Chapter 040: Protective

Chapter 040: Protective

The news that Venerable Liushu had taken a disciple, and that it was a disciple with mixed spiritual roots, quickly spread through Liuyue Sect.

Everyone was shocked by this. Logically speaking, with Venerable Liushu's strength, any disciple she took on should have exceptional talent. Countless people had been rejected when they sought to become her personal disciple. Now, someone with mixed spiritual roots had taken the position of her senior disciple. Everyone was very curious about Yan Mi.

Master Qingfeng also arrived at the Seventh Peak. Seeing Pu Shu sipping tea leisurely, he asked perplexed, "Little junior sister, why did you take on such a disciple? One with mixed spiritual roots isn't even qualified to be an inner disciple; at most, he could only be a gatekeeper disciple."

In this world, the strong are revered. He wasn't trying to disparage those with mixed spiritual roots, but that was simply the truth. In some sects, they wouldn't even accept a disciple with mixed spiritual roots as a sweeper.

"Senior brother, have some tea." Pu Shu had found a way to resolve the poison, so she was somewhat more relaxed. She poured a cup of tea and slid it toward Master Qingfeng. Her expression remained cold and aloof as she said calmly, "Mixed spiritual roots are still spiritual roots. They still possess the talent for immortal cultivation. The very path we embarked on as cultivators is about defying fate. Everyone says that those with mixed spiritual roots are no different from ordinary people, but I don't believe that."

"He has mixed spiritual roots, and he caught my attention. I want to teach him, to see how far he can go." Pu Shu took a sip of her tea, then set the cup down softly.

"..." Master Qingfeng frowned slightly. He didn't know whether to be happy that his little junior sister had spoken so much to him for the first time, or annoyed that she was explaining herself for the sake of that boy.

"Little junior sister, you're being too willful." Master Qingfeng said helplessly, "Since you've taken him as your disciple, there is a karmic bond. If, in the future, he has no skill and relies on your reputation to cause trouble, in the end, you will be the one who suffers."

He had no ill will towards the disciple, but he didn't like the idea of Pu Shu diverting her attention to someone else. Originally, he had thought that after his little junior sister took on a talented disciple, he would have his own senior disciple guide them, allowing him to have more contact with her.

But now, listening to her, it seemed she intended to keep the disciple by her side to teach him personally. With poor talent and starting late, he wouldn't be able to cultivate like other disciples.

After all, the worse a disciple performed, the more attention they would receive from their master. A talented disciple could grasp things after being taught once, and they were almost raised in a hands-off manner.

Pu Shu was very calm. "It's fine. Since I've accepted him as my disciple, I will naturally take responsibility to the end. I will fulfill my duty as his master. How far he goes in the future will be up to him."

Master Qingfeng was about to say something else when he was interrupted by a cry of "Master!" He turned his head and saw a thin young boy walking out of a neighboring bamboo house. The boy's gaze was burning, his features as delicate as if painted by a brush, with a hint of yet-unfurled enchantment. But now, he was thin and dark, like a scrawny monkey, wearing clothes that didn't quite fit.

Yet, for some reason, Master Qingfeng had a strong intuition that this disciple of his little junior sister had unclean eyes.

It gave him the feeling... of like repelling like.

·

After the Medicine Immortal arrived and prescribed medicine, Yan Mi took the medicine and applied the ointment. He slept until the birds sang at dawn the next day.

The medicine from the immortal mountain was effective. After just one night of medicinal effect, it removed his scars, and he was as lively as if he had never been injured.

He was still thin, though, and needed proper nourishment. Staying on the immortal mountain, recovering would be simple.

Yan Mi was very happy. He lay in bed, laughing to himself for a long time, thinking about seeing his master, before he finally got up. He put on a new set of clothes left in the room. They fit him well, a blue and white ensemble that made him look quite ethereal. He looked like a real person now.

He slept in a bamboo house. The space was spacious and elegantly arranged. Vines climbed up the window, and a few small flowers bloomed in many colors, vibrant and lively.

Yan Mi pushed open the door. As far as his eyes could see, he saw distant green mountains piercing the clouds, white mist swirling, and snow covering the mountains. Dew condensed into ice, yet flowers bloomed on the ground. The scenery was beautiful. He had never seen anything like it. The immortal mountain had four seasons and day and night, but as long as one was powerful enough, the scenery could remain unchanged. If one wanted to change it, a casual wave of the hand would suffice.

He looked for a while. This would be his home from now on, his territory. Yan Mi had a strong sense of territory. Whenever he entered a place and considered it his home, he would fiercely guard it, allowing no one else to set foot on it, and would find ways to mark it as his own.

Following the path from the bamboo house, Yan Mi saw an elegant figure in the distance. He knew it was his master. His eyes lit up. He was about to run over when another person arrived. The man had an immortal air, looked very powerful, and was dressed in splendid robes. He seemed very familiar with his master.

Yan Mi restrained his expression, his face devoid of any smile. He hid himself, listening to their conversation. When he heard the man subtly implying that his master should abandon him and not take him as a disciple, Yan Mi was furious. He almost ground his teeth to dust, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes. Damn meddler!

At the same time, panic surged within him. He was afraid to hear that his master had been swayed, that she would send him down the mountain and no longer accept him as a disciple.

But as he listened to his master's next words, Yan Mi breathed a sigh of relief. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His master hadn't wavered. She hadn't abandoned him. Seeing that the damn man wanted to continue sowing discord, Yan Mi stepped out, interrupting Master Qingfeng's words. That mouth of his, it only spewed filthy words! Once he became stronger than this damn man, the first thing he would do is find a needle and stitch that mouth shut, stitch by stitch!

"Yan'er, come here." Pu Shu turned around and beckoned. She didn't know what was in Yan Mi's heart. He wouldn't show it on his face, but inside, he was plotting darkly.

Yan Mi was very good at playing the obedient disciple. He trotted over to Pu Shu, smiling innocently, his voice filled with respect and dependence, "Master!"

Then he looked timidly at Master Qingfeng. The latter frowned at him. Yan Mi shrank back, stammering a greeting of "Uncle-Master," then fearfully hid behind Pu Shu.

"Senior Brother, Yan'er is timid. Don't frighten him." Pu Shu, of course, protected Yan Mi. He was her disciple, after all. Besides, Yan Mi was just a pitiful child. Master Qingfeng was an elder; why should he quibble with a child? It would be beneath his dignity.

"Little junior sister, he's not scared. I think he's quite sharp. You be careful. Don't let him deceive you." Master Qingfeng felt a pang in his heart. His little junior sister was already taking someone else's side. This caused the usually upright and steady Master Qingfeng to speak with agitation, even with a hint of sharpness.

"I haven't done anything wrong. Why are you slandering me? Is it because I have mixed spiritual roots?" Yan Mi refused to accept it. He clenched his fists and mustered the courage to retort. His face turned pale, like a little cub about to be abandoned, tense and wronged. His voice choked, "Master, I haven't lied to you."

Perhaps he was too upset. He lowered his head, sobbing and wiping away tears. The tears came on command, but he didn't dare to cry out loud. He was the epitome of a weak, helpless, pitiful child, begging for pity.

Master Qingfeng had repeatedly spoken this way about her disciple. Even Pu Shu's cold nature was displeased. Her face immediately turned frosty. "Senior Brother, if you've come to congratulate me on finding a disciple, you are most welcome. If you've come specifically to say these things, then please leave. I know what I am doing."

"..." Master Qingfeng's brow twitched. He still believed the child was putting on an act to win his little junior sister's sympathy. His little junior sister was perfect in every way except that she was too naive and inexperienced about people, making her the easiest to deceive.

But he had already made her angry. If he continued, their bond as fellow disciples would be damaged. Master Qingfeng smiled. He was skilled at turning things around. "Little junior sister, you really do care for this new disciple. Alright, alright, it's all this senior brother's fault. I shouldn't meddle too much. But since our master passed away, bidding me to take good care of you, I've grown accustomed to it over the years. So now, I subconsciously still treat you as a child, always afraid you'll be deceived or bullied. This senior brother hasn't adjusted yet."

He brought up their master, and Pu Shu's expression softened. She poured another cup of tea, her tone gentler, no longer so cold. "I am also at fault. Senior Brother, you are only concerned for me."

"Let's not talk about this between us, fellow disciples." Master Qingfeng smiled. His hand wiped across the air, and a pile of treasures appeared on the table. "This is a welcoming gift to celebrate junior sister taking on a disciple."

"Yan'er, come and thank your uncle-master." Pu Shu used this as a step down. Her senior brother was the only close person she had left, so naturally, she didn't want to become estranged.

Yan Mi was livid inside. That damn man's mouth definitely needed to be sewn shut. He thought darkly about how to do it, but on the surface, he maintained a look of surprised gratitude and respect. Awkward and not knowing the proper etiquette, he clumsily bowed to Master Qingfeng. "Thank you, uncle-master."

"No need to thank me. You are junior sister's disciple, so you are no different from my own disciples. Cultivate well in the future. If there is anything you don't understand, you can ask me anytime, or consult your senior fellow apprentices." Master Qingfeng reached out, pretending to support Yan Mi's hand to help him rise, but in fact, he took the opportunity to secretly examine him. It was indeed mixed spiritual roots, no other abnormalities. But that shouldn't be the case...

Master Qingfeng understood his little junior sister. He thought that taking on a disciple would hinder her cultivation, and even though he had said she could now take disciples, as long as she was firm in her refusal, even he couldn't force her. Yet, out of nowhere, she had taken on a disciple with mixed spiritual roots.

He didn't believe his little junior sister's explanation. There had to be another reason. Could it be related to the love poison? His little junior sister was most concerned about that now. Any anomaly would undoubtedly be linked to the love poison. It seemed he needed to find another opportunity to probe. Now was not convenient, with his little junior sister present. The time was too short; she would discover him.

Master Qingfeng's main purpose in coming this time was to probe the disciple's abilities, to see if his little junior sister had sensed anything. Now, it seemed she hadn't yet.

What was this damn man checking? Yan Mi had always had strong perception. When Master Qingfeng examined him, he felt something but didn't understand how it was done.

But Master Qingfeng had already withdrawn his hand. Yan Mi only thought about it in his mind, keeping his head down and obediently listening to the instruction. "Yes, uncle-master, rest assured. I will cultivate well."

"Little junior sister, I'll be heading back now." Master Qingfeng didn't want to linger and risk arousing his little junior sister's suspicion.

"Senior Brother, take care." Pu Shu nodded slightly.

After Master Qingfeng left, Pu Shu looked at Yan Mi. He was her disciple, after all, so she would still ask with concern, "Is your body fully recovered?"

"Master, I'm almost completely healed." Yan Mi nodded nervously.

Pu Shu didn't ask how he got injured. She only said, "Are your worldly matters all settled?"

"En!" Yan Mi nodded emphatically. "From now on, I will cultivate on the immortal mountain with Master."

"Master, I will cultivate well. I won't let you be laughed at." He said this very firmly.

"It's fine. Let it be. Don't become obsessed with the malicious gossip of others and develop inner demons." Pu Shu didn't want his obsession to be too strong, which would be detrimental to cultivation.

But seeing the confusion on Yan Mi's face, she remembered that this disciple hadn't learned much and would need to be taught slowly. "You'll understand in the future. There's no need to think too much about it now."

"I understand, Master." Yan Mi's main tactic in front of Pu Shu was to be obedient. If she liked obedient disciples, then obedient he would be.

But he was hungry. His stomach growled loudly. Seeing Pu Shu's slightly surprised expression, Yan Mi scratched the back of his head, looking very embarrassed. "Master, it's my stomach that's hungry, not me."

"That's normal. You haven't reached the stage of fasting yet. You still need to eat food." But Pu Shu was at a loss. She didn't know how to cook. She hadn't done these things in two hundred years.

Yan Mi picked up on this and looked around, deciding to fend for himself. "Master, can I use the ingredients on the mountain to cook?"

"Yes."

As long as he didn’t directly consume elixirs, eating spiritually infused food was fine.

"Master, I’ll be right back!" Yan Mi grinned and ran off.

Soon, he returned with a handful of wild mushrooms and some edible greens. "Master, is there a kitchen?"

Pu Shu: "..."

There really wasn’t one—she never ate such things. Just some pills or the morning dew sufficed for her.

She realized her peak was seriously lacking in provisions for raising a disciple. She’d prepared nothing at all.

"Wait here for a moment. Do you know how to read?" Pu Shu stood up and asked.

"A little," Yan Mi nodded. He was clever and quick on his feet, moving with a light step that went unnoticed. He used to sneak into the private school to listen to the old tutor’s lectures.

He learned these things mainly to avoid being deceived. Even his name was something he came up with himself. Before he could read, he had no name. The old beggars simply called him "mongrel." Of course, those people later died miserably at his hands. He didn’t have a soft bone in his body.

"In that case, read these books before I return." With a wave of her hand, two books appeared on the table. They were simple texts on cultivation matters.

She could have directly transferred them into Yan Mi’s mind, but he would need to start cultivating and know how to use his divine sense first. For now, reading was the way to go, and it also helped cultivate his mindset.

"Understood, Master." Yan Mi nodded.

He watched Pu Shu leave on her ice lotus, then touched the two books, picking them up and opening them. There were annotations written in her hand, beautiful, and carried a faint, soft scent from her.

Half an hour later, Pu Shu returned, followed by several immortals. Two with wood-element spiritual roots quickly built him a kitchen and left some firewood. Another opened a storage pouch, releasing some spirit beasts specially raised for food—none of them had developed sentience, and if any were blessed by heaven to gain sentience, they wouldn’t be eaten.

Once everything was done, Pu Shu gave each one a pill. They said in unison, "Thank you, Seventh Elder," before riding away on clouds.

Pu Shu didn’t put the chickens, ducks, or fish in cages but let them roam freely, saving them for later use. She snapped her fingers, and ice encased a spirit chicken. When the ice shattered, the chicken was plucked, cleaned, and perfectly prepared, and it landed in the kitchen.

"Master, you rest. I’ll cook." Yan Mi wouldn’t let his master enter the kitchen. Although he’d love to taste food made by her own hands, it was better for him to cook for her!

"Alright." Pu Shu didn’t force herself; she truly didn’t know how to cook. But there was no fire, so she tossed a flame talisman into the hearth, and it ignited easily—this fire couldn’t melt the ice she controlled.

Yan Mi was skilled. After half an hour, he presented a steaming bowl of chicken and mushroom stew. Fresh off the stove, it was still bubbling and fragrant, incredibly fragrant.

"Master, would you like to try some?" Yan Mi looked at Pu Shu, his eyes anxious with hope, afraid of rejection.

Because of what lay ahead, Pu Shu felt a twinge of guilt. For Yan Mi’s harmless requests, she rarely refused. "Alright."

Hearing this, Yan Mi beamed with joy. He ladled a bowl and placed it before Pu Shu. When she praised the taste, he was so thrilled he could eat three bowls until his stomach nearly burst.

Immortals didn’t get indigestion, and Pu Shu only knew about cultivation. She didn’t know a lot of common-sense things mortal people knew. Even at two hundred years old, in that respect, she was like a teenager or someone in her twenties—after all, the higher the cultivation, the longer the lifespan. Compared to those seven or eight hundred or even a thousand years old, she was still very young.

Cultivation wasn’t urgent. Pu Shu first cleansed Yan Mi’s meridians and adjusted his spiritual root condition before beginning his training. She started with reading, practice, and breathing exercises, to make sure he built a solid foundation before moving on.

She might not have been the best teacher, but she was meticulous and patient, emphasizing gradual progress without rushing.

"Master, look! I caught one!" After half a month of training, Yan Mi managed to fly up onto a branch and catch a bird. After many failed attempts, he finally succeeded.

"Not bad. Good job." Pu Shu was sitting cross-legged on a nearby rock, meditating. She nodded slightly.

Yan Mi grinned happily. His eyes flickered, and he deliberately lost his footing and fell. His hand loosened, and the bird fluttered away.

The tree grew on a cliff’s edge; falling would send him into a bottomless abyss. With Yan Mi’s meager level of qi refinement, he would surely be crushed to nothing, not even ashes remaining.

"Master!"

"Yan’er!"

Pu Shu vanished from where she sat, catching Yan Mi in her arms and spinning back to solid ground.

"Master, I’m sorry. I’m so useless, I can’t even do a simple thing. Please punish me." Yan Mi hung his head, looking dejected and full of self-blame, but he was secretly pleased.

"It’s fine. You did well." Pu Shu figured this was just how kids are. Hesitating, she reached out and gave Yan Mi a gentle pat on the head to comfort him.

After half a month of care, Yan Mi had grown taller, now reaching Pu Shu’s chest. His face had filled out a bit, his skin had grown paler, and he was becoming increasingly handsome.

Yan Mi looked up, half-closing his eyes as he enjoyed rubbing against her palm. His beautiful phoenix-like eyes gleamed with adoration. "Master, you’re so good."

"Next lesson: continue practicing breathing techniques."

Pu Shu’s expression softened. She withdrew her hand, her robe brushed past Yan Mi, leaving behind a faint cool fragrance—like frozen plum blossoms slowly melting, releasing an intoxicatingly alluring scent.

Yan Mi grinned and happily followed behind Pu Shu, his gaze burning on her back.

The difference between immortals and mortals: for immortals, one or two hundred years was still young, especially for someone only eight or nine, no different from a child. But for mortals, boys and girls over seven were separated, and by eight or nine, with proper guidance, they knew much.

As a child, Yan Mi had no sense of time. Born in a brothel, he didn’t know his mother or father. He lived there until age three, then started working as soon as he could walk. He witnessed many filthy things. Those who spent more money got more beds; those with less money got a small room with the least attractive prostitutes—men and women, old and young, everything had a price. Reality was that disgusting, with hardly any beauty.

When he was five, the brothel caught fire. He escaped in the chaos—he had set it himself.

The madam was about to sell him to a lecherous old man in his fifties who liked playing with young boys, and there were several old men in the group. He overheard the plan, schemed for days, and when they came to play one day, he was hiding in a corner. He drugged their wine—such places were never short of dirty drugs, and as a child, it was easy to steal them.

That was his first kill—three men at once. He felt no fear, just an exhilarating thrill.

Yan Mi had no household registration, no identity. He couldn’t live in the city, so he wandered outside, becoming a beggar. But he didn’t mind.

His master thought he was clueless, but he understood everything. Still, he wouldn’t let his pure and spotless master know of such sordid things—it would dirty her ears.

The two sat facing each other, meditating. Pu Shu tapped Yan Mi’s head with the book without opening her eyes, knowing he wasn’t focused. "Cultivate seriously. Don’t get distracted. Concentrate and enter the mind realm."

Yan Mi peeked one eye open, speaking in an innocent tone. "But Master, in my mind realm, I have to have you there too. A world without you isn’t a world—it’s a hell filled with the dead."

"Talking nonsense again." Pu Shu opened her eyes and shook her head helplessly.

"Master, I’m not talking nonsense. I mean it." Yan Mi swore it was true.

Pu Shu’s expression turned stern. "Oh?"

"Master, I’ll meditate right now." Yan Mi closed his eyes but smirked.

He didn’t see Pu Shu’s faint smile, which quickly faded as she resumed meditation.

That night.

Yan Mi knocked on Pu Shu’s door again, crying.

The door opened. Pu Shu sat at a low table, reading notes. She looked up at Yan Mi’s teary eyes. "Another nightmare?"

"Master, whenever I think of being abandoned, I have nightmares and a headache." Yan Mi knelt beside Pu Shu, dressed in light robes, his hair down. Despite his young age, his face already bore a hint of captivating charm.

Pu Shu’s heart softened. This was a wound that needed time to heal. "Until your headache stops, you can sleep here."

Her bed was made from thousand-year-old spiritual wood, which had the effect of calming the mind and soothing the heart.

"Thank you, Master." Yan Mi wiped his eyes and nodded, "Am I bothering you, Master?"

Pu Shu's hand swept over the scroll, and new content appeared. "It's fine, go to sleep now."

As she waved her sleeve, several lamps in the room went out, leaving only the one on the desk lit.

"Mm," Yan Mi lay down on the bed, hugging the blanket, his heart filled with contentment, and a sly, triumphant smile spread across his face.

He would get those "nightmare headaches" every few days, and as time went on, they became more frequent. With a master like hers, he just had to cling to her; after a while, she would surely give in.

See, now he had succeeded.