Chapter Five

Chu Rong released his fingers and pressed his fingertips along the edge of the mask, tracing its contour. He didn't know what spot he pressed, but he heard a very faint click — and the mask, which had seemed fixed in place just a moment before, separated from his face.

Chu Rong slowly lifted the mask away. As it moved downward, a face of almost unreal delicacy was revealed bit by bit.

A high, straight nose bridge. Eyes and brows that were breathtakingly gorgeous — devastatingly beautiful, almost to the point of otherworldliness. A pair of deeply expressive peach blossom eyes, their inner corners curved inward and outer corners curving outward, the tail of each eye tilting ever so slightly upward. A single glance from them felt as though it could reach into one's chest and pluck the heart clean out, leaving one knowing nothing but the rise and fall of one's own heartbeat in the wake of that flowing gaze.

Skin smooth and luminous, white as jade. The place on his lip where he had bitten through it was oozing vivid red beads of blood, staining lips that had already been rather pale to a deep, rich crimson — as though painted with lip rouge.

Within the blazing beauty that was already his own, it added yet another thread of bewitching, intoxicating allure.

Chu Rong was entirely unaware of any of this. He lowered his head and examined the mask in his hand, looking at the spot his finger had pressed — near the ear area of the mask, there was a small raised protrusion. That must have been the switch controlling the mask so it wouldn't fall off.

The inside of the mask was smooth, with a faint medicinal fragrance drifting from it, mingled with an elusive, rich scent of orchids.

Chu Rong turned it over to look at the front. Even with some mental preparation, he still felt his breath catch and his heart give a startled lurch when he finally saw the mask clearly — the face of a ghoulish devil.

The mask was genuinely rather ugly and frightening to look at. That much, at least, perfectly matched the description in the original text.

Chu Rong set the mask on his lap, bent his fingers and wiped the sweat from his neck. Sweat and blood mingled together, instantly staining his pale knuckles red.

Chu Rong paid it no mind, absently smearing the blood away on his fingers, then reached up to feel his face. Unexpectedly, he didn't find a single sunken scar beneath his touch.

Chu Rong was mildly startled. The feel of the original owner's face didn't seem like that of someone horribly disfigured.

Chu Rong looked around the room but found no bronze mirror. He had no choice but to let it go, and not pursue the matter of the original owner's face any further. This wasn't the moment to be worrying about such details anyway.

Chu Rong lowered his gaze and carefully turned over in his mind everything in the book that related to the original owner.

The original owner's birth mother, Jiang Huo, was an orphan with profound medical skills. She had grown up deep in the mountains from childhood, making her living by practicing medicine and gathering herbs in exchange for silver. On one of her outings to gather herbs, she rescued the Marquis of An'guo, who had been hunted down and left unconscious. She was then deceived and seduced by the Marquis, and brought back to the marquis's estate.

Only once she was inside the estate did Jiang Huo discover that the Marquis was already married, and had no shortage of concubines and mistresses. She had been cheated — but by then she was already with child and had no way out, and was left with no choice but to give birth to the original owner.

Jiang Huo had grown up in the deep mountains and was simple and pure by nature. She was no match whatsoever for the scheming noble ladies of the capital. She was quickly cast aside by the Marquis, and her days grew increasingly difficult. She didn't live long before she passed away in depression and grief, withering like a flower.

After her death, the main wife of the marquis's household found a convenient excuse to send the original owner off to live on a rural estate, to keep him from remaining in the capital and bringing disgrace upon the marquis's name.

One night, for reasons unknown, a fire broke out at the estate and the raging flames engulfed it entirely. The original owner barely managed to escape with his life, but his face was disfigured in the process.

When the heavily wounded protagonist shou Cen Yan and the original owner crossed paths, the original owner was living alone in a remote courtyard. Having been exposed to medicine from a young age, he knew enough to treat Cen Yan's injuries and nurse him back to health.

Once Cen Yan recovered, the original owner told him that the fire had left him with a chronic illness, which no mortal physician could cure, and demanded that Cen Yan take him back to the sect to find a treatment.

It was a perfectly reasonable request, and the original owner was Cen Yan's savior to boot. After repeated insistence from the original owner, Cen Yan had no choice but to agree.

Before returning to the sect, the original owner, citing the need to ensure Cen Yan wouldn't go back on his word midway, had also forced him into a marriage contract.

The bone-deep pain he had experienced just now must have been the illness flaring up, Chu Rong thought.

After entering the Qingyang Heavenly Sect, the original owner had used Cen Yan's name to run rampant and accumulate wealth. His methods were subtle and hidden, with him acting as the hand behind the scenes most of the time. It wasn't until three years later that Cen Yan noticed something amiss and investigated, eventually uncovering everything.

In the original storyline, the original owner was also brought before the entire sect to be judged, confined to Cloud Ridge Peak, and executed after the marriage contract was dissolved.

But after entering Cloud Ridge Peak, the original owner was subjected to countless torments, which filled him with resentment and bitterness. And so one night, he used a pretext to lure Cen Yan to his side, took the opportunity to drug him, and attempted to defile Cen Yan — intending to drag him down into ruin together.

But he failed to succeed. Several of the protagonist gongs who came looking for Cen Yan walked in on them, and the original owner was beaten half to death, left bedridden for two months before he could barely get out of bed.

However, the protagonist gongs were not satisfied with this. The group of them conspired together, quietly abducted the original owner, tortured and humiliated him to death by every means at their disposal, then discarded his body in the back mountains to be fed to the wild animals.

As for Cen Yan, the backlash from the Heavenly Dao oath left his cultivation stagnant, and he was despondent for a long time. It was only after the several gongs moved heaven and earth to seek out rare treasures of the cultivation world and present them to him that he was able to continue cultivating, and he eventually rallied. The romantic storylines of the novel progressed significantly from that point onward.

When he had first read that part of the story, the comment section had been filled with readers screaming in excitement. He had politely left a comment himself, saying it was indeed a great ship.

Now that Chu Rong had transmigrated into the book, he couldn't feel even the slightest bit of excitement about any of it.

Survival was an instinct innate to all living beings, and Chu Rong had absolutely no desire to die. Especially knowing full well the gap between a mortal and a cultivator — these people could crush him to death without even lifting a finger.

If he wanted to live, he naturally couldn't conduct himself the way the original owner had. Chu Rong turned and put the mask back on his face. For now, he had better behave himself.

With his mind made up, the tension in Chu Rong's nerves eased somewhat. He had just endured a bout of the illness, and the residual ache throughout his body left him with little energy for anything.

Not caring that he was drenched in sweat, Chu Rong leaned his head against the couch railing and closed his eyes, intending to doze for a while — when a sudden sound of footsteps came from outside the door.

Chu Rong snapped his eyes open, and saw Cen Yan carrying several white porcelain medicine bottles, stepping through the doorway on his long legs in a few swift strides.

"Three of the disciples had both their eyes gouged out and their tongues cut off at the root. They suffered extreme torment before they died."

Cen Yan was of similar height to Chu Rong, and their builds were not very different. He lowered his head slightly and set the medicine bottles on the writing desk by the window, his pleasant voice carrying a certain weight: "I don't know what technique you used to deceive the Truth Pearl in front of everyone, but if you have even a shred of conscience, you will go to the Hall of Eternal Life tomorrow and see them off on their way."

Three days had passed since the three disciples died. Tomorrow was the seventh day after their deaths.

Cen Yan raised his head and looked at Chu Rong: "Regarding the dissolution of the marriage contract — my decision will not change. When the sect's Guardian Formation opens half a year from now, whether or not the contract has been successfully dissolved, you are to leave on your own. You and I will be even."