Chapter Nineteen

-

Cen Yan really had returned.

Presumably, the demon spy had also been caught.

Everything was indeed as written in the original text: once the spy was caught, the feelings between the main lead and his love interests began to heat up.

All around, night mist billowed. The shrubs in the residence were pitch-black patches.

Candlelight streaming from the room elongated Chu Rong's slender figure. Behind his mask, his gaze swept over the two handsome men not far away. A faint smile curled on his water-like thin lips: "Am I interrupting?"

Interrupting?

Cen Yan snapped back to attention, instinctively turning his head to find Xu Ziyang standing inexplicably behind him.

"Nonsense." Cen Yan turned back, frowning slightly, his voice cold: "Senior Brother and I are perfectly innocent!"

Innocent?

Chu Rong's brow rose slightly. Meeting Xu Ziyang's deep, obscure gaze, he let out a knowing, mocking chuckle. Who would believe that? He wasn't blind.

This sound fell on Cen Yan's ears, making him think Chu Rong was about to target Xu Ziyang again as he had in the past. His fair face darkened, his voice dropping another few degrees: "Chu Rong, don't forget what you promised me."

Chu Rong had explicitly stated he wouldn't bother him anymore and had agreed to dissolve the engagement in six months. If that was the case, Chu Rong was nothing more than an unrelated person to him. What he did was none of Chu Rong's business.

"I know." Chu Rong smiled lightly, his voice rising at the end, as if trying to steal one's heart. He had always remembered. Cen Yan didn't need to remind him every time.

If he weren't worried about potential accidents during these six months, he would have revealed the method to dissolve the engagement a few days earlier.

Knowing and still saying such things?

Cen Yan's face frosted over, his tone cold as ice: "Are you trying to go back on your word?"

Xu Ziyang's gaze moved from the jade-white fingertips, his dark eyes fixed on the terrifying mask on Chu Rong's face, growing darker.

"No, I won't go back on my word." Chu Rong had no interest in interfering between the main lead and his love interests. In fact, he was quite happy to see their relationship deepen.

Chu Rong glanced teasingly at Xu Ziyang. His words were ambiguous in who they were meant for: "I said I would never bother you, and I will keep my word."

Since transmigrating into the book a few days ago, he indeed hadn't pestered Cen Yan like the original owner. After their last unpleasant parting, he and Cen Yan hadn't seen each other for days.

Chu Rong had never been in love, but he knew that obstructing someone else's romantic fate was to invite heavenly retribution. He suppressed his smile and walked straight down the corridor, out of Wusong Residence. As his blue-green sleeves fluttered, a faint orchid fragrance drifted in the air.

His direction seemed to be towards the back mountain.

"Playing hard to get!" Cen Yan's face was cold. He didn't believe a single word Chu Rong said.

Cen Yan turned around, the coldness fading from his voice as he said to Xu Ziyang: "Senior Brother, don't take his words to heart."

Xu Ziyang slowly averted his gaze, looked down at Cen Yan for a moment. His deep, dark eyes held a hint of something Cen Yan couldn't decipher.

But it vanished in an instant.

Xu Ziyang's lips curved into a warm, jade-like smile: "I won't. I'm just a bit surprised that the dissolution of your engagement turned out to be true."

When Cen Yan had mentioned it last time, Xu Ziyang hadn't really believed him. Now, he was about thirty percent convinced.

"You two are not suited for each other." Xu Ziyang paused slightly. His voice was a bit low and husky, as if hiding some emotion. "Dissolving this engagement is a good thing."

Cen Yan strongly agreed. Without the engagement, he could finally be free of Chu Rong's harassment.

-

Chu Rong was unaware of the two leads' thoughts.

He soaked in the hot spring, his glossy black hair wet and loose around him. Two pools of clear water rested on his delicate collarbones. His skin was as smooth and fair as jade.

When the mist-like white apparition appeared in the back mountain, this was the scene that greeted it.

The apparition paused briefly, its hand forming a loose fist against its lips as if clearing its throat. It turned its eyes away uncomfortably.

The sound of splashing water continued for about the time it takes to burn a stick of incense. When Chu Rong emerged from the pool, the apparition looked back.

The man stood gracefully by the pool, head slightly bowed, tying the sash at his waist. His ten fingertips were slightly pink, and there were traces of water on the backs of his hands, making them look somewhat translucent.

His profile was like jade, his lips stained a deep red by the warm mist, so beautiful it was hard to look away.

The apparition's invisible gaze lingered on the man's face for a moment before quickly shifting away again.

Chu Rong, unaware, put his mask back on and walked out.

The apparition stood behind him, quietly watching his retreating back for a while. It then slowly walked out of the back mountain, its mist-like form passing over the grass without bending a single blade or rustling a leaf.

The apparition followed Chu Rong all the way back to Wusong Residence.

Cen Yan's door was closed, and the room was quiet. Xu Ziyang must have already left. Chu Rong withdrew his gaze, pushed the door open, and entered his room.

The candle was still burning. The apparition, entering a step behind, took in everything in the room with a single glance—the last time, it had stopped at the door and hadn't entered, so it hadn't looked closely. Now, it saw the room's decor was very simple, like the quarters of an outer sect disciple.

So, had this person been busy with sect affairs for the past two days?

The apparition stood quietly in the middle of the room, watching Chu Rong dry his hair and lie down on the bed. Its ethereal form slowly dissipated, leaving no trace behind.

-

At the same moment.

Peak of Wangxian Peak, Qingxu Sect.

The man on the white jade couch slowly opened his eyes, which seemed to hold a thousand years of ice.

The scene he had just witnessed surfaced in his mind. His sharp, imposing brow moved ever so slightly. The spiritual energy surrounding him rapidly rotated and, as if guided, condensed into a floor plan of a residence in mid-air.

Was there a sect like this among the Immortal Sects?

-

As Cen Yan had predicted, the news of the demon spy's capture quickly spread throughout the sect.

The previous days of unease were replaced by a surge of morale. The disciples were all extremely excited, eagerly awaiting the Disciplinary Hall's interrogation results, ready to skin and flay the spy alive to vent their hatred.

However, after a day and a night, there was still no news from the Disciplinary Hall.

Main Peak, Main Hall.

Lian Ci had been waiting for Yan Zhan to report on the interrogation. Naturally, he also noticed something was amiss. With Yan Zhan's methods, no one should have been able to hold out this long under his hands.

Lian Ci frowned and turned to look at He Ming: "Elder He, go to the Disciplinary Hall and see what's happening."

"Yes." He Ming accepted the order.

Xu Ziyang stepped forward, standing in the center of the hall. His voice was low and gentle: "Sect Leader, let me go with Elder He."

It was just a small matter. Whoever went would be fine. Lian Ci nodded his assent: "Granted."

Xu Ziyang bowed to express his thanks and then exited the main hall with He Ming.

Arriving at the Disciplinary Hall, Yan Zhan wasn't in the main hall.

The disciple guarding the door said: "Elder He, Senior Martial Brother, please wait a moment. I will inform the Hall Master."

"No need." He Ming was eager to find out about the interrogation progress. He stopped the disciple and asked, "Is Hall Master Yan still in the dungeon?"

The disciple replied truthfully: "Yes. The Hall Master is in the dungeon interrogating the demon spy and hasn't come out yet."

Still interrogating?

He Ming and Xu Ziyang exchanged a glance, both seeing surprise on each other's faces. Was this spy's mouth that tough?

"Take me to the dungeon immediately!" He Ming ordered sternly.

In Qingyang Tianzong, He Ming held the highest status after the Sect Leader. How dared the disciple disobey? He immediately led the way for He Ming and the other.

The spy was held in the deepest, darkest dungeon. The path was winding and complex. It took nearly the time for a quarter of an incense stick to burn before the disciple led them there.

The dungeon was dimly lit. As the heavy iron-barred door was pushed open, a thick wave of blood scent rushed out, accompanied by the sound of sharp blades cutting through flesh, sending chills down one's spine.

Yan Zhan's tall figure stood with his back to them before a torture rack. His pale hands were bloody. One hand held a specially made sharp silver knife, its blade drenched in blood. Between two fingers of his other hand, he held a piece of still-warm human skin, dripping with blood.

"Hall Master," the disciple reported nervously, "Elder He and Senior Martial Brother are here."

Upon hearing this, Yan Zhan turned his head. There were splatters of blood on his face and eyebrows. His eyes were black without a hint of light, his expression as sinister as the King of Hell from the underworld.

Yan Zhan was the Hall Master of the Disciplinary Hall. In terms of seniority, he was on the same generation as He Ming, but he was only a little over a hundred and twenty years old. He had formed his golden core early, so his appearance was much younger than He Ming's. He showed no signs of age. On the contrary, upon closer inspection, his features were quite handsome and heroic.

Yan Zhan tossed aside the piece of skin he was holding and turned around, walking step by step towards the group. His voice was devoid of any warmth: "What are you here for?"

As he moved away, the torture rack behind him was revealed.

A person, completely covered in blood, was bound to the rack with their arms spread wide. Their head drooped down, hair disheveled, covering their face. Dried blood caked their hair.

Their clothes were riddled with cuts from whips and knives, the wounds gaping. Their limbs were bent at unnatural angles. Iron nails were driven into all ten of their fingers. Bits of bloody flesh were exposed here and there on their arms and legs. At their feet lay pieces of peeled-off skin.

Was this Wen Yuan? The demon spy?

The disciple guiding them was used to coming in and out of the dungeon and was unfazed. He Ming and Xu Ziyang, however, were witnessing such a bloody scene for the first time. They were both momentarily shocked and speechless.

But He Ming, after all, was more experienced. He quickly regained his composure.

The dungeon floor was covered in blood, leaving no place to stand. He Ming stood at the entrance and stated his purpose: "Did he confess?"

Yan Zhan didn't speak. His eyes grew darker, making him look even more sinister.

The answer was obvious: no.

This spy's backbone was tougher than Yan Zhan had anticipated. He was the first to have lasted this long under his hands.

"Report to the Sect Leader for me. Give me a bit more time." Yan Zhan said coldly. He would make this spy realize that resistance was the stupidest choice.

For now, this was the only option.

After all, the demon was locked in the dungeon and couldn't escape. They had all the time in the world to wear him down. They'd see how long he could last.

"I'll convey your message." He Ming stroked his beard and turned to leave the dungeon.

The person bound to the rack, who had been motionless, suddenly let out two intermittent, weak coughs: "If you want me to confess, why... why go through all this trouble?"

Wen Yuan's neck moved with difficulty as he spat out a mouthful of blood. He panted heavily and raised his head. An iron nail was visibly embedded in one of his eyes, red and white matter oozing down from the socket.

Qingyang Tianzong was merely an insignificant, small sect. He had infiltrated many sects, large and small, but had never thought he'd fail here.

The first time was an accident; he was careless while practicing and was seen. The second time, however, was a real blunder. He fell victim to a mortal. If that person hadn't deliberately lured him to the teleportation array, causing him to lose Xu Ziyang as a hostage, he wouldn't have been put in such a passive position.

Thinking about what happened in the secret realm forest, Wen Yuan felt an indescribable rush of blood to his head. Although his whole body ached terribly, his mind boiled with uncontrollable excitement.

With his mouth full of blood, he gave a bloody grin: "Bring... bring one person... over. Let me have my... way... with them. I'll confess... immediately."

Better to die under a peony, a ghost still romantic.

He probably couldn't escape this time. But if he could have one moment of pleasure before he died, it would be worth it.

Author's Note:

Sorry for the wait~