Chapter 28

The Master climbed into his bed every day, and Yue Wuhuan devised many strategies to counter him.

First, he coaxed Song Qingshi into changing back into simple robes—the kind that covered him completely—using excuses like the weather being cold and his stomach being uncomfortable. Next, when Song Qingshi turned over in his sleep, Yue Wuhuan would quickly extend his right arm to act as a pillow or turn his back to him, avoiding full-body contact. Finally, he relied on "Emotion Lock" to suppress his desires, barely managing to maintain a semblance of normalcy.

Though Yue Wuhuan slept uncomfortably, he never once considered kicking Song Qingshi out or laying out an extra bed beside him. He felt that the way Song Qingshi clung tightly to him in sleep was eerily similar to the illusion he once had, giving him a beautiful delusion—that the other person liked him. He would rather endure this painful pleasure than let go.

Song Qingshi, on the other hand, believed that two men sleeping innocently at opposite ends of the bed shouldn’t lead to improper thoughts. During his summer breaks in elementary school, he often slept with his cousins, and when he went abroad for middle school, he once shared a large bed with a senior when no rooms with twin beds were available. Though he was inexplicably beaten up and kicked to the sofa the next day, he had plenty of experience sleeping beside men and saw no issue with it!

He wanted to prove to Yue Wuhuan that a good man would never make unwanted advances at night! He hoped this would dispel Yue Wuhuan’s distrust of men!

Yue Wuhuan had somewhat adapted to sleeping with him, though it did lead to a new habit—taking a bath every morning...

Song Qingshi smelled himself, wondering if he wasn’t clean enough, so he started bathing more frequently too. He even added some fragrant herbs to the bathwater, making sure his body smelled pleasant to avoid offending his roommate’s sensitive, fastidious nose.

About ten days later, the long-awaited message from Night Rain Pavilion finally arrived.

After reading the message in the jade slip, Song Qingshi pondered for a long time before seeking out Yue Wuhuan. Hesitantly, he said, “Ye Lin sent me a letter. I have some previously ordered goods that I need to pick up in person, so I’ll be away for a few days. Could you take care of Little Bai for me while I’m gone? They’re in their breeding season, and I don’t trust the medicine servants with them...”

“If the Master must leave, it must be for something important,” Yue Wuhuan immediately understood the underlying meaning of his words. “I’ll take care of myself, use ‘Emotion Lock’ to control my condition, take my medicine on time, and ensure you have no worries. If anything happens, I’ll notify you promptly with a messenger bird.”

Song Qingshi breathed a small sigh of relief. He selected a few experienced Foundation Establishment Cultivators among the medicine servants to keep an eye on Yue Wuhuan, then activated all of Medicine King Valley’s poison arrays to prevent enemy intrusion. After Yue Wuhuan reminded him, he even left behind a *life token* so Yue Wuhuan could monitor his safety at all times and avoid sleepless worry.

...

Nanchuan, Misty Cloud Mountains, Ruoxu Peak.

Song Qingshi landed with his divine beast, carefully surveying the area. The Misty Cloud Mountains were filled with babbling streams, cascading waterfalls, and swirling clouds—giving off an ethereal, celestial aura. Yet, within a thousand-mile radius, there were no immortal sects or towns, only a few small mortal villages. This meant the place lacked spiritual veins, secret realms, or valuable spiritual flora and fauna—it was a backwater of the cultivation world.

What a perfect location—one in a million...

The more furious Song Qingshi became, the colder his expression grew.

Ye Lin’s letter had informed him that Xie Que had retreated to the sect he founded—this place called Yanshan Sect, which was also where Yue Wuhuan had grown up. These children from the mortal world had been deceived into living in this abandoned land, believing it to be a paradise. Cut off from the outside world, they practiced the most basic cultivation techniques, learned entirely incorrect knowledge, and had their every word and action indoctrinated by Xie Que.

Things like “immortals must pay attention to their appearance,” “immortals must maintain proper posture,” “Yanshan Sect cultivates the Dao through music,” “you must take care of your hands,” and “your master loves you the most and can’t bear to see you hurt even a little!”

Xie Que was a consummate liar and actor; his deception was nearly flawless.

Yue Wuhuan had once had the chance to stand before Song Qingshi’s original self, but even then, the truth about Xie Que hadn’t been uncovered, squandering a golden opportunity.

Though no one blamed him for it, Song Qingshi internalized every action of his original self, as if they were his own. The regret gnawed at him whenever he thought about it, and he resented the system teacher for not making him transmigrate earlier—so he could have beaten some sense into that fool obsessed with alchemy!

Yue Wuhuan, however, didn’t mind at all. He said that if even he hadn’t seen through it, how could he blame the Master for kindly curing and saving him?

“There were actually several chances for me to discover the truth,” Yue Wuhuan recalled, somewhat perplexed himself. “But every time, I somehow missed them. Many coincidences were so unbelievable, it was as if fate had destined me for this calamity.”

In any case, it was all Xie Que’s fault!

Song Qingshi waved his hand, controlling dozens of dragonflies and butterflies with spiritual energy, imprinting his Divine Sense to them. He used the insects’ eyes to search for Xie Que’s whereabouts.

This was a clever technique he had learned from An Long back then—using Divine Sense through insects made detection far harder to notice. At the time, An Long was just a Foundation Establishment Cultivator who had tried using this method to control snakes and scare him in the bath. After being caught, he handed over this self-created *gu* technique, which Song Qingshi refined into something quite useful.

As he walked, he continued controlling insects, sending countless butterflies and dragonflies toward Yanshan Sect.

The entire sect came into view—a dozen or so courtyards with whitewashed walls and blue-tiled roofs surrounded by blossoming trees, with mortal servants tending to chickens, ducks, and geese. A few cute-looking dogs lounged lazily beneath the trees, basking in the sun. Though they appeared ordinary, they were actually *spirit dogs*, highly skilled at tracking—likely used to prevent slaves from escaping.

Concealing his aura, Song Qingshi perched in a blossoming tree outside the courtyard, using the eyes of countless flying insects to observe the interiors. Yanshan Sect housed about twenty children, ranging from six to seventeen or eighteen years old. All wore neat blue moon-patterned robes, dressed similarly to ordinary immortal sect disciples. Each had remarkable features, brimming with vitality and good health.

Their relationships were harmonious—senior disciples mentored juniors in their studies. On the training grounds, a bright-eyed sixteen- or seventeen-year-old boy helped a new disciple stretch, explaining the importance of flexibility in body cultivation. Under a blossoming tree, a twelve- or thirteen-year-old girl tutored another girl of the same age who seemed a bit slow-witted. The two appeared to be close friends, with the slower girl struggling to memorize the text. The tutor tapped her head lightly in frustration, complaining that if she kept being this dumb, she’d end up at the bottom of the exams—how had their master even taken a liking to her? The slow girl immediately teared up, whimpering tearfully until her friend relented... In the kitchen, a mischievous boy of eight or nine was trying to sneak a bite of steamed buns.

Everyone was happy, as if living in an idyllic paradise, untouched by suffering.

They were blithely unaware, waiting for the gates of hell to open.

Song Qingshi drifted into thought...

Finally, Xie Que appeared, catching the bread-stealing boy and dragging him back to the study for discipline.

Song Qingshi immediately had a butterfly cling tightly to the study’s window.

Inside, a frail-looking girl was copying texts, her brushstrokes as elegant as pine and bamboo, resembling the style of a master calligrapher. Xie Que brought the thieving boy to her, instructing her to supervise his punishment—copying texts. The girl obediently complied, guiding the boy’s hand as he practiced writing.

Xie Que sighed. “You fidgety little monkey, why can’t you learn from your senior brother Wuhuan? By your age, he already had excellent handwriting and had memorized all the books in the library.”

“You’re always telling me to learn from Senior Brother Wuhuan, always praising him,” the boy retorted stubbornly. “But Senior Brother Wuhuan went to a prestigious sect to cultivate years ago and never came back to visit you! He’s clearly heartless too!”

Song Qingshi paused, studying the boy’s face closely. His features were strikingly beautiful, bearing a faint resemblance to Yue Wuhuan—though his eyes were large and almond-shaped rather than phoenix-like. His temperament was also different—wild and untamed, like a spirited cat.

The girl rapped his head. “Don’t talk nonsense.”

“Ah, yes, yes, it’s my fault for forgetting you and Wuhuan are different,” Xie Que laughed, unbothered. After studying the boy for a moment, he patted his head. “My Ming Hong has the kindest heart. I’m sure you’ll achieve great things.”

The boy, Ming Hong, lowered his head bashfully. “Hong’er was just a little beggar. If not for Master picking me up and taking care of me, I wouldn’t be here today. Hong’er loves Master the most—I won’t let you down.”

Xie Que stroked his head approvingly. “Then I’ll be waiting.”

The scene was one of masterly kindness and filial devotion, warm and harmonious.

Song Qingshi could take no more. Unwilling to involve bystanders, he summoned his *lifebound treasure*—two lotuses, one of Red Lotus Mystic Fire and the other of Nether Flame, bloomed in his palms. He raised his hand, sending the Mystic Fire Lotus high into the air, where it rapidly expanded, enveloping the entire study in a flame barrier that allowed no entry or exit. Then, cradling the Nether Flame Black Lotus, he stepped into the study.

Xie Que, seeing this, was terrified. He staggered back, forcing a trembling smile when he recognized the intruder. “Medicine King Immortal, what brings you here...? It’s been over a decade since we last met at Medicine King Valley. I’ve always been grateful for your life-saving detoxification. If there’s anything I can do for you today, I won’t refuse...”

The girl, sensing danger, quickly pulled Ming Hong behind Xie Que.

The Nether Flame Black Lotus bloomed, and tongues of poisonous fire lashed at Xie Que’s face. As he screamed, his flesh rapidly corroded, revealing bone beneath.

Song Qingshi said coldly, “You don’t need this face.”

Xie Que thrashed in agony. He had been hiding from Songhe Sect’s pursuit until recently, when a reconciliation was reached—apparently, Jin Feiren had developed genuine feelings for Bai Zihao, and Elder He, known for his philandering, had more than one illegitimate child. Golden Phoenix Manor compensated Songhe Sect generously, promising to treat Bai Zihao well and not as a slave, appeasing their anger. Xie Que had returned the money from Bai Zihao’s sale and even gifted Elder He a beautiful slave as an apology, settling the matter.

Amidst all this, he hadn’t paid attention to other affairs.

Though Yue Wuhuan had been his most valuable “merchandise,” that was ten years ago. Now, he was just a discarded plaything, not worth noting. He had heard Yue Wuhuan was taken as a medicine slave by Medicine King Valley after being severely injured, but he hadn’t cared. His only regret was that none of the new beauties he had raised could compare to Yue Wuhuan.

Now, Medicine King Immortal was here with clear hostility—likely because Yue Wuhuan had sweet-talked him into seeking revenge.

That child had always been clever and cunning. Xie Que had spent great effort back then to keep the truth hidden, but now...

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Xie Que prostrated himself, pretending submission while his mind raced for excuses.

“You villain! Don’t hurt my master!” Ming Hong, seeing his master injured, couldn’t hold back. Pushing past the girl restraining him, he rushed forward in tears, throwing himself at Song Qingshi’s leg and biting down hard—only to find even the robe unbreakable. He let out a puppy's whimper of frustration.

Song Qingshi looked down quietly at the child biting his leg and those furious eyes.

The girl screamed in fear, “Ming Hong! Come back!”

Xie Que retreated step by step, forcing a smile. “Immortal Lord, there’s been a misunderstanding. I couldn’t bear to part with Wuhuan either. Back then... it was Golden Phoenix Manor who took a liking to him and forced me...”

Ming Hong, eyes red, ignored everything else, kicking and biting with all his might, trying to use his weak strength to hold Song Qingshi back so his master could escape.

That familiar face overlapped with one from memory...

“Hong’er loves Master the most—I won’t let you down.”

“Wuhuan loves Master the most—I don’t want to shame you.”

Song Qingshi lifted his head slowly and whispered, “Back then... Wuhuan was just like this too...”