Chi Changye arranged for Geng Xinghe to stay at the Bamboo Dew Pavilion, which was directly opposite the Heping Pavilion where he himself lived.
The distance between Heping Pavilion and Bamboo Dew Pavilion could not be called far, but it was not close either.
However, after nightfall, Chi Changye heard the soft sobbing of the young man.
Chi Changye had always been sharp of hearing and clear-sighted; every branch and leaf always found its way into his ears.
He was accustomed to the commotion in his ears and did not care about any of it.
Yet Geng Xinghe’s crying pierced through all the commotion, echoing continuously in his mind.
On the first day, Chi Changye hardened his heart and ignored Geng Xinghe.
However, when he saw Geng Xinghe come to pay his respects the next day with dark circles under his eyes and a sallow complexion, he could no longer harden his heart.
On the second night, without any surprise, Chi Changye heard the young man’s low sobbing once again.
That heart of Chi Changye’s, which had been wrapped in cold, hard armor and remained unbreakable for three hundred years, completely surrendered for the first time because of a young man’s weeping.
The young immortal monarch sighed, put on his shoes, and stepped out of Heping Pavilion, even forgetting to put on his outer robe.
Chi Changye gently knocked on the door of Bamboo Dew Pavilion: “Geng Chen, are you asleep?”
No one answered.
Chi Changye sighed and pushed the door open himself to go inside.
Bamboo Dew Pavilion was somewhat smaller than Heping Pavilion, but the layout was identical.
Chi Changye crossed the front hall and came to the door of Geng Xinghe’s bedroom, knocking gently once more.
Still there was no response.
Chi Changye gently pushed open his bedroom door and froze in place.
Inside the room, Geng Xinghe was lying fully clothed on the bed.
The bed was not large, but the youth was curled up into a ball, huddled in the corner, making the bed look completely empty.
The youth’s eyes were tightly shut, tear tracks lingered on his face, and his curled-up body was still trembling slightly.
Chi Changye sighed again.
Ever since he had picked Geng Xinghe back, he had done nothing but sigh.
Although Chi Changye suffered from anthropophobia, he also possessed a terminal sense of responsibility.
Since it was his responsibility, even if he died, he would have to return in a dream to finish fulfilling it.
And the youth before his eyes was his responsibility.
Chi Changye rubbed his temples, climbed onto the bed, and lay down, pulling the youth into his arms and clumsily patting his back to comfort him.
Curled up in his embrace, the youth gradually stopped crying, and his body slowly relaxed.
Geng Xinghe almost instinctively grabbed tightly onto the lapels of Chi Changye’s robe.
Like a drowning person clutching desperately at a straw for survival.
Chi Changye stroked the youth’s hair and coaxed him in a low voice: “Alright, be good, it’s fine now. Master is here.”
Geng Xinghe burrowed further into his arms and fell into a deep sleep.
Waking up in the morning, Geng Xinghe discovered that he was lying in Chi Changye’s arms.
The young immortal monarch was still sleeping with his eyes closed, his long hair spread out in disarray across the mattress like a meticulously detailed traditional painting of a sleeping beauty in spring.
Geng Xinghe moved slightly and discovered that one of his Master’s arms was cushioning the back of his neck while the other wrapped around his back, shielding him within his embrace in a protective posture.
Geng Xinghe thought of his own childhood.
Back then, when he had first arrived at the Geng family and cried throughout the entire night, his mother used to coax him to sleep just like this.
Geng Xinghe’s nose stung, and his eyes grew moist once more.
The youth silently closed his eyes and pressed his face against Chi Changye’s chest.
In this lifetime, he had no other attachments left; he had only this single trace of warmth from his Master.
Chi Changye slept for a very long time.
So long that by the time he woke up, the sun was already high in the sky.
The young man opened his eyes and locked gazes with a pair of beautiful dark pupils.
Seeing him wake up, the youth in his arms blinked and smiled: “Master.”
With a conditioned reflex, Chi Changye kicked Geng Xinghe right off the bed.
Hearing the young man’s miserable cry, he finally processed what he had done and hurriedly jumped down from the bed after him, asking in a flustered panic: “Geng Xinghe, are you alright?”
Geng Xinghe fell hard enough to feel dizzy and disoriented, looking up at Chi Changye with tear-filled eyes: “I-I’m fine.”
Fortunately, Chi Changye was still groggy and his movement was merely a physical, instinctive reaction without any mobilization of magic; otherwise, ten Geng Xinghes would have already been sent off to reincarnation by now.
The youth trembled all over.
Filled with remorse, Chi Changye scooped the person back onto the bed and awkwardly apologized: “I’m sorry, I am not used to sleeping with others.”
Having just woken up, he genuinely hadn’t reacted in time.
Geng Xinghe bloomed into a smile: “I’m fine, Master.”
Still feeling awkward and not daring to look at the youth anymore, Chi Changye stood up and walked toward the door: “Since you’re awake, wash up quickly, eat breakfast, and begin your morning lessons.”
Watching Chi Changye’s practically fleeing, panic-stricken back, Geng Xinghe smiled even more brightly: “Understood, this disciple obeys.”
When Geng Xinghe finished tidying up and arrived at Heping Pavilion, Chi Changye was sitting at the table waiting for him.
Seeing him enter, he said: “You’re here. Come over and eat.”
Geng Xinghe obediently sat down opposite Chi Changye.
On the table sat a bowl of white congee, a few side dishes, and a pair of jade chopsticks.
Geng Xinghe froze: “Master, why is there only one pair of chopsticks?”
If he used them, what would Master use?
Chi Changye rubbed his temples, feeling a wave of irritation rising within him, yet having no justification to vent it: “I don’t need to eat.”
He could live just fine without eating, drinking, or sleeping; he was not some fragile human being.
Chi Changye was willing to sleep simply because he liked sleeping.
As for troublesome matters like eating, he didn’t want to touch them at all.
Geng Xinghe let out an “oh,” smiled politely, and picked up the chopsticks: “Thank you, Master.”
“No need to thank me. This is my first time cooking as well, so I don’t know if it’s edible, but it looks like it hasn’t spoiled.”
Chi Changye averted his gaze, feeling even more awkward.
The dignified Immortal Monarch Yaoguang, who had never lifted a finger to do common work, never expected that upon taking a disciple for the first time, he would actually have to wash his hands to make soup and meals.
“It certainly can’t compare to the Geng family, so just make do with it.”
He added another sentence.
He could not tolerate outsiders coming up to Qiyue Peak to disturb his peace, so he preferred to do things himself rather than have the kitchen send food over.
Of course, once Geng Xinghe became familiar with things later on, he could go to the dining hall to eat on his own.
Geng Xinghe never imagined that his Master, who was so cold and aloof that he seemed devoid of any “humanity,” would actually cook a meal for his sake. A wave of the urge to cry washed over him once more.
Yet he couldn’t; his Master disliked emotional fussiness.
The youth tried hard to sniffle: “Thank you, Master.”
“You already thanked me just now.”
Chi Changye uncomfortably muttered: “Stop dawdling, hurry up and eat.”
Geng Xinghe lowered his head, took a sip of the congee, and widened his eyes in disbelief.
The youth picked up a mouthful of the side dish and popped it into his mouth, praising almost without a moment’s thought: “It’s so delicious! Master is so amazing, thank you, Master!”
At this moment, Geng Xinghe’s smile was completely unreserved, spreading from the bottom of his heart all the way to the corners of his brows.
Master was so amazing, his cooking was actually this delicious!
Even the chefs of the Geng family didn’t have such exquisite culinary skills.
“As long as you can eat it.”
Chi Changye stood up and walked out with a blank expression: “After you finish eating, clean up the bowls and chopsticks and come find me at the back mountain.”
He spoke calmly, looking completely normal and full of dignity.
If one chose to ignore the fact that he was walking with his arms and legs moving on the same side, it would have been quite perfect.
The Immortal Monarch Yaoguang, who had been praised as amazing by countless people, found himself at a complete loss for how to respond to a simple word of praise: “amazing.”