Chapter 53

Yue Wuhuan noticed his Master had become clingy. He was always trailing him, eager to chat—about the weather, the peonies in the garden, birds flying overhead, or delicious food. Could it be related to that secret manual on master-disciple interactions he’d hidden away, keeping it from Yue Wuhuan’s sight?

He pressed Immortal Lord Yan Yuan for answers.

Immortal Lord Yan Yuan, not daring to provoke a madman, immediately spilled everything.

Upon learning the truth, Yue Wuhuan found it utterly amusing. He enthusiastically played the role of the obedient disciple, indulging his Master in this little game.

Song Qingshi was, in fact, terrible at small talk; no matter the topic, he’d kill the conversation within three sentences.

Yue Wuhuan loved watching him rack his brains, desperately searching for things to say. It was truly adorable. Occasionally, when Song Qingshi was utterly stumped, Yue Wuhuan would even restart the topic for him, shortening the awkward silences.

Before bed, Yue Wuhuan found Song Qingshi had once again climbed onto his bed, settling by his pillow with a copy of *Tales of Kangqu* in hand. "Let’s have a bedtime story," he declared very seriously.

Yue Wuhuan rested his head on the pillow, listening as Song Qingshi began reading a fable about a big tiger and a little white rabbit. He felt a fleeting sense of nostalgia, as if transported back to his childhood, when his mother would murmur stories by his ear...

After a few pages, Song Qingshi paused and concluded, "I think I picked the wrong book."

He had casually grabbed a popular bedtime story from the Crimson Dragon Sect disciples—supposedly wholesome and educational, with a harmless-looking title. Expecting no issues, he hadn’t bothered to check the content, thinking it would be a nice bonding activity. Unfortunately, the intended audience for this "bedtime story" seemed wildly inappropriate. The Crimson Dragon Sect had many young disciples...

At least children’s books were morally sound. He was somewhat curious about how the little white rabbit would outsmart the big tiger.

Song Qingshi had excellent reading habits and disliked leaving things unfinished. So, he persevered, forcing himself to read to the end.

Yue Wuhuan buried his face in the blankets, muffling his laughter.

"Tomorrow, I’ll get a different book," Song Qingshi said, feeling a little foolish. Still, if it made Yue Wuhuan happy, it was worth it.

Yue Wuhuan laughed for a long time before resurfacing from the blankets, curious to see what Song Qingshi would do next.

Seeing that Yue Wuhuan showed no signs of sleepiness, Song Qingshi helplessly suggested, "Since you’re not sleepy, how about we solve some advanced math problems?"

"Alright," Yue Wuhuan replied, even more amused. "I love doing this kind of thing with Master in bed."

Delighted by his enthusiasm, Song Qingshi took out paper and pen, diligently solving over twenty problems and explaining numerous mathematical formulas.

Yue Wuhuan buried himself in the problems, learning with great joy.

In the end, he noticed Song Qingshi had once again fallen asleep beside him, utterly vulnerable.

The Blood King Vine couldn’t resist slowly extending its tendrils from all directions, forming a spiderweb-like lattice around him, poking and prodding, as if trying to capture its prey. Greedily, it contemplated the sleeping figure for a long while before finally reining in its impulses, retracting all but a single vine that gently coiled around Song Qingshi’s ankle.

*No rush.*

***

The next day, after much contemplation, Song Qingshi reviewed all the bedtime stories he knew. *Snow White* or *The Ugly Duckling* didn’t seem appropriate for Yue Wuhuan either. Solving math problems every night wasn’t a solution—Yue Wuhuan’s academic zeal outstripped even his, growing more energetic the more they practiced. By the time Song Qingshi fell asleep, Yue Wuhuan was still wide awake.

He decided to find a storybook suitable for adults and try again.

Yue Wuhuan had already finished *The Three Tiger-Hunting Brothers* and even offered a keen analysis of it.

He needed a more interesting bedtime read...

After much deliberation, Song Qingshi seized the moment while Yue Wuhuan was studying talismans with the Crimson Dragon Sect disciples to search for books. However, the libraries of various sects were forbidden areas, off-limits without permission. Being a stickler for rules, he intended to ask Immortal Lord Yan Yuan for access. Unexpectedly, on the way, he encountered Nian Nian.

Nian Nian was a mischievous child with an outgoing personality and a tendency to be overly familiar.

Though Immortal Lord Yan Yuan had repeatedly warned his disciples that Medicine King Immortal was eccentric and not to be provoked, Nian Nian didn’t quite believe it. To her, this cultivator who had saved her seemed mild-mannered, and his interactions with Wu Huan didn’t match the rumors of cruelty at all—he was incredibly kind.

She took to this brotherly figure.

Nian Nian cheerfully greeted Song Qingshi and asked what he was looking for.

In the presence of such a cheerful little girl, Song Qingshi felt more at ease speaking. He asked, "Do you know any bedtime stories suitable for adults? The kind your senior brothers and sisters are engrossed in before sleep. Could you help me borrow a few?"

"I know!" Nian Nian immediately understood. "Senior Sister Lan has lots of them. She reads them every night, and the other senior sisters are always borrowing them. Senior Sister Lan is very generous—she lets everyone take them freely. But these past couple of days, she’s been acting strange, as if afraid Master would scold her for slacking off... She hid them away. But I know where! Wait here, I’ll bring you some."

Overjoyed, Song Qingshi thanked her repeatedly and returned to his room to brew a pot of spirit tea, ready to carefully select his reading material.

Before long, Nian Nian came running back with a pile of a dozen-odd books, handing them excitedly to Song Qingshi before hurrying away.

Song Qingshi took a sip of spirit tea and opened the first book, *The Record of Captive Joy*. He quickly noticed that the protagonist’s profession and name were suspiciously similar to his own—a master of both healing and poison named Qing Shi, who captured a mortal beauty named Yue Huan. The story opened with a passionate kiss scene: Qing Shi pinned Yue Huan against a stone wall, capturing his lips in a fervent embrace, their breaths mingling as they tasted sweetness and reveled in carnal delights...

Sipping his tea slowly, Song Qingshi felt something was off. After much contemplation, a realization struck him, rendering him speechless.

Was this book insinuating a story about him and Yue Wuhuan?

When had he ever done such shameless things to Yue Wuhuan?

Song Qingshi flipped through a few more pages and discovered this was a shockingly graphic novel, depicting him forcing the beauty into all sorts of acts that were downright obscene—graphic, adult-only content that left one burning with embarrassment. Horrified, he dropped the book and picked up another. The second book featured the beauty seducing him, the two indulging in pleasure. The third depicted him binding the beauty and engaging in all sorts of tormented passion in bizarre locations...

Though the names of the protagonists changed in each book, it was unmistakably referencing him and Yue Wuhuan.

Song Qingshi was thoroughly mortified. He had no idea the world saw him as such a beast...

The door creaked open as Yue Wuhuan entered, eyeing them with disapproval at the sight of the books on the table.

Song Qingshi wanted to burn them, but it was too late.

Near tears, he stammered, "Wu-Wu Huan, let me explain! I didn’t know anything about this, I’ve never done any of this—"

"I know about these," Yue Wuhuan said calmly, picking up one of the books and flipping through it. With a sigh, he explained, "People have an appetite for scandal. My reputation is... too notorious. It’s tarnished Master’s purity by association." Seeing Song Qingshi’s bewildered expression, he smiled bitterly. "My past is... inglorious. Everyone believes I won Master’s favor through my body, so they’ve fabricated endless stories of romance. But in truth, everyone knows it’s nonsense. Many famous figures and events in the immortal realm get written about like this. Master needn’t take it to heart."

He had burned many bookstore’s collections and dealt with many shopkeepers.

The immortal realm’s book trade wasn’t particularly lucrative, and the owners had no powerful backers—none dared offend a madman.

Now, in the towns near Medicine King Valley, no one dared openly sell those disgraceful illustrated books about him. But these fictionalized stories, using pseudonyms and borrowing shadows of real people or events while clearly labeled as works of fiction, were common. Minor authors wrote them, and most immortal bigwigs simply dismissed them lightly, never confusing them with reality or pursuing legal action. Some even found entertainment in them and bought copies for viewing.

Song Qingshi never read fiction, much less that genre.

So, he hadn’t paid these books any mind.

After listening to the explanation, Song Qingshi finally understood, but he still felt aggrieved.

He had never lusted after Yue Wuhuan’s body, nor had he ever done anything untoward. Having cultivated the Emotionless Path for years, he was celibate and restrained—whether it involved men or women, he had remained chaste, never so much as touching himself. Writing about him falling in love was one thing, but why depict him as a beast?

*"Their tongues intertwined, sweet as honey..."*

Was it really that sweet and delicious?

Song Qingshi glanced up at Yue Wuhuan’s rosy, tempting lips, and for some reason, the book’s descriptions and strange thoughts flashed through his mind. Horrified by his own depraved thoughts, he shuddered and shook his head violently, dispelling the images.

Such thoughts were strictly off-limits...

Yue Wuhuan gathered the pile of inappropriate books, intending to hand them over to Immortal Lord Yan Yuan for disposal. Then, after a moment’s thought, he sat down in front of Song Qingshi and said solemnly, "Master, the things in these books are exaggerated. People just fantasize that such acts between men are pleasurable, but in reality, it’s... extremely repulsive."

Song Qingshi felt like a child caught misbehaving. He sat stiffly, meekly accepting the reprimand.

"The bodies of men and women are different, not suited for this kind of thing," Yue Wuhuan explained with utmost seriousness, educating him clinically. "It's far more painful than you imagine, and your dignity gets stripped away piece by piece—it’s excruciating. There was once a slave..."

He used numerous medical terms and matter-of-fact descriptions, but his personal experience made his words all the more convincing. The scene he painted was horrifying, almost like something out of hell’s torment.

Song Qingshi listened, his whole body stiff with discomfort, his face pale.

He had thought it was merely a matter of tearing injuries, but it turned out to be far more terrifying and repulsive than he'd imagined.

"Don’t wonder about it, don’t ever try it," Yue Wuhuan said, pleased to see how frightened he was. He gently stroked the stray hairs on Song Qingshi’s head, pulling him into an embrace, his voice tender. "Just keep being the way you are now, Master. Don’t think about those things, don’t do them, alright? If you were hurt, it would tear me apart..."

There were too many filthy things in this world, impossible to guard against entirely. One slip, and they’d worm their way in.

What if it stirred the Master’s curiosity?

*How vile.*

***

Song Qingshi looked into Yue Wuhuan’s carefree, smiling eyes, and the unease in his heart grew clearer. Yue Wuhuan had suffered through such pain—his descriptions weren’t lies. Yet why did his expression seem contradictory as he tore open those bloody wounds? As if his emotions were suppressing many things, jumbled up, sorrow and joy flipped, showing only what he wanted others to see—without even realizing it himself...

Other strange things had happened too. For instance, the deer he’d recently rescued from a farmer’s home had traces of the poison used in the venom puppets. Later, he found remnants of the same deadly toxin clinging to grass in a secluded spot at the foot of the mountain. The poison puppets were brutal, made purely for murder—normally stored in the Mustard Seed Bag. Why would they be released? And then there were the scars on Yue Wuhuan’s wrists. As a renowned physician, how could Song Qingshi not recognize the difference between self-inflicted wounds and accidental scratches?

After noticing these anomalies, he had done his best to stay close to Yue Wuhuan, keeping him talking, trying to figure out what was going on.

Now, he faintly glimpsed the answer—Wu Huan’s psychological condition was deteriorating.

Song Qingshi stayed lost in thought for a long time...

Yue Wuhuan, noticing his distraction, smiled and asked, "Master, what’s wrong?"

Song Qingshi snapped back to attention and promised, "Alright. If Wu Huan dislikes something, I won’t think about it or do it."

Yue Wuhuan was immensely pleased. "You’re the best, Master."

Song Qingshi asked softly, "What does Wu Huan want me to do?"

Yue Wuhuan replied, "I want to raise Xiao Bai with you, conduct experiments together, study together, watch the clouds together."

Song Qingshi nodded. "Alright."

That night, unable to find an excuse to stay in Yue Wuhuan’s bed, he returned to his own room. After much contemplation, he took a deep breath, then glanced at the Bloodvine creeping toward him. He picked it up and wrapped it around his own ankle.