When Chi Changye emerged from the Lotus Breeze Pavilion once again, his complexion was as pale as paper.
Standing stupidly outside the door, Geng Xinghe blurted out, “Master, you.”
“It’s fine, I won’t die,” Chi Changye replied with indifferent detachment. “If you spare me a bit of aggravation, I might even live a couple of years longer.”
Geng Xinghe lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Master. I always seem to mess things up.”
Chi Changye let out a sigh, reaching out to pat Geng Xinghe’s shoulder. “Alright, you foolish child. To err is human. Since I have already endured the heavenly punishment, no one else will dare to trouble you further.”
Emboldened, Geng Xinghe embraced Chi Changye. “I’m sorry, Master. I didn’t mean to, I.”
With helpless resignation, Chi Changye wrapped his arms around the boy who had thrown himself against his chest, gently stroking his back. “There, there, truly, it’s alright now.”
Burying his face against Chi Changye’s chest, Geng Xinghe listened to the steady beat of his heart while his arms tightened around his master’s slender waist in silence.
His master. His very own master.
Word that the revered Immortal Lord Yaoguang had condoned his disciple’s violent rampage and suffered the punishment of purple heavenly lightning spread rapidly across the three thousand immortal sects.
When the news broke, the Immortal Lord Yaoguang Fan Club went into complete meltdown.
Some wept; some threw tantrums.
An even greater number of people grew desperate to know just who Geng Xinghe was to warrant such desperate protection from Immortal Lord Yaoguang.
Those were forty-nine bolts of punitive purple lightning!
Only an immortal of Yaoguang’s caliber could survive such a trial unscathed, suffering nothing worse than superficial flesh wounds.
Anyone else would have had their cultivation completely shattered or their very soul scattered to the winds.
To be fair, Geng Xinghe’s actions hadn’t been entirely unforgivable to begin with.
After all, his killing had an underlying cause; his feud with Prince Huai was fundamentally a matter of mortal karmic retribution, and for Geng Xinghe to resolve that karma was, in a sense, reasonable.
That was, provided his methods hadn’t been so terribly cruel.
If not for that, then as Chi Changye had stated, not a single soul would have dared utter a word of dissent.
Yet the young man had failed to keep the malicious impulses born of his vengeance in check.
Even so, regardless of whether Immortal Lord Yaoguang was still alive or how severe his injuries were, nobody possessed the right to pursue Geng Xinghe’s past offenses any further.
After all, Immortal Lord Yaoguang remained the foremost figure among the three thousand immortal sects.
Even had he forcefully shielded the boy, true to his stature, not a soul would have dared voice an objection.
Yet he had chosen not to; he had even shouldered the entirety of the responsibility himself.
This prompted the immortal sect disciples who were fiercely infatuated with Chi Changye to launch into endless speculation.
Just who on earth was Geng Xinghe?
Profiles detailing Geng Xinghe soon surfaced on the black market.
Along with images of the youth.
The records depicted the young man kneeling outside Peak Chiyue.
With a spine as straight as a pine or bamboo, his breathtaking beauty and tear-filled peach-blossom eyes tugged painfully at the hearts of countless onlookers.
Oh, just look at such a gorgeous boy, gazing up with such a pure, innocent, and aggrieved expression! What’s wrong with Immortal Lord Yaoguang codoning such a poor little darling?
He’s merely a homeless child after all.
He has nothing left in this world except his master.
So what if his master chooses to spoil him a little?
Within the immortal sects’ online forum, a brand-new faction materialized: the Star-Night Fan Club.
#Xinghe Is So Well-Behaved, What’s Wrong with Spoiling Him?#
#Geng Xinghe, You Possess the Finest Master in the World#
#Seeking Advice: What Should I Do If I Want to Become Geng Xinghe’s Fellow Disciple?
Yue Qianfan scrolled through the distressing posts on the forum every day, feeling an overwhelming sense of existential despair.
Really, do these people have nothing better to do with their lives?
What kind of karmic sin did my Xiaoyao Sect commit in a past life?
Having one colossal deity like Chi Changye isn’t enough; now we have to deal with a second one named Geng Xinghe added to the mix!
And furthermore.
What the hell do you mean by “it’s only natural for a master and disciple to engage in a sweet romance”?
If Chi Changye ever clapped eyes on that nonsense, he’d twist their heads clean off their shoulders!
Silently, Yue Qianfan exercised his administrative authority as head of the premier immortal sect to purge those utterly preposterous threads from existence.
Seriously, stop shipping everything under the sun, I’m begging you.
Shipping everything indiscriminately will only bring your own downfall.
It’s not that Chi Changye doesn’t browse the forum; it’s simply that he isn’t dead.
If he ever started reading these forums, the three thousand immortal sects would probably be knee-deep in blood by now.
Yue Qianfan was driven to absolute despair.
Unaware of Yue Qianfan’s internal crisis, Chi Changye prepared to accompany his disciple down the mountain to guide those three hundred wandering spirits into the netherworld.
Having learned his lesson this time, Chi Changye resolved never again to let Geng Xinghe descend the mountain alone.
He feared the boy might simply scatter all three hundred souls into nothingness with a flick of a talisman.
Yet an unexpected complication awaited them.
Upon arriving at the Prince Huai estate, Geng Xinghe exhibited clear reluctance.
The boy tilted his head to look at Chi Changye, his lips parting in a soft murmur, “I cannot do it, Master.”
“Very well.” Knowing full well he was making an unreasonable demand, Chi Changye conceded.
Those were Geng Xinghe’s sworn enemies; finding it difficult to guide their souls was entirely understandable.
Chi Changye gently patted the youth’s shoulder. “I’ll handle it.”
Geng Xinghe lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry, Master. I’m always causing you trouble.”
After a brief moment of thought, Chi Changye pulled the boy into his embrace, offering the same reassuring pats on the back as before. “There, there, it’s alright. You are still young; you merely need time to grow.”
Burying his face against Chi Changye’s chest, Geng Xinghe wrapped his arms silently around his master’s slender waist.
His master. His very own master.
The gates of the Prince Huai estate remained locked tight.
Outside stood rows of heavily armed imperial guards.
Overnight, the Prince Huai estate had been mysteriously reduced to a slaughterhouse, leaving the Three Judicial Offices utterly stumped despite their most exhaustive efforts.
From that day forward, the entire estate was sealed off indefinitely by imperial decree.
Yet penetrating the blockade of imperial guards meant nothing whatsoever to Immortal Lord Yaoguang.
The azure-clad immortal stepped past the perimeter, bringing his disciple straight into the heart of the Prince Huai estate.
However, the moment he summoned his soul-calling talismans, he discovered to his utter astonishment that he could locate precisely nothing.
Refusing to accept the failure, Chi Changye tried a second time.
Pristine and clean, there was absolute nothingness.
Not a single lingering soul, not even the tiniest fragment of spiritual debris remained.
Chi Changye glanced back over his shoulder at Geng Xinghe.
The boy stood obediently behind him, looking every bit the picture of pure, docile compliance.
Chi Changye sighed inwardly.
Sensing that his master’s expression had darkened, Geng Xinghe stepped forward with an innocent air. “Master, what is wrong?”
“There are no souls here, not even a single residual fragment.”
Chi Changye’s countenance remained placid, his tone detached and devoid of any discernible emotion.
Geng Xinghe’s eyes widened in innocent bewilderment, his lovely peach-blossom eyes swimming with confusion. “Master, could it be that their souls were already collected by the underworld’s ghost emissaries?”
“Impossible,” Chi Changye shook his head. “Before the soul’s seventh-day passing, the ghost emissaries never come to harvest them. Moreover, they died violent, unnatural deaths; the netherworld would possess no prior record of their demise and could not possibly have come for them.”
“Could they have gone elsewhere? Like a graveyard?” Geng Xinghe inquired.
“That is out of the question. Until the seventh day passes, a departed soul cannot leave the place of its death,” Chi Changye furrowed his brow tightly. “Someone removed these spirits before our arrival.”
“Who on earth could have done such a thing…” Geng Xinghe appeared equally perplexed.
A look of pure, unblemished innocence rested upon the boy’s striking face. “Master, should we continue searching?”
Chi Changye lowered his gaze.
Oh, this treacherous little brat, he’s probably celebrating secretly inside right now.
Hesitating for a heartbeat, Chi Changye raised his head once more. “We shall search, not the two of us, but myself. I will look into this on my own.”
“Master?” The boy’s eyes widened in sudden, crestfallen disappointment. “Are you leaving me behind? I can help, I promise I’ll be obedient and never cause trouble.”