What should he do?
The moment Ruan Wei seemingly recognized him, Shu Yang felt his entire body go numb. If it were before, with his arrogant temper and unparalleled cultivation, he would never have feared the formidable yet blustering Dragon Clan Young Palace Master. But now, he was a tiger fallen on hard times, unable to muster a single shred of spiritual energy.
The tiny amount of immortal power he had converted from that bit of faith was already spent, and he could not squeeze out even a drop more. The harder Shu Yang struggled, the tighter Ruan Wei’s hand clamped around his throat, cutting off his air.
Just as Shu Yang’s vision began to fade and he was on the verge of being strangled by the suspicious and emotional Ruan Wei, a small shadow suddenly leaped in front of him.
Before Shu Yang could react, he heard Ruan Wei grunt in pain. Immediately, the fingers gripping his throat slackened. Shu Yang was a clever man; he did not waste this fleeting chance. He gasped for a breath of fresh air and delivered a swift, powerful kick to Ruan Wei’s chest.
He put every ounce of his strength into that kick. Ruan Wei, distracted by his inner turmoil, failed to defend himself and was sent flying several meters away.
After barely regaining his footing, Ruan Wei stared at Shu Yang with an increasingly dark and menacing expression. He looked down at his wrist, where the lingering pain reminded him of what had just happened. A small child, not even reaching his waist, was latched onto his wrist, biting down with all his might.
Ruan Wei looked at the child as if he felt no pain. He clenched his fist, and the dragon scales on his wrist erupted, shimmering with an icy, metallic luster. The child bit into the scales, froze as a chill shot through him, let go, and tumbled to the ground like a ball, rolling away.
Ruan Wei looked at the child, then at Shu Yang, deciding to kill the annoying brat first before interrogating Shu Yang. He flicked his fingertip, conjuring a pale blue, six-petaled ice snowflake that carried a faint, murderous chill.
Shu Yang was familiar with this technique; it was a traditional skill of the Ice Dragon clan. Though its offensive power was low, it was more than enough to deal with a defenseless mortal child without spiritual roots.
Shu Yang panicked. He could not speak; if he shouted Ruan Wei, he would be incriminating himself. After all, a lowly slave should not even be able to recognize the Young Palace Master. Trapped by his own ruse, he could only watch in silence as Ruan Wei flicked his sleeve, sending the snowflake flying toward the child like a blade.
If it were the old Shu Yang, he would have ignored it, but—
Clang!
With a crisp sound, Shu Yang threw a tree branch he had snatched from the ground. It collided with the ice flower, shattering into dust that rained down upon the child’s forehead. He had deflected the lethal blow.
But Ruan Wei was not done. He sent a flurry of ice flowers toward Shu Yang. Before Shu Yang could react, the sharp edges of the ice blades grazed him, cutting his face.
He was scarred.
Shu Yang touched his face, annoyed. As a star of the cultivation world, he had some vanity, and being disfigured bothered him. But he had no time for self-pity. He moved to save the child, only to find the boy standing rigid, his forehead covered in the fallen ice, seemingly stunned. He did not even try to hide. The ice flower passed straight through his neck—or so it seemed.
Shu Yang’s heart felt as though it had been gripped by a giant hand. His heart raced, and he could not breathe. That child was barely five or six. Before he could even ask the boy’s name, he scrambled forward to catch him as he collapsed.
The child’s pupils were dilating, and he was gasping in pain. Shu Yang clutched him, his own chest aching. He leaned in, only for the child to squint, open his hand, and reveal the ice flower held firmly in his palm.
Shu Yang stood frozen.
His grief evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming sense of speechlessness. He had been tricked by a brat. Ruan Wei, equally stunned that his technique had failed against such a small child, stared in shock and confusion. The boy, seemingly unafraid, tilted his head and hid behind Shu Yang’s pant leg, peeking at Ruan Wei with curiosity.
The ice flower had been useless against him. Shu Yang took the opportunity to retreat, putting distance between himself and Ruan Wei. Ruan Wei fixed his gaze back on the sturdy male figure of Shu Yang and asked again, “Shu Yang?”
Shu Yang remained silent, determined not to respond.
The child clinging to his leg opened his mouth, “Ah!”
Ruan Wei, “Shu Yang?”
Shu Yang remained silent.
The child chirped, “Ah!”
Ruan Wei stood motionless.
Silence descended, deafening and heavy. Ruan Wei stared at the child’s round, dark eyes, incredulous, “Shu Yang?”
The child responded happily, “Ah!”
Ruan Wei was left speechless.
The Ziwei Star’s light had indeed pointed toward the gate, but Ruan Wei had expected the true Shu Yang to be the one who looked like him. He had not expected the man who looked like Shu Yang to be weak, while the small child seemed powerful enough to nullify his ice magic.
Ruan Wei began to waver. Was he mistaken? Had Shu Yang suffered an accident upon becoming a Fallen Immortal, regressing into a child’s body?
Shu Yang saw Ruan Wei’s hesitation as a golden opportunity. He was grateful he had saved the child to use as a shield. But Ruan Wei was not so easily dissuaded. Unsure who was who, he swept his hand, bundling Shu Yang, the child, and everyone else at the gate off to the Dragon Palace to be vetted.
After inspecting their spiritual roots and finding them all pathetically weak, Ruan Wei’s eyes returned to Shu Yang. Shu Yang stared back with utmost composure, even stepping forward when Ruan Wei reached out to probe his spiritual roots.
Ruan Wei withdrew his hand. He stared at Shu Yang’s filthy face, his red eyes bloodshot with agitation. “Go. Wash yourself clean.”
Especially your face.
Shu Yang was alarmed. “That is not necessary, is it?” He regretted not making his puppet’s face look completely different from his own. “This lowly slave is ugly; I fear I will stain the Young Palace Master’s eyes.”
“Wash when I tell you to. Stop the chatter!” Ruan Wei’s chest still throbbed from Shu Yang’s kick, but he was too proud to rub it in public. “Wash!”
Shu Yang hesitated, planning to adapt on the fly. “Wash here?”
Ruan Wei gave him a chilling look. “Naturally, you will wash in the inner chamber.”
Shu Yang feigned grievance, but inwardly, he was thrilled. If he washed in the inner chamber, he could find a way to disguise his appearance.
He hummed a tune as he walked behind the screen, untying his clothes and planning his disguise. Just as he was about to step into the bathing barrel, the screen was ripped aside by a gust of wind. Before Shu Yang could react, Ruan Wei flew in and shoved him straight into the barrel!
Shu Yang stumbled and fell into the water. The clear liquid washed away the soot and filth from his skin and face, and even cleansed the blood from his scabs, revealing his original, peerless, and elegant features.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to avoid the water. When he finally opened them and looked up, he saw Ruan Wei standing coldly by the barrel, leaning over, peering down to see the true face beneath the grime.
Shu Yang stood frozen.
Shu Yang covered his mouth, trembling with rage. He cursed himself for not making his disguise uglier. He had only one thought:
Damn you, Ruan Wei, you little scoundrel! You dared to ambush me! Where is your sense of fair play?