Chapter 69

Late at night, Yue Wuhuan sat in the Zixuan Hall, reviewing documents from the Night Rain Pavilion. The more he read, the more intrigued he became, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Over the years, Medicine King’s Valley had become a valued client of the Night Rain Pavilion, frequently purchasing large amounts of intelligence. Yue Wuhuan excelled at discerning hidden clues from seemingly insignificant information, which brought him substantial gains. The Night Rain Pavilion, recognizing his precise judgment, prioritized his requests—whether for data collection or intelligence gathering—after several profitable collaborations. They even included bonus details about interesting happenings in the cultivation world.

If the information was too fragmented, Qing Luan would first sort and categorize it before submission.

This batch of reports from the Night Rain Pavilion contained extensive news regarding the Emotionless Path.

Qing Luan found it odd. After much contemplation, she realized Yue Wuhuan was far from needing to consider his Dao Heart, nor was his personality one to care about others’ paths. If he intended to kill a Nascent Soul Cultivator of the Emotionless Path, he would have gathered targeted personal intelligence in advance. Yet, this extensive report lacked a specific target, making it seem less like preparation for an assassination and more like… concern.

The only Nascent Soul Cultivator Yue Wuhuan would ever care about was the Master.

Could it be that the Master cultivated the Emotionless Path?

The thought startled Qing Luan. Recalling Song Qingshi’s personality, she dismissed it as overthinking. Hesitantly, she asked, "Brother Wu Huan… this isn’t the Master’s Dao Heart, is it? It doesn’t seem like him. The Master has such a kind nature and treats everyone so well."

Yue Wuhuan glanced at her and smiled. "It is his Dao Heart."

Qing Luan felt as if she’d been struck dumb. Even with her limited knowledge of cultivation, she understood that the Emotionless Path forbade emotional attachments. The Master clearly adored Yue Wuhuan—their bond was strong. If his Dao Heart truly was the Emotionless Path… what did that mean? Was there any way to salvage this?

She studied Yue Wuhuan’s relaxed demeanor and forced a smile. "Brother Wu Huan, have you found a solution?"

"No. These are documented accounts of how Emotionless Path cultivators throughout history have handled emotions," Yue Wuhuan picked up the documents and read aloud. "Three thousand two hundred years ago, Master He Nian killed his wife to prove his Dao, shocking the world because they were once an immortal couple. Eighteen hundred years ago, Madame Yue slaughtered her husband and son to break through to the Soul Formation realm, sparking endless controversy. Fourteen hundred years ago, Sword Cultivator Xue Feng attempted to kill his wife to prove his Dao, but she escaped and fought back—both perished in Guiling Lake…"

One by one, Yue Wuhuan recounted the deeds and fates of these Emotionless Path cultivators.

The path of cultivation was paved with brutal struggles; love was often the first sacrifice.

The cultivation world widely believed that transcending heavenly tribulations and ascending to immortality required severing worldly ties. Thus, the Emotionless Path was considered easier to master than other Dao Hearts. Despite the agony of cutting emotional bonds, many self-proclaimed prodigies still attempted it.

According to the Night Rain Pavilion’s records, 40% of Emotionless Path cultivators never developed attachments. The remaining 60% either had lovers before cultivation or met their beloved afterward—all of whom chose to kill their partners to prove their Dao. Among them, 20% failed and were instead slain by their lovers or their lovers’ sects.

Not a single one had a happy ending.

Qing Luan had long observed Yue Wuhuan’s intense devotion, and she could also sense Song Qingshi’s unique affection for him. She had assumed their relationship had some psychological hurdles that would resolve naturally with time. But now, knowing the Master cultivated the Emotionless Path and seeing the fates of those who loved such cultivators, she could hardly imagine how this would end.

Song Qingshi had taught Yue Wuhuan both his techniques and his poisons.

Song Qingshi’s constitution made him immune to all toxins, and he knew the weaknesses of poisoned puppets. His Netherfire could suppress the Blood King Vine…

If he wanted to kill Yue Wuhuan, it would be effortless.

The more Qing Luan thought about it, the more anxious she became. "Brother Wu Huan, if the Master decides to kill you… what will you do?"

"Ha, if he kills me, it means he’s developed feelings. Would he use a scalpel to carve out my heart? Melt me completely with poison? Or reduce me to ashes with Netherfire?" Yue Wuhuan pondered these thrilling scenarios, his entire body trembling with excitement. "That would be the liberation I’ve dreamed of—the ultimate bliss…"

To possess love and death at once—to be freed from the sea of desire, never to suffer again.

He could even use his life to help the one he loved prove his Dao, strengthening his resolve.

What greater joy could there be?

Qing Luan stared at his ecstatic expression in disbelief, stumbling backward before fleeing the Zixuan Hall in horror.

"Madmen… you’re both madmen!"

…

Yue Wuhuan had an eidetic memory. After finishing the documents, he burned them. Qing Luan had long been trained never to speak of forbidden matters. Song Qingshi, absorbed in research and uninterested in trivial affairs, had recently become obsessed with alchemy, churning out low-grade pills in such a frenzy that he barely had time to notice anything else.

Lately, he had been sharing a bed with the Master every night.

After discovering that Yue Wuhuan didn’t resist being hugged in his sleep, Song Qingshi had grown even clingier, calling him a "living furnace." Every evening, Yue Wuhuan took suppressive drugs to control his desires and avoid embarrassment. He knew this couldn’t continue—he should refuse. But every morning, when the drowsy Master nestled into his arms and gave him a morning kiss, as sweet as newlyweds, his mind would go blank, and he’d forget all objections.

The suppressants were being consumed faster, his body growing accustomed to them, requiring higher doses.

The side effects of Tianxin Bamboo would accumulate over time, eventually causing severe harm.

Yue Wuhuan had no choice—nor did he care about the consequences. He returned to the herb repository to retrieve more Tianxin Bamboo and adjust his formula, only to find the drawer empty. Knowing how rare this ingredient was, he grew anxious and hurried back to Fuling Palace.

Song Qingshi had already washed up and was lying obediently in bed, reading as he waited for Yue Wuhuan to join him.

Yue Wuhuan smiled. "Master, I noticed some less frequently used herbs are missing from the storeroom."

Song Qingshi looked up. "I recently concocted a batch of Qi Induction Pills, Meridian Expansion Powder, Spirit Gathering Pills, and Spirit Stabilizing Pills for you… Oh, and I also finished the Forgetful Dust Pills for Elder Cui of the Mo Shan Sect. I’ve been procrastinating on those forever—send them to him tomorrow."

One of the main ingredients of Forgetful Dust Pills was Tianxin Bamboo.

Elder Cui had a volatile temper and a proclivity for slaughter. Fearing a heart demon tribulation during his breakthrough to Soul Formation, he had sought Forgetful Dust Pills as a precaution. These pills were the best at suppressing heart demonic desires. If Elder Cui failed his tribulation, he would perish; if he succeeded, a Soul Formation Cultivator could easily resolve the side effects.

Song Qingshi enjoyed research and occasionally sold his creations, but he rarely accepted custom orders. Only when offered exorbitant sums or rare herbs—mediated by the Night Rain Pavilion—would he consider concocting something special, and even then, it depended on his mood.

Now, all Night Rain Pavilion orders passed through Yue Wuhuan’s hands.

He didn’t recall seeing any request for Forgetful Dust Pills.

When questioned, Song Qingshi replied matter-of-factly, "I promised this two hundred years ago. He never followed through, so I forgot."

Elder Cui had been framed within his sect, losing his wife, child, and cultivation while being plagued by inner demons. Knowing he couldn’t fulfill the promised payment, he hadn’t dared to ask again. Song Qingshi, however, had remembered and originally planned to refine the pills once Elder Cui regained his Great Perfection of the Nascent Soul stage. Now, needing an excuse to use up the Tianxin Bamboo, he’d made them early. Out of guilt for using Elder Cui as a pretext, he’d even included two extra bottles of Spirit Gathering Pills.

In any case, the Tianxin Bamboo was gone! All of it!

Song Qingshi tentatively asked, "Do you need any herbs?"

"Nothing important," Yue Wuhuan couldn’t explain his need for Tianxin Bamboo and deflected. "I just noticed the drawer was empty and wondered. Since the Master used it… I’ll ask the Night Rain Pavilion to restock later."

Song Qingshi had been asleep for years, and many herbs in the storeroom had been replaced. He probably wouldn’t notice this minor irregularity.

The thought of the days ahead filled Yue Wuhuan with anguish…

Capitalizing on his hesitation, Song Qingshi pulled him into bed, giving him a habitual good-night kiss before nuzzling into the crook of his neck, inhaling the faint scent of medicine. Having spent nearly a millennium immersed in alchemy, Song Qingshi’s knowledge of drugs was without peer in the cultivation world.

From the missing Tianxin Bamboo, he could estimate the dosage Yue Wuhuan required and deduce the remaining pills.

If Yue Wuhuan took one daily, there couldn’t be many left.

Song Qingshi suspected Yue Wuhuan was battling strange inner demons, unwilling to disclose them and unaware of alternative suppression methods, hence resorting to this detrimental remedy. Demonic tribulations escalated gradually—they wouldn’t peak immediately. He decided to observe the situation and prescribe accordingly.

Happily, he snuggled deeper into Yue Wuhuan’s embrace…

If you loved something, you had to hold it tight—otherwise, it might slip away.

Yue Wuhuan’s entire body burned. The Emotion Lock could restrain his love and ambition but not his carnal instincts. With insufficient Tianxin Bamboo, the suppressant’s effects were weakening. The euphoria from the Emotionless Path reports relentlessly battered the chains in his heart. Just imagining the blissful scenario of being killed afterward made the beast inside him roar, urging him to abandon reason and indulge in madness.

No…

The Master would be hurt.

Gently lifting a strand of Song Qingshi’s hair, Yue Wuhuan pressed a kiss to it, suppressing the tremors of excitement. He repeated to himself that he must resist this perilous impulse. Yet as his body’s reactions intensified, his breathing grew ragged. Oblivious, Song Qingshi nestled trustingly into his arms, as he always did.

He had long noticed that Song Qingshi's skin felt incredibly smooth, like flawless warm jade. A water-aligned spiritual root (enhancing bodily sensitivity) made the body even softer and more sensitive, perfectly suited for intimacy—known to bring men great pleasure. Qing Shi had mentioned he cried easily when aroused, though he hadn't realized...

Yue Wuhuan bit down hard on the back of his hand, leaving deep bloody marks, trying to use pain to suppress the wild thoughts brought on by desire.

Disgusting. Filthy. Sacrilegious!

How could he harbor such vile thoughts about the person he loved?!

"What's wrong?" Song Qingshi caught the scent of blood and immediately woke up, sensing something amiss. Still half-asleep, he rolled over and clambered onto Yue Wuhuan, trying to locate the injury—only for his abdomen to brush against something hard. After a moment's thought and seeing Yue Wuhuan's embarrassed expression, he fully woke and quickly understood the situation.

They were both men—he understood perfectly.