive to the cold; even in the perpetually spring-like Jiuchun Mountain, he rarely removed his cloak. Usually, he would take off his crane cloak at night to bathe.
Mu Zhe's gaze flickered over his slightly drooping fox ears, and his heart suddenly pounded.
Shen Gurong, his hands tucked into his sleeves, was about to go bathe. He had just slowly stepped out the door when, hearing no sound behind him, he turned his head in confusion and asked, "What are you doing?"
Mu Zhe immediately snapped out of his daze, replying blankly, "Huh?"
Shen Gurong had to remind him, "Clothes."
Mu Zhe then seemed to wake from a daze and hurried to find his master a change of clothes.
Shen Gurong, accustomed to being waited on by Mu Zhe, didn't find anything wrong with ordering his disciple around like a servant, and went to bathe in the hot spring in the backyard.
After a while, the bright moon hung high in the sky. Shen Gurong fumbled for Mu Zhe's clothes, which he had left on the bank, and casually wrapped them around himself.
He frowned as he walked from the backyard to the room. Mu Zhe was tidying up the tea set for him. Seeing him approach, drenched in sweat, Mu Zhe suddenly felt a burning sensation in his eyes and quickly looked down, unable to bear the sight.
Shen Gurong was dressed in white, his hair white, a loose silk scarf covering his eyes. His long hair dripped wetly, slightly dampening the back of his clothes. As he took a step forward, the loose hem of his robe revealed half of his long, slender, jade-like legs.
He was both aloof and alluring.
Mu Zhe, who had been tidying up the tea set slowly, quickened his pace after inadvertently catching a glimpse of this scene. He finished quickly and rose to leave, but Shen Gurong called out to him.
"Wait." Mu Zhe stood there, waiting for him to speak.
After waiting for a long time without Shen Gurong uttering a sound, Mu Zhe hesitantly looked up at him.
Shen Gurong looked very unhappy. Beads of water slowly slid down his forehead, his bright red lips were slightly pursed, and he glared at Mu Zhe with a hint of resentment, seemingly harboring a hidden anger.
Even when Shen Gurong's face was expressionless, it was still intimidating. But Mu Zhe knew him well; seeing this expression, he knew Shen Gurong was probably unwell but unable to express it.
Unwell?
Mu Zhe tried circulating his spiritual energy to listen to his master's inner thoughts.
Shen Gurong's face was indifferent, his white robes and white hair giving him a cold, ethereal appearance, even the moonlight couldn't surpass his radiance.
The moonlit immortal was like a lotus emerging from the water, his eyelashes slightly lowered, his eyes flickering.
'Ahhh! Water... water accidentally got into my ear!'
'It hurts so much, help me, disciple! Quickly understand my eye signal!'
'Help... me!'
Mu Zhe: "..."
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