In the back courtyard stood a Dust-Avoidance Tree, and beneath it flowed a natural hot spring—crystal clear with faintly visible steam.
Chongjue removed his layered blue robes and placed them aside, slowly stepping into the warm waters.
The water vapor grew denser.
Chongjue’s dark hair fell loose. As he reached up absently, he noticed a strand of white hair and paused briefly, then set it aside as if it were nothing.
The jade pendant already bore cracks. The Five Heavenly Declines were inevitable.
Birth and death were Heaven’s decree. Chongjue had lived too long to feel much about it.
He raised his hand, cupped water in his palm, and used spiritual power to manipulate the flow, twisting and rotating it into strange mystical patterns.
Yet suddenly the emerald array seemed to lose a crucial piece, cutting off abruptly from its center with a flash of crimson light before exploding in his palm.
Water dripped through his fingers.
Chongjue frowned slightly.
Originally, when he disguised the Heaven’s Dao formation to summon Infinite Hell, his luck would make him evade Heaven’s punishment, successfully transforming the false array into a true one to drag people into Infinite Hell.
But now his original form was cracking.
Absorbed in thought, Chongjue didn’t notice a dead branch at the shore quietly hooking his neatly folded clothes and dragging them away.
Su Hansheng lay by the courtyard pillar outside the Buddhist hall, inconspicuously manipulating his companion tree to steal his uncle’s replacement robes.
Another section of the companion tree nervously poked Su Hansheng’s face, signaling: don’t seek death!
He wanted to see how far Chongjue would indulge him.
Just as the companion tree was about to successfully snatch the clothes, the closed-eyed Chongjue sighed helplessly.
Su Hansheng’s paw froze mid-movement. He nearly prostrated himself completely.
Right—a Great Ascension-stage cultivator’s divine sense could sweep hundreds of li. How would he not see through this minor trick?
But after tracing the talisman Chongjue had carved, Su Hansheng felt reassured. Since he was already discovered, there was nothing to worry about.
He was about to brazenly steal the clothes when his entire body suddenly lifted into the air. Weightlessness struck him before spiritual power yanked him directly to the hot spring’s edge.
Chongjue opened his eyes and looked at him indifferently: “I let you act freely. Your interpretation of freedom is stealing your superior’s clothes?”
Su Hansheng coughed dryly. As long as he wasn’t embarrassed, it didn’t matter. He nodded while lying on the ground: “Yeah. I’ve stolen your clothes several times before. You already know.”
Chongjue hadn’t expected him to actually admit it. He held back for a moment but couldn’t help saying quietly: “I heard Ying Jianhua treats you quite strictly. Didn’t he teach you to respect your superiors and love your inferiors?”
Seeing that Chongjue didn’t ask the usual “audacious,” “disrespectful,” or “who corrupted you” questions, Su Hansheng grew bolder and grinned.
“No. He’s busy all the time. Every time he returns to Yingxu Sect, Elder Xie reports to him, and he rushes back frantically to beat me.”
Su Hansheng was accustomed to beatings, not bothered by them. But hearing this, Chongjue felt inexplicable heartache. His initially hardening heart softened immediately.
No wonder Ying Jianhua’s teaching style resulted in Su Hansheng having such a rebellious nature. It wasn’t Su Hansheng’s fault—if he’d had a superior figure accompany his growth from childhood, teaching him etiquette and propriety, he wouldn’t have developed this unruly temperament.
Chongjue began to secretly regret not insisting on taking Su Hansheng to Mount Sumeru back then.
Chongjue’s heart had become unbearably soft, his brows and eyes unconsciously becoming tender.
But at a glance, he found Su Hansheng lying on the ground, apparently obedient, yet his eyes had audaciously drifted toward the water.
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You better mean just the spring water.
Chongjue raised his hand to rub his brow and said: “Mm.”
Su Hansheng was immediately delighted and began backing away furtively, not wanting to disturb his uncle’s bathing leisure.
Chongjue said: “Since you want to bathe, come.”
A moment later, Su Hansheng shyly hid in the hot spring, keeping a distance of hundreds of thousands of li from Chongjue, terrified he’d start fantasizing again and harbor lustful thoughts.
Even in such a spacious hot spring, the space was limited. Su Hansheng submerged his entire body in the water, revealing only his nose and above. His mouth bubbled continuously as his peripheral vision watched through the water vapor toward the indistinct figure nearby.
Tonight, Wu Baili and Yuan Qian’s words echoed in his mind again.
“Why must you fall for a Buddhist cultivator?”
“If you hadn’t harbored feelings for the World-Honored One, how could a single glance make you lose control?”
“This is a girl experiencing her first love!”
Su Hansheng got so flustered he nearly swallowed a mouthful of water with a faint sulfurous taste, coughing for several moments.
His legs kicked in the water as if it were Yuan Qian, thrashing it about mercilessly.
“First love? How could I spring love for someone I’ve slept with countless times?!”
“…If you became dual cultivators, it would be the World-Honored One exploiting his superior status, unscrupulously seducing you—still just a half-grown child.”
Su Hansheng stopped kicking after a while, calming down. His face was reddened by the heat, his head dizzy and confused. Thinking of Yuan Qian’s words, he began drowsily contemplating.
If he truly became dual cultivators with Chongjue…
Chongjue was sitting with closed eyes, silently reciting Buddhist scripture when he suddenly felt ripples disturb the water. He frowned and opened his eyes.
At a glance, he saw in the distance a fuzzy head, like a drowned thing, suddenly dive underwater, bubbling continuously.
Chongjue’s frown deepened.
By reason, a Foundation Establishment cultivator shouldn’t be so foolish as to drown in shallow hot spring water. But this was Su Hansheng…
He could trip over nothing while walking, acted rashly without considering consequences like a little madman. Moreover, from past events, he seemed to instinctively fear water.
Chongjue’s heart skipped. He spoke: “Xiaoxiao.”
The water continued bubbling. Su Hansheng didn’t respond.
Chongjue’s brow tightened. He suddenly raised his hand, summoning spiritual power.
Su Hansheng remained underwater, overcome with shame about his “delusions,” thinking: “This is terrible. In the previous life, Chongjue only wanted to sleep with me. In this life, I’ve gone insane wanting to become dual cultivators with him.”
Since his rebirth, the World-Honored One Chongjue had treated him too well—so well that Su Hansheng couldn’t distinguish whether his feelings were reverence toward a superior, or what Yuan Qian had called…
Su Hansheng’s mind was already abnormal; now it was even more muddled, unable to distinguish direction.
But hearing those words from Yuan Qian—”become dual cultivators”—his heart seemed to lurch, so his first reaction wasn’t denial, but rather finding it amusing that Chongjue was being called “unscrupulous.”
The hot spring wasn’t deep. A simple push off the bottom would let anyone stand. Su Hansheng had an instinctive fear of water, but this time he likely subconsciously knew someone who could save him was nearby. He bubbled away underwater, wanting to cleanse his filthy heart.
Just as his breath was nearly depleted and he prepared to surface, a familiar spiritual power suddenly hooked around his waist, then abruptly lifted him up.
Su Hansheng cried out in surprise, breaking the surface and stumbling before Chongjue.
Chongjue steadied his side face with one hand, the other supporting his back of neck, his expression icy: “Did you choke?”
Su Hansheng was completely dazed, his long hair dripping wet on his shoulders, the back section like seaweed floating in the water. He stared blankly at the Chongjue mere inches away.
Chongjue confirmed his breathing was smooth, that he hadn’t actually choked, before only then relaxing—but then belatedly realized their position was improper.
Su Hansheng knelt half-submerged beside him, his slender frame obscured by dark hair, forcibly held up at the back of his neck by Chongjue, revealing his long, graceful neck. Water droplets from his hair slid down his chin, pooling at his delicate collarbone.
Water vapor swirled around them. Through it, Su Hansheng’s frightened amber eyes were faintly visible.
Chongjue’s pupils constricted as if pierced, shrinking into thin slits. He instinctively pushed Su Hansheng away.
The expansive hot spring’s steam twisted and warped. Before Su Hansheng could see clearly, Chongjue had already climbed onto the shore, his wet hair instantly drying, standing tall as a crane, his back to Su Hansheng as he fastened his robes.
Su Hansheng hurriedly explained: “I-I didn’t drown. I was just playing.”
Chongjue said indifferently: “Mm.”
Where Su Hansheng couldn’t see, Chongjue nearly tore his robe sash off. His brow was deeply furrowed, his usual calm Zen composure completely gone. He hastily tied a single knot on his sash.
Su Hansheng, carefree as always, was still playing with the water nearby.
Chongjue said coldly: “Finish bathing and return to Falling Parasol Lodge. Don’t forget to bring your assignments.”
With that, his white robes fluttered as he left without waiting for Su Hansheng’s response, departing in near-panicked haste.
Su Hansheng stared blankly at his uncle’s hastily retreating back, not quite understanding what had gotten into him.
It was just a touch, wasn’t it?
He wouldn’t even let him stay at the Buddhist hall?
Su Hansheng hadn’t given much thought to physical contact, nor did he find anything shameful about dual cultivation. To him, intercourse was merely an alternative method of seeking pleasure.
But seeing Chongjue’s near-panicked retreat, he vaguely sensed that for the World-Honored One, it was different.
Su Hansheng absently tidied his long hair, sprawling on the shore stone in contemplation.
Had Chongjue… been embarrassed?
In the previous life, they’d been intimate for over ten years. If Chongjue truly had previous life memories, he wouldn’t lose composure from just a touch, nor coldly dismiss him to sleep at Falling Parasol Lodge.
Well, so he didn’t have memories after all.
Su Hansheng had completed his probe. He couldn’t quite describe how he felt, silently preparing to leave when his gaze swept across the scattered blue robes and Wendao Academy garments. He only then realized he’d brought no change of clothes.
With only Foundation Establishment cultivation, Su Hansheng couldn’t conjure clothes with spiritual power like Chongjue. After hesitating, he quietly called: “Uncle, Uncle, you can hear me, right? Cough, could I borrow a change of clothes?”
Chongjue didn’t respond.
With Great Ascension Realm divine sense, he’d know every movement. Su Hansheng persisted: “Please, Uncle. I really only need them for a day. Tomorrow I’ll wash them and return them.”
Chongjue still remained silent.
Su Hansheng’s eyes darted about. He sighed theatrically, stretching his arm to grab the blue robes Chongjue had dropped.
“No choice then. I’ll have to borrow Uncle’s worn clothes. After all, Uncle already knows I’m a little crazy for wearing others’ garments. It shouldn’t matter if I—ugh!”
Before he could finish, Chongjue, at his wit’s end, flung a brand new set of robes from the Buddhist hall at Su Hansheng’s face with spiritual power.
Su Hansheng immediately burst into laughter.
It seemed he really was angry.
To anger the World-Honored One of Mount Sumeru so much he’d abandoned his dignity—Su Hansheng felt an inexplicable sense of achievement. He hummed a little tune as he dressed in the new robes and sauntered toward the Buddhist hall.
Chongjue wasn’t meditating in the Buddhist hall.
—At this point, even if he sat before the deities, he probably couldn’t recite a single line of scripture.
Su Hansheng retrieved his assignments and, about to head back to Falling Parasol Lodge, glanced at the empty Buddhist hall. He thought again of those words: “become dual cultivators.”
He didn’t know why, but after hesitating, he descended the steps and left anyway.
It was the hour of midnight. The entire Wendao Academy had extinguished its lanterns. Moreover, the back mountain was inhabited only by Zhuang Lingge and the World-Honored One—pitch black, with only insect chirps echoing.
Su Hansheng walked a few steps before the darkness that seemed ready to swallow him suddenly inspired fear.
At that moment, spiritual power abruptly manifested, silently transforming into candlelight bright as the moon. A path of illumination stretched toward Falling Parasol Lodge, lighting Su Hansheng’s way forward.
He stared blankly at that brightly lit path, sensing the spiritual energy unique to Chongjue.
It seemed that no matter where this path extended, someone would always accompany him.
Su Hansheng, who’d always been free of desire, suddenly felt a thought emerge that frightened even himself.
For the first time in his life, he felt such urgent desire to possess something.
Su Hansheng wanted that aura to belong to him forever.
Becoming dual cultivators…
Su Hansheng smiled, as if having completely resolved something, and happily walked along the candlelit path stretching before him.
If becoming dual cultivators was the only way to permanently and exclusively possess Chongjue, what was there to fear about that “uncle” identity?
Chongjue watched Su Hansheng safely return to Falling Parasol Lodge along the illuminated path, finally taking a breath of relief.
He rubbed his brow helplessly, unable to imagine how this youth of such tender years possessed the ability to crumble his Buddhist heart to dust.
Should they meet again, his Buddhist heart would surely shatter.
Enough. It was time to enter complete seclusion.