When Wen Zhihan was unconscious, he had constantly worried about Shen Zong’s condition.
He worried whether he had also been severely injured, and feared that his disciple would trap himself in a dead end with an unstable Dao heart. Over and over, he had wanted to simply let his Nascent Soul leave his physical body, abandoning his flesh entirely just to regain a clear mind would have been fine, but repeatedly, he could sense the medicinal herbs and spiritual energy being channeled into his body.
This must mean his disciple had not given up on saving him. If he were to abandon his physical body instead, he would only be wasting his disciple’s good intentions.
Yet whenever his divine sense returned to his sea of consciousness to recuperate, he could not help feeling somewhat anxious, eager to stop Shen Zong.
As a late Nascent Soul cultivator, under normal circumstances his soul was indestructible. Why on earth did Shen Zong feel the need to save him at the bottom of the Cliff of Returning to Heaven where spiritual energy was entirely absent? Even if his physical body disintegrated, so long as they could escape this place, he could still reshape it using heavenly treasures, which was hardly a matter of vital importance.
Thus, when he finally awoke and heard Shen Zong tell him to rest at ease and not rush to leave, his brows furrowed tightly instead.
An injury that could cost one’s life, how could it be more important than getting out of here quickly?
Wen Zhihan instinctively wanted to refute and persuade him, but before he could speak, he met Shen Zong’s gaze, which was fixed intently upon him.
Those were deep, dark eyes that resembled a silent, surging tide in the dark of night, reminiscent of boundless black water spreading quietly in the stillness, gently submerging and sweeping away everything.
Those eyes looked at him with absolute concentration, making it utterly impossible for the person being stared at to look away first.
What is the matter?
Could it be because the cave environment was enclosed and the firelight flickered too erratically?
Though they were the exact same eyes as those in his memories, Wen Zhihan inexplicably felt his heart skip a beat under that gaze, completely forgetting what he had intended to say.
“Alright.”
He had no choice but to agree for the time being.
Hearing him accept, Shen Zong immediately bloomed with a well-behaved, harmless smile, as if Wen Zhihan had not just agreed to rest for the sake of his body, but had instead received some long-awaited reward.
Wen Zhihan had a vague, instinctive sense that something was amiss, but upon seeing Shen Zong’s smile, all his lingering doubts vanished into thin air, leaving his chest feeling warm.
That is wonderful. A-Yuan is still A-Yuan, not entirely hopeless nor self-abandoning.
His tense nerves gradually relaxed. Lying back down on the crude yet soft straw bed, he watched Shen Zong bustling busily beside him, tending the fire one moment and boiling fresh clean water the next, brewing a bitter-smelling medicinal decoction. Once again, he felt that Shen Zong had indeed grown up a great deal.
As a master, he had instead ended up being personally tended to by his young disciple.
Feeling a dry, itchy sensation in his throat, Wen Zhihan coughed a few times, a spasm that sent stabbing pains through his ribs. Slowing his breathing before he could say anything, Shen Zong had already hurried over carrying a cup of warm water,
“Master, drink some water to moisten your throat.”
Wen Zhihan raised a hand to take the cup, but his fingers suddenly failed to respond, dropping weakly downward. As he watched the cup slip toward the ground, Shen Zong snatched it out of the air.
Yet a large portion of the water still sloshed out, wetting his garments.
He froze, staring at his right hand wrapped in layers of bandages, surprised that his injuries had turned out this severe this time, leaving him unable to even hold a cup steadily.
Wen Zhihan remained dazed for a fleeting second before hearing a soft thud, Shen Zong had dropped to his knees right there holding the cup.
“A-Yuan. Shen Zong, get up quickly, what are you… cough, cough.”
What is the meaning of this?
“I…”
Shen Zong seemed to be enduring something. Ultimately, he merely gritted his teeth, refilled the cup with warm water, held it up with both hands, and said,
“It is disciple’s incompetence that has implicated Master in suffering such grievous injuries, and now I cannot even handle this simple task. I beg Master for punishment.”
What kind of logic was this?
Wen Zhihan wanted to reach out and pull him to his feet, but a sharp ache flared in his radius. Instead, he simply lowered his gaze to look at him, feeling as though his chest was blocked by something suffocatingly heavy.
He let out a slow sigh, his nose stinging with sourness.
“Shen Zong, I am the one who is a burden right now.”
Regathering his strength, he took the small water cup from Shen Zong’s hands, thinking to himself that had he not also tumbled down here, Shen Zong would likely have already encountered that fortuitous encounter and left this ghostly place through demonic cultivation.
He was the one who had stubbornly defied the Heavenly Dao and rewritten Shen Zong’s fate.
Yet if he were to confess these words aloud, it would only cause Shen Zong to grow even more panicked and uneasy.
The cup was tiny, yet it felt heavier than usual. Without the enhancement of spiritual energy, the weakness of his mortal flesh was glaringly obvious. Disregarding the stinging pain entirely through sheer willpower and persistent exertion, Wen Zhihan picked up the cup by himself, brought it to his lips, and took a small sip.
Shen Zong raised his head in bewilderment, reaching out to help, only to be blocked by an invisible pressure.
Master did not want even such a trivial matter to require personal assistance.
Master refused to let him touch him anymore.
He hastily denied it, “Master is not a burden. I am simply bad.”
He was the one who had harmed Master.
He was too dull-witted, failing to recognize Master for so long while remaining guarded and calculating, even poisoning Master to affect his spiritual energy circulation.
Had it not been for him, Master would never have been injured so terribly, nor would he have fallen off the cliff trying to save him.
Wen Zhihan placed the water cup down steadily, his brow damp with a light sheen of cold sweat from the exertion, and fell silent without a word.
His silence made Shen Zong even more panic-stricken. Raising his head to look, he found his eye sockets growing somewhat hot.
This was the master he knew, whose emotions were never overly intense and who easily grew soft-hearted and reluctant to be harsh. Thus, he was never willing to scold or reprimand him, doing instead exactly this, slowly withdrawing the warmth and smiles from his face. Yet precisely because of this, he feared his master’s silence above all else.
“Master, disciple knows his wrong.”
He had compounded mistake upon mistake, not only harming Master but also acting in a way that displeased him right after waking up.
Consumed entirely by his own guilt and anxiety, suffering miserably in his heart and feeling the urge to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness, he had simply been too incredulous that Master had truly returned, leaving him so dazed that he could not even hold a single cup of water steady.
He had caused Master to fail to even drink water properly, only to have to comfort and instruct him instead.
Shen Zong felt a swelling ache in his eyes, and lowered his head, forcibly suppressing the churning tempest within his chest.
Wen Zhihan still did not look at him, merely regulating his somewhat disordered breathing as he shook his head. “Shen Zong, now is not the time for apologies and self-blame.”
He had no desire to hear who was right or wrong, nor did he wish to witness Shen Zong’s panicked expression. He needed neither punishment nor his disciple’s kneeling and obedience.
He simply hurt all over.
His bones and flesh ached, and his chest felt sour and painful. A myriad of words swarmed through his mind, the reasonable principles he could offer were so many, yet so pale and powerless.
Only at this moment did he abruptly realize that Shen Zong’s inner thoughts were far heavier than he had ever imagined.
“Look, your master can drink water by himself, I am not a cripple yet.”
Wen Zhihan said slowly, “However, because you prepared warm water and handed it to me, you helped. That is already a great help. Therefore, there is no need to apologize.”
“Understood. Disciple knows.”
With his mind seemingly blank and failing to fully grasp the meaning, since Master told him not to apologize, Shen Zong simply shut his mouth like a silent wallflower, saying not a word as he wiped away the water stains on the straw mat and cleaned his master’s dampened clothes.
Yet the bandages were also soaked. Looking up with bright, probing eyes, he gazed at his master, wanting to reapply medicine and wrap the wounds anew.
Seeing this expression, Wen Zhihan knew Shen Zong had understood nothing, but his temper was entirely gone.
He would simply have to take things slowly.
Nodding, he actively spread his arms and body, cooperating with his movements.
Seeing that Master still permitted him to touch him and had not grown disgusted with him, Shen Zong felt as though he had received a pardon. Relaxing his shoulders, he set about tending to the gauze with nimble hands.
Watching Shen Zong’s somewhat dejected appearance, Wen Zhihan sighed internally, pulled the corners of his mouth into a smile, and soothed,
“That cup of water was prepared wonderfully. The temperature was neither cold nor hot, precisely right. Seeing that you are unharmed and being able to drink such a cup of water makes your master very happy.”
Shen Zong froze, parting his lips, but his throat burned with a sour ache that prevented any sound from escaping.
“In the future, do not apologize again, nor blame yourself.”
Coughing a few times, Wen Zhihan spoke in a weak voice, “Your master covers your back not for the purpose of watching you blame yourself. Smile, let me know that I helped you, and that will be enough.”
Shen Zong’s eyes widened. Daring not even to blink, he choked back tears for a long time.
Master wants him to smile.
He was not dreaming.
His chest heaving, he drew a deep breath and tried to force a smile, but the moment the expression curved his lips, tears spilled uncontrollably down his cheeks.
Scrambling to wipe them away, Shen Zong smiled a smile uglier than weeping, “Thank you, thank you Master. Fortunately, fortunately you are here.”
“Alright, it is over now. Was it not just a misunderstanding, making a fool of ourselves before others and getting hurt together? Your master believes you are innocent, and the truth will come to light very soon.”
Seeing him like this, Wen Zhihan found himself unable to smile either. “In another two hundred years, who will even remember this nonsense.”
Shen Zong blinked playfully, “Master, is two hundred years really that long?”
“Well, a little over a hundred years should be about the same.”
Shen Zong lowered his head, the corners of his mouth drooping once more.
A hundred years. Could they still have a hundred years left?
Once the full truth came to light, would Master still be willing to deal with him?
Never mind how many years, the moment they left the Cliff of Returning to Heaven, Master would undoubtedly discover everything before long.
He would find out that he had indeed colluded with demonic cultivators, discover that not only had he birthed an inner demon, but he had also practiced both the Dao and demonic arts, and realize that he was no longer the Shen Zong of former days.
Unless they never left this place for a hundred years.
Seeing his disciple still lacking spirit, Wen Zhihan could not resist raising a hand to gently pat Shen Zong’s head.
The warm palm lightly brushing against his crown caused Shen Zong to freeze. His entire body stiffened visibly, and the gauze in his hand slipped away, wasting a large section.
Wen Zhihan had not patted a head in a long time. People often said that once children grew up and became adults, they disliked being patted on the head by elders and feared it would stunt their growth. It was simply that his injuries were too severe right now, causing him to temporarily forget and treat Shen Zong like a teenager again.
He must have startled his disciple, making him drop the gauze.
Recalling that Shen Zong had grown up, and remembering the wary posture and instant retreat whenever his hand drew close last time, Wen Zhihan prepared to retract his hand.
Yet Shen Zong did not use the excuse of picking up the gauze to pull away.
Though his body had stiffened for a moment, his disciple instead raised his head, steadied his palm, pulled the hand back down, tilted his head slightly, and rubbed his crown against his palm.
Just like he used to do as a teenager, Shen Zong lowered his eyes, enjoying his touch and body warmth as he murmured softly,
“Master…”
So obedient.
Just like when he was little.
Wen Zhihan’s heart melted completely, stirring a sudden sense of emotion that soothed much of his prior anxiety.
Seeing that Master’s brow had finally smoothed out, Shen Zong knew he had done the right thing. While quietly exhaling a breath of relief, he leaned in closer, hunching his upper body so that the strands of hair falling from his shoulders draped across his master’s chest, and asked pleadingly,
“Master, if we can never leave this place, spending our entire lives here in this deserted ravine, would you blame me?”
“Of course I would not blame you.”
Wen Zhihan smiled silently, his tone gentle and resolute. “Do not worry, I will definitely lead you out of here.”
Shen Zong abruptly closed his eyes, lowering his head to let his hair obscure his face.
The sharp ringing in his ears triggered by the stirring of his inner demon returned, his heart hammering wildly and driving his body temperature upward.
He heard faint murmurs echoing within his mind, buzzing like a curse.
You will lose him once more.
Master assumes you are as innocent as in your past life.
You will only cause Master to be utterly disappointed.
Unless…
No.
You clearly made complete preparations long ago.
This is wrong!
Dizzy and plagued by darkened vision, Shen Zong fought desperately to suppress the inner demon once again.