Chapter Fifty-One

Chu Rong?

In these recent days, the matter of the baleful energy had thrown the sect inside and out into chaos, and Lian Ci had been so preoccupied that he had nearly forgotten this person even existed.

"What does it have to do with him?" Lian Ci frowned, his earlier fury still not fully dispersed from his face: "The Immortal Venerate is an extraordinary person — how could he possibly have any intersection with Chu Rong?"

Cen Yan also couldn't make sense of it himself, but combining what had happened at the rear mountain hot spring, the likelihood was high.

Cen Yan's thin lips moved, and he laid out in full everything he had witnessed at the rear mountain during the day.

The expressions on Lian Ci and He Ming's faces shifted visibly — like a paint palette that had been knocked over, every color appearing in succession, all of it quite spectacular.

Chu Rong's face wasn't disfigured?

So they had all been deceived this entire time?

They were Golden Core cultivators, for all the heavens' sake — and they had been run in circles by an ordinary mortal?

What an utter, insufferable humiliation!

"So it cannot be ruled out that Chu Rong is running some scheme again." Cen Yan spoke again, briefly recounting the matter of Yun Zhi borrowing his sword: "If Chu Rong truly is acquainted with the Immortal Venerate, then right before leaving — staging a scheme to frame Senior Brother that didn't succeed the first time, and then adding fuel to the fire to harm him again — that would not be out of character."

Considering Chu Rong's nature, this did indeed seem plausible.

"Well — well done." Lian Ci clenched his fists. His eyes turned red with rage, the whites threaded through with blood-red veins. He believed he had treated Chu Rong without any particular malice — and yet Chu Rong was targeting the sect like this!

The immortal sect members in the hall looked at one another, each completely at a loss. What scheme? What rear mountain? What on earth were the Qingyang Heavenly Sect people talking about? Not a single word of it made any sense.

The men who had gone to the rear mountain, however, heard every word with perfect clarity, and their expressions grew subtly complex. Anyone with eyes could see that Chu Rong's state in the hot spring had been wrong — the very high probability was that Xu Ziyang truly had imprisoned Chu Rong.

But why were the Qingyang Heavenly Sect members, all of them, absolutely insisting that it was Chu Rong running a scheme?

He Ting in particular had sharpened his perception on it — it seemed as though the entirety of Qingyang Heavenly Sect had no goodwill toward Chu Rong whatsoever, as though Chu Rong were some kind of irredeemable criminal.

He Ting's curiosity was helplessly piqued.

And Jing Heng, as a medical cultivator, had observed more details than most. He suspected that Xu Ziyang had done more than merely imprison Chu Rong — there had been something else as well.

Such as drugging.

A flicker of contempt passed through Jing Heng's cold, eerie eyes.

Yun Tan sat quietly, taking in everyone's reactions, undisturbed. As far as he was concerned, anything beyond the matter of the baleful energy had nothing to do with him.

Sensing the gazes converging on him from all sides, Lian Ci finally noticed that the immortal sects were still in the hall. He drew a deep breath, reined in the turbulent emotions in his chest, and forced a smile on his imposing face — apologetic as he addressed those in the hall: "We are grateful that Fellow Daoists of the immortal sects were willing to set aside past grievances and come to aid Qingyang. However, as you can see, an incident has occurred within the sect. Discussing the matter of the baleful energy will, I'm afraid, have to wait until tomorrow."

Xu Ziyang's horrific state had been witnessed firsthand by everyone present. It was estimated that within another hour or two, he would die in agony.

Lian Ci's regard for Xu Ziyang was great — his inability to focus on deliberations was entirely understandable. Everyone understood Lian Ci's grief and tactfully agreed in turn: "It is of no consequence — Sect Master Lian, please attend to the sect's affairs first."

After all, the baleful energy was contained by the Immortal Venerate — it couldn't cause any chaos for the time being, and waiting another night made no difference.

Lian Ci offered repeated thanks, then caught Pei Zhan's eye with a meaningful look: "Zhan'er, please see the honored guests to their rest."

Pei Zhan had a fair idea of what Lian Ci intended to do next. His gilded eyes darkened slightly. He gave Lian Ci a look laden with meaning, then led those in the hall away.

Once the main hall had returned to quiet, the feigned smile Lian Ci had been holding on his face sank immediately. He flung his long sleeve and strode out of the main hall with a wide step.

"Yan'er, follow the Sect Master." He Ming's complexion was no better than Lian Ci's, but he was slightly more composed. Chu Rong was not worth worrying over — but with the Immortal Venerate backing him, any conflict would be very much to Lian Ci's disadvantage.

Cen Yan accepted the order and hurried after Lian Ci.

The immortal sect members hadn't gone far before they noticed Lian Ci and Cen Yan filing out of the hall one after the other in quick succession. They whispered amongst themselves.

He Ting maintained his warm smile as a disciple led him toward the prepared side rooms beyond the hall. The moment he pushed open his door, an accompanying Gate of Heavenly Mechanisms disciple hastened forward with respectful urgency, handing him a letter.

He Ting raised his hand, unfolded the letter with an elegant gesture, and read the intelligence within. An incredulous light flickered in his eyes, and the smile at the corner of his lips vanished entirely.

He hadn't expected that the leads Xu Ziyang had provided would unearth this much.

But the most shocking thing of all was Chu Rong himself — that someone of such celestial beauty would have done so many terrible things. No wonder the Qingyang Heavenly Sect people had spoken of Chu Rong with such distaste — they must have long since seen through Chu Rong's true face.

All the better.

He Ting's mind involuntarily conjured that devastatingly gorgeous face, and his eyes glazed briefly. He narrowed them, and the corner of his lips curved back up into a smile that made one's blood run cold. With this, when he made his move on Chu Rong, he would have no more qualms.

Such extraordinary beauty, not being enjoyed beneath a man every day and every night — what a waste.

He Ting's breathing sank slightly. A fierce, urgent need rose inside him. Chu Rong was an ordinary mortal — utterly without any power to resist before a cultivator. Getting his hands on him would take no effort at all.

But the difficulty — the only difficulty — lay in the fact that Immortal Venerate Ning Yuan appeared to hold Chu Rong in rather high regard. The moment he thought of what had happened to Xu Ziyang, He Ting couldn't help but clench the letter, and felt a moment of hesitation.

The undercurrents of the inner gate had not touched Wusong Residence.

Candlelight swayed, casting the two silhouettes within — one towering, one long and slender — in stretched shadows. Ning Yuan's low, cold voice spoke without inflection, briefly laying out how the immortal sects had come to Qingyang Heavenly Sect to offer support.

Chu Rong sat at the table, his long, dense lashes lowered, casting a gray crescent shadow beneath his eyes. A thoughtful quality drifted through his expression. Ning Yuan's prestige in the cultivation world was extraordinarily high — countless sects were desperate to forge a connection with him. No wonder the number of immortal sects offering support to Qingyang had surged so dramatically compared to the original plot.

But the thing Chu Rong was truly focused on was the Mountain-Guarding Grand Formation. He had not expected that while he was under the drug's effects, the formation would already have been opened.

If that was the case, there was no longer any obstacle to his departure.

That thought made Chu Rong unable to sit still. He rose and went to the wooden cabinet, retrieving the packed luggage he had prepared.

Ning Yuan appeared at Chu Rong's side in a flash, his eyes glancing sideways at the sparse, simple bundle in his hands: "You intend to leave Qingyang Heavenly Sect?"

Chu Rong didn't deny it. Four months ago, he had already wanted to leave. After what had happened with Xu Ziyang, the urge to leave had grown more urgent than ever. Otherwise, who could say whether Xu Ziyang might not lose his mind again and do something else to him?

Chu Rong was well aware of the gap between cultivators and ordinary mortals. Next time, he might not be so lucky as to have someone arrive in time to save him.

Having fought his own way through over twenty years in the modern world alone, Chu Rong disliked intensely being put in a passive position. He preferred to have the initiative in his own hands.

There was an unwritten rule between the cultivation world and the mortal realm: cultivators were not to harm mortals in the mortal realm.

In the mortal realm, he was far safer than in the cultivation world. Leaving the sect — from another angle — also meant that the initiative returned to his hands.

Ning Yuan knew Chu Rong had long since planned to leave, but: "You still have a marriage engagement."

As long as the Heavenly Dao Marriage Bond remained undissolved, Chu Rong remained bound to Cen Yan for a day. Even leaving Qingyang Heavenly Sect would be of little use.

Chu Rong was a reader — how could he not know this?

The faint flush at the tips of his lips curved upward. He glanced sidelong at Ning Yuan, the playful light dancing in his eyes like moonlight gathered into the room — a beauty that arrested one's very soul: "The engagement was dissolved long ago."

Since he intended to leave, he would not leave behind any source of future trouble.

Ning Yuan's cold, deep black eyes held the lively figure before him. His throat moved almost imperceptibly, and his jade-resonant voice took on an almost undetectable thread of hoarseness: "How was it dissolved?"

As far as he knew, the cultivation world had no recorded method for dissolving a Heavenly Dao Marriage Bond.

In the original text, Ning Yuan had never even appeared — so what did it matter if he knew the method? Chu Rong didn't say anything more. His eye corner drifted out of habit to the pitch-black sky outside, and his beautiful brow creased faintly: "Senior, has Cen Yan come by?"

The engagement was already dissolved — why bring up Cen Yan? Ning Yuan's expression sank slightly, and he said coolly: "No."

Hadn't Cen Yan said he would see him out of the sect? The formation had been open for nearly a full day — why hadn't he come yet?

Never mind.

He had already said goodbye to Cen Yan on the original host's behalf. Whether Cen Yan came to see him off or not made little difference. He could use the token Cen Yan had given the original host — the disciples guarding the mountain gate would let him pass all the same.

Chu Rong reined in his thoughts, retrieved the token Cen Yan had given him, picked up his luggage, and made to walk out.

Ning Yuan shifted to block the doorway, his tall frame solidly filling the path ahead: "You intend to go out looking like this?"

"What else?" Chu Rong's brow arched slightly, somewhat puzzled. He hadn't found his mask when he woke — it must have been left behind in the rear mountain hot spring.

His face was ugly, yes — but it was the dead of night with a strong wind blowing. Who would bother looking twice at him?

He had waited four months for this very day. To avoid things dragging on and inviting further complications, the sooner he left, the better.

Surely he didn't need to pick an auspicious day and time and make thorough preparations before departing?

Ning Yuan's expressionless eyes locked onto the face before him — glowing with a beauty that lit it from within — just about to say something more, when the restriction blanketing Wusong Residence sent a faint ripple.

Ning Yuan turned his head slightly toward the main gate and said, with cool unhurried calm: "Lian Ci has come."

Chu Rong was mildly startled. What was Lian Ci coming to Wusong Residence for at this hour?

Ning Yuan had a fair idea of why Lian Ci had come. He lowered his gaze, bringing it back to the person before him: "Don't go out. I'll handle it."

Chu Rong hadn't heard about what had happened outside. Lian Ci had never thought much of the original host — he wouldn't come to find him without reason. Could Xu Ziyang be up to something again?

After all, Xu Ziyang knew about the dissolution of his and Cen Yan's engagement. Lian Ci was naturally suspicious — if he learned that the method of dissolution had come from Chu Rong, he would inevitably develop some groundless suspicions and come to confront him.

Chu Rong lowered his long lashes partway, thought for a moment, and obediently gave a nod — Ning Yuan's standing in the three realms was extraordinary. Lian Ci would not dare do anything to him. Having Ning Yuan step forward to handle it was, in every regard, the most appropriate option.

Only — this would mean owing Ning Yuan yet another favor.

Chu Rong realized belatedly that the debt of gratitude he owed Ning Yuan seemed to be growing rather substantial.

At the main gate.

Seeing the water-membrane-like barrier, Lian Ci understood at once that Ning Yuan had set a restriction over Wusong Residence.

He had no choice but to stop at the entrance, suppressing the fury in his chest with great effort, and bow with utmost courtesy: "There is a matter that Lian must speak with Chu Rong about directly. I would ask the Immortal Venerate…"

Before he could finish, Ning Yuan's tall figure appeared at the gate. An imposing pressure radiated from his person.

A sweetness surged to Lian Ci's throat, cutting off all further speech.

Cen Yan's mouth was also full of the metallic taste of blood. He bent his back and said, with difficulty: "This is an internal matter of our sect. I respectfully ask the Immortal Venerate not to interfere."

Ning Yuan looked down. In an instant, a powerful surge of suppression swept straight into Cen Yan's chest, and Cen Yan spat out another great mouthful of blood.

"Cen Yan, he has nothing to do with you anymore." Ning Yuan looked down at the disheveled Cen Yan from above, his gaze as though regarding a dead thing.

The engagement was dissolved — Chu Rong had severed all ties with Cen Yan cleanly, and had no connection whatsoever with Qingyang. With that being the case, where did "internal sect matter" come into it?

Lian Ci's expression shifted. Before he could parse the full meaning of Ning Yuan's words, he quickly dropped to his knees in supplication: "Immortal Venerate, Yan'er acted impulsively and had no intention of disrespecting the Immortal Venerate. But Yan'er spoke from a sincere concern — we do not wish to see the Immortal Venerate deceived by Chu Rong again!"

Lian Ci spoke without pause: "The Immortal Venerate may not know this, but Chu Rong feigned disfigurement to infiltrate Qingyang, his motives impure from the very beginning. He used Yan'er's name to commit all manner of wrongs, and killed three disciples of our sect. Today's affair was also his own scheme — he staged the entire thing to frame Ziyang. We beg the Immortal Venerate to see clearly!"

Ning Yuan had lived side by side with Chu Rong for four months. He knew what kind of person Chu Rong was better than anyone.

It was plainly those within the sect who had bullied Chu Rong at every turn — not even the fiancé who had formed the engagement with him had paid him any attention, leaving him to struggle for survival in the cracks between everyone else.

And today's danger was even more extreme. Had Ning Yuan not arrived in time, he shuddered to think what condition Chu Rong would have ended up in.

Every word Lian Ci was saying was treading directly on Ning Yuan's minefield.

"Staged by himself?" Ning Yuan's oppressive force shifted abruptly around him, flooding the entire rear mountain in a sky-blotting wave. Even He Ming, still in the main hall, could feel the pressure.

Let alone Lian Ci — in nearly an instant, it was as though Mount Tai had descended upon him. His head was driven down heavily, and half his body was pressed into the ground!

"A mortal can use the Body-Binding Technique?"

"A mortal can use the Sealed-Voice Incantation?"

"A mortal possesses the Spring Entanglement?"

Each of Ning Yuan's sentences landed heavier than the last, and the oppressive force he unleashed grew more crushing with each one. Lian Ci's seven orifices were bleeding, and bursts of stars flashed before his eyes — his vision going dark in waves — yet every word still reached him with perfect clarity.

Body-Binding Technique?

Sealed-Voice Incantation?

Spring Entanglement?

Having cultivated for several hundred years, Lian Ci was of course well-acquainted with what the Spring Entanglement was. His expression shattered all at once.