Chapter 23: Finally Fulfilled, Answering the Secret Realm’s Invitation

Chapter 23: Finally Complete - Answering the Secret Realm's Invitation

The youth's direct, unguarded accommodation and tenderness instantly made Ling Xuance's ears flush red, and the feelings in his heart spilled over completely beyond his control.

He leaned down close to Lin Yu's ear, warm breath washing over the youth's earlobe, his voice low and lingering, gentle yet serious: "Alright. But A Yu, remember—if you're uncomfortable or in pain, say stop at any time, understand?"

This was the second time Ling Xuance had said these words to him—gentle and earnest, carrying the deepest care and restraint.

Lin Yu didn't fully understand, but nodded obediently, answering softly: "Mm, I know."

With that permission, Ling Xuance could no longer hold back the feelings flooding his heart. He dipped his head to the youth's slender, pale neck, nuzzling gently, trailing his lips slowly downward.

"Mm... Brother Che..."

Ling Xuance lifted his head, responding softly, "I'm here."

His call was answered, and the unease from the unfamiliar sensations faded. He clung tightly to the one who made him feel safe.

The rough cloth slipped away, revealing flawless, fair skin. Ling Xuance settled Lin Yu onto his lap, and Lin Yu's unguarded gaze met those clear, cold eyes.

A dark gleam flickered in his eyes. Warm breath swept across his skin, leaving faint marks in its wake, each trail stirring ripples of sensation.

Ling Xuance's free hand lifted, fingertips brushing the warm skin—not daring to overstep, only tracing softly.

"A Yu, does it hurt?"

Lin Yu's shoulders trembled. The unfamiliar feelings threatened to drown him—he'd never felt anything like this. His whole body went limp, a tingling heat spreading through every limb, throwing his heart into chaos and making his breathing short and ragged.

"It doesn't hurt... Brother Che..."

His voice was soft and clingy, carrying a youthful shyness and a quiet dependence.

Ling Xuance's chest tightened, the restraint in his eyes about to crack. One hand held Lin Yu steady while the other soothed him gently.

"I'm here."

Those two simple words—steady, solid—instantly calmed all the panic in Lin Yu's heart.

He leaned into his embrace, letting the other be gentle without reservation, dropping every last defense.

Lin Yu vaguely sensed his hesitation and obediently yielded to his movements—considerate and docile.

That utterly compliant, yielding demeanor made Ling Xuance's heart burn—soft and full of joy.

Years of suppressed feelings surged out all at once. At last, he had the upper hand, pouring every ounce of long-held restraint into this moment.

In the deep, still night, faint murmurs from the youth drifted through, mingled with soft, uneven breaths—gentle and lingering, melting into the heavy darkness, tender and warm.

The night wore on, and a pale, clear light began to spread across the ink-black sky. The faint sounds that had filled the night finally faded, leaving the room in peaceful stillness.

Inside the warm bed curtains, Lin Yu's body was limp and aching, his eyelids too heavy to open. He lay curled in Ling Xuance's arms, damp strands of hair stuck to his flushed cheeks, his breathing light and even—already fast asleep, his expression peaceful and content.

Ling Xuance held the warm, soft body in his arms, gently combing through his tangled hair with his fingertips, his eyes full of a tenderness too deep to fade.

Warm sunlight filtered through the bamboo window slats, spilling across the bedding—the night's heat gone, leaving only a room of quiet serenity.

The long lashes of the one in his arms fluttered slightly, like butterfly wings just waking. After a long moment, he slowly opened his heavy eyelids.

Ling Xuance had been awake for a long time, but couldn't bear to disturb his sleep, so he held him quietly, fingertips tracing his back over and over.

Sensing the other stirring, he lowered his head, pressing his warm forehead to the youth's, holding him steady in his arms: "Awake?"

Lin Yu hummed a soft "Mm," his voice lazy with the drowsiness of just waking. He instinctively burrowed deeper into his arms, savoring the warm, safe embrace.

Ling Xuance's fingertips traced his soft waist, movements so light as if afraid of hurting him, his voice low and gentle: "Does your body hurt? Last night... is anything still sore?"

That one question instantly yanked Lin Yu's thoughts back to the tender intimacy of the night before.

The delicate sensations, the gentle embraces, the unfamiliar, scorching feelings—all came flooding back. The youth's fair cheeks flushed crimson, the color spreading down his neck and to the tips of his ears.

Thinking back, it had started with a faint, raw ache that made his whole body tense, but later it turned into nothing but gentle warmth and quiet tenderness—so comfortable he wanted to sink into it and never let go.

He tried to speak his feelings in a small voice, but when his lips parted, what came out was thick with hoarseness.

Hearing his own raspy voice, Lin Yu's cheeks burned even hotter, and he buried his face deeper into his chest.

Ling Xuance's heart softened. He reached for the Spiritual Marrow Dew—rich in pure, gentle spiritual energy, perfect for soothing the throat and nourishing the qi.

He leaned down, feeding it to the youth's lips with patient care, his movements impossibly gentle, tending to the one in his arms with the utmost tenderness.

Lin Yu swallowed the spiritual marrow slowly, his long lashes trembling. The shyness in his chest gradually faded, leaving behind a deep sense of peace.

He lifted his head a little, gazing at the one who was so gentle with him, and murmured: "It doesn't hurt anymore... It hurt a little at first, but later—later it felt really good."

Those honest, innocent words, spoken with shyness and sincerity, struck Ling Xuance's heart, making it burn and go soft.

Ling Xuance tightened his arms, pulling him close. He pressed a soft kiss to his hair, his voice tender and full of care: "My fault. Next time, I'll be even gentler."

The two held each other in quiet warmth, untroubled by the world, unconcerned about what lay ahead in the secret realm. In this little bamboo cottage, they held onto this moment of tenderness and wholeness, resting peacefully in each other's arms.

Morning mist drifted over the bamboo sea of Xuan Yue Peak. A crisp breeze carried the spiritual energy of the plants, spreading across the quiet mountain summit.

Jin Ling arrived at the bamboo courtyard carrying a pouch of freshly made candied hawthorns, and spotted Lin Yu tending the spirit fields and herbs at a glance.

"Little Martial Uncle!"

"The secret realm is about to open. I'm heading in with a team for training soon, so I'll be away from the sect for a while. I came to say goodbye."

Lin Yu paused at her words, his long lashes blinking once.

"Mm, safe travels, Senior Sister. Take care in the secret realm."

Ling Xuance had promised the Sect Master he'd protect them, but he wouldn't be leading this expedition. Other elders would lead the team while he stayed hidden in the shadows, guarding from behind the scenes without ever showing himself. So of course, Lin Yu wouldn't tell Jin Ling.

Seeing he showed not a trace of reluctance—only polite concern—her face fell. She put on a wounded pout: "Little Martial Uncle, you have no heart!"

Just then, Ling Xuance walked out of the bamboo courtyard. He nodded to Jin Ling, then said softly to the youth beside him: "A Yu, I need to go down the mountain."

The calm, composed Lin Yu from a moment ago suddenly had urgency in his eyes. He stepped forward, tilting his head up to press: "Down the mountain? How long? Where? When will you be back?"

Before Ling Xuance could answer, he added quickly: "I'm coming with you!"

With that, he completely forgot Jin Ling was still standing there, spun around, and rushed into the bamboo cottage to get ready.

Only Jin Ling stood frozen in the courtyard, watching the stark contrast unfold before her, her heart thoroughly wounded.

She silently grumbled to herself: It wasn't that Little Martial Uncle was heartless—it was that his heart and mind were completely occupied by Ling Xuance, and his thoughts had never once strayed to anyone else.

Exasperation and amusement bubbled up inside her. Jinling shouted toward the bamboo house, "Fine then, Little Martial Uncle! I won't bring you any more treats next time!"

With that, she put on a heartbroken act, like a jilted lover, covering her face and stomping her feet before scurrying off down Xuan Yue Peak.

A moment later, Lin Yu emerged from the bamboo house in fresh robes, just catching a glimpse of Jinling storming off in a huff. He looked utterly bewildered and stopped in his tracks.

He turned to Ling Xuance beside him, his eyes full of confusion, silently asking: What's wrong with Senior Sister Jinling?

Ling Xuance glanced at the innocent, puzzled youth, looking just as puzzled, and gave a slight shake of his head, as if to say he had no clue either.

Lin Yu didn't dwell on it. He shrugged off his confusion and hurried over to Ling Xuance's side.

"Brother Che, let's go."

Once the youth entered the small world, Ling Xuance walked out into the mountain morning light and headed down with him, setting off for the secret realm.

The upcoming foreign secret realm was fraught with unpredictable dangers, with disciples from various sects gathering in droves.

Lin Yu's innate talent with the Poison Spirit Vine was far too extraordinary. If exposed, it would inevitably draw greedy eyes and unwanted attention from all sides.

Ling Xuance had begun preparations the moment he first laid eyes on the vine. After leaving the secret realm, he made a dedicated trip to the forging town, pulling strings to beseech a reclusive master forger to craft a soft whip.

The primary material was the core of an ancient tree vine, obtained through desperate struggle in the secret realm. The grain and aura of this ancient vine bore an uncanny resemblance to the vine nurtured in Lin Yu's dantian.

If Lin Yu ever used his own vine in the future, outsiders would just think it was a whip technique and only marvel at how rare the artifact was.

Beyond that, Ling Xuance personally traveled to the Ten Thousand Buddha Sect, burning through money and favors, and with Qing Yi's introduction, beseeched a Buddhist monk to have protective exorcism sutras inscribed on the vine.

With the artifact in hand, even a Spirit Transformation stage cultivator attempting to harm Lin Yu by force would have a hard time—the whip's protection, plus Lin Yu's own innate spiritual vine, would absolutely guarantee his escape.

After a full three days of travel, they finally arrived at the renowned forging town.

The town's streets and alleys twisted like a maze. The clang of hammering iron echoed intermittently, and spiritual energy mixed with the scorching heat of furnaces washed over them.

Ling Xuance, familiar with the way, walked straight into the town's most discreet establishment, the "Thousand Forge Workshop."

The attendant on duty glanced up, recognized him at once, and hurried over with a respectful bow.

Ten years ago, a mysterious cultivator wearing a jade-patterned mask had visited the Thousand Forge Workshop, spending lavishly on priceless resources to commission a vine-based artifact that prioritized defense over offense.

For years, the workshop had poured all its effort into refining it, and it had just been completed recently.

The attendant quickly clasped his hands and smiled, "Fellow Daoist, you've arrived at the perfect moment! The artifact you commissioned is complete, and the master is meditating in the inner chamber right now. Let me take you in."

Ling Xuance gave a slight nod and followed the attendant through the outer hall, stepping into the tranquil inner chamber.

The inner room had no scorching furnace smoke—instead, it was calm and elegant. Seated in stillness was a young man in dark robes.

He wore a flowing black robe, with delicate, gentle features and striking good looks. His skin was fair and translucent. He looked like a young man in his prime, yet his temperament was mild and refined—nothing like the rough, imposing air of a typical forging master.

If any outside cultivator saw this, they'd be utterly astounded.

No one would ever guess that the legendary top forging grandmaster of the cultivation world—said to have lived for millennia with an eccentric temper—was actually so young and vibrant.