Chapter Twenty-Nine

Cen Yan closed his eyes, repeating this to himself.

After an unknown time, his chaotic thoughts settled. In his sea of consciousness, the light spot returned to normal, and the stirring purple smoke quieted, coiled around it.

Cen Yan used a cleansing spell to remove the grime and sat cross-legged on the bed to meditate.

The night passed quickly.

The next day, sunlight streaming through the door brightened the room.

Cen Yan opened his door to see a young man standing across the corridor. He wore purple cloud-gauze robes, their hem flowing like water.

The terrifying demon mask hid his face completely, yet it wasn't frightening. Instead, there was an indescribable allure, an irresistible draw.

Cen Yan's eyes darkened. The purple smoke in his sea of consciousness, quiet all night, stirred like a snail extending its antennae.

Hearing the door open, Chu Rong turned to meet Cen Yan's cold, emotionless gaze—even more indifferent than before.

Chu Rong had expected this and felt little.

Ultimately, this plot had nothing to do with him. Whether Cen Yan investigated or not, Qing Yuan's fate wouldn't change.

Chu Rong stood under the corridor, watching Cen Yan walk away.

"He's long gone. Still watching?" A lazy, low voice came from across the way.

Chu Rong looked up. The handsome young man striding towards him was full of arrogance. His powerful physique, honed by years of cultivation, carried a heavy presence.

Pei Zhan. Who else?

With the spirit beast's consciousness in his mind, Pei Zhan would have some trouble controlling his emotions. He was probably here for Cen Yan.

Chu Rong ignored Pei Zhan. Looking back, Cen Yan had already left Wusong Residence, likely to check if Qing Yuan had regained consciousness.

A tall figure stepped before him, blocking his view: "If you're so reluctant, maybe dissolving the engagement in six months is just playing hard to get?"

The original owner might have, but he wouldn't.

Chu Rong frowned slightly, stepped back to put distance between them, and walked towards his room. His hoarse voice carried displeasure: "None of your business."

As he moved, wisps of orchid fragrance from his hair drifted past Pei Zhan's nose.

Pei Zhan's eyes darkened. He followed, glancing at Chu Rong's neck. His smooth hair slid over his shoulders, revealing skin like jade, even more delicate in the daylight.

Staring at that neck, Pei Zhan felt inexplicably angry. He snorted, his tone mocking: "You saw him canoodling with Xu Ziyang, and you're still this devoted to him? Do you love him that much?"

The white figure beside Chu Rong's eyes darkened. This young man, who failed to protect his fiancé, also entangled with another man?

Mortals already struggled in the cultivation world. How must this person feel?

Chu Rong lifted his lashes, bewildered.

If Pei Zhan wanted Cen Yan, he should go after him. Why take it out on him?

Chu Rong stopped at his door, gesturing for Pei Zhan to leave. His sleeve slipped down, revealing his jade-like wrist. His hoarse voice was cold, mocking: "My relationship with Cen Yan is none of your concern. Please leave."

Pei Zhan seemed not to hear, his eyes fixed on Chu Rong's wrist.

Chu Rong had scrubbed it too hard. Two days later, it was still slightly red, the redness more prominent against his fair skin.

"You really are made of porcelain." Pei Zhan frowned. He had only grabbed his wrist; why hadn't the redness faded?

He reached for Chu Rong's wrist.

"What are you doing?" Chu Rong withdrew his hand quickly, pulling his sleeve down to cover his wrist. His eyes behind the mask were cold.

But it only made the red at the corners of his eyes more striking, enchanting.

Last time, he'd almost choked him. The time before, he'd made his wrist red. What this time?

In the original text, the main leads' builds were similar. The original owner's physique wasn't inferior.

But this was a cultivation world. The leads were highly cultivated, and the original owner was mortal. No matter how good his body, he was fragile before them.

Pei Zhan's breath caught.

He looked at Chu Rong's reddened eye corners, his Adam's apple moving involuntarily. His hand, which had grabbed nothing, suddenly reversed.

Chu Rong's vision blurred. His arm was caught in a large hand, pulling him against a muscular body.

"What are you dodging for? I'm not going to eat you." Pei Zhan held Chu Rong's arm tightly. He took a bottle of medicine from his storage, removed the stopper, scooped out some white ointment, and applied it to Chu Rong's wrist.

"No need." Chu Rong frowned. The close contact made him uncomfortable. He twisted his arm, trying to free himself.

Pei Zhan's hand was empty again. His gold-flecked eyes narrowed.

Rejected twice, his limited patience ran out. He moved, appearing before Chu Rong in an instant. With his free hand, he tapped Chu Rong's shoulder lightly.

In an instant, Chu Rong's limbs went rigid. He was frozen, like a puppet.

Body-binding spell.

Chu Rong had read the text. He guessed what Pei Zhan had done.

His pupils widened slightly, his lashes fluttering. He looked coldly at the man before him, his voice soft but icy: "Release me."

The white figure beside Chu Rong's eyes turned to ice. It raised its well-defined fingers, gathering spiritual energy to strike Pei Zhan!

But the white figure had used most of its spiritual energy earlier. This attack, using its remaining power, was only at the Golden Core level.

Cultivators were perceptive. Pei Zhan couldn't see the white figure, but he sensed danger. He released Chu Rong's shoulder and dodged nimbly.

Someone else was in Chu Rong's room?

"Stop hiding like a coward. Show yourself!" Pei Zhan's expression was terrifying, his pressure like a sword about to pierce.

He scanned the room but saw no one.

The white figure slowly dissipated, vanishing without a trace.

Pei Zhan extended his divine sense, searching repeatedly, but found nothing.

Had that person left?

Pei Zhan snorted and returned to Chu Rong, looking at him meaningfully: "Are you cheating on Cen Yan?"

What cheating?

Chu Rong couldn't see what had happened. He was even colder: "Pei Zhan, release the binding spell!"

Pei Zhan ignored him. He took Chu Rong's hand and continued applying the ointment to his reddened wrist.

His actions were surprising, but Pei Zhan never followed expectations. Anything he did was within reason.

Chu Rong couldn't move, couldn't reason with him. He could only endure.

But Pei Zhan's hands were too calloused. Applying the ointment only made Chu Rong's wrist redder.

Chu Rong was exasperated, amused. Bound, only his face could move.

His lips parted: "Are you done?"

The medicine was applied. Could he let go now?

The skin in his palm was warm and smooth, seeming to cling. Pei Zhan rubbed Chu Rong's wrist, showing no sign of releasing it.

He lifted his eyelids lazily. His gaze fell on Chu Rong's slim waist, half-hidden by his robe. His eyes darkened again, the images from the spy's memory resurfacing.

Pei Zhan's lazy expression tightened. He released Chu Rong's wrist, his hand—whether intentional or not—settling on the waist beneath the robe. His palm pressed against the curve, carrying Chu Rong to the bed.

Pei Zhan's strides were long. In a few steps, he reached the bed. As he bent to lay Chu Rong down, his hand brushed the pillow. It shifted slightly, revealing a flash of crimson beneath.

Pei Zhan paused. He laid Chu Rong on the bed and quickly retrieved what was under the pillow—a crimson bead.

Congzong Pearl?

Pei Zhan remembered. The Congzong Pearl was a magical artifact He Ming had found for Cen Yan, with a wisp of spiritual consciousness attached. So that was what had attacked him?

Chu Rong truly was devoted to Cen Yan, sleeping with that bead under his pillow every night.

"Since you like Cen Yan so much, wait for him to release the spell. Or I'll do it later." Pei Zhan's lazy demeanor was gone. He put the pearl back under the pillow, rubbed Chu Rong's waist a few times before withdrawing his hand.

When had he ever liked Cen Yan?

If Pei Zhan wanted to harass Cen Yan, why involve him?

Chu Rong's brow furrowed. His hair spread across the bed like silk. His pale lips parted, wanting Pei Zhan to release the spell, but Pei Zhan gave him no chance. He strode away without even closing the door.

Madman.

Chu Rong thought again: the original text's description of Pei Zhan was perfectly accurate.

He pressed his lips, lowering his lashes, thinking of a way out. Cen Yan preferred quiet. Few came to Wusong Residence. He was out now. Yun Zhi would be eating in the inner sect's dining hall. Who could help him?

Before the name could surface, footsteps approached. A man in simple clothing entered with a tray: "Young Master... Eh? Why is the door open?"

-

Inner Sect Disciples' Quarters.

Incense curled in the air, unable to mask the thick scent of blood.

The bed was soaked with blood. A figure, bandaged nearly everywhere, lay on his back, his bloodshot eyes darting in terror.

"Senior Brother... Cen..." His mouth worked painfully, forcing out words: "What... happened to me?"

Why did he hurt so much?

What about the beasts?

Before hiding in the bushes, he had seen two outer sect disciples. Where were they?

Cen Yan stood by the bed, pained. He opened his mouth, not knowing what to say.

Xu Ziyang, standing beside him, saw his difficulty. He patted Cen Yan's shoulder reassuringly and said gently: "Don't worry. Rest. You'll be fine."

His low, warm voice was calming. Qing Yuan's panic eased.

Xu Ziyang said a few more gentle words and left with Cen Yan.

Cen Yan's fists were clenched, his eyes dark: "Senior Brother, why did it have to be Qing Yuan? Why not..." that useless, evil person?

Xu Ziyang knew who he meant. His smile faded slightly, his voice dropping: "Junior Brother, don't you think you're biased against Chu Rong?"

"Senior Brother, you know it's not bias." It was fact.

"But your 'facts' weren't confirmed by the truth pearl." Xu Ziyang was blunt. And Chu Rong had repeatedly proven his innocence with it.

Cen Yan frowned. In his sea of consciousness, the light spot glowed again. He heard Xu Ziyang continue: "Have you considered that the disciples' accusations are also one-sided?"

"What do you mean?" For the first time, Cen Yan's face was cold before Xu Ziyang. "Does Senior Brother think Chu Rong is innocent too?"

"No." The evidence was substantial. Xu Ziyang couldn't claim Chu Rong was innocent. He only offered his thoughts: "I just think it's over. You don't need to hold onto it. Especially since he saved you. No matter how much you resent him, you shouldn't direct meaningless hostility his way."

Why not?

Wasn't Chu Rong partly responsible for Qing Yuan's condition?

The light in Cen Yan's sea of consciousness blazed. The purple smoke deepened. Uncontrollable rage surged through him. He couldn't listen anymore.

"Don't mention him!" Cen Yan cut Xu Ziyang off coldly. "I don't want to hear his name. I don't want to see him again!"

"Don't be angry, Junior Brother. I won't mention him." Xu Ziyang's eyes narrowed. He said casually: "But you live in the same residence. You're bound to run into each other."

He paused, his tone warm, only slightly eager: "Why don't we switch? You stay at Xuanjian Pavilion for six months. I'll stay at Wusong Residence and watch over him for you."

Cen Yan and Xu Ziyang had known each other for thirty years. He had occasionally stayed at Xu Ziyang's residence. He didn't think much of it and agreed: "I'll be troubling Senior Brother for the next six months."

Out of sight, out of mind. As long as he was away from Chu Rong, staying at Xuanjian Pavilion was fine. When Chu Rong left the sect in six months, he'd return to Wusong Residence.

"No need for formality between us." Xu Ziyang's smile reached his eyes.

Author's Note:

Minor revision. Sorry for the wait~