Chapter Thirty

Wusong Residence.

Shi Ming was surprised. He approached quickly, noticing the door was indeed wide open. Orchid fragrance drifted out, filling the corridor.

Shi Ming's face reddened. He took a deep breath, his eyes unconsciously drawn inside: "Young Master?"

Silence. No figure by the desk or window.

Disappointment flickered in his eyes. He entered with the tray, intending to leave quickly. A hoarse voice stopped him: "Shi Ming, is that you?"

Shi Ming looked up. By the window, on the bed, a tall, slender man lay on his back. One hand hung over the edge, his sleeve falling like an epiphyllum, jade-white fingers half-hidden.

Sunlight from the window fell on his mask, his thick lashes like butterfly wings. One flutter, and all breath was stolen.

Shi Ming's mind went blank, frozen mid-step.

"It's... me." After a long moment, he swallowed, forcing sound from his throat. His voice was rough, unpleasant.

Chu Rong's lips parted behind the mask, relieved. He had thought of Shi Ming, and here he was.

Chu Rong disliked passivity. Pei Zhan's unpredictability meant he probably wouldn't return to release the spell. He had to help himself.

And of those who came to Wusong Residence, Shi Ming was the most accessible.

He explained simply: "I've been hit with a body-binding spell and can't move. Could you find Xu Ziyang and ask him to release it?"

Cen Yan was hostile. He probably wouldn't help. Yun Zhi hadn't even drawn qi, and Shi Ming, though he had, had no cultivation. Neither could help.

Xu Ziyang was his best bet.

He valued the life-saving debt. A body-binding spell shouldn't be too much to ask.

"Body-binding spell?" Shi Ming gasped. He noticed Chu Rong hadn't moved at all, like a jade doll.

"Yes, yes. I'll find Senior Martial Brother." He looked at Chu Rong again, his skin burning, his tongue failing.

He walked quickly to the table to put down the tray. Standing, his heart pounded. An overwhelming impulse flooded him, freezing him in place.

"Shi Ming?" Chu Rong waited, hearing no footsteps. His lashes fluttered. "Are you still there?"

His neck wouldn't turn, his mask blocked his view. He could only see the area above the bed. He didn't know if anyone was there.

Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting shadows on the corridor floor.

Shi Ming looked at the empty corridor. Steam rose from the hot food, misting before his face, blurring his expression.

His eyes flickered. His chest heaved beneath his coarse clothes, his breathing heavy. He made no sound.

Chu Rong heard breathing. His lashes fluttered again: "Shi Ming, is that you?"

Still no answer. Shi Ming turned back, staring at the motionless figure on the bed, breathing hard, thoughts racing.

No one was outside.

Under a body-binding spell, he couldn't move. He couldn't resist anything done to him.

Shi Ming's throat burned. His breathing grew heavier. He moved towards the bed.

But footsteps sounded outside.

He looked up. A tall, upright man walked from the opposite corridor towards him. His features were gentle, his smile warm and reassuring.

"Senior... Senior Martial Brother." Shi Ming froze. His boiling thoughts were doused like cold water.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. He quickly covered himself with his robe, stepping aside.

His voice was like tearing silk, dry and rough. Xu Ziyang paused, looking at him: "Shi Ming?"

He often visited Wusong Residence and recognized him. His smile deepened: "Delivering a meal?"

"Yes, yes." Shi Ming bowed, shrinking his shoulders, trying to hide.

Suspicion flickered in Xu Ziyang's eyes. He stepped forward for a better look, but a hoarse voice came from the room, slightly expectant: "Xu Ziyang?"

His attention caught, Xu Ziyang entered the room.

Shi Ming sighed, covering himself more thoroughly.

Xu Ziyang didn't notice. He went to the source of the voice. Seeing the figure on the bed, his breathing faltered.

"Sorry." He turned away, his voice tight: "I didn't know you were resting. I'll leave..."

"Don't go." Who rested this late? Chu Rong didn't know what had happened, but Xu Ziyang's timing was perfect.

His lashes lifted, his reddened eyes captivating: "I'm under a body-binding spell. Could you release it?"

Body-binding spell?

Xu Ziyang turned back, surprised. Remembering Cen Yan's attitude, he asked: "Did Junior Brother Cen do this?"

"No." Chu Rong blinked. "It was Pei Zhan."

Xu Ziyang's smile faded slightly, his eyes darkening: "He came again? Why didn't you come to me?"

How could Chu Rong have known Pei Zhan, influenced by the beast's consciousness, would target even him?

He didn't want to waste time on irrelevant matters. Looking at Xu Ziyang, he expressed his request: "Can you release it?"

Xu Ziyang didn't answer. His gaze moved from Chu Rong's jade-like fingers up to his arm, shoulder, neck. Light from the side cast shadows on his shoulders, hiding his expression.

Chu Rong's brow furrowed. Before he could ask again, Xu Ziyang turned to Shi Ming: "You may go."

Shi Ming hesitated, glancing at the bed, disappointment heavy in his eyes, but his manner remained respectful: "Yes."

He retreated, closing the door, glancing through the crack at the bed.

Chu Rong's lashes lowered. Shi Ming had been in the room. Why hadn't he spoken?

A shadow fell beside him. The edge of the bed sank under weight.

Chu Rong looked up. Xu Ziyang sat on the bed, his features refined, handsome.

"I can help." His voice was calm, gentle as always. Listening closely, one might detect something else. "But I was injured in the secret realm. It's not fully healed. I don't have much spiritual energy. Breaking the spell might take some time."

Chu Rong had seen how badly Xu Ziyang was hurt. In the original text, his injuries wouldn't fully heal until just before the Inner Sect Competition.

"How long?" He didn't need to weigh options.

Xu Ziyang's voice was unchanged: "An hour."

"That long?" Chu Rong had read the text. Wasn't the body-binding spell simple? Even injured, Xu Ziyang should...

Before he could think further, Xu Ziyang's seemingly considerate voice came from beside him: "I could find Junior Brother Cen for you. But he seems uncomfortable at Wusong Residence. He'll be staying at Xuanjian Pavilion for the next six months."

Wusong Residence was Cen Yan's private home. He'd lived there for twenty-seven years before the original owner came. How could he be uncomfortable? He probably just found Chu Rong an eyesore.

So Cen Yan wouldn't help.

"No need." Chu Rong refused directly. "You do it."

Slow was fine. Anything was better than being unable to move. He hated losing control of his body.

Xu Ziyang's lips curved almost imperceptibly. He leaned forward, his warm, large hand pressing Chu Rong's shoulder, lifting him against his firm chest.

Instantly, Chu Rong's breath was filled with the man's warm, slightly aggressive scent.

"What are you doing?" Chu Rong frowned, uncomfortable. Did breaking a body-binding spell require this?

"This is faster." Xu Ziyang was slightly taller than Chu Rong. His high nose brushed Chu Rong's hair, inhaling the orchid fragrance. His voice was warm, low, reassuring: "Close your eyes. Quiet your mind."

Chu Rong had no choice. He suppressed his discomfort and followed instructions.

He relaxed, closing his eyes, leaning against Xu Ziyang without moving. His cloud-like hair spread over the man's robes, his lowered lashes breathtaking, like a captivating puppet, docile enough to make one's heart race.

Xu Ziyang's gaze darkened, unfathomable.

His prominent Adam's apple moved subtly. His strong, muscular arm tightened around Chu Rong's slender waist.

An unspoken tension spread by the bed.

Author's Note:

Sorry for the wait~

Spell duration increased by half an hour.