Chongjue scooped Su Hansheng up horizontally and roughly threw him onto the bed, casually waving his hand as the blackout curtains fell layer upon layer.
Su Hansheng didn’t utter a sound, turning over to face the inside of the bed.
Chongjue had already climbed onto the bed, his tall figure embracing Su Hansheng from behind, his arms encircling his slender waist, lazily saying, “Still want to cultivate together?”
Su Hansheng shook his head, remaining silent.
Chongjue brushed aside his dark hair, expertly kissing the back of his neck, seemingly trying to arouse his desire.
Su Hansheng remained silent for a long time, until Chongjue’s hand unbuttoned his robe. Suddenly, he murmured, “What you taught me… was all wrong.”
None of his principles of conduct were applicable in the Three Realms. He was repeatedly subjected to scolding and beatings, and after repeated experiences, Su Hansheng fell into deep self-doubt.
Using imprisonment and dual cultivation to force submission also seemed wrong now.
Chongjue chuckled softly, his hot breath brushing against Su Hansheng’s neck, forcing him to turn over. He frowned and pushed against Chongjue’s chest, shrinking back.
“Useless to him,” Chongjue leaned forward and kissed Su Hansheng’s brow, like a bewitching demon, chuckling softly, “But it works on me.”
Chongjue’s hand had already reached down to gently caress Su Hansheng’s half-naked waist, and he said softly, “You can control Xuan Lin’s bone chains, which is equivalent to holding my life in your hands—good boy, you need to learn to be ruthless, torment this body of mine until it’s half-dead, then whether you cultivate together or turn me into an obedient puppet, it’s all up to you, isn’t it?”
But Su Hansheng had a soft heart; unintentionally hurting someone would frighten him so much that his face turned ashen, making everyone shake their heads.
Su Hansheng stared at Chongjue in the darkness for a long time, then muttered under his breath, “Madman.”
Chongjue chuckled, “I’ve decided to return to Mount Sumeru first thing tomorrow morning. If you don’t harden your heart now, you’ll really have to wait ten years.”
Su Hansheng was slightly taken aback.
Chongjue gently placed Su Hansheng’s hand, adorned with the Sumeru Mustard Seed, on his neck, and spoke to him gently like a proper elder.
“Try it. It won’t hurt you. If you’re ruthless enough, you can keep whomever you want.”
Seeing Su Hansheng instinctively pull his hand back, Chongjue narrowed his eyes, gripping his hand tightly, and whispered, “Didn’t you tell me not to fall into your hands? Now you hold my life in your hands, why are you backing down?”
Su Hansheng’s emotions were already fluctuating wildly. Startled by Chongjue’s tone, his amber eyes trembled slightly, and his lips moved as if he wanted to say something.
Chongjue leaned forward and kissed the corner of his reddened eye: “Xiaoxiao, isn’t this what you wanted?”
To trap him in the Buddhist hall with bone chains and a barrier, so that Chongjue could belong to him forever and never leave.
Su Hansheng stared at him blankly for a long time, then suddenly withdrew his hand from Chongjue’s neck, muttering, “This…this isn’t right.”
Chongjue frowned: “What’s wrong?”
Nothing was right. In his past life, Su Hansheng had learned a whole host of twisted and heretical doctrines from Chongjue, but he had never learned to be ruthless towards those close to him.
“Go into seclusion if you want,” Su Hansheng said listlessly, turning over and pulling the quilt over his head. His voice was muffled. “Don’t come here to sow discord and invite trouble.”
Chongjue was amused by his words. He yanked off the quilt, flipped over, and pinned Su Hansheng down, coldly saying, “Didn’t you say you wanted to cultivate together? What are you doing sleeping?”
Su Hansheng was suffocating under the weight, struggling to push against Chongjue’s chest, his brows furrowed as he gasped for breath.
“I don’t want to anymore—get off me, you’re so heavy.”
Chongjue said, “Then you won’t see me for a full ten years.”
Su Hansheng turned his head away, sullenly saying, “Ten years is just a blink of an eye.”
He could just blink a few more times.
Seeing that he was still sulking, Chongjue clicked his tongue impatiently, his fingers gripping the back of Su Hansheng’s neck as he forcefully lifted him into his arms and kissed him.
Su Hansheng’s eyes widened suddenly, and he immediately struggled to push him away.
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In his past life, no matter how he was treated, Su Hansheng never entertained a thought of resistance, as if he had no will to live, and wouldn’t even struggle as he rotted in a pool of blood like a withered branch.
How long has it been since his rebirth, and he’s already developed a temper?
Seeing him laugh even after being slapped, Su Hansheng muttered a few curses inwardly.
Chongjue leaned in again, and Su Hansheng, thinking he was about to settle scores, immediately raised his hand and glared at him, indicating, “Come any closer and I’ll hit you again.”
But Chongjue casually pulled him into his embrace, his arms holding him tightly: “Don’t make trouble. Let me hold you a while longer.”
Su Hansheng stole a glance up at him, and after a long moment asked: “Once you enter seclusion, will you be able to merge?”
This sudden change to a single thought was rather unsettling.
“Who knows?” Chongjue said lazily, stifling a yawn. “It depends on when he generates evil thoughts and completely accepts me. Only then can we achieve true fusion.”
Su Hansheng furrowed his brow: “Who exactly separated you two?”
It seemed like only the evil thought was sent to Infinite Hell while the virtuous World-Honored One remained in the Three Realms—as if there was another purpose.
Chongjue smiled: “Your father.”
Chongjue never hid such things from him. He played with Su Hansheng’s fingers while casually saying: “The Heaven-Reaching Tower appears peaceful, but over these millennia it has collapsed several times. The Heavenly Way is already declining; it won’t last much longer.”
Su Hansheng was startled by this offhand remark.
The Heavenly Way is declining?
“Don’t be afraid,” Chongjue said. “If nothing unexpected happens, the next collapse of the Heaven-Reaching Tower will be in twelve years. Do whatever you wish during this time—someone will secretly protect you. We’ll discuss the rest after I emerge from seclusion.”
The previous generation’s mess was really too much.
Seeing Su Hansheng’s furrowed brow and gloomy expression, Chongjue couldn’t help but gently lift his chin and lower his head to place a tender kiss.
This time Su Hansheng didn’t struggle like before. After initial stiffness, he yielded softly, leaning half his body against Chongjue’s chest, tilting his head up to feel that warmth.
But soon, Su Hansheng vaguely felt the person holding him suddenly go rigid, even pressing his lips tightly together.
Su Hansheng was now draped completely over him, arms hooked around his neck, his eyes already hazed with moisture. A tear slid down his cheek with a blink.
He murmured confusedly: “What’s wrong?”
After a long silence, Chongjue quietly said: “Nothing.”
Su Hansheng made a small sound, tilted his head to look at Chongjue for a while, then cupped his face and leaned in for a deep kiss, whispering: “You’re mine.”
The last time he’d said this, his tone had been fierce and sickly. Now he sounded like a drowning kitten, pitifully claiming ownership.
Chongjue’s arms around Su Hansheng’s waist went completely rigid. His instinct was to turn away from the kiss, but by some divine mischief, he remained frozen, letting Su Hansheng’s tongue probe deeper.
Su Hansheng was apparently too exhausted. After speaking, he drooped limply against Chongjue and closed his eyes, soon releasing even, deep breaths as he fell into heavy sleep.
Only after feeling the person in his arms completely asleep did Chongjue dare to move, silently exhaling. He carefully placed him on the bed and pulled the rumpled brocade quilt over the youth.
Su Hansheng slept deeply, his strikingly beautiful features bearing the sickly pallor he could never quite hide.
Chongjue gazed at him for a long time, then gently stroked his hand across the youth’s face.
The talismans on Su Hansheng’s fingers quietly faded, and the restrictions on Chongjue’s body disappeared with them.
He looked at Su Hansheng for a moment, then finally rose. His form dispersed like mist as he completely left the Falling Parasol Lodge.
The entire chamber stood empty.
Su Hansheng slowly opened his eyes, staring into the darkness for a long time before closing them again.
His companion tree timidly crept in from the foot of the bed, quietly approaching to gently brush across Su Hansheng’s face twice. Water droplets clung to its withered branches.
The next morning, news spread throughout Wendao Academy that the World-Honored One had departed and been sent back to Mount Sumeru by the Vice Dean.
Yuan Qian, Wu Baili, and Qifu Zhao only heard the news in the afternoon and skipped their classes to find Su Hansheng.
Su Hansheng had forcibly broken through to Golden Core, and despite Yingzhijin providing him with countless spiritual elixirs to repair his meridians, there were still aftereffects. He’d been fine in the morning, but by midday when the sun was brightest, he began to wilt.
He was so ill he could barely move, completely feverish and delirious.
Qifu Zhao furrowed his brow and reached to touch his forehead, nearly burning his hand.
“I’ll… I’ll go get the Little Medical Immortal!”
Yuan Qian urgently nodded and leaned forward, patting Su Hansheng’s face: “Xiaoxiao, can you hear what I’m saying?”
Su Hansheng was so feverish he’d lost his mind. His face was flushed crimson, and after a long moment his eyes fluttered open, his voice hoarse: “Baili?”
Yuan Qian looked devastated: “It’s over, it’s over! My Xiaoxiao’s been burned stupid! He doesn’t even recognize people!”
None of them understood where Su Hansheng’s illness came from, and they didn’t dare carelessly move spiritual energy because of the phoenix bone in his body. They could only watch helplessly.
Wu Baili had fetched cold water and was wetting cloth to press against Su Hansheng’s forehead.
The cloth on his forehead began smoking within moments. Wu Baili’s brow furrowed: “Don’t jinx it. You’re cold-blooded anyway—transform your tail and let him hold it.”
Yuan Qian hesitated, but seeing Su Hansheng so uncomfortable he was coughing, he quickly sat on the bed edge and transformed into a snake tail to tuck under the covers and cool the youth down.
Su Hansheng weakly embraced the snake tail and finally felt better.
But Yuan Qian kept wailing: “It’s so hot! Xiaoxiao, are you planning to roast the snake tail as a side dish?! Ahhh Baili, help!”
Wu Baili continued wiping Su Hansheng’s sweat, ignoring the chaos.
In the midst of the commotion, Qifu Zhao went to fetch Zhou Gushe.
When Zhou Gushe arrived, she asked the same question: “Is he dead?”
Everyone frantically replied: “Half-dead! Please save him from the fever!”
Zhou Gushe brushed aside the useless men and quickly stepped forward. After checking his pulse for a moment, she said dismissively: “It’s just improper meridian regulation after breaking through to Golden Core, causing spiritual energy to accumulate and triggering fever. Why call me for such a trivial matter?”
The three of them exchanged bewildered looks.
Qifu Zhao caught the key point and asked in shock: “Breaking through to Golden Core?”
“Yes,” Zhou Gushe said concisely. “Give him some spiritual elixirs to regulate his condition, then have his elders come adjust his meridians. That’s all.”
Everyone quickly nodded in agreement.
Wu Baili patted Su Hansheng: “Young Lord, where is your disciple mark?”
Su Hansheng’s eyes were open, but it took him a long time to respond: “Huh? What?”
“Your disciple mark. We need to find your elder to come adjust your meridians.”
Su Hansheng was completely feverish and delirious. He only caught the words “find an elder,” blanked out for a moment, then suddenly let out a wail: “Uncle! Uncle…”
Yuan Qian, Wu Baili, and Qifu Zhao, who knew that the Young Lord had just “tragically lost his beloved,” felt their hearts sink with a bad premonition and instinctively moved to stop him.
Su Hansheng sobbed uncontrollably: “Uncle, why won’t you dual cultivate with me?! You already kissed me… ummmm!!!”
Yuan Qian, Wu Baili, and Qifu Zhao practically flew over, their three hands simultaneously clapping over Su Hansheng’s mouth in perfect synchronization, cutting off any further provocative words.
Zhou Gushe frowned at them.
The three forced out dry laughs: “The Young Lord’s been burned delirious, he’s just… just talking nonsense, hehe.”
Zhou Gushe, who couldn’t be bothered with anything unrelated to medicine, made a sound of acknowledgment and stood to leave.
Wu Baili called after her: “Little Medical Immortal, can only an elder help the Young Lord clear his meridians?”
Su Hansheng’s only known elder was Ying Zhijin. If they called Ying Zhijin over and he heard Su Hansheng’s delirious babbling, the little lord would probably get beaten before his fever even broke.
Zhou Gushe didn’t care about such trifles: “Nascent Soul stage or above will do.”
Wu Baili finally nodded: “Safe travels, Little Medical Immortal.”
Zhou Gushe left in a huff.
The three of them were all at Golden Core stage and couldn’t help Su Hansheng. But calling their senior brothers and sisters risked them spreading Su Hansheng’s delirious nonsense everywhere.
Qifu Zhao held the disciple mark and hesitated with furrowed brows.
Su Hansheng lay there weakly, barely breathing but still ranting: “Pretending to be a big bad wolf kissing me… I was just letting you off the hook—if I’d exposed you, your reputation for a lifetime would be ruined!”
“Dual cultivation… listen to me, Uncle!”
The three of them massaged their foreheads. With every “Uncle,” they wanted to rip their own ears off and gnaw on them like snacks.
Su Hansheng was way too bold. That was the World-Honored One of Mount Sumeru! Having lustful thoughts was one thing, but actually daring to invite him for dual cultivation?!
It was reasonable to suspect the World-Honored One had rushed into seclusion because he was frightened by Su Hansheng.
Just as everyone was deliberating, Qifu Zhao, who’d been watching the disciple mark, suddenly said: “…He’s back.”
Yuan Qian, who was still being scalded by the snake tail, asked in confusion: “What’s back?”
Qifu Zhao showed them the transmission mirror on the disciple mark.
“The senior brothers and sisters who went out to hunt the Bone-Eroding Trees have returned from their trial.”