“Didn’t I send a sound transmission telling you to stall him?”
With his folding fan closed, Jian Zhiwei slumped in a chair, his scalp tingling just thinking about the cold expression Bai Chen had worn moments ago.
Immortal Wuqing sat beside him and shot him a sideways glance.
“It was bound to be kept under wraps for only so long anyway. Where is Shen Yuze? How on earth do the two of you manage things around here!”
Xinjing Mountain’s affairs were entirely managed by Shen Yuze. As for Wuqing himself, he was an idle immortal who never had the energy to mind a bunch of mischievous rascals. This time, things had truly blown up a bit too far, nearly endangering a life.
Feeling in the wrong, Jian Zhiwei shifted the blame entirely onto his senior brother.
“I don’t know, Shen Yuze handles all these trivial administrative matters. He probably didn’t take it seriously and slacked off—right now, he’s busy overseeing the punishment for the disciples.”
Could Immortal Wuqing not know what his second disciple was like? His character left much to be desired, and he was naturally footloose and unfocused. It was only thanks to his exceptional spiritual root and talent that he wasn’t like a fish swimming aimlessly in a stream leaving no trace behind.
He let out a cold hum, stroking his wine gourd with a look of annoyance.
“It’s not over yet. Couldn’t you have told him to go easy on them? Everyone sent into the mountains for cultivation is either the core pillar of a minor sect or the beloved son or daughter of someone important isn’t this just asking to stir up a source of endless conflict?”
“Right! There aren’t any female cultivators among them, are there?”
That old man only had a booming voice whenever he acted as a teacher. Pressing a hand against his temple, Jian Zhiwei used his folding fan to massage the area.
“No, no, rest assured. Shen Yuze is like a mountain stiff and rigid as death itself. Asking him to go easy on them is like asking you to blow up a mountain instead.”
“Now that you old man realize the trouble of conflicts, why couldn’t you manage to keep Bai Chen from leaving? Getting old really has made your wine-brewing skills slip, hasn’t it?”
“Injured on the front end, and he rushes over on the back end—faster than a sound transmission talisman.”
Immortal Wuqing was thoroughly infuriated, but could he really be blamed for this?! Was Bai Yichen his personal disciple or something?
“I’m still your master! So devoid of respect, lacking any proper posture, daring to lecture your own master to his face! You rotten little brat…”
Unfolding his fan, Jian Zhiwei fanned the air to the side with a cheeky grin.
“I can’t be blamed for this. You only taught Shen Yuze and didn’t teach me, did you? My senior brother never told me about respecting teachers and honoring the Dao—do you expect me to believe it?”
Seeing that the old man was about to strike, he immediately snapped his folding fan open and fawned with obsequious fanning to beg for mercy.
“Calm your anger, Master! I’ll fan you a breeze, otherwise you might catch fire in a minute~”
Immortal Wuqing shoved Jian Zhiwei’s fan away. Catch fire and fan it further? When he originally took in two disciples, one was rigidly bound by rules while the other was utterly untethered.
He was well aware of how annoying he could be, which was why he chose to personally instruct Shen Yuze.
However, he wasn’t biased in the slightest; whatever was given to one was always prepared in a double portion for the other. Even if there was only a single item such as a South Sea luminous pearl or a rare peerless jade brush even if Jian Zhiwei or Shen Yuze claimed they didn’t want it, he would still exert force to snap it in half, giving each of them an equal share.
“Master, you say Immortal Hengchen spent a millennium of cultivation and allowed himself to be pierced by eight nails for his disciple’s sake, yet he could still maintain a completely expressionless face.”
As he spoke, he glanced sideways at the old man beside him, shaking his head continuously.
Immortal Wuqing felt as though he was being obliquely insinuated against. Who was looking down on whom here? He was exceptionally protective of his own disciples as well!
“Mere needles, what’s so big about that? As a master, I can do it too.”
Jian Zhiwei lifted his eyelids with a faint, amused smile.
“Really? Those happen to be Soul-Freezing Silver Needles how many times could Master be pinned?”
Soul-Freezing Silver Needles he could take seven at most; any more than that, and even Guanyin descending to earth would find it hard to save him.
“You’re telling me he took eight freezing needles?!”
The moment Bai Chen had arrived, he had employed the highest-grade secret art—spatial manipulation. The faster the movement, the more severe the toll it took on one’s own spiritual energy.
That was why Xinjing Mountain was still blanketed under heavy storm clouds, defying nature itself and rejected by the Heavenly Dao. The fact that there wasn’t a roaring tempest of heavenly thunder was already the Heavenly Dao turning a blind eye.
“Just how many immortals on Xinjing Mountain are going to be subjected to such mistreatment?!”
Standing up with a grave expression, Immortal Wuqing set off toward Jingzi Mountain, leaving behind strict instructions before departing.
“Pacify the eight sects properly, and when sending those disciples back, you must prepare generous gifts to express our condolences and sympathies.”
“If our condolences yield no results and they insist on stirring up trouble, take care of them quietly behind the scenes.”
… The little old man was as kind-faced and merciless-hearted as ever.
At Jingzi Mountain, inside Immortal Hengchen’s bedchamber: a single bed, a single desk, white gauze draping down to the floor, and bricks of polished green stone acting as mirrors.
Outside the window, bamboo shadows slanted against the wall, a wisp of sandalwood curled within the incense burner, and all else was empty and still.
“Shizun…”
“D-don’t leave…”
The person on the couch had slightly pale lips and fluttering eyelashes, his mind tossed about by the person in his dream as he whimpered anxiously in a low mumble.
Bai Chen had depleted a considerable amount of spiritual power. Sitting cross-legged upon the soft bedding with his eyes closed to recover, he caught the movement from the person on the bed, his expression shifting slightly. Lowering his hands from meditation, he opened his eyes and instantly materialized beside the couch, reaching out to lift the canopy curtains and seating himself right beside his disciple.
Curving his fingers, he probed the unstable brow of the boy.
The biting cold pillow-scent bore a resemblance to his gentle Shizun.
Tu Xiao felt a refreshing stream of pure energy flowing through his entire body, as though his battered frame which had felt crushed under ghost-paralysis—was being repaired bit by bit.
Within that misty, pitch-black realm, Shizun had halted his pace, seeming as though he might turn back rather than leave.
In a daze, he struggled to pry open his eyes, and the sight greeting his vision was truly, genuinely Shizun.
“I-is it… Shizun?”
The moment he spoke, he discovered that his voice had morphed into a duck-like tone, sounding both raspy and sticky.
Seeing that his disciple had awakened and was capable of speech, the expression of constant gloom that had weighed upon Bai Chen’s face all this time unconsciously smoothed out significantly.
Bai Chen retrieved a small white jade vial from his storage pouch; it contained morning dew from the Heavenly Mountain snow lotus, which could replenish moisture and spiritual energy. Naturally, compared to a real snow lotus, it still fell short of comparison.
Tu Xiao stared in a daze. Shizun rarely smiled, but when he did, it was like a spring breeze brushing across his face or a rainbow appearing after rain.
He was being treated tenderly by Shizun, receiving both water and gentle care, while the lingering moisture on his lips was carefully patted dry.
If this was a dream, he loved the Shizun in his dreams.
Growing bolder, Tu Xiao burrowed straight into Shizun’s embrace, intending to soak in the warmth he hadn’t felt in so long. Sensing a movement as if the other intended to push him away, he wrapped his arms even tighter around him, issuing a aggrieved, pitiful threat:
“You aren’t allowed to dodge, bad Shizun. If you had waited until you came back, the grass on my grave probably would have grown quite tall already.”
“The supreme immortal of the cultivation world, yet he managed to starve his own disciple to death. I must be the single flaw in your otherwise glorious, flawless record—failing even to protect myself, yet dreaming of protecting the people I want to protect…”
Amidst his sorrow, his eyes grew hot, and rubbing against the fabric, he began to complain through mumbles once more.
“When you weren’t here, they all bullied me.”
“They, they said you didn’t want me anymore. When I refused to believe it and went to argue with them, they beat me up. I was almost beaten to death, yet you still didn’t come, Shizun…”
“I… I’m sorry, Xiao.”
An unimaginably apologetic voice drifted directly into his ear. Unable to believe his ears, Tu Xiao raised his head to meet Shizun’s gentle, jade-like countenance, wherein a trace of sorrow lingered was that heartache for him?
As the saying went, dreams really did have everything you could ever want.
“From now on, Shizun will always be by your side and won’t leave.”
Tu Xiao nodded heavily, though feeling something wasn’t quite right, he asked: “Can we add a time limit to that?”
“Mn. Shizun will accompany Xiao forever, never leaving for a lifetime.”
“Alright…”
A bitter taste lingered in Tu Xiao’s heart; if only this were real.
“It would be wonderful if Shizun spoke like this even after waking up.”
Hearing little Xiao’s soft muttering, he realized the kid actually thought he was still dreaming. Just how difficult to approach must he have been to make Xiao dare not believe this was reality?
He truly hadn’t been a good master; safeguarding all living beings under heaven was truly ironic. If he had taken the kid along with him, or returned within a few days like before, perhaps things wouldn’t have reached this state.
As his back was gently patted, Tu Xiao let out a soft hrumph.
“This isn’t a dream, Xiao. Look at me.”
“Not a dream?”
Gazing at the crystal-clear, vivid Shizun and hearing his steady, powerful heartbeat, a person in a dream wouldn’t feel this authentic; it should feel hazy and illusory instead.
However…
“Don’t bite.”
Before the words could fall, Tu Xiao bit down on his lips, tasting a metallic tang of blood. The sharp pain on his lips magnified gradually, while his heartbeat accelerated rapidly.
It wasn’t a dream!!!
It was real!!!
The fingers brushing against his lips were icy, yet the spiritual energy was warm. In the blink of an eye, the wound on his lips healed completely.
Bai Chen gently pinched the dimple on Tu Xiao’s cheek where a smile was beginning to form.
“There’s more than one way to prove a dream—people in dreams don’t have heartbeats, you know.”
“For so long, didn’t you hear it clearly?”
Still immersed in wild euphoria, Tu Xiao nodded and said, “It’s even clearer now, and Shizun must keep his word.”
As Bai Chen gently massaged the smiling, tear-bright eyes of Tu Xiao, he suddenly asked a question.
“It hurt quite a bit back then, didn’t it?”
Taking advantage of Shizun’s heartache to act miserably and play the pitiful card, he was never one to put up a tough front anyway.
“It hurt…”
“It hurt to death, just like having a massive mountain pressing down on you with no way to resist, leaving you with no choice but to wait for death.”
“Fortunately Shizun was there, Shizun saved me.”
“Shizun is my guardian deity, whenever I encounter Shizun, nothing but good things happen.”
“Shizun, don’t leave me behind again.”
Bai Chen’s expression turned obscure and unreadable as he gently patted him rhythmically to soothe the person who looked ready to tear up all over again.
“Shizun will be here from now on, and won’t let you fall into that kind of desperate predicament again unless forced by absolute necessity.”
The barrier of Jingzi Mountain shifted slightly, and Immortal Wuqing’s sound transmission talisman arrived hot on its heels, ostensibly to visit his disciple, though in truth it was far from that.