Chapter 68

Rong Ye had hidden in his room for a day and a night, his eyes red and swollen, no more tears left to cry. He lay dazed on the bed, his mind blank, feeling as though his life had ended and only darkness lay ahead.

This was the just deserts of his foolishness…

Both Ming Hong and He Qingyun had knocked on his door, but he was too ashamed to face his friends, so he didn't answer. Helpless, they left his favorite pastries by the door and waited outside, fearing he might do something foolish. Rong Ye quietly crept to the window and, through a crack, saw their figures. His heart ached anew. A wretch like him didn't deserve such good friends.

He was a sparrow masquerading as a phoenix, terrified of revealing his past.

He had claimed his mother was a gentle and virtuous lady, his father a learned scholar, that everyone adored him, and that he had grown up pampered in a life of luxury.

He had repeated this lie so many times, he almost believed it himself.

But falsehoods remained falsehoods—this was merely the perfect life he'd fantasized about while trapped in the filthy brothel.

He could no longer deceive himself…

Rong Ye opened the door and stood before his two friends, head bowed, sobbing as he confessed everything: his true origins, his mother’s real identity, his jealousy toward Ming Hong, his teasing of He Qingyun, and the foolish thing he had done to the Master and the punishment he received… Finally, he wept, "I brought this upon myself. You don't need to pity me. My mother was right; someone like me is born with a rotten fate."

The once cheerful and talkative youth now stood trembling in the shadows, shaking with fear.

"Brother, at least you have a mother," Ming Hong scolded, slapping him hard on the shoulder. "I was a beggar from childhood. What's a mother? I've never even seen one. I fought dogs for food, starved and froze, and would be happy for half a day if I found a moldy bun. If your life—well-fed, clothed, and loved by your mother—is considered rotten, then what am I? Are you looking down on my life?"

"Exactly," He Qingyun said with a warm smile. "A-Ye might tease people with his words, but he's very kind at heart. You're always the first to notice when someone's upset and try to cheer them up. We like A-Ye not because of your background, but because when you're around, the atmosphere becomes so joyful…"

Ming Hong lamented with deep regret, "Tiangong Pavilion got a great deal from us."

He Qingyun offered a handkerchief, urging, "Don't cry. A-Ye's eyes are beautiful, and even more so when he smiles."

Rong Ye took the handkerchief, but for some reason, he cried even harder.

Light footsteps approached from behind.

Ming Hong, quick to discern the newcomer, turned and called out, "Sister Qing Luan."

Qing Luan approached with a small wooden box in her hands, a gentle smile on her face, and said to Rong Ye, "Your life isn't rotten."

Rong Ye froze.

"Women often say the opposite of what they mean. Don't listen to what your mother said—look at what she did." Qing Luan gently ruffled Rong Ye’s hair. "You should think carefully. Why did she call you 'rotten fate' all your life? Why was she willing to part with you forever just to send you to the immortal cultivation world? Did she make you build your foundation and become a cultivator, to make something of yourself? Did she ask you to return to her, to bring glory to your ancestors?"

Rong Ye whispered, "I don't know my birth father; I have no ancestors…"

Qing Luan pressed, "Why was she willing to die alone rather than have you return to her side? To that filthy place?"

Rong Ye murmured, "B-because I was bad luck… She didn't want to give birth to me…"

The stubborn idea in his mind faded, and things he had never understood suddenly became clear. He remembered falling ill once, in a feverish haze, his mother sitting by his bed, weeping as she cared for him. She had said she regretted having this child, but she couldn't bear…

Couldn't bear what?

Yue Wuhuan’s illusion had shown him how terrifying it was to service men.

His mother knew this, but she had no power to save her son from such a horrific fate. She watched helplessly as her son grew older, day by day drawing closer to hell, with no escape. She was in agony and despair, yet she had to accept her lot.

Xie Que, despite his flaws, represented a new opportunity.

For those already in hell, what was there to fear from falling into another? How much worse could fate get?

She had gambled like the most desperate player, risking everything for a slim chance at survival.

And his mother had won…

Qing Luan handed the wooden box to Rong Ye. "Your fates have long since changed."

After arriving in the cultivation world, Ming Hong was no longer a beggar, He Qingyun no longer a farmer, and Rong Ye was no longer a courtesan.

After escaping the Yanshan Sect, they had also shed the fate of slaves and could live for themselves.

Rong Ye opened the box. Inside were two smooth, warm small medicine bottles. He poured out the pills and powder, recognizing them as the highest-grade Qi Induction Pills and Meridian-Widening Powder. The Qi Induction Pills even carried the aura of water and earth—custom-made for his constitution, designed to remove impurities from his meridians and aid his foundation-building.

Qing Luan smiled. "A farewell gift from the Master, so you can study hard and cultivate well."

Rong Ye couldn't help but cry again. What foolish things had he done?

He Qingyun and Ming Hong quickly comforted him, showering him with kind words, but the thought of parting soon also made them sad.

"Don't be sad. Focus on your cultivation," Qing Luan encouraged. "Elder Liao is stationed in Lecheng, and Medicine King Valley often sends people there for supplies. You can write to each other. Once you've built your foundation, I'll send you to Lecheng for tasks. Meeting won't be difficult."

Ming Hong brightened. "A-Ye, I'll reach Foundation Establishment in two years! Wait for me!"

Rong Ye chuckled through his tears. "Are you bragging about your talent?"

He Qingyun, whose aptitude was the lowest, scratched his head anxiously, repeatedly vowing to cultivate harder.

The three of them burst into laughter, dispelling the sorrow of parting.

All good things must come to an end…

…

Rong Ye arrived at Tiangong Pavilion’s workshop, luggage in tow. The shouts of "one-five-one-six" and the clanging of forging hammers filled the air, making him terrified. He timidly hid outside the door, taking a long time to mentally prepare himself before bravely stepping inside to face his new destiny.

Beyond the door lay a spacious training ground.

Two massive mechanical figures sparred while a crowd of men and women cheered loudly. A metal monkey did somersaults nearby, a porcelain rabbit hopped about, and two girls worked on a disc, causing a dancing fairy to appear and gracefully float.

Among the crowd stood a tall, heroic female cultivator. Her dusty robe was stained with oil and wood shavings, giving her a somewhat disheveled appearance. In her hand was an exquisitely carved wooden eagle. Amid the cheers, she released the eagle into the blue sky.

The eagle soared high, piercing the clouds, flying higher and higher.

Could such fascinating mechanical creations exist in this world? Were these the artisans of the cultivation world? Could he make things like this too?

Rong Ye couldn't tear his eyes away from the soaring eagle. His heart pounded…

The female cultivator saw him and waved heartily, smiling as she asked, "Kid! Do you like it?!"

He did. He liked it immensely…

Too excited for words, Rong Ye ran toward the female cultivator—toward his future.

Mother, I have found the best possible fate.

…

Song Qingshi fired up several alchemy furnaces, refining many pills suitable for low-level cultivators. Some were for his apprentices, others for Yue Wuhuan and himself. He also planned to make common medicines like Calming Pills, Tranquil Mind Pills, and Purification Pills when he had time, so he wouldn't be caught unprepared during future cultivation sessions.

Being well-prepared was a good habit.

After refining dozens of batches to his satisfaction, Song Qingshi felt a little tired. He decided to relax by inspecting the herb storage—a private little stress-reliever of his. Like a dragon guarding its gold and jewels, he took quiet satisfaction in counting his supplies after large-scale refining sessions, ensuring everything was well-preserved and plentiful. It filled him with a deep sense of contentment and security.

"There are seventy-two catties of Tianmingzi, three hundred and twenty-four catties of Yanyang flowers, Yanjiao fills three barrels, and only twenty-two catties of Yueming stones left… They've been used more frequently lately. Tell Wuhuan to restock." Song Qingshi carefully checked the inventory of each medicinal herb, finding minor discrepancies here and there, though none were significant.

He opened the drawer containing Tianxin Bamboo and suddenly froze.

The stock of Tianxin Bamboo was significantly depleted…

Song Qingshi felt a bit puzzled. Tianxin Bamboo had the effect of dispelling inner demons and calming the mind, but its side effect was inducing asceticism. Back then, ignorant of moral ethics, he had casually used a womanizing scoundrel for human trials. After consuming large doses of this herb, the man turned into a model of abstinence, reformed his ways, and was eventually taken in by a Buddhist master, becoming a monk devoted to good deeds.

The cultivation world was relatively liberal. Victims wouldn't make a fuss over such matters—female cultivators who encountered emotional fraudsters or were taken advantage of never made tearful scenes. Most simply unsheathed their blades and settled things decisively.

Yet this scoundrel was skilled in sweet talk, charming his way out of trouble, and somehow managed to escape unscathed.

Lost in reminiscence, Song Qingshi reflected on himself. He prided himself on being a man of unwavering devotion, never fickle in love. But while that scoundrel could charm several beauties into happiness, he couldn't even manage to woo or keep the affection of a single person he liked…

The academic prodigy felt a little aggrieved.

He quickly shook off the negative thoughts and began pondering where the Tianxin Bamboo had gone.

There weren't many medicines that required Tianxin Bamboo. Its spirit-stabilizing properties could be substituted by other herbs, and while its demon-dispelling properties were excellent, the terrifying side effects deterred most cultivators from using it. Occasionally, it was employed to reform philanderers, but it was rarely used in proper medicinal formulas.

Song Qingshi hadn't collected much Tianxin Bamboo to begin with, mainly for research purposes—to see if he could eliminate its side effects or develop other uses. So far, he hadn't succeeded.

Yet half of the Tianxin Bamboo in the drawer was missing.

Apprentices wouldn't use Tianxin Bamboo in their alchemy, which left only one possibility…

Song Qingshi suddenly recalled the faint medicinal scent he had detected on Yue Wuhuan.

Having not handled Tianxin Bamboo for centuries, he had forgotten its smell. Now that he smelled it again, upon closer thought, it seemed quite similar? Perhaps a blend of Tianxin Bamboo, mica stone, and Wuwu flowers? Combined, these ingredients formed a medicine that suppressed male desires.

But Yue Wuhuan wasn't a scoundrel—why would he secretly take such a drug?

Though it seemed he regulated the dosage, long-term use would harm his body and lead to unpredictable consequences.

Song Qingshi was baffled…

He wanted to rush over and question Yue Wuhuan, but upon second thought, Yue Wuhuan never answered things he deliberately hid. Song Qingshi could never win arguments against him—every time, he'd end up led in circles before inexplicably dropping the matter.

After some consideration, Song Qingshi decided to act first and take all the Tianxin Bamboo.

Tianxin Bamboo came from overseas and was rarely collected, making it scarce in the market. Once out of stock, it wouldn't be easy to replenish.

He wanted to see what Yue Wuhuan was secretly doing.