Chapter Twenty-Two

Xu Ziyang emerged from the main hall late into the night.

A crescent moon hung in the sky, flickering in and out of the clouds. Returning to the Xuanjian Pavilion, he found the candles burning bright, the place silent. The main hall was empty. The servant, who usually greeted him promptly, was nowhere to be seen.

The servant had been with Xu Ziyang for years, diligent and meticulous, never slack. Even when Xu Ziyang returned late, the servant would be waiting in the main hall, ready for orders.

This was the first time Xu Ziyang had entered the pavilion without his servant coming to attend him.

Could something have happened to him?

Many things had occurred recently, and Xu Ziyang had been out often, inevitably neglecting matters within the pavilion. His brows furrowed slightly, a hint of concern on his refined face. He turned and headed towards the servant's quarters.

The servant lived in a quiet side courtyard of the Xuanjian Pavilion, to be close by and attend to Xu Ziyang's needs. The main room's door was open, the interior lit with candles. Entering the courtyard, Xu Ziyang immediately saw the servant sitting behind a low table, head bowed. He held a carving knife in one hand and a polished piece of wood in the other, carving stroke by stroke.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, his face flushed red. His breath came in rapid gasps, his chest heaving. He swallowed occasionally, his expression one of deep absorption and excitement, utterly unlike his usual self.

His legs were crossed, the hem of his clothes draped over his knees, piled high with wood shavings. Some had even fallen near the legs of the table.

Xu Ziyang hadn't concealed his presence, yet he was already at the door, and the servant still hadn't noticed him. He sat motionless, the room filled with the sound of his heavy breathing.

"Ahem." Xu Ziyang coughed deliberately, hand against his lips, to alert the servant to his presence.

Whether because the sound was too soft or the servant was too absorbed, he didn't react. The carving knife moved as if treating something precious, carefully carving the figure.

Xu Ziyang had to cough again, louder.

"S-Senior Martial Brother?" This time, the servant reacted. He looked up, saw Xu Ziyang standing at the door, and his expression of absorption immediately changed.

The servant's pupils dilated in shock, his face turning deathly pale. Uncontrollable alarm flashed in his eyes.

The muscles in his face twitched. His sturdy arms trembled like reeds in the wind. The carving knife slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor. His jaw quivered.

Why was Senior Martial Brother here?

Panicking, the servant scrambled to stand, intending to greet Xu Ziyang. But as he rose halfway, a sharp, painful tug came from beneath his clothes, causing him to wince.

Realizing what it was, his body stiffened. The blood drained from his face, then rushed back, flushing it crimson.

Frantically, he pulled at his clothes, trying to cover himself, instinctively turning slightly to the side, as if hiding something from view.

Wood shavings scattered from his lap, falling at his feet. The servant hurriedly bowed to Xu Ziyang, his voice stammering: "I didn't know Senior Martial Brother had returned. I will go to the main hall immediately."

As he bowed, his hands clasped together, the wooden figure in his palm was exposed to the candlelight.

Xu Ziyang's gentle expression didn't change. His gaze swept over the servant, landing on his clasped hands: "You carve?"

Xu Ziyang knew the servant came from the mortal realm but hadn't known he possessed carving skills.

The carved figure was unfinished, most of it hidden in the servant's hand. Xu Ziyang could only vaguely make out a human shape—tall and slender—but couldn't tell if it was male or female.

The servant followed Xu Ziyang's gaze, and his expression changed again. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping down his temples. The flush in his face drained once more.

He hurriedly hid the carving behind his back and fell to his knees with a thud. The tug beneath his clothes caused another sharp pain, but he ignored it. Pale-lipped, he kowtowed nervously, begging for forgiveness: "I was neglectful of my duties. Please punish me, Senior Martial Brother!"

"It's fine." It was a minor matter, not worthy of punishment. Xu Ziyang wasn't the type to be harsh on servants. He could tolerate such a small hobby.

Xu Ziyang smiled warmly, his presence reassuring: "It's late. You need not attend to me tonight. Rest early."

"Thank you, Senior Martial Brother!" The servant remained kneeling until Xu Ziyang's footsteps faded from the courtyard. Only then did his tense shoulders slump, and he let out a long, relieved sigh.

He wiped the cold sweat from his brow with his sleeve, then grabbed the edge of the low table to stand. Another painful tug from beneath his clothes made his face flush from his ears to the back of his neck.

Yet he didn't stop carving. After a long, slow breath, he sat back down behind the low table, picked up the carving knife, and continued carefully working on the wooden figure.

The candles in the side courtyard burned for a long time, as did the sound of heavy, labored breathing.

-

The next day.

The sky was just beginning to lighten. The silhouette of the golden crow peeked through the clouds on the horizon. Wusong Residence stood on the mountaintop, surrounded by swirling mist. A thin layer of vapor permeated the residence.

Behind a closed door, a strikingly beautiful young man lay on his back on the bed. His black hair spread across the soft pillow. His thick, fan-like lashes fluttered slightly as he slowly opened his eyes.

Chu Rong hadn't slept well that night. His neck ached persistently, each breath accompanied by a pulling sensation.

He raised his hand, the sleeve sliding down to his wrist, and touched his neck. Overnight, the bruises had turned purple-black, looking even more frightening against his fair, delicate skin.

But Chu Rong couldn't see them.

His pale lips parted in a soft sigh. He lowered his hand, picked up the mask from beside his pillow, put it on, and got off the bed.

Passing the desk by the window, his tall, slender form paused slightly. The medicine Xu Ziyang had left before leaving was still sitting there.

Chu Rong picked up the small, porcelain-white bottle, half a palm in size, cool to the touch from the moisture in Wusong Residence. Given Xu Ziyang's status in Qingyang Tianzong, the medicine was likely of high quality.

His cool, jade-like fingertips traced the bottle. His earlier doubts resurfaced. Behind his mask, a faint, knowing smile touched his lips: "Surely it's not still because I saved his life?"

If so, then Xu Ziyang truly surprised him.

Chu Rong had thought that, given the original owner's history with Xu Ziyang, giving him the Congzong Pearl and promising to protect him once would have been the limit. He hadn't expected Xu Ziyang to value this debt of gratitude so much.

However, this might be a good thing for him. If necessary, he could even use it, leveraging Xu Ziyang against Pei Zhan to ensure a smoother path for the next six months.

As expected, after Pei Zhan returned to the main hall yesterday, he would have reported everything he extracted from Wen Yuan's memories with the Soul Searching Art.

Wen Yuan held a high position among the demons. The intelligence in his memories was considerable. In the later stages, Cen Yan used this intelligence to unite the Immortal Sects, nearly exterminating the demons and establishing Qingyang Tianzong's reputation.

Combined with Cen Yan later breaking through to Nascent Soul, becoming one of only three Nascent Soul cultivators in the cultivation world, Qingyang Tianzong's fame soared, becoming unparalleled for a time.

Chu Rong remembered that near the end of the original text, Qingyang Tianzong had become the second-largest sect in the cultivation world.

The top sect, of course, remained Qingxu Sect. Qingxu Sect had a Nascent Soul cultivator and the only Spirit Severing cultivator in the three realms, Venerable Ning Yuan. No one could challenge their position.

When Chu Rong was reading "Tian Xiao Lu," he had thought Ning Yuan might become Cen Yan's master—after all, Cen Yan had reached the highest level in Qingyang Tianzong. To progress further, he would need a more powerful master. Many such stories followed this pattern. However, until the very end of the original text, this Venerable remained in seclusion. His name appeared only a few times; he never once made an appearance.

And after yesterday's confrontation, Chu Rong wasn't worried about Pei Zhan exposing him. Pei Zhan still didn't recognize his own feelings for Cen Yan and didn't care about him, but he cared about his master. He wouldn't allow Lian Ci's reputation to be damaged.

But Pei Zhan acted impulsively, often unpredictably. Chu Rong preferred to be cautious, an act of foresight.

And indeed, as Chu Rong expected, Pei Zhan hadn't mentioned him at all yesterday.

-

Main Peak, Main Hall.

There was too much intelligence from Wen Yuan's memories. Lian Ci and his group gathered to discuss it, spending most of the day.

"We'll continue tomorrow." Lian Ci rubbed his temples, looking at Pei Zhan below: "Zhan'er, don't forget to go to the Disciplinary Hall."

Pei Zhan was to receive punishment; Lian Ci had informed Yan Zhan yesterday. This time, Pei Zhan had truly overstepped; there was no escaping it.

Pei Zhan's eyelids drooped lazily as he agreed, walking out of the main hall without hurry. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of two figures ahead and paused slightly.

"Don't worry," Xu Ziyang on the left said soothingly, his voice gentle. "The demons won't succeed. Elder He won't let anything happen to you."

"I know." Cen Yan walked beside him, his cool voice low. His handsome face was serious. "I'm not worried about myself."

He was just thinking about when the demons could be annihilated. They had committed so many evils, taken so many innocent lives. Such people didn't deserve to live.

Xu Ziyang knew Cen Yan well. How could he not see what he was thinking? He smiled helplessly and shook his head: "Annihilating the demons is certainly necessary. But this is a major matter. Relying solely on Qingyang's strength, I'm afraid..."

Before he could finish, Xu Ziyang noticed the tall man not far away. He raised an eyebrow: "Junior Brother Pei?"

Pei Zhan?

Cen Yan turned, meeting Pei Zhan's gold-flecked eyes. Instinctively, he moved to block Xu Ziyang—Senior Brother and Pei Zhan had never gotten along. With Senior Brother still injured, he couldn't use much spiritual power. If they clashed, he might not be able to participate in the Inner Sect Competition in six months.

They were close, their posture suggesting intimacy.

Jealous? Pei Zhan withdrew his gaze with a dismissive snort. Impossible. He didn't like Cen Yan.

Instead... unbidden, a pair of captivating peach blossom eyes surfaced in his mind. Pei Zhan's eyes darkened. He suddenly changed direction and walked towards the two.

A flicker of surprise crossed Xu Ziyang's eyes. He kindly reminded him: "Junior Brother Pei, Cen Yan and I are going back to Wusong Residence. The Disciplinary Hall isn't this way."

"I know." Pei Zhan looked up lazily, a hint of mockery on his lips. "What, you can go to Wusong Residence, but I can't?"

Xu Ziyang's lips curved into a patient smile: "Of course not. Wusong Residence isn't my residence. Whether you can go is not for me to say."

"Then why ask? So meddlesome." Pei Zhan didn't spare Xu Ziyang a second glance, striding past them towards Wusong Residence.

Xu Ziyang frowned slightly, about to say something, but Cen Yan shook his head, his lips pressed into a line: "Let him go."

When Pei Zhan wanted to do something, no one could stop him.

Xu Ziyang knew this well. His smile was warm as he said nothing more.

The two followed a step behind Pei Zhan. When they entered Wusong Residence, they saw Pei Zhan stride past Cen Yan's room, stopping in front of the room next door.

Xu Ziyang's step faltered. The smile on his face vanished.

Author's Note:

Sorry for the wait~