“Impossible! The disciple is merely a little weirdo right now. If I guide and educate him properly, he won’t turn into a major weirdo!” Ji Lan paced around in a circle. “Zhen’er, I’ve decided. I’m going to nurture Xu Xi!”
“Are you out of your mind?!” Zhen’er shrieked in horror. “We need to follow the legitimate plotline! How old is Xu Xi? I won’t allow you to be a beast!”
“You’re the beast,” Ji Lan rolled his eyes. “I like children the way a father likes his baby. Your kind of thinking is what’s beastly!”
“Very well, dear,” Zhen’er pivoted smoothly, adopting a sweet tone. “Then what is your plan? This system is fully equipped to assist you.”
Disgusted enough to feel nauseous, Ji Lan replied, “I want to set up Xu Xi and Chenxiao. That way, the disciple won’t be obsessing over his master’s wife anymore. Once he experiences a sweet, loving romance, he won’t easily turn into a psychopath, and I won’t get cuckolded.”
Zhen’er thought it was utterly absurd. The last part was clearly his actual priority!
No man wanted a green hat on his head, and since Ji Lan was a man, having that concern was completely normal.
At a loss for words, Zhen’er decided not to rain on his parade just as the host was finally showing some fighting spirit.
Remaining silent, Ji Lan took it as a sign that Zhen’er admired him profoundly.
Before Ji Lan could even find an opportunity to strike up a conversation with Xu Xi, however, an unexpected matter waylaid his plans.
The monks from the Lotus Sect of the Pure Land Sect had arrived to demand someone back.
To demonstrate that he wasn’t there to cause trouble, Huailian had come alone.
Since Huailian was not the head of the Pure Land Sect, he did not require Zhenxi’s personal reception; dispatching Ji Lan was more than enough.
This contrast only highlighted just how extraordinarily high-ranking Yu Zhengyang’s status truly was.
Being personally hosted by the Pavilion Master of the Sword Pavilion meant Yu Zhengyang’s background was likely far more formidable than he had originally imagined.
“Real Person Conglian, are you troubled by something?” Huailian sighed softly. “The vexations of this world are numerous as the hairs on an ox, and even within the Pure Land Sect, true purity is hard to find. Real Person, you must learn to let go of your worries.”
“The Great Master possesses a remarkably broad perspective,” Ji Lan murmured, lifting his teacup to take a sip. “Yet I wonder why the Great Master cannot let go of Ah Yue? After all, he is merely a child.”
Observing Ji Lan’s calm and unruffled demeanor, Huailian couldn’t detect a single trace of pretense. Did that child truly not drain any vital essence from Real Person Conglian?
“Real Person Conglian, the Pure Land Sect is willing to let Ah Yue stay by your side,” Huailian said, shifting directly to his proposition, “but in exchange, you must do us a favor.”
This monk clearly lacked the strength to forcefully snatch Ah Yue away, yet he still managed to speak with such a righteous tone. Ah.
“What sort of problem could your Pure Land Sect possibly fail to resolve that requires a minor cultivator like myself to assist?”
Hearing a cultivator at the Transformation stage casually refer to himself as a “minor cultivator,” Huailian offered a helpless smile. “Real Person Conglian, although Ah Yue currently appears no different from ordinary people, no matter how many years pass, his mental age will remain frozen exactly as it is right now.”
Ah Yue possessed the Ranhong Sword and had even attained insight into the Heart Sword. He was essentially a walking weapon of mass destruction. Because he was still young, however, the true destructive might of the Ranhong Sword remained contained.
Once he grew into adulthood a few years down the line, he would no longer be able to restrain the blade. At that point, the Ranhong Sword—possessing spiritual sentience yet lacking a human heart—would unleash boundless calamities upon the cultivation world.
Perhaps by then, another individual capable of suppressing the Ranhong Sword would emerge, but unpredictable were the ways of fate. Since this crisis originated from the Pure Land Sect, they were obligated to extract the Ranhong Sword from Ah Yue’s body once he reached adulthood!
Upon hearing this explanation, Ji Lan fell silent.
Ah Yue was not the protagonist, after all. If he remained frozen in this mental state, he would inevitably be consumed by the malevolent will of the Ranhong Sword within a decade.
When that time came, the masterless Ranhong Sword would find its way back into Mo Chenxiao’s hands.
Ah Yue was truly nothing more than a disposable cannon-fodder character.
As a designated villain, Ji Lan felt a faint ripple of sympathy for the cannon-fodder Ah Yue.
“I will help with this matter,” Ji Lan said, gripping his already lukewarm teacup. “What must I do?”
“Journey to the Wuyi Kingdom and retrieve the Separation Pill,” Huailian said in a grave tone. “Have Ah Yue consume the Separation Pill, which will naturally allow him to sever his bond with the sword. Real Person Conglian, I shall accompany you on this journey.”
This statement instantly heightened Ji Lan’s vigilance.
Studying Huailian closely for a moment, Ji Lan noted that the monk didn’t look like a standard cannon-fodder character. Despite radiating an aura of universal compassion, Huailian consistently gave him an unsettling feeling.
“In that case, that would be for the best,” Ji Lan said calmly. “I shall bring my disciple along as well.”
When in doubt, bring along the ultimate cheat item—the male lead!
With protagonist plot armor on their side, they would slay gods if gods stood in their way and slaughter Buddhas if Buddhas blocked their path!
“I’m going too!” Yu Zhengyang glared at Mo Chenxiao with guarded hostility. “The journey is long and arduous; who knows what you might attempt to do to Ji Lan? No, I absolutely must tag along!”
Hearing Yu Zhengyang’s phrasing, which carried far too much ambiguous subtext, Ji Lan’s face darkened. Someone had clearly leaked word of his impending departure, causing Yu Zhengyang to throw a relentless tantrum until he secured a spot.
“Young Master Yu, forgive my bluntness, but under what pretext do you intend to join us?” Mo Chenxiao found Yu Zhengyang utterly grating. “Even Wansong is quietly remaining behind in the Lotus Rain Pavilion, so what gives you the right to throw a tantrum?”
Mo Chenxiao’s words instantly triggered Yu Zhengyang’s temper. Pointing a finger at Ah Yue resting in Ji Lan’s arms, Yu Zhengyang protested, “Why is he allowed to come along? Swap him out for me instead, I’m going too!”
The incessant noise gave Ji Lan a throbbing headache. If they swapped Ah Yue out, what would be the point of the trip?
“Young Master Yu, are you truly determined to go?” Ji Lan calmly produced a flask of liquor. “Drain this entire flask. If you can still stand steadily on your feet afterward, I will permit you to tag along.”
Mo Chenxiao’s expression shifted drastically. “Master!”
“It’s settled then!” Beaming with delight, Yu Zhengyang snatched the flask, downed its contents in a single breath, and stared unblinkingly at Ji Lan without a trace of flushing or unsteadiness. “I finished drinking, let’s go!”
Veins bulged visibly on the back of Mo Chenxiao’s clenched fists. Was his master deliberately trying to give Yu Zhengyang an excuse to tag along?
Though the wine was potent, how could it possibly have any intoxicating effect on a cultivator like Yu Zhengyang?
Before Mo Chenxiao could voice his discontent, however, he watched in stunned silence as his master executed a swift, decisive chop, directly knocking Yu Zhengyang unconscious onto the ground.
“There,” Ji Lan said coldly. “Wansong, help carry Young Master Yu inside to rest. Stay behind to look after the pavilion, and we will be on our way.”
Wansong glanced between the unconscious Yu Zhengyang and the immortal-looking elder, nodding stiffly. “Understood, Elder Conglian.”
“Real Person, awesome!” Ah Yue, who had been quietly hiding in Ji Lan’s embrace the entire time, grinned brightly. “We don’t want him!”
Ji Lan: …It seems everyone genuinely loathed Yu Zhengyang. What a waste of such a gorgeous face; a pity he was a total lunatic.
Watching the scene unfold from a distance, Huailian shook his head with a faint smile. Real Person Conglian certainly possessed a harsh temper. To attain the rank of elder at such a young age—Zhenxi truly favored him deeply.
“Great Master Huailian, pardon the spectacle,” Ji Lan pulled Ah Yue a little closer to his chest. “Let us depart. You know the route, correct? The rest of this journey relies on you.”
Did Real Person Conglian view him as a hired boatman? Huailian shook his head once more. Arrogant and detached from the world; Zhenxi could protect him for a moment, but he couldn’t protect him for a lifetime.
Disregarding the old monk’s internal criticisms, Ji Lan strode directly into the largest cabin on the flying vessel and made himself comfortable.
Compared to his own borrowed vessel, the Lotus Sect’s flying ship was far more luxurious.
The moment Ji Lan settled Ah Yue down onto a chair, he noticed his disciple quietly trailing into the room behind them.
“Chenxiao, there are five rooms in this cabin.” The subtext was obvious: Could you please bugger off to one of the other ones?
“Master, are you hungry?” Mo Chenxiao settled himself uninvited across from them, producing a roasted chicken from his storage pouch. “I figured Master might grow bored on the journey, so I prepared some refreshments.”
Gazing at the glistening, golden chicken, Ji Lan fought down an involuntary swallow. “This cabin is quite spacious; even if Great Master Huailian joins us, there is more than enough room.”
Mo Chenxiao curved the corners of his lips in a subtle smile. His master likely had no idea how many small giveaways were slipping past his defenses in front of him.
Was he desperately trying to signal that he had transmigrated into a borrowed body?
“Ah Yue is hungry,” Ah Yue stared longingly at the chicken, whimpering, “Real Person, I want to eat.”
“Be a good child, go ahead,” Ji Lan patted Ah Yue’s plump cheek with tender affection, tearing off small, bite-sized strips of meat and feeding them to her one by one.
Watching the little mouth open and close, the cheeks puffing out adorably on both sides, Ji Lan found the sight endlessly endearing.
Such an exquisite, well-behaved child—he couldn’t possibly let her fall victim to the Ranhong Sword’s corruption.
While absentmindedly chewing on a piece of meat he had claimed for himself, Ji Lan continued feeding Ah Yue… until the entire chicken vanished, at which point a sudden realization struck him.
Both of his hands had been busy feeding Ah Yue just now—how had he managed to eat meat himself?
Stiffly turning his head, Ji Lan caught Mo Chenxiao in the act of withdrawing his fingers from right beside Ji Lan’s lips, having just fed him a piece.
“What is wrong, Master?” Mo Chenxiao asked, blinking with innocent perplexity. “Eat up.”
The expression on Mo Chenxiao’s face was far too natural, as though a disciple feeding his master was the most righteous and expected thing in the world.
Blankly, Ji Lan opened his mouth and bit down on the offered morsel.
Perhaps Mo Chenxiao had held the meat a fraction too close, because Ji Lan accidentally brushed his lips against the boy’s fingertip…
“Master, are you thirsty?” Mo Chenxiao calmly picked up a cup of tea and held it gently to Ji Lan’s lips. “Drink, Master.”
Wait, hold on a second!
Ji Lan opened his mouth with the intention of giving his disciple a stern lecture, but the moment his lips parted, a mouthful of tea flowed straight down his throat.
Ji Lan: …My traitorous mouth!
“The bond between master and disciple is truly heartwarming,” Huailian paused briefly in the doorway, pressing his palms together in a respectful bow. “Amitabha. Real Person Conglian, this is your boundless blessing, a true blessing indeed.”
Mo Chenxiao suddenly found Huailian infinitely more pleasing to the eye. “Great Master, care to step inside and share a cup of warm tea?”
Huailian stiffened slightly. Wasn’t that cup of tea originally fetched from his own private stash on the flying vessel?
“No need,” Huailian replied, pulling the cabin door shut behind him as a faint, hollow voice drifted through the wood. “This journey will take at least seven days. Real Person Conglian, this old monk shall return to his chambers to meditate.”
Ji Lan: …If you’re leaving, fine, but why must you close the door? Didn’t you realize the atmosphere in here was already suffocatingly awkward?
“Master,” Mo Chenxiao said with composed tranquility, “I am hungry as well. Might I trouble you to feed me a chicken wing?”
The entire chicken had already been devoured clean by Ji Lan and Ah Yue, leaving behind literally nothing else…