Chapter Forty-Five

Xu Ziyang rushed straight back to Wusong Residence. One look at the empty room and his expression changed drastically — the ridge of his brow pressed down, his eyes turned dark and heavy, and his warm, jade-like demeanor vanished without a trace.

He had expended far too much of his spiritual energy forcing the Mountain-Guarding Grand Formation open, and with nearly nothing left, he couldn't extend his divine sense for a broad sweep of the area. He had to search room by room by hand.

But he searched all of Wusong Residence and found not a single soul.

Chu Rong had the Spring Entanglement in his body. Almost a full day and night had passed — the drug's potency had likely fully merged with his bloodstream by now. The pain in his abdomen alone should have left him unable to take a single step. So where could he have gone?

Wait!

A flash of inspiration cut through Xu Ziyang's mind. He remembered — when he had taken the aphrodisiac from that Harmonious Union Sect disciple, the disciple had explained that the Spring Entanglement differed from ordinary aphrodisiacs. To suppress its potency, cold water would not work — one had to do the opposite and use hot water.

And the only place near Wusong Residence with hot water was the natural hot spring in the rear mountain.

Chu Rong already had some medical knowledge — that he would know how to suppress the Spring Entanglement's effects was not surprising.

Xu Ziyang's jaw tightened to a rigid line. He spun on his heel and charged toward the rear mountain.

Pei Zhan, lurking in the shadows of the corridor, narrowed his gilded eyes slightly and followed Xu Ziyang without a sound.

When Cen Yan's group caught up, they happened to see two tall figures emerging from Wusong Residence one after the other at speed, heading in the opposite direction from the main hall.

Cen Yan recognized at a glance the figure following behind Xu Ziyang. Why was Pei Zhan there too?

Having lived in Wusong Residence for thirty years, Cen Yan knew the surrounding terrain well. The direction both men were heading was clearly the rear mountain.

What were his two Senior Brothers going to the rear mountain for at a time like this?

Cen Yan's handsome brow furrowed, the knot of questions in his mind growing larger and larger. He hesitated briefly, then quietly quickened his pace to follow.

He Ting's lips curved in a playful smile, his interest growing thicker. He followed after Cen Yan without hesitation.

Nan Xingye and Jing Heng's frames also didn't pause for a single moment — they continued on behind Cen Yan.

The path leading to the rear mountain wound but was not steep. Xu Ziyang knew there was a natural hot spring further inside the mountain, but he had never come here before.

He followed the path, moving deeper in. After about fifty paces, he spotted ahead of him a strong, sturdy figure — knees scraped raw, one sleeve soaked through with water, dripping wet — carefully cradling a set of clean blue-green gauze robes in his hands.

If not Yun Zhi, then who?

The style and color of the clothing in Yun Zhi's hands were unmistakably familiar. Xu Ziyang had seen Chu Rong wear them several times before. Who Yun Zhi was bringing those clothes to — the answer was self-evident.

Xu Ziyang kept one hand clasped behind his back, the knuckles of his other hand tightening degree by degree. His expression was completely blank, yet his voice sounded warm and unchanged as always: "Yun Zhi."

Yun Zhi instinctively turned around. He hadn't yet made out who had called his name when a large palm pressed down onto his shoulder. In the next instant, his entire body stiffened — not a single part of him could move.

The Body-Binding Technique!

Yun Zhi's eyes went wide with shock. He watched as the figure behind him stepped slowly into view, tilting his head up inch by inch to reveal an elegant, handsome face — expression shadowed, eyes barely containing a terrifying fury.

S-Senior Brother?!

Wasn't Senior Brother in the main hall — how was he here?

Yun Zhi's pupils trembled. Before he could even open his mouth, Xu Ziyang plucked the clothing from his hands, pressed two fingers to the side of his neck, and in an instant, Yun Zhi could no longer speak.

The Body-Binding Technique and the Sealed-Voice Incantation were both simple techniques — Xu Ziyang still had at least that much spiritual energy left.

"I'll deliver these clothes for you." Xu Ziyang withdrew his hand, bent his fingers, and stroked the thin, delicate gauze fabric in his palm. His tone was utterly unchanged — so calm it made one's scalp prickle.

No!

Senior Brother must not be allowed in — the Young Master was still inside!

Yun Zhi's heart burned with urgency. His mouth opened and closed over and over, but not a sound came out. He could only watch helplessly as Xu Ziyang pushed him into a thicket of trees, where he toppled like a wooden post and fell to the ground — staring with wide eyes as Xu Ziyang took the clothing and strode deeper into the rear mountain.

Pei Zhan, one step behind Xu Ziyang, had taken in his every move. He glanced sideways at Yun Zhi lying in the thicket, gave it no further attention, and followed Xu Ziyang once more.

Ahead, Xu Ziyang walked another fifty paces or so, and several threads of damp air reached his face, leaving a faint trace of moisture on his skin.

This was… steam drifting from the hot spring.

Xu Ziyang's tall frame paused, and the sinister, oppressive energy he had been holding down the entire way surged outward, flooding his chest. Ha — so what if he'd managed to escape? He'd found him all the same, hadn't he?

Xu Ziyang had changed his mind. He no longer had the patience to wait for Chu Rong to come begging. Once he caught Chu Rong, he would make him comply on the spot.

After all, Chu Rong was nothing more than a mortal — utterly without power to resist in front of a cultivator. Even imprisoning him for a lifetime — what could he do about it?

Unspeakable thoughts rose one after another in his mind. Xu Ziyang's eyes turned deep and pitch-dark, sinking to their absolute darkest. He seized the gauze robe in his grip and advanced step by step in the direction the steam was coming from.

The further he went, the thicker the mist that drifted to meet him, and faintly, he could hear the sound of hot spring water cascading down from the mountain.

Suddenly, a splash —

Something broke through the surface of the water. The water trembled outward in violent ripples.

Xu Ziyang's heart gave a heavy jolt. He covered the remaining distance in two large strides, stepped over the ring of half-man-high trees surrounding the hot spring's edge, looked up at the pool, and spoke in a low, hoarse voice: "Chu Rong, I gave you a chance — you chose not to take it. This time, don't blame me for…"

Xu Ziyang's breath snagged. The rest of the words cut off the instant he saw the person in the pool.

The hot spring water shimmered with ripples, wisps of steam veiling the surface. In the pool, a man's long, slender frame was half-curled, the lower half of his body submerged. His clothing was disheveled, half-slipped from his shoulders, soaked through inside and out, dripping steadily into the water.

His collar gaped open, a large expanse of snow-white skin bared to the air. Wet hair fell to both sides, each strand dripping, the tips trailing across his chest as water from his hair traced glistening wet paths down his skin.

The man in the pool had his head slightly bowed. His long, curling lashes were wet too, hanging downward in an arc of breathtaking curve.

His face was half-hidden behind the curtain of damp hair, exposing only a sliver of his fair, exquisite jaw — yet even that one sliver of his profile was enough to make the breath catch in one's throat without knowing why.

One long, white arm was half-curved before his waist and abdomen. Jade-pale fingers — dripping with clear water — were loosely hooked around a mask of terrifying design, the mask's front floating on the surface of the pool, its two sharp fangs at the corners curling outward like the gaping tusks of a demon.

This mask — wasn't it…?

Xu Ziyang's gaze snapped rigid. Before he could look more closely, the person in the pool heard the commotion. Those dense lashes fanned open, and a single crystal drop of water fell from them. The man tilted his head slightly and looked over at him.

His complexion was ashen. Damp strands of hair clung scattered to his cheeks. His face was a vivid, gorgeous, almost unearthly beauty — the tails of his eyes palely flushed, the outer corners tilted faintly upward, the edges stained with a deep, brilliant crimson. His pupils were veiled in a watery mist, glistening and languid.

His nose was high and proud. His lips were red as blood, covered all over with tooth-mark wounds — several of them pressed hard enough to break the skin, exposing the raw, vivid red of the flesh beneath.

The man in the pool seemed to be in discomfort. His lips parted unconsciously, and from his mouth and nose came faint, weak breaths of barely-suppressed gasping — like a water-spirit, his entire being saturated with a soul-stirring, mesmerizing allure.

Xu Ziyang's pupils contracted sharply. His tall, upright frame stopped at the edge of the pool as though turned to stone. The gauze robe slipped from his fingertips and drifted silently to the ground.

But he had no reaction to it. His eyes stared blankly ahead, the blood boiling through his body. A soul-shaking, awe-striking beauty shot straight up his spine to the crown of his skull and spread across every inch of his scalp, leaving his entire body unable to stop trembling and tingling.

He was completely unaware of the several tall figures closing in swiftly from behind him.

Pei Zhan, only one step behind Xu Ziyang, arrived almost at the same moment. Cultivators had sharp senses — the mist at the pool's edge couldn't obstruct his sight at all. In the same instant the person in the pool looked over, he saw that person's face with perfect clarity.

Pei Zhan's gilded pupils snapped wide open. Like Xu Ziyang, he stood there in a daze staring at the person in the water, utterly unable to tear his gaze away.

Two tall figures stood at the edge of the hot spring, like two guardian deities flanking a gate.

Cen Yan's group arrived near the hot spring shortly after. Seeing the two of them stand motionless for so long as though something had seized their souls, Cen Yan's puzzlement deepened. He tilted his head curiously and followed their line of sight.

In the next instant, his breath seized. His heart began slamming uncontrollably.

Beside Cen Yan, the mocking disdain on Nan Xingye's face froze in an instant, his gaze locking onto the person in the pool.

He Ting's smile slowly faded from his handsome face. His palm gripped tight as a vice, eyes riveted to the person in the pool, his breathing turning rough and heavy.

Jing Heng's cold, eerie eyes stared fixedly at the person in the pool. The hair-raising aura that always clung to his person seemed to freeze in place.

Who was this person?

The Spring Entanglement had fully merged into Chu Rong's body. Although the hot spring's warmth could suppress some of the drug's effects and keep his heat from completely obliterating his reason, the pain in his lower abdomen had only grown more severe with the passage of time, not less.

Chu Rong's temples throbbed from the pain, his head feeling bloated, his consciousness as though stuffed into a sealed glass container — everything around him had become somewhat distant and unreal.

The several men at the pool's edge were nothing but blurry shadows in his eyes. He stared through mist-filled eyes for a long while before registering that they were people at all.

Xu Ziyang, Pei Zhan, Cen Yan… the three behind them he had never seen and did not recognize. His mind was a muddled mess right now, and he had no spare capacity to guess.

But Xu Ziyang alone was more than enough to set every alarm bell in Chu Rong's head blaring.

His long, supple frame went taut on instinct — like a bowstring drawn to its limit. His fingers curled in and tightened their grip on the mask in his hand. His vivid red lips parted and closed, as though trying to say something, but his throat was blocked and not a sound came out.

Chu Rong's crow-feather lashes trembled with panic. His brow furrowed tight, and while forcing back the pain flooding through his body, he warily backed away through the water.

But where did he find the strength for it?

He moved his four limbs feebly for a moment, then sank back in exhaustion. His head drooped slightly, his breathing rapid. The waves his movement kicked up spread outward in rings around him, and his slender, lean waist, half-visible beneath the water, looked all the more devastatingly beautiful.

This futile, fruitless struggling only sent the breathing of the men at the pool's edge into disarray — their eyes going glassy, a dry, scorching thirst rising in their throats, their minds growing hazier.

Even Cen Yan, who had always devoted himself singlemindedly to cultivation, felt an involuntary warmth spreading through his body. His throat bobbed, and his feet moved of their own accord — he wanted to draw closer to the person in the hot spring.

An overwhelming, supremely powerful oppressive force abruptly blanketed the entire rear mountain like a tidal wave blotting out the sky.

The air around them seemed to be stripped away in an instant. A suffocating sensation rapidly spread from outside in, and in no time at all, Cen Yan's group felt as though invisible bonds had coiled tight around their necks. Their complexions turned purple, and breathing became difficult.

A force this terrifying — in all three realms, only one person could command it.

"Imm—" Cen Yan's lips barely moved. He managed to force out a single syllable, then the fearsome pressure vanished without a trace, as though something had given the person causing it pause.

Cen Yan's group clutched at their throats in pain, their knees buckling as they went half-kneeling to the ground, gasping desperately.

They were cultivators, and even they could barely withstand it — Chu Rong was a mortal. How could he possibly endure an oppressive force this powerful? Especially now, when the pain had already robbed him of clear reason.

Even though that oppressive force had only appeared for a very brief moment, it was still enough to make Chu Rong's vision go black. His body lost its ability to hold itself up and he began to fall backward into the hot spring.

Just as he was about to sink into the water, an extremely tall figure appeared at his side in a flash — a pair of large, distinctly-knuckled hands catching him, one arm circling his waist, one hand cradling the back of his neck, pulling him securely into broad arms without a single gap between them.