After the ancient secret realm, no one knew what Yu Fusheng had gained, if anything at all. From then on, Yu Fusheng frequently left the sect for training, and with each return, his cultivation had inevitably advanced.
Since ancient times, there has been a type of person whose talent isn’t displayed through meditation and cultivation, but rather through battlefield baptism, gradually transforming through combat with others.
The Sword Sect’s upper echelon classified Yu Fusheng as this type. Watching his reputation for slaying demons rise in the cultivation world, they gradually placed their expectations on him, and the sect’s premium resources began to flow in his direction.
Yu Fusheng’s status in the Sword Sect rose dramatically. In just a few short years, he transformed from ranking last in the sect’s entrance trial to becoming the top disciple of his cohort. Even looking across the entire cultivation world, among the new generation of immortal sect disciples, none could compare to him except for the exceptionally talented Fang Zhongqing.
With the addition of new Sword Sect disciples, whenever Yu Fusheng walked through the sect, the gazes he received were inevitably filled with admiration and worship, as if looking at heaven’s chosen one.
Thus, Yu Fusheng obtained everything he had never dared to dream of, becoming radiant and joining the ranks of those who had once seemed unattainable. But only he knew the price paid behind it all.
After returning from Manyou Valley, nightmares haunted him every night.
Countless times, whenever he closed his eyes, he would return to that rainy night in Manyou Valley.
The Gu Diao tearing his flesh with its sharp beaks, every part of his body feeling as if being carved by blades, trembling with pain, with nowhere to escape.
Rain mixed with blood, flowing in the muddy ground.
He was just an ordinary disciple, completely powerless against the ferocious great demon. The fear of being devoured by the demon beast was like countless hands, gradually pulling him into a cold, dark place.
But this wasn’t the end of the nightmare. What made him break into a cold sweat, waking up terrified, was another figure.
Similarly struggling in pain under the Gu Diao, experiencing the fear brought by the demon beast, but Yu Fusheng had become an observer, watching that bloodied youth extend two hands of bare white bone, firmly gripping the Gu Diao’s legs, not allowing it to advance even half a step.
The youth raised his head, a face identical to his own, but fierce and distorted.
A pair of bloodshot black eyes, in the dim light of the forest, emitting a crimson color.
“You dare touch him-”
Yu Fusheng had never seen himself like this, so unfamiliar it was chilling. He tried every method to avoid the nightmare, but apart from staying awake without rest, there was no other way. He cultivated diligently, striving to suppress himself from becoming that way.
But some people wouldn’t let him have his wish. Xue Chuan was like this, constantly showing off Fang Zhongqing’s jade slip.
As if repeatedly telling him that there was a vast difference in status between him and Fang Zhongqing. And Xue Chuan, even after making a grave mistake in Manyou Valley that attracted the Zheng beast, had this unfortunate soul to take the blame for him. Just because he was the Young Sect Master, he could easily approach Fang Zhongqing and was qualified to befriend him.
Yu Fusheng entered the secret realm with him. Inside, he was extremely fortunate to find a spell scroll of immense power, though it was an evil art.
Practicing evil arts, once begun, there was no turning back. Yu Fusheng hesitated, but Xue Chuan soon discovered that he had found something extraordinary in the secret realm and came to trouble him. Xue Chuan’s cultivation far surpassed his; killing for treasure would take but a moment. With no other choice, Yu Fusheng practiced the evil art known as Blood Technique.
Taking a drop of someone’s blood, even if they fled a thousand miles away, could make them suffer a fate worse than death. Yu Fusheng settled both old and new grudges at once, ensuring Xue Chuan would never leave the secret realm alive.
Though it was the first time he had killed someone, Yu Fusheng felt exceptionally liberated. Had anyone been present, they would surely have seen his crimson eyes filled with evil.
Yu Fusheng took Xue Chuan’s jade slip, emerged from the secret realm, and gazed alone at the character “Qing” upon it before crushing it after a long while.
Something given to others didn’t need to be kept.
But as the jade slip’s powder fell from his hand, Yu Fusheng felt some regret. Keeping it might have allowed him to contact Fang Zhongqing. This hint of regret gradually brought him back from his unfamiliar state.
Yu Fusheng stared at the powder on his hand, and suddenly, his face turned pale.
He believed he had been bewitched to practice the Blood Technique, yet when he saw Xue Chuan struggling in pain, crying and begging for mercy, he could remain unmoved, as cold and merciless as a god of death.
This realization made Yu Fusheng recall the pair of narrow eyes from his nightmare, emitting a crimson, violent color that would chill anyone’s heart.
Gradually, Yu Fusheng was increasingly haunted by nightmares. Sometimes upon waking, he couldn’t distinguish which was the real world, as if permanently trapped in that rainy night in Manyou Valley.
To avoid nightmares, Yu Fusheng cultivated day and night without rest.
But after a long time, he couldn’t persist. It was then that he began sending messages to Fang Zhongqing, thinking perhaps the other had already forgotten him. But when he received a reply via messenger bird, his heart couldn’t help but surge with excitement.
Compared to his past, where he sought nothing but to improve his cultivation, Yu Fusheng found himself wanting more and more things.
He began to no longer reject the Blood Technique, even deliberately traversing the junctions of the Three Realms, seeking places abundant with demonic cultivators and demon beasts to practice his Blood Technique.
Through practice with these demonic cultivators and demon beasts, he continuously improved his cultivation, catching up to Fang Zhongqing.
Fang Zhongqing maintained contact with him. Unlike Yu Fusheng who trained outside, Fang Zhongqing disliked going out, staying on Changyuan Peak year-round, rarely appearing in public. Apart from the Qinglin Sect Master, others found it difficult to approach him.
Changyuan Peak had few people, which was convenient for Yu Fusheng to appear within the peak without anyone noticing.
That night, Fang Zhongqing came out of the spirit spring, put on his outer robe, and caught a whiff of blood scent drifting from outside the window. His eyebrows raised slightly as he went barefoot to search for the person, leaving winding water marks on the wooden corridor floor.
At this time, it couldn’t be his master; it could only be Yu Fusheng.
Fang Zhongqing thought to himself: He’s probably injured again.
He was accustomed to meditation cultivation, unlike Yu Fusheng who preferred battling others outside. Getting injured was commonplace for Yu Fusheng; he rarely came without the smell of blood.
Fang Zhongqing’s jade-white hand took out a storage pouch, pondering while looking around. As expected, he saw a figure in the courtyard.
The youth stood at the bottom of the steps, his clothes stained with blood, who knew how long he had been waiting. His handsome face was half-hidden in darkness, his eyes closed, his demeanor showing some fatigue.
Seeming to sense his arrival, a pair of narrow eyes opened, revealing joy: “Zhongqing.”
“How are you injured again?” Fang Zhongqing walked down the steps, taking hold of the youth who had grown much taller in the half year they hadn’t seen each other.
The hand he held was quite cold, carrying the chill of the night. Fang Zhongqing frowned slightly, channeling spiritual energy to warm Yu Fusheng, then led him by the hand into the room to apply medicine.
Yu Fusheng explained: “I encountered a demon general, nothing serious.” In the demon realm, demon generals were second only to demon lords in status; he had fought a fierce battle with one.
Yu Fusheng undid his robe, exposing most of his shoulders and back, and lay down on the couch with practiced ease.
Fang Zhongqing looked at the bloody wounds and applied some medicine.
Others might have asked why Yu Fusheng didn’t return to the Sword Sect, why he didn’t seek an alchemist when injured, why he didn’t tell his fellow disciples, and why he insisted on coming to him. But Fang Zhongqing was only interested in cultivation and showed little enthusiasm for other matters.
Therefore, when someone came and was injured, he simply applied medicine without asking many questions.
But tonight, the area needing medicine was too close to the heart. Fang Zhongqing’s gaze shifted slightly, inevitably noticing an old scar right at Yu Fusheng’s heart.
He had heard from his master that the Gu Diao’s beak had nearly completely pierced through Yu Fusheng’s heart.
At that time, Fang Zhongqing was in the grass thicket, sleeping hazily due to uncontrollable injuries, but he vaguely remembered that the other hadn’t uttered a single cry of pain.
Fang Zhongqing looked at the youth’s tired face, seemingly exhausted, and after a moment’s pause, said: “Why must you go fighting? Isn’t it good to stay in the sect and cultivate?”
Yu Fusheng lifted his eyelids, silent for a moment: “This is the fastest way for me to improve my cultivation.”
He turned to look at Fang Zhongqing.
The white-robed youth before him had been heaven’s pride since childhood, never experiencing any darkness, unaware that even in immortal sects, there were constant overt and covert struggles, with undercurrents of competition among disciples.
Yu Fusheng: “I don’t like the Sword Sect as it is now.”
In the past, at the bottom of the Sword Sect, he had tasted all the warmth and coldness of human relationships. Those disciples of distinguished status-descendants of sect masters and elders, disciples from famous families-carried too strong a sense of superiority, always naturally above others in the sect. Even when they made mistakes, high-ranking individuals would bend the rules to help them escape punishment.
Yu Fusheng didn’t like such a sect.
What he hoped for in the Sword Sect was harmony among disciples, with sect masters and elders treating everyone equally, rather than a cultivation place full of injustice, no different from the mortal world.
Fang Zhongqing had never seen these things, having lived a smooth life. Yu Fusheng didn’t envy him; rather, he was quite glad.
In his perception, Fang Zhongqing should be like this-untainted by worldly dust, like a deity, not like himself, who had to crawl out of a black mud pit to find a bit of light.
Yu Fusheng said: “One day, I will make the Sword Sect better. Do you believe that?”
Fang Zhongqing said: “You want to become the sect master.”
Yu Fusheng nodded. Fang Zhongqing blinked, not understanding why anyone would want to be a sect master, dealing with countless affairs, full of troublesome matters.
Regarding whether he believed: “Does my belief matter?”
Yu Fusheng stared at him and nodded again.
Fang Zhongqing pondered for a moment, put away the medicine bottle, his lips curving slightly, and nodded.
Yu Fusheng’s eyes instantly brightened.
After staying at Changyuan Peak for a short while, as the night deepened, Yu Fusheng asked Fang Zhongqing if he wanted to go out training with him when leaving.
Fang Zhongqing shook his head; he disliked going out and felt comfortable only within the sect.
Yu Fusheng didn’t persuade him further. In fact, since discovering that Changyuan Peak had few people and that Fang Zhongqing, apart from interactions with his master the Qinglin Sect Master, was unfamiliar with others in Qinglin, he was extremely pleased.
This way, he would become the person closest to Fang Zhongqing.
***
In the blink of an eye, the Immortal Sects Exchange Conference, held once every ten years in the cultivation world, arrived.
The conference was hosted by the three major immortal sects, partly to promote relationships between various sects in the cultivation world, and partly to compare the strength of disciples from each sect, thereby determining their status in the cultivation world.
At the conference, disciples from all sects in the cultivation world, regardless of size, mingled among each other.
Among them, the most eye-catching were the three major immortal sects, and among all sects, the most discussed individuals were Yu Fusheng and Fang Zhongqing.
In recent years, Fang Zhongqing rarely went out. The outside world only knew that Qinglin Sect had a reclusive genius, with little else known. Yu Fusheng was different, training year-round in various parts of the cultivation world, recognized by disciples from all sects.
As the conference approached, the moment Yu Fusheng stepped in, gazes from all directions fell upon him.
Then, seeing the person beside him, a commotion arose.
The young man who entered the venue had just come of age. His black hair was tied up with a hairpin, his face no longer showing the youthfulness of adolescence, but now with distinct features-a pair of narrow eyes, a high bridge of the nose, extraordinarily handsome.
He was tall and slender, wearing the uniform of the Sword Sect disciples, standing out like a crane among chickens, forming a stark contrast, indescribably dazzling.
The woman accompanying him wore a plain white dress, was tall, had a pair of clear eyes, beautiful features, and held a jade flute in her hand, with a cold and elegant demeanor.
Many recognized her and exclaimed: “It’s Fairy Ranye!”
Mu Ranye was a disciple recently accepted by the Sword Sect Master. In the Sword Sect, which was predominantly male, female disciples were rare, especially one so beautiful. Additionally, Mu Ranye had good aptitude and quickly became famous in the cultivation world.
People looked at the talented man and beautiful woman, their aura distinctly different from those around them, recalled some rumors, and revealed ambiguous expressions.
“It’s said that Mu Ranye was surrounded by demonic cultivators, and in her moment of peril, she met Senior Brother Yu.”
“What a heroic rescue of a beauty. Fairy Ranye has many admirers, but she doesn’t pay attention to any of them, except showing a good face to Yu Fusheng.”
“Alas, the flower has its owner; we can only admire from afar.”
Hearing the surrounding conversations, Mu Ranye’s typically cold expression revealed some shyness. Her hand gripping the jade flute tightened slightly as her gaze slanted toward the person beside her.
Strangely, Yu Fusheng treated everyone the same, neither good nor bad, but uniquely toward her, he seemed to have a bit more tenderness.
Hearing the surrounding comments, Mu Ranye’s heart beat slightly faster. She wanted to see Yu Fusheng’s expression, but he seemed oblivious to these words, as if not hearing them, looking around, searching for something.
Mu Ranye’s red lips parted slightly: “Senior Brother…”
Just as she spoke, the person beside her suddenly turned his head, his gaze crossing the crowd, spotting someone, and quickly walked over.
Fang Zhongqing sat alone in a corner, the table filled with various delicacies, all specialties. He picked up a grape, noticed the discussions in front, but showed no interest in looking that way.
He originally didn’t want to come, but unfortunately, the Qinglin Sect Master probably noticed that his disciple hadn’t left Changyuan Peak for seven years, spending his days either cultivating or tending to the flowers and plants on the peak.
While such isolation from trivial worldly matters was beneficial for cultivation, at his age of growth, if this continued, the Qinglin Sect Master worried that one day when he went out, his disciple might be easily led astray due to his ignorance of the world. Therefore, he insisted that Fang Zhongqing attend the exchange conference to make some good friends.
But after leaving his master’s sight, Fang Zhongqing sat alone in a corner. Most other disciples were busy making friends and exchanging skills, so few noticed the additional person in the corner.
Only now, following Yu Fusheng’s footsteps, did people notice the white-robed young man sitting in the corner.
More gazes turned his way, and Fang Zhongqing looked up, blinking in confusion.
Only then did everyone see what a pleasing appearance the young man quietly eating grapes possessed.
He wore white robes embroidered with plum blossoms-Qinglin Sect attire. His ink-black long hair cascaded behind him, unbound, adding a touch of casualness.
His features were exquisite and beautiful, with a striking cinnabar mark between his brows. Below were eyes like colored glaze, clear yet carrying a hint of coldness.
His jade-like hand picked up a grape, his ten fingers slender, appearing even more fair against the purple grape skin.
Just as he was about to peel the grape, noticing everyone’s gaze, Fang Zhongqing paused and looked back.
Everyone’s hearts collectively chilled, realizing that such staring was impolite and had angered him. But in the next moment, they saw the white-robed young man lower his long eyelashes, much of the coldness dissipating as his expression softened.
He placed the grape back on the jade plate, as if caught doing something wrong. His fair, jade-like face visibly flushed, his demeanor showing some bewilderment.
Fang Zhongqing hadn’t seen so many people for a long time and felt somewhat uncomfortable. He had just wanted to eat a grape but didn’t expect a group of people to stare at him.
In his youth, standing on the high platform of the Sword Sect’s martial arts plaza, he could coldly stare back. As he grew older, he had regressed somewhat, unable to maintain a cold face for long.
Under everyone’s gaze, he couldn’t eat the grape anymore.
Just then, he heard a familiar voice: “Zhongqing.”
Yu Fusheng’s thin lips curved slightly. He had visited Changyuan Peak just two days ago, and Fang Zhongqing had said he wouldn’t come. Yu Fusheng had immediately felt the exchange conference would be boring, but unexpectedly, he had come after all.
Yu Fusheng noticed Fang Zhongqing’s slightly flushed cheeks, then noticed the surrounding people who, upon hearing “Zhongqing,” guessed his identity. Their amazed gazes began to show hints of fervor.
Yu Fusheng’s face darkened as his smile faded.
Fang Zhongqing rarely appeared in the cultivation world. Apart from rumors of his early entry into the Divine Transformation realm, there was no other news. What this once-in-a-millennium genius of the cultivation world looked like and what his personality was like, no one knew-he was very mysterious.
Now that the veil of mystery was suddenly lifted, everyone’s hearts surged with waves.
Though he appeared cold, like snow on a high mountain, the inadvertent flush on his face left everyone stunned.
Yu Fusheng sat beside Fang Zhongqing: “I thought you weren’t coming.”
Fang Zhongqing looked up, his cold voice carrying some helplessness: “Master made me come.”
As he spoke, his exquisite features showed a languid expression, as if somewhat aggrieved.
Yu Fusheng’s gaze swept across his face, unable to help but linger, feeling that every movement of the other could captivate his spirit. Though they had only been apart for a few days, he now had an impulse to embrace him, wanting to be closer.
Yu Fusheng suppressed these thoughts, shifted his gaze, picked up the grape Fang Zhongqing had put down, peeled it, and then held it to his mouth: “Open your mouth.”
Fang Zhongqing was used to Yu Fusheng feeding him on Changyuan Peak and didn’t find it inappropriate, but under everyone’s watchful eyes, he felt somewhat uncomfortable.
His thin lips parted slightly, the light red color of his lips appearing more vivid against the translucent fruit: “I can peel it myself.”
Yu Fusheng’s gaze fell on the increasingly rosy lips, noticing a drop of grape juice on them. A sudden heat rose within him, as if swept by waves of fire.
He didn’t know why, but an impulse emerged from deep within his heart. Unfortunately, it was covered by a thin mist, making everything unclear. So this impulse could only blindly surge in his heart, like a fire he didn’t know how to extinguish.
Fang Zhongqing ate the grape and noticed that after Yu Fusheng fed him, the surrounding gazes that were about to disperse suddenly converged again, becoming rich and varied.
Everyone was dumbfounded, and finally, they all began talking about how close the two were.
Fang Zhongqing heard a few comments and thought to himself that they were right-he and Yu Fusheng were indeed good friends.
He didn’t know how long these people would keep watching. His gaze swept through the crowd, inadvertently noticing the white-robed young woman from earlier, her willow eyebrows slightly furrowed, her hand tightly gripping the jade flute, her entire being emanating an icy aura.
Fang Zhongqing asked curiously: “Is she your future dao companion?”
He had just heard many rumors about the two, all saying they were a perfect match, with mutual affection, and that the Sword Sect Master intended to bring them together.
Yu Fusheng paused, his narrow eyes narrowing slightly.
Mu Ranye was considered his junior sister, but when they first met during his training journey, he didn’t know her identity.
At that time, Mu Ranye had been captured by demonic cultivators. Yu Fusheng initially didn’t care to rescue her, but as he was leaving, he happened to see her in white, holding a jade flute, her entire being exuding coldness. His heart suddenly stirred, and he rarely meddled in others’ affairs.
Unexpectedly, she turned out to be the sect master’s beloved disciple. After just this one incident, rumors spread within the sect. Yu Fusheng had no particular feelings about this; others’ opinions couldn’t stir any ripples in his heart-he didn’t care what they said.
But for some reason, seeing Fang Zhongqing’s casual demeanor now, even showing some curiosity, Yu Fusheng’s heart sank slightly. His previous joyful mood was covered by a layer of gloom, inexplicably becoming low.
Yu Fusheng picked up a teacup and poured: “I don’t know, perhaps.”
Although Fang Zhongqing wasn’t skilled in social interactions, he noticed Yu Fusheng’s instantly dampened spirits, the displeasure between his brows, and his flat tone.
He didn’t know why the other was unhappy, but after thinking about it, he figured it was probably because he didn’t like others inquiring about such matters, and his questioning was improper.
Fang Zhongqing watched Yu Fusheng drinking tea alone, pondered for a moment, and picked up a grape: “For you.”
The peeled, purple-tinged grape fell into Yu Fusheng’s sight, startling him slightly.
He raised his head slightly to see Fang Zhongqing’s cold face, slightly curved lips, eyes bright as stars, and a hint of nervousness, as if coaxing him: “It’s very sweet, try it.”
The gloom in Yu Fusheng’s eyes instantly dispersed. He ate the grape fed by Fang Zhongqing, then looked at the rapidly changing expressions of those nearby, raising his eyebrows slightly, the sweetness between his teeth seemingly flowing to the tip of his heart.
This was the most delicious grape he had ever eaten.
Yu Fusheng gazed at the young man before him for a while, suddenly remembering something. Currently, Fang Zhongqing had no one by his side, but the path of cultivation was long; perhaps in the future, he would also find a dao companion.
If he found a dao companion, what would it be like?
Would Fang Zhongqing protect her? Would they cultivate together, train together, share a bed at night, be inseparable during the day… perhaps he would feed her grapes like this, showing a smile rarely seen even by him.
Or perhaps one day, Fang Zhongqing would abandon him for his dao companion, choosing another person.
Thinking of these things, Yu Fusheng suddenly became anxious, a restlessness rising in his heart. Gradually, his narrow eyes even revealed killing intent.
The teacup in his hand silently cracked, fine fissures spreading like a spider web. Just as it was about to shatter completely, a slender hand fell on it, pressing down on Yu Fusheng’s.
Yu Fusheng came to his senses, looked around at the disciples with shocked expressions, and suddenly realized that he had lost control of his emotions and released his pressure.
Fang Zhongqing frowned slightly: “What’s wrong with you?”
The aura Yu Fusheng had just released made other disciples feel suffocated, thinking it was the pressure of a peak Nascent Soul cultivator. But Fang Zhongqing sensed that this wasn’t the cultivation level of a Nascent Soul stage, and moreover, this pressure carried a cold aura.
Being close, Fang Zhongqing noticed the fierce look in Yu Fusheng’s eyes, somewhat sinister.
Yu Fusheng was inwardly startled and hurriedly withdrew his pressure completely. Fortunately, Fang Zhongqing had interrupted him in time. Since it was only momentary, everyone, though frightened, merely attributed it to cultivation suppression.
Fang Zhongqing’s heart filled with more doubts. Just as he was about to inquire, he heard Yu Fusheng ask jokingly: “What kind of dao companion will Zhongqing look for in the future?”
Fang Zhongqing frankly said: “I won’t look for one.”
Due to his cultivation reasons, he had to keep his mind free from distractions. If he had a dao companion, it would violate his unworldly dao heart, with serious consequences.
Therefore, Fang Zhongqing never intended to have a dao companion.
Moreover, he liked tranquility. Even with Yu Fusheng coming to Changyuan Peak, it took him a long time to adapt. If he had a dao companion in the future, being inseparable day after day, he didn’t know how long it would take to get used to it. He found it too troublesome and preferred to remain alone.
Hearing this, Yu Fusheng’s previously suppressed mood dispersed, and joy was written all over his face.
This is excellent. The path of cultivation is long, but he would always stay by Fang Zhongqing’s side. Having him was enough; others were unnecessary and unworthy.
Fang Zhongqing noticed his mood change and blinked curiously, wondering how it had shifted so quickly.
At that time, Yu Fusheng didn’t understand what feelings he had for Fang Zhongqing. He only knew he wanted to stay by this person’s side while isolating Fang Zhongqing from the outside world, not allowing anyone else to approach him.
Intentionally or not, he made Fang Zhongqing’s world contain only him, thereby becoming the most important person to Fang Zhongqing.
And this, after the Qinglin Sect Master’s departure, gradually became reality.
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Thank You for the new chapter (ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡