As expected, upon hearing Chu Ling’s request to send a letter home to report his safety, Ji Wuyuan smiled and ruffled the youth’s silky black hair, offering no objection.
He even took the initiative to help, summoning a subordinate to take the letter. In front of Chu Ling, he commanded the man to guard it with his life and deliver it as quickly as possible to Old Master Chu of the Sword Casting Villa.
However, that same night, this letter—saturated with Young Master Chu’s true feelings—first appeared on the desk of the Master of the Demonic Cult.
Dressed in his dark, luxurious robes, Ji Wuyuan leaned his head slightly to the side, his elbow propped on the desk supporting his handsome face. His gaze was lowered, scanning the dozen pages of Xuan paper spread across the table.
They say one’s handwriting reveals their character. This flowing, elegant script, with its bold strokes and refined poise, brought to mind a noble and free-spirited gentleman, much like the clear wind and bright moon. It was a slight contrast to the youth’s purely beautiful and delicate appearance.
On second thought, perhaps it represented the youth’s inner heart—the young, reckless, and chivalrous soul that yearned to roam the martial world with a sword. After all, that was why he had run away from home.
Little did he know, Young Master Chu had subconsciously emulated the handwriting of the person he admired. It wasn’t a “chivalrous heart” as much as it was a heart full of devoted love.
But for now, Ji Wuyuan was unaware of this. As he gazed at the pages, he felt as if he could see the spirited youth chasing his dreams of heroism, his innocent and quirky personality leaping off the paper. Unconsciously, the corners of his lips curled upward.
He read for a long time, his pace slowing until more than fifteen minutes had passed. Only then did he turn to the final page and reach the last word.
Deep within his lowered eyes, a flicker of a smile appeared, like ripples on a dead-still lake. There was even a trace of watery tenderness that he himself had not yet fully recognized…
“Send it to the Sword Casting Villa,” he said softly, his deep, magnetic voice carrying a strange charm.
In the seemingly empty room, a cold, respectful response rang out: “Yes!”
…
The Letter Arrives
It took only a day and a half for the letter to be delivered via express courier to the Sword Casting Villa.
When the retainers saw Young Master Chu’s signature and familiar handwriting, they were shocked and immediately rushed it to the eldest son, Chu Xiangtian—the only family member currently at the Villa.
Chu Xiangtian was equally surprised, his expression turning solemn as he tore the letter open. Before he could even read the contents, a golden longevity lock slid out from the envelope.
He froze for a second, then lunged to catch it in his palm.
His brow furrowed tightly as he traced the familiar scratches on the lock. This was a piece his brother had worn since childhood; it was a memento left by their mother before she passed. Its significance was immeasurable.
If the lock was here, then his brother…
A cold, murderous intent erupted in Chu Xiangtian’s eyes toward the Demonic Cult that had abducted his sibling.
However, as his trembling fingers unfurled the rest of the letter, he saw his brother’s unmistakable script. There was not a single word suggesting abuse or mistreatment. The mountain-like weight on his heart slowly began to lift.
He read the dozen pages with a focused intensity, finally exhaling a long breath of relief.
It was definitely his brother! The lighthearted tone and quirky phrasing proved that his current situation was exactly as he described—safe and sound!
Yet, Chu Xiangtian frowned, a trace of disbelief flashing in his eyes. That “Ghost Mask” of the Demonic Cult really hit it off with my brother? He has no intention of harming him?
Thinking of something, Chu Xiangtian quickly gathered the letter, strode out of the room, and barked an order: “Ready my horse!”
He was going to the Martial Arts Alliance.
…
Revelation at the Alliance
Old Master Chu had remained at the Alliance since Jun Yichen’s inauguration.
When Chu Xiangtian arrived at top speed, he didn’t even have time to acknowledge the greetings of the guards. He flipped off his horse and sprinted inside, leaving a wake of stunned looks.
In a side hall, the new Leader Jun Yichen was discussing matters with Old Master Chu and several sect leaders.
A loud, jubilant cry of “Father! A letter from Little Brother!” interrupted them. Chu Xiangtian burst into the room, his breath ragged.
Old Master Chu and Jun Yichen both stood up abruptly. The former, his old eyes wide, snatched the letter from his son’s hand.
“Father,” Chu Xiangtian panted, pulling the golden lock from his robes. “This was inside. It’s the longevity lock. Look.”
Old Master Chu nearly broke into tears. Seeing the reassurances in the letter, every stroke of the brush reflecting his son’s spirited personality—and the unique little hook at the end of the signature that only he knew—confirmed its authenticity.
Gripping the lock tightly, the old man cursed through his tears, “That brat… he’s going to be the death of me!”
Jun Yichen, seeing this, felt his own tension ease. He smiled to soften the atmosphere. “Uncle, Brother Chu, what is this?”
The other sect leaders leaned in. “Old Master Chu, is it a letter from your son?” “Does it say he’s in danger?” “Does the Demonic Cult really intend to unify the world?”
That last question caused the room to go silent.
To be honest, attacking the Demonic Cult was a desperate measure of self-defense. If the Cult truly harbored such ambitions, every sect would be at risk. But if that was just a rumor based on the kidnapping of a single boy, then their frantic preparations were starting to look like a joke.
Seeing the shift in the room, Jun Yichen smoothed things over. “Everyone, please be patient. Uncle will explain everything.”
He nodded to Old Master Chu, who simply handed the letter over. Jun Yichen read it page by page, his heart relaxing more with every word. Like Chu Xiangtian, he finally let out a full breath of relief.
Then, the letter Chu Ling had meticulously crafted was passed around among the various sect leaders. If he knew his “private” letter was being read by the entire Righteous Path leadership, he might have died of embarrassment on the spot.
Once they finished, the leaders all smiled and congratulated Old Master Chu.
“It was just a false alarm!” “Your son is truly blessed!” “Who would have thought your boy could get along so well with someone from the Demonic Cult!”
There was a hint of irony in that last comment. Whether they were annoyed or genuinely impressed by the boy’s lack of discrimination, Old Master Chu could only nod with a forced smile.
“It seems the ‘unification’ rumor was a joke.” “We were just overly paranoid.” “This is for the best; it saves the lives of countless heroes.”
Relieved of the threat of total war, the sect leaders began to disperse, returning to their usual states of calculated calm. Before leaving, however, they offered veiled warnings: “Your son is naive. Don’t let him be deceived by the Cult. It’s best that he breaks ties with them soon…”
Old Master Chu nodded firmly. “When that brat gets back, I’m going to break his legs to see if he ever dares do this again!”
Once the others left, Chu Xiangtian leaned in worriedly. “Father, you’re really going to break his legs? How about I punish him? He’s always been afraid of pain…”
He was cut off by a sharp rap to the head. Old Master Chu hissed, “You idiot, I was just saying that!”
“Oh, oh, I see.” Chu Xiangtian rubbed his head, grinning like a fool.
Jun Yichen watched with relief, his smile broad. However, a thought occurred to him, and his expression sobered. He stepped forward and waved away the remaining attendants, leaving only himself, Old Master Chu, and Chu Xiangtian.
“Uncle.”
“What is it, Nephew?” Old Master Chu asked, still riding the high of the good news.
Jun Yichen’s face was grave. “According to Chu Ling’s letter, he met this ‘Ghost Mask’ by chance and they hit it off. He’s being treated well and isn’t a prisoner… If this is true, it means the Demonic Cult likely hasn’t discovered his special constitution yet.”
He paused. “But we cannot be complacent. The longer he stays there, the higher the risk of exposure. Uncle, you understand, don’t you?”
The smile vanished from Old Master Chu’s face. The heavy sorrow returned to his eyes. He opened his mouth and said urgently, “I’ll send him a message immediately! Tell him to come home now!”
Jun Yichen cut in, “It’s best if someone meets him halfway to prevent the Cult from interfering. If you trust me, I can arrange the extraction—”
Old Master Chu nodded solemnly.
Meanwhile, Chu Xiangtian was utterly lost. “Wait, Father, Leader… what are you talking about? What ‘special constitution’? What’s that?”
Jun Yichen looked at the old man. He doesn’t know?
Old Master Chu shook his head. Something this important was meant to be kept secret. But now that the cat was out of the bag and Xiangtian was family, he wouldn’t hide it anymore.
“Your brother has a Pure Yin Constitution… the body of a Furnace. Any martial artist would go mad for it. Do you understand?”
Chu Xiangtian stood dumbfounded. He knew exactly what that meant. Such a constitution appeared once in a thousand years. Its discovery would spark a bloodbath in the martial world more intense than the fight for a legendary manual.
And in the end, those with such bodies usually met a horrific and tragic end…
His brother… was a Furnace?!
Old Master Chu sighed, his heart full of bitterness.
Suddenly, Jun Yichen whipped his head around, his sharp gaze piercing toward a window.
“Who’s there!?”
The dazed Chu Xiangtian reacted with lightning speed. In a flash, he reached the window, his hand smashing through the paper. Blindly, he grabbed the eavesdropper by the throat and yanked them into the hall—
“Ugh…”
The person, caught in a death grip, had absolutely no martial arts. They crashed onto the floor before the three men.
When they saw the familiar face and the pained expression, Old Master Chu gasped. Jun Yichen blurted out in shock: “Brother Qing? Why is it you?!”
…
Jun Qing hadn’t expected this. He had simply felt a whim to explore the home that felt both familiar and strange in his memories, and he had accidentally overheard a secret he wasn’t supposed to know.
That beautiful boy… was a Furnace?
He might not have understood “Pure Yin Constitution,” but after being baptized by modern web novels, the word “Furnace” was all too familiar. Usually, it was a trope used in R-18 stories for “plot” reasons—something readers enjoyed as fiction from behind a screen.
But in reality?
Jun Qing didn’t dare imagine it. He stood up, rubbing his aching throat, his voice slightly raspy. “I will keep this a secret. I’m sorry.”
He realized he seemed to have a “Golden Finger”—a cheat ability. He had approached silently, undetected by three high-level martial artists, until a momentary lapse in focus allowed Jun Yichen to sense him.
A stealth ability? Reducing presence?
After a pause, he added quietly, “Perhaps… I can help.”
He could likely approach that beautiful boy without a sound and lead him out of the Demonic Cult… right?