Chapter Twenty-Eight

The change in Cen Yan's demeanor was too subtle for Chu Rong to notice.

Behind his terrifying mask, Chu Rong's pale lips pressed flat. His gaze cooled, and his smiling face became expressionless.

In the original text, Cen Yan valued relationships deeply. Though the spirit beasts had developed some intelligence over centuries, their instincts remained dominant—bloodthirsty and violent. Just reading about it, Chu Rong could imagine how badly Qing Yuan must have suffered.

Having witnessed Qing Yuan's condition firsthand, Cen Yan would be upset. It was understandable for him to lash out at who he believed was responsible—the original owner.

But Chu Rong's understanding only went so far. He wouldn't accept being the target of that anger.

The white figure beside Chu Rong felt its temperature drop, a chill emanating from it that could freeze the heart. But the restriction hid it from everyone present.

Candlelight flickered. Orchid fragrance drifted through the air, whether from the window plant or Chu Rong himself.

"I have no heart?" Chu Rong laughed mockingly, his gaze turning cold. "If I had no heart, you would have died three years ago."

Cen Yan's voice was grim. He barely heard Chu Rong, his cold eyes fixed on the mask before him: "You know what you did to Qing Yuan. Don't you feel any guilt now that he's suffering? You've lived in this sect for three years. Do you feel no fellowship for your fellow disciples?"

Fellowship? In the original text, when the original owner was imprisoned on Yunji Peak and tormented, no one showed him any mercy.

Qing Yuan was severely injured, but at least he survived. The original owner's bones were fed to the beasts in the back mountain—though the text said he deserved it, didn't Qing Yuan as well?

Chu Rong's gaze grew icier. The corners of his eyes lifted in a mocking smile: "I didn't cause his suffering. I owe him nothing. Why should I feel guilt? Could a mere mortal like me control spirit beasts?"

"And still you quibble!" Cen Yan's eyes were cold as frost, his fists clenched tighter, nails digging deeper, more blood dripping between his fingers.

Chu Rong, unfairly accused, lost his temper.

He lowered his gaze to the blood on Cen Yan's hands and continued unsparingly: "Cen Yan, you wronged me once, and you want to do it again? I saved your life. I am your fiancé, not your enemy. Don't throw mud on me! As a cultivator, to judge someone on baseless accusations and false evidence—why not go to the mortal world and beg the officials for justice!"

Fiancé?

The white figure looked down at the man beside him. His pupils contracted, a tremor spreading through his eyes. He was already bound by engagement?

Chu Rong's words were harsh. Cen Yan's chest seethed with disgust and resentment, ready to burst forth: "You..."

"Do you know," Chu Rong interrupted, walking to stand before Cen Yan. His silky black hair slipped over his shoulders, orchid fragrance drifting from his collar, "why Qing Yuan tried to frame me?"

Qing Yuan framed Chu Rong?

Nonsense!

Cen Yan instinctively wanted to argue, but Chu Rong's brow lifted, his gaze shifting. He looked like a soul-stealing demon, impossible to look away from, even with open mockery in his eyes.

Cen Yan froze, his gaze fixing.

In his sea of consciousness, the light spot glowed again, but differently. The purple smoke coiled around it stirred, sensing better nourishment.

"I have leverage on him." Chu Rong's words hit Cen Yan like thunder, snapping him back: "First, he likes you. As your fiancé, I'm naturally a thorn in his side."

"Impossible!" Cen Yan argued instinctively. "He's just my junior. How could he like me? Absurd!"

How could it be impossible?

Chu Rong looked at Cen Yan. Even disheveled, his beauty was undeniable. In the original text, Cen Yan was adored by everyone. Within Qingyang Tianzong alone, there were two male leads. In six months, when the formation opened, Cen Yan would leave and meet three more, all of high status.

That Qing Yuan, a minor character, would like Cen Yan was perfectly normal.

Chu Rong ignored Cen Yan's protest and continued: "Second, he committed crimes in the mortal world. Afraid of exposure, he killed his parents and the whole village before joining Qingyang Tianzong. He feared I would tell you, so he tried everything to eliminate me. When he failed to frame me in the front hall, he forced me to kneel in the mourning hall for days, wanting to cripple my legs. Yesterday at the training ground, he threatened me again."

Chu Rong's words were half-truth.

True: both points were facts.

False: the original owner knew nothing of Qing Yuan's crimes. If he had, he would have implicated Qing Yuan when forced to confess.

In the original text, Qing Yuan did target the original owner because of the first reason. The second was uncovered later when Cen Yan investigated the sect. But Chu Rong saw no harm in using it now.

He didn't want to use plot knowledge to hurt anyone, but Qing Yuan was an exception. In the end, Qing Yuan would die at Cen Yan's hands anyway.

Kneel in the mourning hall?

Threats?

The white figure's eyes froze. Its gaze shifted from Chu Rong to Cen Yan, like ice piercing bone. The oppressive presence around it surged.

No wonder Chu Rong was injured so often. Even his future partner wasn't on his side.

The white figure's earlier admiration for Cen Yan's talent vanished. To let a defenseless mortal partner be bullied by fellow disciples—no matter how talented, a lack of responsibility was unforgivable.

"Impossible!" Cen Yan argued again without hesitation. "Qing Yuan isn't like that!"

Qing Yuan was an orphan, yes, but his parents died of illness, not as Chu Rong claimed... Cen Yan didn't want to think about it.

"So I deserve to be the villain?" Chu Rong asked, his words heavy. The original owner might have been, but he wasn't. "Cen Yan, have you forgotten Yun Zhi's case so soon?"

Cen Yan had cultivated for thirty years, yet remained naive, thinking everyone in the sect was good.

Yun Zhi's case had indeed been the disciples' fault. Cen Yan hadn't forgotten. Could Qing Yuan's case be the same? Would he be wrong again?

Cen Yan's expression froze. It took him a long moment to speak: "I don't believe you. Chu Rong, no matter what you say, I won't believe you."

If Chu Rong knew Qing Yuan's crimes, why hadn't he revealed them before? How could he be sure these weren't fabricated to get revenge?

Cen Yan's accusation was unfair. Chu Rong had only wanted to stay away from the leads. He hadn't even thought of Qing Yuan until yesterday's confrontation.

In the original text, after the original owner was imprisoned on Yunji Peak, he had no further interaction with Qing Yuan. To Chu Rong, Qing Yuan was just an NPC.

"I'm not asking you to believe me. I'm asking you to investigate. Isn't that what you're good at?" You investigated me so thoroughly. Why not investigate Qing Yuan?

Chu Rong's words were ambiguous, whether sarcastic or not. His mask made his voice thicker, hoarser: "Many people were at the Changsheng Hall and the training ground. Just ask around. Oh, and your Second Senior Brother Pei Zhan was there too. Or use a truth pearl on your good junior and see if I'm lying."

Chu Rong spoke with such conviction it was hard to doubt him.

But he had deceived Cen Yan for three years, making him a fool, an accomplice to crimes against three disciples.

Cen Yan lowered his lashes, his eyes flickering, unreadable: "No need to investigate. I know what kind of person you are. And I know what kind of person Qing Yuan is."

Between them, he didn't need to think about who to believe.

Excellent. His efforts were wasted.

Chu Rong almost laughed. In the original text, Cen Yan had seemed like a decent person. Why was the real thing so different?

So muddled, so stubborn, so exasperating. Chu Rong's brow furrowed slightly, most of his liking for Cen Yan fading.

"Chu Rong, I wish you hadn't saved me three years ago." Cen Yan released his bloodied hands, gave Chu Rong one last look, and left.

Bang—!

Soon, the sound of a door slamming came from the room next door.

Chu Rong lowered his eyes and removed his mask. His fingertips were slightly pink, contrasting with the blue-grey mask, making them look even more jade-like.

He found Cen Yan even more stubborn than in the original text.

Oh well. His relationship with Cen Yan had never been good. A little worse wouldn't matter, as long as it didn't affect his departure in six months.

Chu Rong didn't dwell on it. Since Cen Yan had returned from the back mountain, the spirit beast's consciousness must have entered Pei Zhan by now.

This consciousness was good at hiding. Combined with Pei Zhan's naturally unpredictable nature, no one would suspect anything.

It would remain hidden in Pei Zhan for quite some time. Only when Cen Yan left the sect in six months and got entangled with the three other leads would Pei Zhan's jealousy explode, leading to a fight that would reveal the truth.

But before that, evil energy would appear in Qingyang Tianzong's formation, constantly assaulting its center, preventing it from closing after opening.

Cen Yan would leave to find a solution.

Chu Rong's fingers traced his mask absently, lost in thought, unaware of the white figure beside him shifting its gaze to his fingers, deep emotion stirring in its eyes.

-

One wall away.

Cen Yan clenched his fists, more blood dripping between his fingers. He forced his emotions down, his pale face shifting in the flickering candlelight.

He wouldn't believe a word Chu Rong said.

Author's Note:

Sorry for the wait~