Yu Fusheng intentionally avoided Fang Zhongqing, finished giving instructions to his subordinates, and drank alone in a pavilion. At this time, Mu Ranye arrived.
Yu Fusheng remembered that before leaving the Sword Sect, someone had mentioned to him that Mu Ranye had been captured by demonic cultivators before and had a psychological shadow regarding them, so she might not be suitable to participate in this demon-elimination mission. Yu Fusheng had agreed.
But unexpectedly, she had come anyway.
Mu Ranye wore a snow-white long dress and held a white flute. Compared to her girlish appearance from years ago, she had grown more beautiful, though she still maintained her cold demeanor, being somewhat warmer to Yu Fusheng but quite aloof to others.
Yu Fusheng asked: “Why did you come?”
Mu Ranye raised her beautiful face: “I came to lend Senior Brother a hand.”
Yu Fusheng smiled ambiguously, thinking to himself that he hadn’t fallen so low as to need others’ help: “Aren’t you afraid of demonic cultivators?”
Mu Ranye: “With Senior Brother here, of course I’m not afraid.”
After speaking, Mu Ranye stared intently at Yu Fusheng, trying to discern some expression from his face, but unfortunately, she couldn’t glimpse anything.
The man in the pavilion curved his thin lips slightly, narrowed his long eyes, wearing his usual gentle smile: “Since you are a member of the Sword Sect, as the sect master, I will naturally protect you to the best of my ability.”
Hearing this, Mu Ranye felt annoyed. Yu Fusheng’s response seemed to indicate he didn’t consider her special, treating her the same as everyone else.
Mu Ranye didn’t believe Yu Fusheng had no interest in her.
There were countless people in the sect who admired Yu Fusheng, but he had never cast his gaze on any of them, except for her.
Mu Ranye could sense that Yu Fusheng’s gaze often fell on her, and even others in the sect had noticed, generally acknowledging that they were a perfect match.
But Yu Fusheng never made his intentions clear. After waiting for so many years, Mu Ranye was somewhat impatient.
Yu Fusheng stared at Mu Ranye, gazing for a moment before his lips curved into a perfect arc, then slightly pressed down.
In the past, Mu Ranye holding her white flute, dressed in white, with her cold temperament, somewhat resembled a certain person. No wonder his gaze would involuntarily turn to her. It wasn’t that he liked her, but he enjoyed watching her from afar; up close, he didn’t like it.
Yu Fusheng suddenly found it quite amusing. He waved his hand, telling Mu Ranye to rest early.
Mu Ranye pressed her lips together and, after a long moment, left with a complex expression. Afterward, Yu Fusheng sat alone in the pavilion, drinking.
With a great enemy ahead, the Sword Sect Master was drinking himself into a stupor.
When Fang Zhongqing arrived, he could hardly believe his eyes.
In the pavilion, wine cups were shattered all over the ground. Yu Fusheng, catching a glimpse of the familiar figure, unconsciously reached out to encircle Fang Zhongqing’s waist: “You’ve come.”
Fang Zhongqing smelled the alcohol on Yu Fusheng. A Divine Transformation realm cultivator, actually drunk-if word got out, he would become the laughingstock of the Three Realms.
Fang Zhongqing stood still, his expression stiff as his waist was embraced, watching Yu Fusheng nuzzle against him, not knowing how to handle the situation. Only when he heard footsteps in the distance did he quickly take Yu Fusheng away.
Returning to their lodging, Fang Zhongqing felt his storage pouch, realizing he had no sobering pills. He could only sigh and support Yu Fusheng back to the bedroom.
But this man, slightly taller than him, stopped at the bedroom, looked at him, then at the room, and refused to enter: “No… can’t go in… you’re inside, I won’t be able to control myself.”
Fang Zhongqing was completely confused. Finally, with no other option, he reluctantly found a clean place outside.
Yu Fusheng leaned against him, sometimes staring, sometimes tightly gripping his wrist as if unwilling to let go, behaving very strangely.
But on his face, he constantly revealed pain.
Fang Zhongqing didn’t understand what was wrong with him. When asked, Yu Fusheng wouldn’t answer, so Fang Zhongqing could only help him undo his hairpin, letting him rest his head on his lap. Under the open sky, the two stayed under a tree for the entire night.
At dawn, Yu Fusheng woke up, opening his eyes to see lush branches and leaves. Shifting his gaze slightly, he saw an exquisitely contoured jawline.
Fang Zhongqing was leaning against the tree, his head against the rough trunk, his brows slightly furrowed, his breathing shallow and even.
Yu Fusheng was momentarily stunned. He sat up, and as his hand fell on Fang Zhongqing’s cheek, he quickly withdrew it. The memories of the previous night gradually returned.
He had refused to return to the room, so Fang Zhongqing had accompanied him outside for the whole night…
Yu Fusheng’s expression was extremely complex. The more Fang Zhongqing behaved this way, the more distressed he felt, and the harder it became to control the wicked thoughts in his heart.
To like someone, isn’t it about possessing them?
But Yu Fusheng also clearly knew that he couldn’t act this way.
When Fang Zhongqing woke up, he found that Yu Fusheng had disappeared again. He continued working on breaking the spell alone and finally found the solution.
The night Xi Mo suddenly vanished, there had been no spiritual energy fluctuations around. It was actually caused by a spell-not disappearing or escaping, but attaching himself to something nearby and hiding. Only after they left did he escape again.
Fang Zhongqing planned to tell Yu Fusheng. When he found him, Yu Fusheng’s hands were stained with blood, a pale-faced young woman stood beside him, and many Sword Sect disciples surrounded them.
Mu Ranye said with lingering fear: “Thank you, Senior Brother.”
Yu Fusheng stared at the fresh blood on his hands, the corner of his lips slightly raised: “It’s nothing.”
During the earlier confrontation, he had obtained a bit of Xi Mo’s blood. Yu Fusheng took out a specially made silk handkerchief and carefully wiped the bloodstains clean.
After wiping, Yu Fusheng suddenly noticed a robe hem hidden behind a tree, with familiar patterns embroidered in fine lines.
Yu Fusheng instinctively walked over, but just as he lifted his foot, he withdrew it again.
He called to everyone: “Let’s go.”
Fang Zhongqing, who had raised his hand halfway to greet him, saw Yu Fusheng leave. After a moment of silence, he took out a string of tanghulu, took a bite, tasting the sweet and sour flavor, and went to find Xi Mo on his own.
Since Xi Mo had just fought with Yu Fusheng, he probably hadn’t gone far.
But after searching for a long time, Fang Zhongqing couldn’t find him. The sky was covered with dark clouds, looking like it was about to rain.
In the evening, Fang Zhongqing stood by the riverbank, looking at a string of colorful lanterns along the road. As he was pondering where to search next, a jade pendant appeared in his line of sight-crescent-shaped and very beautiful.
As the lantern light fell, a shadow appeared beside him.
Yu Fusheng had left, but his mind was still on the robe corner exposed behind the tree. Only when someone pulled at him did he come back to his senses.
The other disciples had left midway, leaving only him and Mu Ranye. Mu Ranye looked at him, her eyes showing some ripples: “Senior Brother,”
Yu Fusheng asked: “What is it?”
Mu Ranye hesitated for a moment, her pretty face slightly flushed. As she raised her eyes, her cold gaze revealed a gentle look.
Yu Fusheng was momentarily dazed, suddenly remembering how Fang Zhongqing had looked like a child receiving a gift when he gave him tanghulu, his eyes curving into a smile, looking extremely beautiful.
By the time Yu Fusheng came back to his senses, Mu Ranye’s lips were slightly parted, already reaching the end of her speech, looking at him expectantly: “…have admired Senior Brother for many years.”
Yu Fusheng recalled that the woman before him seemed to be saying that before joining the sect, she had heard of his deeds-saving fellow disciples at Manyou Valley, fighting the Gu Diao alone, and bringing back the young sect master’s body from the secret realm, showing exceptional courage. So she had favorable feelings before joining the sect, and after being rescued by him from demonic cultivators, she had fallen for him completely.
After finishing, Mu Ranye looked expectantly at Yu Fusheng, who opened his narrow eyes, the corners of his lips raising in an almost mocking curve.
“The person you’re describing is not me.”
Mu Ranye didn’t understand, so Yu Fusheng leaned closer, whispering in her ear. His thin lips parted, and with the night wind came words like “ancient secret realm” and “kill.”
Mu Ranye’s face gradually paled, her eyes tinged with fear.
Yu Fusheng laughed coldly. What noble spirit and righteousness? Perhaps he had some when he was young and ignorant, but now, they had long since vanished completely.
These people never truly knew him; they only imagined him as they wanted him to be. And when he showed a glimpse of his true face, they were frightened and retreated.
Yu Fusheng found it laughable and left on his own.
At this time, in a demon lair in the demon realm, Fang Zhongqing’s white robes were stained with blood, his long eyelashes lowered, surrounded by scenes of collapse.
Xi Mo was still shaken. If he hadn’t lured Fang Zhongqing into the ancient Rakshasa Formation, depleting most of his spiritual energy, he would have been no match for the spiritual power Fang Zhongqing had displayed earlier.
Fortunately, this person was easily deceived.
Xi Mo laughed softly, approaching the figure collapsed in the formation. He bent down to place a kiss on the fair cheek. For safety, he bound Fang Zhongqing’s hands and feet with spiritual ropes before lifting him horizontally.
Fang Zhongqing was injured and nearly falling asleep in his dazed state when he was embraced by someone whose aura he disliked.
He struggled to open his eyes and saw a face smiling down at him: “Fang Zhongqing, will you be my demon consort?”
Fang Zhongqing’s brows furrowed tightly. The next moment, he was placed on a bed, a hand falling on his waist, sliding to untie his dark hair sash.
Fang Zhongqing didn’t know what this person intended to do, but he disliked being treated this way. However, having been ambushed and subjected to the formation’s power, his spiritual energy was completely depleted.
As the sash fell to the ground, Xi Mo suddenly pressed down on him.
Fang Zhongqing frowned deeply, using his minimal remaining spiritual energy to form a hand seal, and disappeared from the bed.
Xi Mo’s face showed disbelief. After a moment of reflection, his eyes showed even more amazement: “You actually learned it after seeing it just once!”
Knowing the secret of this spell, Xi Mo began searching the room, first setting up a barrier, then examining each object one by one, tapping them with spiritual energy.
“Come out, I see you.”
Fang Zhongqing had attached himself to a small plant on the windowsill. He was very tired but forced himself to stay awake, knowing the spell would disappear if he fell asleep.
He didn’t know why Xi Mo was removing his clothes, but it was likely nothing good. He instinctively felt repulsed. Without spiritual energy to fight back, hiding was his only option, though he wasn’t sure how long he could hold out.
Meanwhile, Yu Fusheng returned to their lodging and frowned when he couldn’t find Fang Zhongqing.
Thinking that Fang Zhongqing might have gone looking for Xi Mo, Yu Fusheng felt uneasy despite knowing Xi Mo was no match for him.
He took out the silk handkerchief, the bloodstains still fresh. He smeared a bit of blood on his fingertip, rubbing it between his fingers. In an instant, thousands of fine threads extended in all directions.
Xi Mo searched for a long time without finding anyone and began to look impatient. Finally, he noticed a small plant on the windowsill that emitted faint traces of blood in the night.
Xi Mo suddenly smiled, approaching step by step. As his fingers reached for the small plant, its green leaf tip immediately retreated slightly, moving without wind.
“So you’re here,” Xi Mo laughed softly. Just as he was channeling spiritual energy to force him out, the surrounding spiritual energy condensed.
The small plant extended its leaf tip and looked up.
Yu Fusheng appeared in the room with a drop of blood on his fingertip. Looking around, he saw things shattered everywhere, clearly someone had raged.
His gaze shifted, finally falling on the familiar cyan sash on the ground.
“Who do we have here? It’s Sect Master Yu.”
Xi Mo’s face showed disdain, but in the next moment, his heart was startled. The turning Yu Fusheng looked like a demon from hell, his eyes crimson, the corners of his lips curved into a cold smile.
Fang Zhongqing felt relieved but couldn’t hold on any longer and fell out of the plant he was possessing.
In his blurry vision, he vaguely saw Xi Mo being intercepted as he tried to grab him, letting out a miserable cry. Fang Zhongqing fell into a familiar embrace, held tightly. Yu Fusheng was probably frightened seeing him covered in blood.
When he woke up again, Fang Zhongqing saw Yu Fusheng with blood-stained fingertips, sitting sideways with an eerie smile, his narrow eyes exuding a strange sinister aura.
Anyone who saw this would not think it was the demeanor of someone from an immortal sect.
Yu Fusheng had just reduced Xi Mo to a puddle of bloody remains when he suddenly felt a gaze on his back. Turning around, his heart chilled as he stared at the awakened figure.
He must be frightened… seeing him in this state.
But soon, Fang Zhongqing approached, merely frowning slightly. He took out a silk handkerchief and carefully wiped the fresh blood from Yu Fusheng’s hands. Without asking what cultivation technique he had practiced, he only said: “If others see this, it would be detrimental to you. Don’t use it again.”
Yu Fusheng was stunned for a long time. The crimson in his eyes gradually dispersed as he embraced the person before him.
He dared not imagine what would have happened to Fang Zhongqing if he hadn’t arrived in time, seeing how severely injured he was. “What happened?”
Fang Zhongqing looked dejected: “He said you were trapped in the Rakshasa Formation.”
Yu Fusheng’s expression froze as he stared at him: “So you just went in.”
Fang Zhongqing nodded. That person had made a puppet that looked exactly like Yu Fusheng. Fang Zhongqing hadn’t had time to think much and rushed in, wanting to bring Yu Fusheng back. Unexpectedly, just as he was supporting him, he was struck by the puppet and fell into the death realm within the formation.
Yu Fusheng remained silent for a long time, tightly gripping Fang Zhongqing’s hand, his face wearing a smile that was somewhat bitter, helpless, yet happy.
“You win, Fang Zhongqing.”
Fang Zhongqing was extremely tired, leaning against Yu Fusheng’s shoulder. He vaguely heard these words but didn’t understand what he had won. His eyelids grew heavy and drooped as drowsiness overtook him, and he fell asleep uncontrollably.
Yu Fusheng held the cyan sash, lifted him horizontally, and walked away.
Yu Fusheng had made up his mind that before ascending, he would conceal his feelings to avoid breaking Fang Zhongqing’s dao heart.
The Sword Sect had already become what he had envisioned, and he no longer wanted to waste effort on it. So at the Blue Flame Boundary, he accepted a disciple named Lan Xiaosheng, who had good aptitude and excellent character. After training him to become an excellent sect master, Yu Fusheng rarely appeared in public.
His figure often appeared on Changyuan Peak, cultivating with Fang Zhongqing and even taking him out.
Soon after, Fang Zhongqing also accepted a disciple, saying they had a predestined connection. Though young, this Ling Ye was steady in his actions and exceptionally talented, clearly not an ordinary person. Yu Fusheng knew that Fang Zhongqing accepted a disciple out of boredom; he was already approaching the Ascension realm and would soon face the tribulation if he continued cultivating diligently.
Fang Zhongqing had promised to wait for him to ascend together, so he deliberately avoided cultivation and began accepting disciples to pass the time.
Yu Fusheng’s cultivation speed wasn’t slow, but compared to Fang Zhongqing, who was naturally suited for cultivation and free from distractions, he was still slightly inferior.
Yu Fusheng could only dedicate more time to cultivation, rarely appearing before Fang Zhongqing. Unexpectedly, this gave an opportunity to a little fellow.
Fang Zhongqing accepted another disciple, a delicately beautiful child who especially liked to stick close to him, occasionally puffing up snow-white cheeks and raising a childish voice: “Master.”
The child loved to hug Fang Zhongqing’s legs and act coquettishly.
Yu Fusheng could see that Fang Zhongqing deeply cherished this little disciple, often showing a helpless yet indulgent smile, always spoiling him.
Yu Fusheng found this little disciple very displeasing, and what he found most intolerable was that the little disciple would often knock on Fang Zhongqing’s door at night, hugging a pillow: “I want to sleep with Master.”
Thus, Yu Fusheng gradually lost the opportunity to share a bed with Fang Zhongqing. But he couldn’t be angry because at such times, Fang Zhongqing would take the initiative to kiss him, seemingly using kisses as a form of appeasement.
Tonight, having broken through to the late stage of the Grand Completion realm, Yu Fusheng couldn’t resist seeking out Fang Zhongqing. But shortly after arriving, he heard a knock at the door, from a low height-it was a child.
“Master, I’ve come to sleep.”
Fang Zhongqing raised his eyebrows slightly, then said to Yu Fusheng: “You should go.”
Yu Fusheng’s face darkened, and he refused to leave. Fang Zhongqing kissed him on the lips, but Yu Fusheng still wasn’t pleased, holding onto Fang Zhongqing and not letting go, his face showing anger.
Fang Zhongqing had no choice but to go out and coax the little disciple, sending him back to his room. Only then did Yu Fusheng relent.
Fang Zhongqing was very attentive to his little disciple, often using astrology to divine and peek into heaven’s secrets, striving to obtain celestial treasures for the little disciple.
Yu Fusheng was quite jealous, so he asked Fang Zhongqing if he would be reluctant to part with his little disciple when the time came to ascend.
Fang Zhongqing’s answer made him both happy and disheartened.
“Before ascending, one must sever all karmic ties. I will miss him, but I won’t stay behind because of it.”
The ultimate goal of everyone’s cultivation was ascension, to avoid eventually turning to dust. Yu Fusheng saw the firmness of Fang Zhongqing’s pursuit of the Dao, which nothing could shake even slightly. He could only sigh inwardly, grateful that Fang Zhongqing was willing to wait for him. Yu Fusheng thought to himself that after they both ascended, free from worries, he would find an opportunity to express his feelings.
But unexpectedly, things didn’t go as he wished.
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Thank You for the new chapter ♡(ӦｖӦ｡)