Yu Fusheng’s index finger wiped across the corner of his lips, lowering his gaze to look at the blood on his fingertip: “Do you know why I told you to stay far away and never appear before me again?”
Fang Zhongqing: “…You said you found me distasteful.”
“You actually believed that,” Yu Fusheng laughed softly, tilting up the exquisite chin before him, gently caressing it. “I told you to leave as a chance for you. I didn’t want to harm you.”
Fang Zhongqing frowned slightly, grabbing the hand that caressed his chin. He had never thought Yu Fusheng would harm him, so what the other said didn’t make him feel threatened.
“Do you know that by coming to find me, you’ve delivered yourself to me,” Yu Fusheng’s smile faded somewhat, his gaze profound. “I could restrain myself once, but it doesn’t mean I can restrain myself forever. This time… I don’t plan to let you go.”
Fang Zhongqing met those dark, narrow eyes and belatedly sensed the dangerous aura.
“Are you going to fight me?”
Fang Zhongqing assessed their respective strengths and reminded him: “But my cultivation is higher than yours.”
Yu Fusheng smiled without speaking, lowering his head slightly. His thin lips touched the fresh blood on his fingertip, like a kiss, with a hint of lingering affection.
Fang Zhongqing’s face paled. His entire body ached, and he couldn’t help but tremble as his blood behaved strangely, causing his spiritual energy to become uncontrollable as well.
In his blurred vision, he looked at Yu Fusheng, recalling the drop of blood that had been taken from him earlier.
“What spell is this?”
Yu Fusheng extended his slender hand, gripping the thin, fair wrist, letting the nearly collapsing Fang Zhongqing lean against him. His thin lips parted: “An evil art. Zhongqing, you’re too unguarded with me… truly foolish.”
This type of blood technique was extremely effective on first-time victims. Even for someone like Fang Zhongqing, it was difficult to resist when caught off guard.
But Fang Zhongqing still had some spiritual energy he could control, plus he never lacked top-tier techniques. After using the blood technique, Yu Fusheng didn’t relax but became even more vigilant, prepared for Fang Zhongqing’s counterattack, as he didn’t know how many trump cards the other had.
Yet even in pain to the point of fainting, Fang Zhongqing didn’t strike back at him. Let alone killing intent, there wasn’t even a trace of hostility.
Yu Fusheng, for a moment, didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. His heart was filled with mixed emotions, the only thing absent being the magnanimity that had made him let Fang Zhongqing leave before.
He lifted Fang Zhongqing horizontally and placed him on the spacious, soft bed.
The sky was dim, with dark clouds covering the night sky.
Fang Zhongqing’s long eyelashes trembled slightly. When he woke up, his body no longer hurt, but his limbs felt weak, and he couldn’t circulate his spiritual energy.
He turned his head slightly, silently recovering his spiritual energy while examining Yu Fusheng with puzzled eyes.
Yu Fusheng stood by the bed, silent since he had awakened. His narrow eyes revealed no emotion, but Fang Zhongqing sensed a strange coldness from within. No matter what he said or did now, the response would surely carry a bone-chilling coldness.
Fang Zhongqing didn’t know how to warm that gaze. After thinking for a moment, he asked: “Do you want to sleep with me?”
Yu Fusheng often came to Changyuan Peak at night, especially on rainy nights. Each time he came, he would say he hadn’t slept for ten days or half a month, and could only sleep well with him nearby.
Initially, Fang Zhongqing wasn’t used to having someone else in his bed, but after many times, he had grown accustomed to it.
Fang Zhongqing pondered whether Yu Fusheng had gone to such lengths, even using an evil art on him, just to remove his outer robe and make him lie in bed. Perhaps he hadn’t rested for too long and was worried Fang Zhongqing wouldn’t let him into the bed, so he took this roundabout approach.
After he voiced his guess, he heard Yu Fusheng laugh.
“What are you laughing at?”
“I’m laughing at a pitiful creature who carefully guarded a treasure for decades, not daring to touch it, always foolishly hoping that one day the treasure would approach him on its own,”
Yu Fusheng stood by the bed, leaning forward slightly, extending his cold fingers to caress Fang Zhongqing’s fair cheek.
“But the treasure was without emotion or heart, and he would never get his wish… so, in the end, that pitiful creature died.”
Fang Zhongqing was stunned: “Why did he die?”
Yu Fusheng narrowed his long eyes, emitting a cold, deep light: “Because he destroyed the treasure.”
Whether due to these words or Yu Fusheng’s overly explicit gaze, Fang Zhongqing’s expression changed slightly. He moved further into the bed, instinctively distancing himself from what felt dangerous.
But as he retreated, his wrist was seized.
Yu Fusheng leaned forward, pinning him to the bed, one hand lifting Fang Zhongqing’s chin as he sealed his soft lips.
Fang Zhongqing knew that besides sleeping, dual cultivation could also be performed in bed, but he didn’t believe Yu Fusheng would do this to him.
When the ties of his inner robe were torn open, Fang Zhongqing was slightly stunned. He grabbed the wrist at his waist, his knuckles turning white as he shook his head, trying to stop his friend of many years.
But Yu Fusheng’s movements didn’t slow in the slightest. He gripped Fang Zhongqing’s wrist, stripping the thin inner robe from his body, his gaze deep and heavy.
Their clothes fell to the floor beside the bed. Fang Zhongqing’s eyes unconsciously reddened, his long dark hair spread across the bed, his fair, jade-like bare back exposed to the air, covered with dense kiss marks.
Fang Zhongqing’s thoughts were in chaos. When his waist was embraced, a chilling sensation surged through his heart, like cold water waking him up.
He desperately pushed back: “Stop, Yu Fusheng, don’t do this to me…”
Yu Fusheng leaned forward, his chest pressed against Fang Zhongqing’s back, one hand covering his mouth, cutting off his nearly broken voice. His deep voice sounded by Fang Zhongqing’s ear: “Don’t say things that would soften my heart.”
Fang Zhongqing shook his head desperately. The next moment, his face turned as white as paper, pain making his entire body tremble.
But this pain was just the beginning.
Fang Zhongqing’s eyes widened slightly, sweat pouring down his forehead. In a daze, he didn’t know what he had grabbed, but his slender fingers tightened, his knuckles turning almost transparently white.
After completely possessing him, Yu Fusheng sighed softly. The gloom accumulated in his eyes dispersed, replaced by unprecedented satisfaction.
At the same time, something wet slid across the back of his hand.
Scalding hot, then gradually turning cold.
When Yu Fusheng realized what it was, he thought to himself that he would surely face retribution.
But he didn’t care.
Yu Fusheng tightly embraced the person in his arms, his handsome face filled with cold malevolence, his eyes revealing hysterical madness.
If Fang Zhongqing was destined not to belong to him, then at least he would make Fang Zhongqing remember him forever.
The once unreachable person, now beneath him, moaning softly, crying when it became unbearable.
Yu Fusheng’s eyes turned red, even his fingertips burning hot as he took him again and again on the bed, until Fang Zhongqing fainted in his arms. His exceptionally fair face retained faint tear stains, the cinnabar mark between his brows as red as dripping blood, his lips bitten until they bled.
Yu Fusheng gazed at him for a long time, then draped an outer robe over Fang Zhongqing, lifting him horizontally from the bed to bathe him.
When Fang Zhongqing woke up, his body was sore and weak. He turned his head to look at Yu Fusheng, who was holding him as he slept, so close, and fell into silence.
After a long while, Yu Fusheng opened his eyes: “What do you want to do?”
Fang Zhongqing’s eyes showed weariness, his voice hoarse: “I want to leave.”
His spiritual energy had not yet recovered. If Yu Fusheng wouldn’t let him go, it would be difficult to leave, but he didn’t want to stay here for a moment longer, to stay by Yu Fusheng’s side.
Yu Fusheng lightly “mm”-ed, having anticipated this. With a calm expression, he released him, sat up, and took a black dagger from beside the bed, placing it in his hand.
Fang Zhongqing recognized this dagger, a birthday gift he had given to Yu Fusheng: “What are you doing?”
Yu Fusheng said: “Kill me, and you can leave.”
Fang Zhongqing looked at him in disbelief.
Yu Fusheng didn’t elaborate, gripping his hand to press the sharp point of the dagger against his own heart.
This dagger was extremely powerful, capable of easily piercing even iron. The moment it touched Yu Fusheng’s chest, it broke the skin, causing crimson blood to soak through his inner robe.
When Fang Zhongqing’s eyes caught the bloodstain, he instinctively released the dagger, but Yu Fusheng held his hand tightly, with such force that he, lacking spiritual energy, couldn’t resist at all.
Fang Zhongqing said: “Stop.”
“There must be a choice,” Yu Fusheng’s face was calm. “I can’t bear to let you go. If you want to leave, you can only kill me. Don’t think about waiting for your spiritual energy to recover; I won’t give you the chance.”
Fang Zhongqing’s gaze gradually hardened: “I will find a way.”
Yu Fusheng responded indifferently, only saying mildly: “So now you can’t bear for me to die? Last night, you were crying beneath me, saying you wanted to kill me.”
Fang Zhongqing’s expression changed, his gaze trembling as he looked at him.
Yu Fusheng sighed: “Don’t you understand yet? We can’t go back to the past. This isn’t just a temporary madness; you needn’t think I can still be saved.”
His narrow eyes fixed on Fang Zhongqing as he curved his lips threateningly: “If you don’t kill me, as long as I’m alive, I’ll uncontrollably want you, and last night’s events will repeat countless times.”
Fang Zhongqing’s face paled, his expression becoming panicked.
Yu Fusheng waited quietly for a moment, seeing Fang Zhongqing’s hand tighten on the dagger.
A satisfied smile appeared on his face, which, against the backdrop of increasing blood on his chest, presented an almost demonic appearance.
Yu Fusheng opened his arms, calculating that when the dagger entered his heart, it would be the moment Fang Zhongqing was closest to him.
He wanted to embrace this person one last time.
But the imagined dagger never came; it was thrown aside. Instead, Fang Zhongqing crashed into his embrace, hugging him.
Yu Fusheng was stunned, his soul startled by this sudden change. The smile at the corner of his lips gradually disappeared, his long eyelashes hanging low, his expression even showing some bewilderment.
“I won’t kill you,” Fang Zhongqing said softly.
Yu Fusheng’s thin lips moved slightly: “You’re too soft-hearted, Zhongqing.”
“Is that so,”
Fang Zhongqing rested his chin on Yu Fusheng’s shoulder, his eyes gently closed. “But you spent twenty-three years becoming my most important person. Now, even if you do things I dislike, I still can’t bring myself to harm you.”
Yu Fusheng was stunned. It was as if the dagger hadn’t fallen but, with Fang Zhongqing’s words, was gradually piercing his heart.
Bloodily, stabbing again and again, hurting him so much he couldn’t speak.
After a long while, Yu Fusheng finally heard himself say, as if admitting defeat: “-Alright, I’ll let you go.”
His eyes crimson, he embraced the person in his arms one last time, instructing word by word: “This time, you must go far away, never come to see me again, never let me find you again.”
“Alright,” Fang Zhongqing said, “You must also return to the Sword Sect.”
Yu Fusheng returned to the Sword Sect, but he still occasionally missed Fang Zhongqing like a madman. Fortunately, the other had already left.
Most likely, he had successfully ascended.
As for himself, due to practicing evil arts and his persistent heart demon, ascension was unlikely.
At this time, Fang Zhongqing’s little disciple returned from the East Wilderness. Yu Fusheng, from the shadows, watched the two brothers who depended on each other at Changyuan Peak, and suddenly thought of something-a soul imprint.
Given Fang Zhongqing’s nature, he would leave a soul imprint with the little disciple he worried about.
Once this thought arose, Yu Fusheng found it hard to control himself, wanting to search for the soul imprint. But in the end, he didn’t move against the little disciple.
If Fang Zhongqing knew, he would be angry, and he didn’t want to anger him again.
Yu Fusheng returned to his cave dwelling alone. After more than a decade, his heart demon grew increasingly powerful, almost daily trapping him within it, controlled by its resentment.
Sometimes he couldn’t even distinguish who he truly was. All he could do was control himself to hide in his cave dwelling to avoid harming others.
But he hadn’t expected Fang Zhongqing’s little disciple to deliver himself to his doorstep.
The temptation of the soul imprint was too great. He couldn’t suppress the evil thoughts in his heart and captured the little disciple, using soul-searching techniques to scrape through his soul inch by inch, looking for traces of the soul imprint. Unfortunately, a black-clad youth interrupted.
This youth was a dragon descendant, still weak and could be killed.
But Yu Fusheng suddenly saw in him the image of himself from years ago at Manyou Valley, hiding Fang Zhongqing and wanting to protect him at all costs.
Yu Fusheng held back, and was eventually trapped in a barrier. Actually, escaping the barrier wasn’t difficult; he simply didn’t want to.
His Dao had abandoned him, and after so many years, he was tired.
Yu Fusheng stayed within the barrier, year after year, and his mental state actually became much more peaceful.
Yu Fusheng stayed within the barrier, year after year, and his mental state actually became much more peaceful.
Until one day, Ye Bingren, dressed in white, brought a brocade box containing small snowmen of various shapes: “Grand-master, these were given to me by the person I admire.”
Through the barrier, Yu Fusheng’s gaze fell on them as he listened to Ye Bingren say: “He gave me this gift to help me see clearly that this world doesn’t just have him, but also others. I’m no longer that child practicing sword alone in the ice and snow; I now have Grand-master, Master, Little Junior Master, Junior Brother…”
Ye Bingren said: “I hope Grand-master can also see clearly one day.”
Yu Fusheng looked at him with his narrow eyes, saying nothing. After a while, the corner of his lips curved into an arc, indistinguishable between mockery and envy.
It’s different.
He and Ye Bingren were different.
Ye Bingren lived in the Sword Sect he had built with his own hands, where elders were kind and fellow disciples harmonious. But in the Sword Sect of his youth, there was only overt and covert strife among fellow disciples, exclusion and suppression.
He had been falsely accused, taken the blame for others… His world didn’t have so many good people.
He had been abandoned since childhood, wandering through hardships, struggling to join an immortal sect, only to become the ridiculed last place.
Among his fellow disciples, all born into noble families, wearing brocade robes and jade belts, even the magical tools they discarded were things he had never possessed.
His only bit of talent, in a Sword Sect filled with geniuses, was like garbage, becoming the most inconspicuous thing.
In the ancient secret realm, he finally had a bit of luck, obtaining a secret technique.
But this technique was an evil art, with all crucial details recorded in the scroll. This art easily produced heart demons and made one susceptible to their control. Once practiced, it was like stepping onto a path of no return.
Yu Fusheng wasn’t unaware of the consequences of failing to control a heart demon.
He had hesitated, but had no choice.
The high and mighty young sect master wanted him dead; without the evil art, he would have been at others’ mercy.
To this day, Yu Fusheng didn’t regret practicing the evil art. His only regret was-he had lost his Dao.
Yu Fusheng didn’t know how he had lost something so important. The more he thought about it, the more aggrieved he felt.
“You were the one who provoked me first…”
Fang Zhongqing had kissed him first, provoked him, so why, in the end, was he the one at fault?
Yu Fusheng spent the whole night in chaotic thoughts, his mind hazy. In his daze, he felt a figure come to his side, somehow familiar, the temperature of the palm on his cheek just the same.
Yu Fusheng instinctively reached out to grab the sleeve, but caught only air, yet his slender hand still gripped tightly.
He remembered that night at Manyou Valley, kneeling in the rain, taking the blame for someone else, wanting a white-robed youth to stay and keep him company. But at that time, he was nothing, had no confidence, and could only dryly grab the other.
And at that time, the unreachable heaven’s pride had actually stayed for him.
Now, standing at the pinnacle of the continent, he was still like that youth who had nothing, grabbing at the only thing he could hold onto, saying softly: “Stay, keep me company for a while.”
In his daze, he heard a light sigh.
Just like that rainy night.
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Thank You for the new chapter (♡ ὅ ◡ ὅ )ʃ♡