"Wake up, wake up, you bastard!"
Xiao Jinjin watched in growing alarm as Shen Fu's breathing grew increasingly rapid, his face turning red as if he couldn't catch his breath. Panic began to set in.
But Xiao Jinjin had no real weight to speak of—even bouncing up and down on Shen Fu's body, there was no way to rouse him.
Seeing Shen Fu's brows furrowed tightly, mouth wide open yet lips growing redder, clearly unable to breathe, Xiao Jinjin was nearly frantic.
"What's going on? Why can't I probe his consciousness?" Xiao Jinjin worked himself into a sweat, and finally, with no other option, steeled himself to cast a Protective Spell on Shen Fu before rushing out the door and heading straight for the Hall of Miraculous Prescriptions.
The dark hall doors were shut tight. Xie Jiuzhang sat in the main seat, listening to Yin Congyue talk about Cheng Ping while his brows remained knitted, fingers tapping incessantly against the table.
"So you're saying this matter actually forced your uncle Yin Zhenyue to emerge from seclusion early and personally investigate Li Family Village?" Xie Jiuzhang's face was full of worry, his brows so tightly drawn they could crush a fly.
"Yes," Yin Congyue opened his mouth to accept the tangerine Jiang Lin had personally peeled for him, chewing quickly. "That was an entire Dongxu Sect, plus several hundred villagers of Li Family Village—all dead in a single night."
Yin Congyue thought for a moment, then added: "Because so many people died, a mass of vengeful spirits gathered near the village. If my uncle hadn't arrived in time, those undead would likely have all escaped to cause chaos."
Hearing this, the expressions on Xie Jiuzhang's and Jiang Lin's faces grew somber.
Massacring an entire village and wiping out a sect—such things hadn't happened in centuries since the founding of the Immortal Alliance. A single wronged spirit was enough to wreak havoc on a region; one could hardly imagine the disaster that hundreds of vengeful spirits appearing at once would bring.
Moreover, among those spirits were the members of Dongxu Sect. Cultivators who died and became undead were often more powerful in attack and harder to kill.
No wonder Yin Zhenyue had to go personally—other than him, there was probably no one else in the entire cultivation world who could suppress that many undead.
"Uncle not only temporarily contained the spirits within Li Family Village, but also personally went in and brought someone out," Yin Congyue said.
"Who?" Xie Jiuzhang asked in a low voice.
Yin Congyue pressed his lips together, then reached down and produced a Spirit-Binding Rope.
On the rope, a faint human figure was visible. The person's chest had been pierced through by something, a bloody gaping hole hanging hollowly there, looking extremely gruesome.
"This man is named Cao Zhenhui, Cheng Ping's chief disciple. He's also the only victim from the entire Dongxu Sect whose corpse remained intact."
Jiang Lin and Xie Jiuzhang both looked at the soul on the Spirit-Binding Rope almost simultaneously, disbelief clear in their eyes.
"What do you mean 'intact'? What about the others?" Jiang Lin asked.
"Decapitated, remains burned to ashes—you could barely piece together a single complete body, including Cheng Ping's." Yin Congyue explained. Seeing the two still looking grim, he continued: "Uncle used the Spirit-Tracing Technique and drew out a wisp of residual mana from him. That mana pointed toward Xuanji Mountain."
"More precisely, toward Shen Fu."
Hearing this, Xie Jiuzhang almost instinctively refuted: "Impossible."
"Huh?" Yin Congyue looked up at Xie Jiuzhang. "Why?"
"If you're saying you identified Shen Fu through residual mana, that's absolutely impossible. Shen Fu doesn't have a spiritual root at all—how could he have mana?"
His words left Yin Congyue and Jiang Lin both frozen in place. Jiang Lin's brows furrowed deeply, as if there was something he wanted to say, but seeing Xie Jiuzhang's poor expression, he wisely kept his mouth shut.
Yin Congyue opened his mouth to ask more, but suddenly sensed an unfamiliar fluctuation of mana in the air.
Almost instinctively, he drew his sword, meeting head-on with Xiao Jinjin as he came flying in.
The blade's cold light blazed as it slashed straight toward Xiao Jinjin's face, but Xiao Jinjin passed straight through the sword's body, transforming into a ball of light that slammed into Xie Jiuzhang's chest.
"Senior Brother, please save Shen Fu—he's about to die again!"
Yin Congyue sheathed his sword and turned, frowning at the ball of light now cradled in Xie Jiuzhang's hands. "What is this?"
But Xie Jiuzhang had no time to explain. He tossed out a line—"Jiang Lin, you explain."—and vanished on the spot with Xiao Jinjin.
"Huh?" Jiang Lin glanced at Yin Congyue, and his ears instantly turned red. "M-Me?"
His only answer was the thunderous slam of the hall doors opening and closing.
Bang.
Shen Fu rolled off the bed.
His eyes remained tightly shut. On the exposed section of his forearm, the glaring Blood Trace faintly emitted an ominous glow in the darkness.
A thin layer of cold sweat had already seeped across his smooth forehead. His long, butterfly-tail-like lashes trembled gently, traces of tears glimmering within.
"No—Ji Yanzhi, you're—you're insane, mmph!" Shen Fu's fingers suddenly clenched, gripping so hard they turned white.
Ji Yanzhi stood outside the door, utterly unmoved even as he heard Shen Fu call his name. He merely rubbed his fingertips, his gaze passing through the paper window to the scene on the bed.
Shen Fu's hair was disheveled, his clothes loosened from violent struggling. The thin, blue-green gauze draped over his fair, flushed skin offered no concealment whatsoever.
Sweat on his forehead mingled with his long hair, clinging damply to his face. His rosy lips parted wide as he continuously called out Ji Yanzhi's name.
Ji Yanzhi's eyes burned at the sight, yet his heart remained a stagnant pool.
So… was this dream about me a spring dream or a nightmare?
He raised a hand faintly, giving a light squeeze toward the figure's neck on the bed.
The next second, a gust of fierce wind swept past him, flinging open the door.
Ji Yanzhi watched Xie Jiuzhang's silhouette flash by, frowning in displeasure before calmly stepping in after him.
Xie Jiuzhang had already lifted Shen Fu and laid him back on the bed. He grasped Shen Fu's hand, his gaze landing on that Blood Trace.
"It's flaring up again—why is it so severe this time?" Seeing this, Xie Jiuzhang decisively cut his own finger and drew a talisman on Shen Fu's arm with his blood.
As the talisman took effect, the restless Blood Trace refused to be suppressed, stubbornly resisting. Xie Jiuzhang sensed something was wrong and immediately channeled his full mana into his fingertips.
Unable to withstand such a violent clash, Shen Fu spat out a mouthful of fresh blood.
Xie Jiuzhang realized something was off and tried to withdraw, but it was already too late. The Blood Trace, born of some unknown demon, actually managed to reverse the flow under such overwhelming mana pressure, siphoning mana from Xie Jiuzhang's body for its own use.
By the time Xie Jiuzhang came to his senses, he could no longer escape the Blood Trace's grip.
Just as he was at his wit's end, the hand firmly locked in place was suddenly seized by someone else.
There was clearly no mana fluctuation, yet Xie Jiuzhang's hand was easily pulled away from Shen Fu.
"Patriarch, your hand is bleeding." Ji Yanzhi's voice came from above, snapping Xie Jiuzhang out of his shock.
At the same time, Shen Fu, who had been leaning against Xie Jiuzhang, quieted down. The Blood Trace on his hand no longer emitted that chilling red glow but returned to its usual calm, lying obediently against Shen Fu's arm like a harmless tattoo.
"Stop the bleeding first." After saying this, Ji Yanzhi sat down on the bed on his own accord and casually took Shen Fu from Xie Jiuzhang's arms.
"You…" Xie Jiuzhang seemed about to say something but swallowed the words.
Ji Yanzhi held Shen Fu, one hand dropping down to grip Shen Fu's fingers, forcefully prying them apart before sliding his own between them.
Xie Jiuzhang caught a glimpse of his movement and couldn't help but ask, "What are you doing?"
"Doing what I ought to do as a furnace cauldron."
As Ji Yanzhi spoke, his palm suddenly exerted force, and the Blood Trace visibly faded considerably in an instant.
The Cauldron Mark on the back of Ji Yanzhi's hand grew faintly warm, and after a moment, it too took on a light pink hue, while Ji Yanzhi's complexion grew paler and paler.
"You're using your own lifespan to detoxify him?" Xie Jiuzhang could hardly believe his eyes. "Are you insane?"
As if sensing something, a gleam of unsettling excitement flashed through Ji Yanzhi's eyes. "If anything happens to Master, I could never live on alone. What is a little lifespan compared to that?"
With that, Ji Yanzhi silently withdrew his mana but did not pull his hand away from Shen Fu's palm, maintaining their interlocked fingers as he lowered his head and called out, "Master, wake up."
His words fell like a spell, and the moment they landed, Shen Fu jolted awake from his nightmare. It was as if he had just been dragged up from the depths of the sea—fresh air rushed into his lungs all at once, and he gasped for breath, cold sweat rolling down his forehead in large beads.
Ji Yanzhi gently patted his back, carefully soothing him, but the instant Ji Yanzhi touched him, Shen Fu let out a startled cry and scrambled frantically to hide behind Xie Jiuzhang.
"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!" Only with Xie Jiuzhang shielding him did Shen Fu regain some sense of reality.
He clung desperately to Xie Jiuzhang's sleeve, hiding himself completely.
Too terrifying. Absolutely too terrifying. Why would he dream about kissing Ji Yanzhi?
Was this his humanity withering away from years of solitude, or was this damned Blood Trace subjecting him to some kind of inhumane punishment?
If he had committed a crime, just strike him dead directly—don't make him wake up from a nightmare like that only to find himself lying in Ji Yanzhi's arms!
Shen Fu, still shaken, hid beneath Xie Jiuzhang's wide sleeve to collect himself, completely unaware that Ji Yanzhi across from him was still holding the position from when he'd embraced Shen Fu, his face instantly darkening like the bottom of a pot.
Xie Jiuzhang blinked a few times, looking from one to the other, momentarily at a loss as to what the two of them were doing.
After what seemed like an eternity, Ji Yanzhi slowly lowered his hands, then lifted his eyelids and shot a deep, lingering look at Shen Fu hiding behind Xie Jiuzhang.
"Master doesn't wish to see me. Then this disciple will go wait outside. If Master needs me, just call."
Shen Fu didn't respond, so Ji Yanzhi left, looking back every few steps.
Xie Jiuzhang still couldn't make heads or tails of what was going on, so after Ji Yanzhi left, he dragged out the person hiding behind him and set him down in front of himself.
"They're gone now, so what exactly did you—"
Before he could finish, Shen Fu pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. "Put up a sound-proofing spell, Senior Brother." Shen Fu lowered his voice, speaking just loud enough for the two of them to hear.
Seeing how tense he was, Xie Jiuzhang simply waved his hand and cast a barrier—no one outside could enter without his permission, nor could they hear anything happening within.
Only after confirming he was safe did Shen Fu finally let out a huge sigh of relief.
"Is it the Blood Trace? Why did it flare up so badly this time?" Xie Jiuzhang asked.
But Shen Fu's mind was clearly elsewhere. He grabbed Xie Jiuzhang's arm in a panic, his grip so tight his nails nearly dug into the flesh.
"Senior Brother, let's run away. Let's take the gold and treasures from the back mountain and go far, far away, okay? I'm begging you."