Chapter 34

Song Qingshi held his brush, pondering for a long time how to compose the letter.

As a man of pure science, he could effortlessly churn out tens of thousands of words for scientific papers, experimental data, or academic debates. But when it came to personal letters requiring emotional expression, his writing became dry and mechanical, resembling work emails or official reports.

His usual correspondence with An Long consisted primarily of research updates and experimental insights...

After much deliberation, he finally began the letter with "My dear friend An Long." He then discreetly omitted Yue Wuhuan’s tribulation, instead detailing his own severe injury from the lightning tribulation in a straightforward manner. He emphasized Yue Wuhuan’s helpless concealment and desperate efforts to save his life, making sure the phrase "debt of life-saving" was written thick and dark, lest someone feign blindness. Finally, he thanked An Long for his concern and urged him to stop dismantling the poison formations, advising him to simply use the main gate.

After reviewing the letter several times, Song Qingshi had Yue Wuhuan check it for any necessary additions. Once confirmed, he sealed it in an envelope. Still feeling a pang of frustration over the large pile of destroyed spirit stones, he took advantage of An Long’s ignorance and drew an Alaskan Malamute’s head next to the name on the envelope to vent his spleen.

Yue Wuhuan glanced at the dog head and chuckled, "Master and Senior An Long share quite a good relationship."

He had long noticed that Song Qingshi’s interactions with An Long differed from those with others. Though they quarreled and fought, the bond between them ran far deeper than imagined.

When An Long sensed something had happened to Song Qingshi, he attacked Medicine King’s Valley like a madman. Yue Wuhuan had barely managed to hold him off by leveraging the arrays and terrain to set traps. Song Qingshi himself didn’t seem to realize—he had only ever given An Long a nickname, only ever fought with An Long, and no matter how fierce their fights, he never truly turned against him.

This discovery was rather displeasing...

Yue Wuhuan smiled faintly. "You two are very good friends, aren’t you?"

"I don’t know," Song Qingshi answered honestly. Having fully integrated with his original body’s memories, he pondered for a moment but found no reference point for such a relationship. Noticing Yue Wuhuan’s curiosity, he explained in detail, "I was born with two spiritual flames. Before reaching Foundation Establishment, they would occasionally go out of control—especially the Nether Flame, which could easily harm others..."

In his childhood, he was adopted by a compassionate old herbalist. They lived deep in the mountains, far from human settlements, cultivating medicinal herbs. After the old herbalist passed away, he studied and cultivated alone. By the time he succeeded in Foundation Establishment and learned to control his spiritual flames, he had finished all the books at home.

Steeling his resolve, he ventured down the mountain to explore the world as described in books.

Back then, he wasn’t good-looking—emaciated, his face gaunt, his eyes disproportionately large, his hair a tangled mess like dry straw. His speech was often incoherent, making him seem odd and off-putting.

After enduring countless disdainful looks, he grew accustomed to not initiating conversations to avoid being disliked...

Later, after inheriting the Medicine King’s legacy and forming his Golden Core, his health improved, and his appearance became less unsightly. With his medical skills, people gradually began approaching him. Yet he had no idea what others meant by "beautiful people, scenery, or things," just as they couldn’t understand his talk of pharmacology, toxicology, or medicine...

Those who walk different paths need not force companionship. There was no need to make others accommodate him.

He was perfectly happy immersing himself in the depths of scholarship alone.

"Everyone thought I was a weirdo," Song Qingshi admitted sheepishly. "An Long is also a weirdo. He loves playing with bugs and always carries various Gu worms. Though I find them fascinating, others seem terrified and avoid him. We met in a hidden realm—he tried to scare me with a bug, but I noticed its unique medical value and curiously asked about it. We ended up discussing specialized knowledge, and afterward, he badgered me to visit Medicine King’s Valley. I agreed..."

Yue Wuhuan listened with keen interest.

Thinking back, Song Qingshi found it amusing. "Having had little social interaction for so long, my speech was severely impaired. Discussing toxicology and pharmacology was manageable, but anything else came out incoherent—I could barely hold a normal conversation. But An Long was perceptive and always understood what I meant. Later, once we grew familiar, he started needling me with new methods or feigning ignorance, forcing me to speak up or even scold him... My record was cursing him relentlessly for half an hour. Now, my speech is much better—no more rambling. I suspect he did it on purpose, but he denies it. Maybe I’m overthinking it..."

Yue Wuhuan remarked with amusement, "Senior An is truly a fascinating character."

"Hmm. He often finds rare medicinal herbs and news from all over, then takes me to collect them. He also taught me many tricks to discern malice and intimidate enemies." Worried Yue Wuhuan might misunderstand him as merely taking advantage of An Long, Song Qingshi added, "I’ve also given him many strange Gu worms and breeding materials, taught him pharmacology, refined medicines for him, and helped him when he was in trouble."

Yue Wuhuan smiled. "Hmm, Master is the best." So good it made one want to devour him.

"I didn’t have other friends before, so I don’t really know how people normally interact with friends." Blushing at the praise, Song Qingshi concluded, "Everyone says An Long and I are a 'pair of eccentrics.' I suppose we’re friends with a pretty good relationship?"

That’s why, no matter how furious he got, he never considered burning this Alaskan to death—and would even treat his injuries if he hit him too hard.

Yue Wuhuan caught the key word. "Before?"

Song Qingshi beamed. "Now there’s also Wu Huan!"

He liked Yue Wuhuan the most—beautiful, intelligent, gentle, considerate, kind, and obedient. He understood everything, never got angry at him without reason, and never provoked him. He was perfect in every way.

The curve of Yue Wuhuan’s lips grew even more enchanting. "Are we good friends?"

Song Qingshi suddenly realized he had unilaterally decided this without consulting the other party—a very bad habit. He asked cautiously, "Is that okay?"

"Of course." Yue Wuhuan’s vines slithered around his calf again, giving a gentle tug. Behind the mask, his eyes fixed intently on the man before him, his voice carrying an unspoken implication. "My feelings for you are the same as his..."

Song Qingshi’s heart skipped two beats under that gaze. Sensing his Nascent Soul destabilizing again, he quickly recited medical sutras in his mind to steady his emotions and suppress the strange perturbations in his heart.

Since waking, he had noticed his Nascent Soul’s condition was quite severe. His cultivation, once nearing Great Completion, had regressed significantly. Not only could he not progress further, but his power also seemed to be gradually dissipating. After ruling out all other causes, it appeared his Daoist heart was the issue.

This body lacked a physical heart, so he had chosen the Path of Severed Emotions—free from desire, undisturbed by emotions.

Since cultivating the Path of Severed Emotions, even failing experiments eighty or a hundred times didn’t faze him.

He had wondered if he had developed feelings for Yue Wuhuan, but a man’s love and desire were intertwined. He was certain he felt no such desire toward Yue Wuhuan—didn’t even dare entertain the thought, fearing it might trigger the other’s past torment.

After logical deduction, perhaps it was because knowing Yue Wuhuan had led to repeated extremes of joy and sorrow, destabilizing his emotions and affecting his Daoist heart?

Pondering this, Song Qingshi activated the Cold Jade Technique, diverting some spiritual power from the Nether Flame to protect his Nascent Soul and curb the dissipation. As long as he didn’t overuse spiritual power and exhaust his dantian, his cultivation wouldn’t collapse due to emotional fluctuations for now. The rest could be resolved slowly—after all, a Nascent Soul Cultivator’s lifespan was long, and his patience was among the best in the immortal realm.

Noticing his sudden silence, Yue Wuhuan asked uneasily, "Master, are you unwell?"

Song Qingshi shook his head with a smile and summoned a messenger bird to send the letter to An Long.

As the bird soared into the azure expanse, Song Qingshi's gaze lingered upon its flight, when abruptly he recalled—those children rescued from Xie Que's lair still required proper shelter...

Yue Wuhuan, hearing him mention this, smiled. "They were deeply traumatized by the furnace vessel ordeal. After learning how difficult it was for mortals to tread the immortal path, most chose to return home. As long as they don’t act foolishly again, the elixirs and techniques they received will let them live well in the mortal world. The remaining six—either homeless or unwilling to return—I took the liberty of keeping. I also selected about thirty talented apothecary attendants to study medicine and alchemy in the valley. A few show great promise and could become Master’s research aides."

Elated, Song Qingshi forgot about An Long entirely and eagerly asked to visit the school.

Yue Wuhuan fetched a newly tailored robe in the original style and draped a beautiful white fox fur mantle over it. "Master, it’s still chilly outside—it’s only spring."

Song Qingshi pinched the soft fur, noting the flame-repelling formation woven into the cloak. He loved it. Though he wasn’t afraid of the cold, he adored warm things. He wondered how his guardian had discovered this secret.

His alchemical fire manifested in the air, coalescing into a vermilion lotus.

Stepping onto the lotus, Song Qingshi flew slowly out of the palace with Yue Wuhuan by his side.

Before him lay a sight he had never seen before—the once sparsely scattered trees in the courtyard had been replaced by a riot of blossoms. Wisteria hung in curtains, peonies bloomed with enchanting grace, and tree peonies stood regal, alongside peach, pear, and apricot blossoms...

Nearly all the most beautiful flowers of spring gathered here, their colors arranged in perfect harmony like a masterpiece.

The pond, once home to only a few koi, now hosted cranes and mandarin ducks, their necks entwined beneath the lakeside rocks, their calls soft and plaintive...

Stunned, Song Qingshi turned to check the plaque above—yes, this was still his palace.

Yue Wuhuan explained, "With many parts of Medicine King’s Valley needing repairs and the increased personnel requiring new courtyards, I presumed to redesign the scenery. If Master dislikes it... it can be restored to its original state..."

"I love it," Song Qingshi answered instantly, praising sincerely. "It’s especially beautiful!"

Medicine King’s Valley had originally been occupied by a sect of demonic cultivators. After discovering they used children for alchemy, Song Qingshi purged the heretical sect. Noting the land’s ideal terrain for growing herbs and its well-equipped alchemical laboratories, he settled there and gradually rebuilt it into its current form.

Most buildings were remnants of the demonic sect, and later additions were purely functional, their names hastily named after pharmacopoeia—aesthetics had never been a consideration.

As a logically inclined person, he knew nothing about artistic design, but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate beautiful things...

He wore white to make his figure appear less frail, but in truth, he preferred lively colors...

The courtyard before him was dazzlingly vibrant and unrestrained, every detail perfectly to his liking.

Yue Wuhuan watched his admiring gaze with satisfaction, licking lips dry with desire, his heart completely satisfied.

Just like this... gradually staining those pure eyes with his presence.

Until it became a habit, an inseparable part of life.

Never to be separated.

Author's Note:

Important note: Wu Huan confessed! (Though it's a confession he doesn’t want the other to know about.)

Song Xueba: I never once thought that I might be the bottom (the submissive partner).

Yue Wuhuan: I suspect the Master’s desires are all for the white mouse spirit.