Shen Xiuyun set down his teacup, his breath fresh, the tip of his tongue still savoring the faint sweetness of the clear tea. “Have I?”
It’s really not that bad.
Yun Siqing said, “When Qianxun began cultivating under me, he was but eight years old. His entire family was slain by demonic cultivators. In terms of a tragic past, his was no better than Zhu Xingyao’s.”
“But I taught him that the more one is in adversity, the more resolute one must be, and that one must never wallow in childhood wounds that cannot be undone. Now, he is already able to stand on his own.”
“I know you pity Zhu Xingyao for what he has suffered, but overprotecting him will likely do his growth no favors. In your daily teachings, you should still be a bit stricter.”
Shen Xiuyun’s brow furrowed deeply. After a moment of contemplation, he said, “What senior brother says is not without reason. I will consider it accordingly.”
He had thought about being a bit stricter in how he taught Zhu Xingyao, but the boy was like a fragile glass orb that couldn’t be handled roughly.
He couldn’t make too many changes in a short time.
His disciple was prone to getting triggered.
Yun Siqing suggested, “Why not have him move to the disciples’ quarters? Interacting more with peers his own age would make it easier for him to open his heart. If you’re worried, I can arrange for him to share quarters with Qianxun, so he can keep an eye on him day to day. What do you think?”
Shen Xiuyun was not quite at ease. “Let’s wait a while longer. His spiritual roots haven’t fully recovered, and his health is not yet fully restored.”
“As long as you know what you’re doing.”
After that, Yun Siqing chattered on with Shen Xiuyun for a long while, mostly sharing his senior brother’s everyday insights on raising disciples, along with various points of caution.
Shen Xiuyun was actually a little curious. Why hadn’t the dynamic between his senior brother and Jin Qianxun turned into one of those “Master” tropes?
It defied all logic. Wasn’t it said that a Master who was strict with his disciple would make the disciple feel unloved, thereby breeding resentment, and ultimately leading to…
Why was it that in this entire book, he was the only one who got hurt?
Shen Xiuyun was indignant, but before his ire could even flare up, the System sent a notification: 『Detecting male lead turn villain value +2. Host, please return and check the situation as soon as possible.』
What in the world!
What had happened?
『Turn villain value +1.』
Shen Xiuyun was utterly numb. The guy was perfectly fine on One-Finger Peak, so how had the turn villain value gone up?
Zhu Xingyao, what the hell are you doing!
Shen Xiuyun was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan. To hurry back, he hastily bid farewell to Yun Siqing. “Senior brother, it’s getting late. Let’s leave it at this for today. I’ll come another day to seek your advice.”
Yun Siqing pursed his lips and shook his head. The more he looked at Shen Xiuyun, the more he felt his junior brother was hopeless.
He’d only been out a short while, and already he was rushing back?
It was because of Zhu Xingyao, wasn’t it? It seemed that boy was so clingy because his junior brother had been spoiling him rotten.
What exactly did he see in Zhu Xingyao?
The little junior brother he had raised by his own hand… ever since taking on a disciple, the most important person, the one he worried about most, was no longer him.
Yun Siqing felt inexplicably displeased. Displeased in his heart, yet not knowing why he felt this way.
“Very well. Now that you have someone you care about more, senior brother’s place can no longer keep you.”
Shen Xiuyun: “???”
Senior brother, why does that sour, petty remark of yours make one’s heart feel so unsettled?
Can’t you just speak normally?
Yun Siqing spread his hands and produced several books. “Take these books. Read them often.”
Shen Xiuyun stowed them directly into his universe pouch. “Many thanks to senior brother for the books.”
Then, whoosh, he left Wuwei Peak.
Damn it, the turn villain value had already risen to 10. If it reached a hundred, he could just go ahead and play himself a funeral dirge.
Shen Xiuyun hurried back as fast as he could. By the time he returned to One-Finger Peak, the moon had already risen above the branches.
Bathed in moonlight, the night scenery was coated in a layer of silver luminescence.
On the corridor outside the meditation chamber, a shadowy figure was huddled in a squat by the door. A wooden sword lay at his side, his head pressed to his knees, curled into a ball like a little cat. He seemed… to have fallen asleep?
Falling asleep from exhaustion yet not going back home… why so stubborn?
Shen Xiuyun’s heart felt as though it were stuffed with a tangled skein of thread, a thousand ends pulling every which way, too chaotic to know where to begin sorting.
What am I to do with you?