The first outbreak of the cold poison had lasted three shichen, but this time, it took a full six shichen before the bone-chilling cold throughout Pei Zizhuo’s body finally dissipated.
Shen Shu kept vigil beside him through the entire night. Only when the eastern sky began to pale did he tuck in the edges of the quilt and gently lean back against the couch.
A faint white light fell upon Pei Zizhuo’s face, revealing his uneasy expression in sleep. Sweat beaded upon his brow, and his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, carrying a look of deep bitterness. Seeing that the man looked exhausted even in slumber, Shen Shu could not help raising a hand to smooth away the crease between his brows.
He knew that after Pei Zizhuo’s immortal bones were destroyed, he had been thrown into the dark, yin-soaked Soul Burning Pagoda before he could even recuperate, which was why such severe cold energy plagued his body. Yet no matter how deep the chill was, a full night of roasting by the Red Lotus True Fire should have dispersed it. Why did it persist so relentlessly, as if continuously growing from within Pei Zizhuo’s body?
At the thought of this, Shen Shu’s heart tightened, gripped by an inexplicable sense that something was amiss. Resting his fingertip upon Pei Zizhuo’s glabella, he closed his eyes and channeled his sea of consciousness along with his immortal power into him. Instantly, a white light exploded in his mind, and his consciousness was abruptly drawn into a void, plunging directly into Pei Zizhuo’s sea of consciousness.
A cultivator’s sea of consciousness was the dwelling place of their awareness, housing their boundless mental perceptions. Had Pei Zizhuo not been excessively drained tonight and lowered his guard, Shen Shu would never have been able to enter under any circumstances.
Within Shen Shu’s own sea of consciousness, the true fire was cyan, the spiritual energy was red, and the heavens and earth were entirely white. Standing alone within it felt like an ephemeral mayfly adrift between heaven and earth, a solitary grain cast into the boundless ocean, a state of self and non-self where astral energy flowed freely.
All cultivators were adept at nourishing the pure and expelling the turbid, so their seas of consciousness were generally similar and ought to be pure and uniform in hue. Yet Shen Shu was startled by what he found within Pei Zizhuo’s sea of consciousness.
Chaos, oppression, and darkness ruled the expanse. The entire sea of consciousness seemed enveloped in dense fog, to the point where one could no longer tell where they stood.
No wonder Pei Zizhuo’s temperament was so erratic and unpredictable. With a sea of consciousness in such utter disarray, anyone would find it difficult to feel lighthearted or at ease.
Shen Shu could not help feeling a twinge of pity for Pei Zizhuo. Parting the dense fog, he saw countless strands of spiritual energy trapped and dragged around by the black mist, darting frantically across the sea of consciousness as if fleeing for their lives.
This was a sign of impending demonic transformation!
Casting all else aside, Shen Shu flicked a wisp of immortal energy to disperse the black mist. What followed immediately, however, was a violent tremor throughout the sea of consciousness, as though what he had just scattered was Pei Zizhuo’s very own foundation.
Stunned for a moment, Shen Shu belatedly reached out his hand, carefully sensing the underlying rhythm of the sea of consciousness. Whether it was the pale gray spiritual energy or the bone-chilling black mist, both rose and fell in perfect unison, moving in accord with Pei Zizhuo’s will.
Shen Shu was certain that what resided within Pei Zizhuo’s dantian was a golden core, not a demonic core. Yet it was equally true that both baleful energy and spiritual energy coexisted within him, churning his sea of consciousness into absolute turmoil.
What sort of bizarre technique was this? This went entirely beyond comprehension. Shen Shu was baffled, yet he knew that if this baleful energy lingered inside him for long, any hope of Pei Zizhuo ascending to immortality would be nothing more than a pipe dream.
Whether out of a desire to complete his mission or pure sympathy for Pei Zizhuo, Shen Shu wanted to help relieve it.
It was already a miracle that this man had not gone mad despite being deprived of restful sleep day after day. Aside from his refusal to keep his clothes on properly, Pei Zizhuo showed no other strange tendencies, enduring everything in silence just as he had stubbornly withstood the agonizing pain of bone-setting, with no one knowing who he was secretly competing against.
Shen Shu had a natural penchant for worrying over others, so he left behind a portion of his true fire, embedding it within Pei Zizhuo’s sea of consciousness.
The Red Lotus True Fire was of the utmost purity and yang essence. The moment it appeared, it cleansed a pristine, tranquil expanse within the gloom, radiating flawless, warm light like a beacon piercing through the pitch-black night.
Just as he intended to take advantage of Pei Zizhuo’s slumber to investigate further, a familiar greeting suddenly came from outside the door: “Dearest Ling Shu, I have come to see you!”
It turned out to be Immortal Lord Wuling. Shen Shu extracted himself from the sea of consciousness. Seeing Pei Zizhuo still fast asleep with his brows visibly relaxed, he let out a sigh of relief and stepped out to welcome his friend.
Immortal Lord Wuling was the head disciple under the Peacock Wisdom King, and his true form was likewise a peacock. Though he had attained immortality many years ago, he still could not shed his inherent nature. He adored all things exquisite, whether people or objects.
His residence was built to be even more magnificent than the Heavenly Emperor’s palace. All of his attire was woven by the Heavenly Weaving Maidens of the Nine Heavens, inlaid with radiant plumes of a hundred birds and celestial silk brocade. Every single garment was vividly colorful and exceptionally eye-catching, letting anyone tell at a single glance that he was a peacock turned immortal.
Thus, when Shen Shu pushed open the door and saw Immortal Lord Wuling holding a wine jar while clad entirely in plain white, his jaw dropped in utter astonishment: “Why are you dressed like this?”
Immortal Lord Wuling turned around with his signature beam. Catching sight of Shen Shu, who was brimming with surging immortal energy, he nearly dropped the wine jar: “Why did you descend to the mortal realm looking like this?”
“Were you finally punished by the Heavenly Emperor?” Shen Shu asked with deep concern, having paid no mind to what Wuling had just said.
“Nonsense! I came to the Divine Continent to share a drink with you. Why would I wear those flashy feathered robes? Just to announce to the world that an immortal has arrived?” Wuling twirled a peacock feather between his fingers, conjuring a four-cornered glazed multi-eaved pavilion before the small building. Setting the wine jar down, he pressed on like an interrogator: “Why in the world did you descend to the mortal realm looking like this?”
Shen Shu took a look at himself. His face was clean, his clothes were tidy, and his shoes were spotless white. He saw nothing wrong: “What is the matter with me?”
Wuling shook his head and sighed repeatedly: “Everything is too right! You are brimming with immortal energy, and your demeanor is utterly ethereal and detached from the mortal world. Anyone can see at a glance that you are an incomparable grandmaster of this age.”
Shen Shu blushed, immediately realizing the crux of the problem. He had already undergone tribulation and ascended to immortality. Regardless of how long his path had lasted, he was an immortal who had stepped beyond the cycle of reincarnation and outside the Five Elements.
To descend to the mortal realm so openly and unabashedly to pose as an ordinary cultivator, without being discovered by Pei Zizhuo, was truly a miracle.
He rubbed his nose and readily admitted his fault: “It was my oversight. Does Immortal Lord Wuling know of any method to seal spiritual meridians?”
Wuling did not hold back his guidance, instructing him until he had sealed seventy percent of his cultivation. Seeing that Shen Shu still carried that otherworldly air, Wuling could not help reaching out to drape an arm over his shoulder: “Dearest Ling Shu, this demeanor of yours is far too endearing. Try to be a bit more vulgar.”
Shen Shu was stunned: “Vulgar?”
Wuling replied: “Slouch your back, swagger about, and just act as crass as possible.”
Before he even finished speaking, he had already begun using his hands, clasping Shen Shu’s waist and patting his back, making a posture to bend this straight, bamboo-like figure.
“Which fellow cultivator is this?” A cold voice sounded from behind, neither loud nor soft. “A guest arrives and I am left unaware. Would that not be far too impolite?”
Pei Zizhuo was leaning against the doorframe of the small building, eyeing the two figures embracing in the pavilion with a sideways glance. His facial expression was unreadable, and his tone was thoroughly aloof.
Following the sound, Immortal Lord Wuling’s eyes widened in amazement, his ears turning red. He leaned in and whispered to Shen Shu: “Is this style of dress popular in the Divine Continent nowadays? Deliberately wearing clothes a size too small to bare the chest?”
Shen Shu was greatly alarmed. How could he have anticipated that Pei Zizhuo would wake up so early? Given Wuling’s habit of becoming rooted to the spot whenever he saw a beauty, Pei Zizhuo was bound to be entangled by him sooner or later.
He quickly shielded Wuling’s leering gaze, took off his outer robe, and sent it floating toward Pei Zizhuo’s shoulders like a long scarf, concealing the exposed scenery.
Shen Shu warned in a low whisper: “He is the target of my mission. Rein yourself in.”
The two of them whispered closely in the pavilion. From a distance, they looked like an affectionate pair sharing sweet nothings. Pei Zizhuo narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing deeply as he stared at Shen Shu’s unguarded intimacy.
Hearing that it was a mission concerning the Extreme Yang Palace, Wuling straightened up with a trace of seriousness. He adjusted his collar and said: “Then I must go greet him. One cannot neglect immortal etiquette.”
Shen Shu was left completely at a loss for words.
Wearing a smile as gentle as a spring breeze, Wuling walked straight up to Pei Zizhuo, completely ignoring the fact that Pei Zizhuo’s brows had knitted into a tight knot: “I am Wuling, a rogue cultivator from Mount Putuo. Greetings, fellow cultivator. Might I inquire about your esteemed title?”
Pei Zizhuo took two quiet steps back, replying coldly: “A nameless rogue cultivator, unworthy of mention.”
How could anyone chosen by the White Bamboo Slips of Destiny be a nameless nobody? This blatant brush-off did not dampen Wuling’s enthusiasm in the least. He retrieved a set of Nine Clouds Golden Crow Black Armor from his universe bag and said with great consideration: “Although this is our first meeting, I feel a rare affinity with you. This is merely a Heaven-grade protective armor. I hope you will not look down on it, as it is only a humble token of my regard.”
This trick again. Shen Shu could not bear to watch and buried his face in his hand. When he had first met Wuling, he had also been given a meeting gift, a Sacred Water-Repelling Pearl.
Having grown up on the land in the Divine Continent, Shen Shu was terrible in water, and the gift had hit the mark perfectly, albeit being far too lavish. After repeatedly declining to no avail, he had no choice but to accept it, giving in return some Snow Lotus Celestial Dew brought from the Sifang Pavilion.
Seeing Wuling repeat the same trick, and offering precisely what Pei Zizhuo needed most, Shen Shu did not interfere. He himself had descended to the mortal realm without even sealing his meridians. When it came to gauging propriety and social finesse, Wuling was vastly superior to him, so there was naturally no need to worry.
Heaven-grade protective armor was something one could search for with lanterns and still fail to find. Given Pei Zizhuo’s current plight, he had no reason to refuse. Wuling held it up before his eyes, inwardly convinced that the outcome was settled.
Pei Zizhuo, however, let out a soft laugh: “Since you already know this is merely a Heaven-grade piece of gear, why bother presenting it to make a fool of yourself?”
His tone was entirely like that of an extravagantly wealthy upstart who sneered at such petty favors.
The smile on Wuling’s face froze. It was awkward to take the black armor back, and just as awkward to leave it there. He let out a dry chuckle: “Pardon me. Having resided in Penglai for so long, I was unaware that the Divine Continent had become so wealthy and extravagant. It is my shortsightedness. However, once the black armor is offered, there is no reason to take it back. If you do not want it, let this armor return to the furnace to be reforged.”
As soon as the words fell, Wuling made a gesture to destroy the black armor. Peeking out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Pei Zizhuo still looked on with detached amusement, and he could not help mourning for the armor.
Although it was not Shen Shu’s item, watching it happen pained his heart immensely. He leapt forward, rescuing the black armor from the scalding immortal flames and clutching it to his chest like a treasure: “A completed artifact must not be ruined, a truth even children understand! You two grand immortals, having lived for hundreds of years, would destroy such a treasure on a whim just to win a verbal dispute. What tremendous capability you both show!”
Wuling had not anticipated that Shen Shu would become so furious. Unable to recall his immortal art in time, the tongues of fire licked across Shen Shu’s palm, leaving a gruesome bloody burn mark.
“Dearest, you are hurt!”
Wuling reacted with lightning speed. Pulling out a white silk handkerchief, he wrapped it around Shen Shu’s palm, admitting his fault with a look of heartache: “It is all my fault. Please do not be angry, dearest. How about I leave this black armor with you to keep? Next time, I will never do such a thing again.”
With a resounding bang, the door of the small building was slammed shut.
Both stood frozen in silence.
“Eh?” Wuling paused in bewilderment. His eyes darted back and forth between the wooden door and Shen Shu before he suddenly pieced it together, letting out a low, mischievous chuckle: “Dearest Ling Shu, we seem to have been misunderstood.”
Carrying a bout of nameless anger, Pei Zizhuo hurled the outer robe from his neck onto the ground and threw himself back onto the couch.
Just how precious was that black armor that he had to snatch it from the blazing flames with bare hands? A scorched black mark was seared onto that snow-white palm, and the bright blood was startlingly crimson. How painful must that be?
Pei Zizhuo knitted his brows and cursed inwardly. That was merely Danxiao being affectionate with his pretentious paramour. It had nothing to do with him either way. Why was he working himself into such an indignant temper here?
Tossing and turning, he produced that icy blade and calmed down to reflect. Why was his heart so agitated? Could Danxiao have inadvertently afflicted him with some kind of pill gu?
Even the illusions of night terrors had failed to shake him in the slightest. Could Danxiao truly possess such formidable means?
The icy blade glinted with a cold sheen in his grasp, reflecting a pair of brooding, sunken eyes.