A rainy night, a ruined temple.
The encounter with the Demonic Sect was unexpected. If it had been any ordinary sect member, it wouldn’t have been so daunting. However, Ghost Mask was different—he was one of the four Great Hall Masters, second only to the Sect Leader.
Thus, as soon as the masked man spoke and showed that he truly didn’t care about them, the three limping, injured brothers who had appeared later vanished into the vast curtain of rain instantly, not wanting to stay a second longer.
Inside the temple, the heavily wounded man, Yan Shuangfei, paused for only a moment. After casting a deep, lingering look at the innocent youth by the fire, he leaped up and vanished into the night.
He had to inform Sword Casting Villa immediately that Young Master Chu had been lured away by the Demonic Sect!
The air grew quiet. Amidst the pitter-patter of the rain outside, only the shattered doors remained as proof that what had just happened was not an illusion.
Ji Wuyuan removed his ghost mask again, revealing his handsome, deep-set features, his lips curving into a slight arc.
Taking in the youth’s hesitant expression, Ji Wuyuan sighed. “I know your identity now, yet I still don’t know yours. Doesn’t that seem a bit unfair?”
This single sentence successfully diverted the youth’s attention. He stopped dwelling on his worries and spoke clearly: “My name is Chu Ling. I am from Sword Casting Villa. Chu Xiangtian is my eldest brother.”
“And you are here because…” Ji Wuyuan guided the conversation with lingering interest.
“I snuck out.” Chu Ling acted sly, though he was really just following the man’s lead.
At this point, the initiative had completely fallen into Chu Ling’s hands.
It could be said that both sides were acting, but Chu Ling was simply the superior performer. He had accomplished the task of infiltrating the Demonic Sect while keeping the upper hand.
The youth then spoke candidly and without reservation. He talked about his yearning for the martial world and his dream of wandering the ends of the earth with a sword, but how his father never allowed him out. He spoke of finally being unable to resist sneaking away—his eyebrows dancing with excitement as he told the tale. Then, he moved on to his encounter with a swindler who stole his luggage and even his sword; his vibrant eyes dimmed as he naturally explained how he ended up in this temple with nothing, nearly starving to death.
“But luckily, I met Big Brother Ghost.”
His low spirits vanished instantly, replaced by a beaming smile as he looked at Ji Wuyuan with shimmering eyes.
Looking into the youth’s eyes, which flickered like a galaxy of starlight reflecting only his own image, Ji Wuyuan felt his fingertips twitch.
Ji Wuyuan narrowed his eyes and smiled, his tone teasing. “Big Brother Ghost?”
The youth tilted his head. “That’s you, sir. Calling you ‘sir’ is too formal. I’ve already agreed to follow you, and I haven’t seen what the Demonic Sect looks like yet.”
“Aren’t you afraid? Rumor has it that the Demonic Sect is a den of vice and evil. Once you enter, you can never leave.”
“Would Big Brother Ghost hurt me?”
It was a laughably naive question. Met with those trusting eyes, Ji Wuyuan leaned in slightly, his fingers gently hooking a lock of black hair falling against the youth’s cheek.
His deep, magnetic voice, seemingly imbued with a strange charm, brushed past the youth’s reddening ear as he chuckled softly.
“Of course… not.”
…
Back at Sword Casting Villa, which had turned into a chaotic mess, Old Master Chu paced back and forth in the main hall with his hands behind his back. It had been three days since the young master went missing.
“Missing” wasn’t exactly accurate. After all, when Young Master Chu vanished, he had left a letter in his room with a line of flamboyant text:
> Father, I am going to wander the ends of the earth with my sword. No need to look for me!
High-spirited and exuberant, one could imagine the excitement in the young master’s heart when he wrote it.
But for Old Master Chu, aside from his anger and worry for his son’s safety, there was a hidden, darker anxiety.
No one knew that Young Master Chu, born at the cost of his mother’s life during a difficult labor, possessed a unique trait: he was a once-in-a-millennium Pure Yin Body, a “holy medicine” for martial artists to reach the Xiantian realm without obstacles.
No one knew this except for the Old Master—not even Chu Ling himself.
He had carefully protected his son for over a decade, never letting him step foot outside the villa. Now, the boy had left home alone, leaving only a letter. How could the Old Master not be anxious?
He feared his son would encounter danger, and he feared the boy’s constitution would be exposed. He was worried sick.
Knowing his son best, the Old Master understood that Chu Ling had been raised to never leave the villa. But as he grew, his heart yearned for the excitement of the martial world. This act of rebellion had likely been building up for a long time.
However, special constitution aside, with the boy’s mediocre martial arts skills—which were practically non-existent—it was impossible for the Old Master to feel at ease.
At the moment, he couldn’t think of much else besides finding his son safely.
Outside the hall, a servant walked in hurriedly. Before he could report, the Old Master cried out in pleasant surprise, “Has Ling’er been found?!”
The servant choked on his words for a moment and lowered his head. “In reply to the Master, there is no news of the Young Master. Young Hero Jun has arrived.”
As he spoke, a figure appeared outside the hall.
With sword-like brows, starry eyes, and a tall, gallant stature, he possessed an air of effortless grace. This was Jun Yichen, the adopted son of the Martial Arts Alliance Leader.
“Uncle!”
As soon as he spoke, he revealed their close relationship—a bond that represented the friendship between the Alliance and the Villa, as if they were one family.
Jun Yichen got straight to the point: “I heard Brother Chu Ling has gone missing. Is this true?”
Old Master Chu nodded helplessly and handed over the letter. “That brat is trying to copy others by ‘wandering the earth.’ He doesn’t even know his own weight.”
After the scolding, worry and affection took over. “I must ask you to mobilize the brothers of the Alliance to help me find him. It’s best if we find him as soon as possible.”
Jun Yichen naturally agreed, comforting him: “Brother Chu Ling left on his own, so his safety shouldn’t be an issue. Please put your mind at ease, Uncle.”
Old Master Chu understood the logic, but he couldn’t explain his specific fears. He could only sigh deeply before chatting with Jun Yichen about the Alliance Leader’s illness.
The Alliance Leader was not dead yet, but he was terminally ill.
His condition was complicated—caused by a mysterious, never-before-seen poison that had been latent in his body for a long time. It had only recently erupted, leaving all doctors helpless.
Jun Yichen had his suspicions. Years ago, his foster father had led heroes to attack the Demonic Sect. Could he have been sabotaged then?
“What about the Divine Doctor? Has he been invited?”
The mention of the Divine Doctor made Jun Yichen’s expression sour. It seemed the situation was grim.
“You know his eccentric nature, Uncle. We’ve invited him three times, but he refuses to treat my father.”
“He took one look at my father and spoke rudely, telling us to prepare for the… funeral. How can I accept that?”
Jun Yichen looked angry, his voice laced with bitterness toward the end.
Old Master Chu seemed to empathize, sighing as he patted Jun Yichen’s shoulder.
“But we must still ask for his help. Since he said that, he must have some inkling of the truth. Even if hope is slim, we must do our best and leave the rest to fate.”
“I know, Uncle.”
After the conversation, Jun Yichen took his leave. He had come and gone in a hurry.
With the Alliance Leader gravely ill, the entire burden of the Alliance rested on his shoulders. Despite his talent, he was incredibly busy. Even the Old Master’s attempts to make him stay couldn’t stop him; he said he needed to arrange the search for Brother Chu Ling immediately.
Between the search, the Alliance’s burdens, and the Divine Doctor, he had many headaches.
However, just as Jun Yichen stepped out of Sword Casting Villa, a servant boy suddenly ran up and called out to him.
Jun Yichen recognized him as Chu Ling’s personal page, A-Fu. He paused, waiting for the boy to reach him. A-Fu looked heavily burdened.
For some reason, Jun Yichen’s heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”
A-Fu caught his breath. Looking at the brilliant Jun Yichen and thinking of how he couldn’t stop his master’s headstrong adventure, his three days of anxiety finally found an outlet.
The Young Master had ordered him never to let the Old Master or the Eldest Young Master know. But telling Young Hero Jun wouldn’t count as disobeying his master’s orders, right? Besides, the Young Master’s actions were all for the sake of Young Hero Jun anyway…
With reddening eyes and trembling hands, A-Fu finally revealed the truth behind Chu Ling’s departure, which he had hidden for three days.
…
The next day, the weather was clear. The rain from the previous night hadn’t fully dried, and the air was still moist. A translucent drop of water hung from the tip of a green bamboo leaf.
In the ruined temple, Chu Ling gradually woke up in a pile of straw. He was draped in a luxurious black outer robe. It went without saying who the owner was.
Chu Ling was a bit of a late riser. Before opening his eyes, he instinctively snuggled into the robe, his chin buried in the fabric, revealing only the upper half of his fair face. His long, curled lashes rested on his lower eyelids like little fans, each hair distinct.
“Little lazy cat, time to get up.” A magnetic chuckle sounded in his ear, forcing Chu Ling to open his misty eyes. He saw a handsome face close at hand—just a hair’s breadth away from kissing his cheek.
“Big Brother Ghost?”
Seeing the youth’s snowy-white earlobe slowly turn crimson, Ji Wuyuan smirked silently and finally pulled back a little.
Once Chu Ling had tidied himself up and followed Ji Wuyuan outside, he saw sturdy black horses with their heads held high, hooves stomping on the grass. The men in black flipped onto their mounts and tightened their reins, but there was no extra horse for him.
The next moment, a strong, powerful arm suddenly encircled his waist. In a whirl of motion, his back was pressed against a broad chest.
“Heigh!”
With the wind whistling in his ears and the horse beneath him jolting, a dazed Chu Ling could only clutch the robe of the man behind him, shrinking into the man’s embrace.
Ji Wuyuan looked down at the ear peeking out from under the youth’s dark hair and the neck as white as jade. He gave a deep laugh, his chest vibrating.
“There are no extra horses. I’m afraid you’ll have to endure riding with me…”
Hearing this, the youth in his arms shook his head vigorously, seemingly finally coming to his senses. He turned his head, his eyes bright and his long hair flying back, intertwining with Ji Wuyuan’s ink-black locks.
“Big Brother Ghost, are we going back to the Demonic Sect now?”
“Yes, but it’s not the Demonic Sect—it’s the Light Divine Sect. Got that?”
The Demonic Sect never called itself that. It was only because its members acted erratically and caused much bloodshed that they were despised by the famous righteous sects. Thus, people of the martial world called them the Demonic Sect, the polar opposite of the righteous factions.
However, the youth was a newcomer to the world with a naive personality. Most of his knowledge of the martial world came from hearsay. If it weren’t for the person he loved, he probably wouldn’t have snuck out so recklessly.
From the moment he heard last night that these people were the “Demonic Sect,” the conflict on the youth’s face was real, yet deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a secret joy.
Though he hadn’t figured out why this ghost-masked man was so kind to him, it was a mutual agreement. Infiltrating the Demonic Sect was exactly what he had intended when leaving home.
Chu Ling stepped into the persona and situation of the original host seamlessly, as if born for the role.