Chapter 29

Xie Que was a pathological liar; nothing he said was worth hearing.

Song Qingshi had no desire to speak with him. The black lotus in his palm blossomed anew, and four tendrils of poisonous flame coiled around Xie Que’s limbs, threatening to corrode flesh and bone. Xie Que swiftly tore off the jade pendant around his neck, unleashing a golden defensive formation that blocked most of the attack. The pendant, corrupted by the virulent poison, turned black before crumbling into dust. The residual flames continued their assault, pockmarking his legs with spreading black lesions that slowly expanded.

Though Xie Que’s cultivation talent was mediocre, years of trafficking slaves had earned him a few decent protective treasures.

Slumped on the ground, he trembled as he slowly dragged himself backward, pleading incessantly, “Spare me, Master! I—I’ll give you everything I own… If you like Wu Huan… then—then this boy, Ming Hong, is the spitting image of young Wu Huan. You—you can take him back and raise him…”

Ming Hong froze, unable to comprehend the meaning behind those words.

Xie Que, sensing Song Qingshi’s hesitation, continued to entice him while inching away, “When Wu Huan was his age, he dressed just like this… All proper manners on the surface, but a little rebel underneath. Look closely at Ming Hong’s face—everything but the eyes is a perfect match… Would you like to know about Wu Huan’s past?”

Under the relentless erosion of the poisonous flames, his spiritual energy waned.

A delicate-looking girl, who had been hiding nearby, finally broke free from the restraints within her body. She lunged forward, tearing down a scroll hanging behind Xie Que—revealing an intricate teleportation array beneath, his last desperate escape plan.

Xie Que coughed up blood in fury, roaring, “You treacherous brat!”

Song Qingshi realized then that Xie Que’s constant mentions of Yue Wuhuan were merely a distraction, a ploy to buy time for his escape.

While the Nether Flame meant certain death for Xie Que even if he fled, it would disrupt Song Qingshi’s plans.

The most terrifying thing in the immortal realm was never death.

Song Qingshi’s black lotus bloomed again, thoroughly incinerating Xie Que’s limbs and rendering him immobile. Then, he extended his Divine Sense, invading Xie Que’s consciousness to search for the command phrase of the Pleasure Seal. Though the expanse of the consciousness limited his probing to events from a few years prior, Xie Que’s frequent slave branding meant the most recent imprinting process would suffice.

Soon, images surfaced in the mindscape:

A young girl, having overheard her impending sale, attempted to flee but was caught by spirit hounds and locked in an array. Tears streamed down her face as the demon meticulously inscribed the Pleasure Seal’s sensual designs onto her back. Her desperate pleas for mercy went unanswered until the final command—the characters “Xie Que” rendered in archaic script—was branded into her flesh. Xie Que watched her tears with amusement, as though appraising market-ready cattle.

Having found the answer, Song Qingshi withdrew his Divine Sense, annihilated the vile consciousness, and extracted Xie Que’s soul, sealing it into a prepared vessel.

He turned to the girl beside him and asked softly, “You knew?”

This girl, Qing Luan, was the very person he had just seen in the mindscape.

Qing Luan collapsed to the ground, momentarily dazed before the realization of her freedom from Xie Que’s control overwhelmed her. Years of pent-up anguish exploded in violent sobs. Seeing her distress, Song Qingshi approached, extending a hand to soothe her with spiritual energy.

“You monster!” Ming Hong rushed forward, flinging himself protectively over Qing Luan, tears streaming down his face. “You’ve already killed Master! Don’t hurt Sister Qing Luan too!”

Though something about his master’s words had felt off, he couldn't bring himself to believe that the man who had plucked him from the streets, raised him, and taught him cultivation could ever harm him. Surely… his master had only fled out of fear.

Song Qingshi sighed at the stubborn child, at a loss to explain the situation.

Qing Luan slowly rose, walked over to Ming Hong, and struck him hard across the face, screaming, “Don’t call that beast ‘Master’!”

Ming Hong fell to the ground, clutching his cheek in shock at the gentle elder sister who had always cared for him.

Qing Luan stared at him through her tears before slowly undoing her garments.

Ming Hong cried out, “Sister, have you lost your mind?! There are men here! Why are you undressing?!”

Song Qingshi averted his gaze, adhering to propriety.

Qing Luan turned, lifting her hair to reveal the intricate Pleasure Seal etched into her back.

Ming Hong stammered, “What… is this?”

“Xie Que told you all that I would soon leave to study music at Miaoyin Sect…” Qing Luan said quietly. “That was a lie. I was already sold—to Moonlight Pavilion. This mark turns humans into livestock… Do you know what Moonlight Pavilion is, Ming Hong?”

Ming Hong shook his head, a cold dread coiling in his gut.

“Moonlight Pavilion reigns as the grandest pleasure house in the immortal realm. Soon, your sister will become a courtesan, selling her charms at the door,” Qing Luan laughed bitterly, tears unceasing. “Do you know what a courtesan is? A slave who services men daily, pleasuring them with her body in bed.”

Ming Hong trembled violently. “N-no, that can’t be…”

“Why not?” Qing Luan rearranged her robes and stepped closer. “Foolish child, do you know? Being sold to Moonlight Pavilion was the best outcome I could beg for! At least they have rules—the torment there has limits! Hah… I groveled and flattered that beast just to become a shameless woman! Isn’t that laughable? But don’t pity me yet. Do you know what awaits you?”

Ming Hong recoiled at her feverish intensity, tears spilling over.

“Ming Hong… you resemble Brother Wu Huan. That’s why the beast favored you,” Qing Luan whispered, tracing his delicate features with trembling fingers. “Brother Wu Huan wasn’t ungrateful—he was sold to the Golden Phoenix Estate, a hell that shattered him beyond repair. They placed an order for another beauty like him… and you were chosen.”

Ming Hong asked fearfully, “Chosen for what?”

Qing Luan smirked coldly. “The same as me—to serve men with your body.”

Ming Hong went white. “But I’m a man! How could I—?!”

Qing Luan leaned in, hissing graphic details into his ear…

Ming Hong gagged, tears pouring as the horror sank in.

Song Qingshi did not stop her. These beautiful mortal children had no luxury of innocence.

Once her emotions were spent, Qing Luan regained composure. She dragged the broken Ming Hong before Song Qingshi and kowtowed deeply, thanking him for saving their lives. Then, she revealed the location of Xie Que’s Mustard Seed Bag and hidden treasures.

Inside the bag were tens of thousands of spirit stones, two Divine Sense Beads (one belonging to Qing Luan), account books, and bundles of contracts—each stained with blood and tears. Song Qingshi retrieved Moonlight Pavilion’s deposit agreement and returned it along with the other Divine Sense Bead to Qing Luan, who hugged them to her chest gratefully, weeping uncontrollably.

Among the ledgers, Song Qingshi found Yue Wuhuan’s name—traded for a measly thirty pecks of mermaid pearls, a price that had condemned his entire life.

He never knew words could make his eyes burn so…

Originally intending to kill Xie Que and leave, Song Qingshi now hesitated at the sight of the kneeling Ming Hong and Qing Luan—they reminded him too much of Yue Wuhuan in his youth. Unable to abandon them, he instructed Qing Luan to gather the others, expose Xie Que’s crimes, and offer those wishing to return to the mortal world longevity elixirs as a boon of celestial fortune. Those with nowhere to go could choose to become medicinal attendants at the Valley of the Medicine King, tending gardens or compounding medicines.

Despite her delicate appearance, Qing Luan worked efficiently. She mustered everyone in the courtyard, then used her Pleasure Seal, the ledgers, and contracts as proof, then employed the second Divine Sense Bead to control another branded youth. The truth quickly became undeniable.

The children broke down—some crying, others vomiting in revulsion.

The human staff, equally unaware, stood aghast.

Qing Luan, aided by the handful still holding themselves together, comforted them one by one.

Meanwhile, Song Qingshi sat alone in the distant library, drafting a missive to Night Rain Pavilion. He requested Ye Lin to hire a magic boat from Divine Beast Gate to transport all the children to the Valley of the Medicine King for further arrangements. Renowned for their dependable conveyances (albeit expensive), Divine Beast Gate’s fees could be covered by the seized spirit stones.

The messenger hawk wouldn't return until tomorrow for a reply.

Unable to resist, Song Qingshi also wrote to Yue Wuhuan. He hovered over the brush, a thousand unspoken words tangling his thoughts. After multiple revisions, he simply stated he would return a day late, was safe, and not to worry.

Once Qing Luan had settled everything and had the children gather their belongings, she reported back to the Master.

Watching as lanterns flickered to life across Yanshan Sect, Song Qingshi asked softly, “You’ve met Wu Huan before, haven’t you?”

Qing Luan answered carefully, “Master, I was brought here at age six. Brother Wu Huan was sent away half a year later.”

Song Qingshi gestured for her to sit and hesitated before asking, “Could you tell me about him back then?”

Qing Luan pondered before replying, “I was too young to understand much. Brother Wu Huan was kind—he often looked after us new children, teaching us to read and write…”

Her patchy memories sketched a portrait of a gentle youth, which Song Qingshi inscribed carefully in his journal.

"Whenever there was something good, Brother Wu Huan always gave way to us. Even if we made mistakes, he never got angry with us."

"Brother Wu Huan was so smart and capable, our role model. After he left, we grieved for a long time."

"Everyone loved stealing glances at him because he was just too beautiful..."

"Brother Wu Huan loved the color red—most of his clothes were red."

"Brother Wu Huan liked to sit on the phoenix tree practicing his music. He played so beautifully that birds would perch just to listen."

"Brother Wu Huan's smile was the most radiant, as if all the brilliance in the world had gathered upon him, too dazzling to look away."

"..."

Song Qingshi carefully recorded each detail before asking, "Do you know what Wu Huan liked to eat?"

"Brother Wu Huan wasn't picky about food, but he was especially fastidious about cleanliness," Qing Luan suddenly recalled an endearing memory from the past and shared, "He would never eat anything touched by others or anything that had gotten dirty. Even a cup of water—if someone else had sipped from it, he wouldn't drink it... But he wouldn't say anything to trouble others, choosing to go thirsty or hungry instead. Everyone slowly realized this... He also seemed to dislike others touching his things or sitting on his bed. Though he wouldn't get angry if they did, he would secretly clean afterward..."

So Yue Wuhuan's cleanliness obsession predated his medical studies. His aversion to filth must have made those dirty experiences even harder to endure.

Song Qingshi paused his notes, lost in thought. He suddenly remembered that Yue Wuhuan had drunk from his cup several times and even eaten his leftovers without showing any distaste. He had never minded Song Qingshi entering his room or sleeping in his bed. Had Yue Wuhuan's fastidiousness lessened over time? Or was he enduring it silently to avoid causing trouble? He would have to ask when he returned, to avoid unknowingly violating his boundaries.

Song Qingshi then asked, "Do you know what Wu Huan liked?"

Qing Luan abruptly stopped her enthusiastic reminiscing. After a long pause, she couldn't help but smile. "Pretty stones..."

Song Qingshi was surprised. "Stones?"

"Master, please follow me." Qing Luan stood and led Song Qingshi to a dusty storage room filled with discarded items—broken balls, a snapped swing, cloth tigers, calligraphy practice books, and other trinkets. They seemed to be belongings left behind by past children. After rummaging through the pile, Qing Luan pulled out an old wooden box and handed it to Song Qingshi.

The box was crudely handmade, carved with a clumsy bird design. Inside were a few common but beautiful stones—a river stone speckled with gold, an emerald-green glass bead, a black stone etched with a landscape resembling an ink painting...

"There used to be many more, including some gemstones," Qing Luan said sadly. "After Brother Wu Huan left, the valuable ones disappeared, leaving only these. I hid the box here, afraid he wouldn't find it if he returned. Now, it can finally go back to its rightful owner..."

Song Qingshi held the lightweight box. "These were his?"

Qing Luan nodded. "I once saw Brother Wu Huan secretly picking stones by the river, sorting through thousands, even tens of thousands, until he found the most beautiful ones to place in this box. It was filled with vibrant, colorful stones—truly breathtaking. When he noticed me watching, he seemed embarrassed and gave me lots of candy, asking me to keep it secret..."

"Brother Wu Huan treasured this box. He always kept it by his pillow and never let anyone see inside." Qing Luan's voice thickened with emotion as she reminisced. "After he left, I found this box in Xie Que's possession. He had given the worthless stones inside to the children as toys. I refused to believe Brother Wu Huan would abandon something so precious, so I grew suspicious and secretly searched for his whereabouts... until I discovered the truth—that he had been sold into slavery..."

Song Qingshi suddenly felt the box grow heavy in his hands, making his heart ache with sadness.

He turned slowly and began to walk away...

"Master," Qing Luan suddenly called after him. Wiping away her tears, she smiled and bowed deeply. "Thank you... Thank you for saving Brother Wu Huan. I'm so happy he's still alive... He was always so good, deserving of all the kindness in the world. Master, you must be very fond of him, don't you?"

Song Qingshi blinked. "Care for him?"

Qing Luan's eyes shone with hope. "Only someone you care for would inspire you to do all these things."

Her answer threw Song Qingshi's heart into confusion.

He had come to this world for his system teacher's mission, yet at some point, he could no longer treat its inhabitants as just fictional characters. His kindness toward Yue Wuhuan felt like an instinct ingrained in his bones—he longed to give him everything in the world, to wipe away his suffering and restore his happiness.

But the "fondness" in Qing Luan's eyes was different from what he had once understood.

He didn't quite grasp this feeling. Was it an increase in phenylethylamine? Medical texts described phenylethylamine as a mental stimulant, causing a racing heart and flushed cheeks, with side effects of bias and obsession, compromising rational thought...

He didn't feel his analytical judgment weakening.

Wasn't he just treating and saving a patient?

A doctor shouldn't harbor such thoughts toward a patient—it violated professional ethics.

Lost in contemplation, Song Qingshi wandered to the riverbank. Staring blankly at the stones scattered across the ground, he crouched down and began picking them up one by one. Thousands, tens of thousands—he searched what seemed like forever without finding one stone good enough for Wu Huan. But there was no hurry. He could keep looking, slowly and patiently...

Author's Note:

Song Qingshi (dead serious): Of course Wu Huan can't be the one to kill Xie Que. He's so kind and gentle—what if he hesitates and lets that bastard die too easily? Besides... how could I let something so filthy dirty his hands?

Yue Wuhuan (pulling his sheepskin cloak tighter): Mhm, killing is too terrifying.