Chapter Seventy-Four

Nán Xíngyě raised his head at once. The man of imposing stature descended onto the summit of Wangxian Peak as though walking on level ground, one large and clearly-jointed hand holding a plate of brightly colored candied fruits.

His sharp eyes were slightly lowered. He gazed down from above with sovereign contempt, the depths of his eyes roiling with a darkness that had no bottom — enough to send a chill through one and make one tremble without meaning to.

The muscles in Nán Xíngyě's face immediately tensed with fear. Cold sweat broke out all across his back and trickled down along the seams of his clothing.

Hundreds of years of ingrained authority made him instinctively want to kneel in obeisance, but a glance from the corner of his eye caught the slender figure not far away, and the anger in his heart drove the fear back down.

Nán Xíngyě bit down hard and resisted the crushing pressure, forcibly suppressing the impulse to kneel. His matchlessly handsome face contorted into an expression of indescribable pain as he forced out the words with great difficulty: "I ask the Immortal Venerable to let Chú Róng go. He has suffered too much harm already. He should not be subjected to any more coercion!"

Chú Róng turned his head to look at Nán Xíngyě. The puzzlement on his breathtakingly beautiful features deepened by several degrees. He had only seen Nán Xíngyě once, through the window outside Wusong Lodge — not a single word had passed between them. What was Nán Xíngyě bringing him up for, out of nowhere?

Ning Yuan's eyes narrowed slightly. His gaze swept over Nán Xíngyě with icy disdain. One hand holding the plate of candied fruits, the other half-raised — his long, powerful hand traced an invisible arc through the air like a sharp blade, sweeping Nán Xíngyě aside as one would brush away something unclean: "Get out."

In an instant, a powerful repulsive force drove Nán Xíngyě back step by step. His body was immobilized — he could not even perform the simplest defensive measure.

Watching as Nán Xíngyě was about to tumble off the edge of Wangxian Peak, a figure came rushing up in a blur of speed and caught him steadily: "Xíngyě — are you all right?"

"Second Elder?" Nán Xíngyě turned back. Using the Second Elder's steadying hand, he stood upright, clasped his hands in a bow, and thanked him: "I'm fine. Thank you, Second Elder."

The Second Elder waved it off with a smile, then turned to face Ning Yuan, bowing with proper respect: "Immortal Venerable."

Ning Yuan paid no attention to either of them. He carried the plate of candied fruits and walked toward the person standing gracefully before the palace, his eyes thawing by degrees from their frozen stillness. With his long fingers, he picked up a candied fruit and offered it to the person's lips: "Why did you come out?"

Chú Róng drew his gaze back and looked up at the man before him. After a moment's consideration, he parted his pink, glistening lips, and took the candied fruit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue — vivid red as it flashed for a moment through the warm cavity of his mouth — made all three men present involuntarily tighten their lower abdomen.

Before Nán Xíngyě's arrival, Chú Róng had just taken half a bowl of medicine. Yún Sōng had added an extra medicinal ingredient to strengthen the qi and replenish the blood, which caused the medicine's smell to be several times more intense. He had managed only half the bowl before the overwhelming bitterness became intolerable.

Yet even after eating three pieces of the sugar cake, Chú Róng had been unable to suppress the thick, lingering taste in his mouth.

Unable to bear watching him suffer, Ning Yuan had gone out personally to fetch him candied fruits.

The sweetness of the candied fruits far surpassed that of the sugar cake. After eating one, the medicine taste in Chú Róng's mouth finally began to ease. The furrow of his beautiful brows smoothed open. His fair, radiant face — like a flowering Chinese crabapple tree in full bloom — became all the more dazzlingly beautiful, impossible to look away from.

Three burning gazes fell upon him at once. Chú Róng was oblivious to all of them. He did not respond to the man, but extended two jade-white fingers, picked up a candied fruit, and walked back into the palace without a backward glance.

— The Qīngxū Sect people had come to find Ning Yuan, and no doubt had business to discuss. It was not appropriate for an outsider like him to be present. Chú Róng also had no interest in listening in on Qīngxū Sect's internal affairs.

As for what Nán Xíngyě had said — Chú Róng paid it no mind whatsoever. He felt no particular goodwill toward any of the male leads.

Ning Yuan watched the young man's figure disappear inside the palace. His eyes dropped slightly, gaze settling on his own hand, suspended in the air. His Adam's apple moved. He could not help but close those two fingers, and pressed the pads of his fingertips slowly against each other.

Ning Yuan lowered his hand and turned to look at the Second Elder with cold, indifferent eyes. The pressure in his voice was unmistakable: "What is it?"

The Second Elder instinctively gave a small shiver and came to his senses. He retrieved the recording stone from within his sleeve and presented it to Ning Yuan, reporting everything that had taken place at Qingyang Heavenly Sect without omission: "Zhù Guānwēi is dead. Her remains were thrown into the mountain behind the sect, to be consumed by wild animals."

The Second Elder paused briefly, then continued: "The Hundred Immortal Sects wish to offer their apologies to Young Master Chú in person."

Ning Yuan raised a hand, retrieved the recording stone through the air with his spiritual power, and his tone did not rise or fall — yet the aura around him turned cold as a coating of ice: "Denied."

A pack of accomplices to evil — what face did they have to appear before Róng'er again?

The Second Elder bowed his acceptance, and then heard Ning Yuan continue: "Nán Xíngyě trespassed onto Wangxian Peak and behaved without restraint. Penalty: twenty spiritual lashes, then three months of wall-facing reflection at the Cliff of Contemplation."

"Twenty… twenty spiritual lashes?" The Second Elder was stunned.

It was well known within Qīngxū Sect that thirty spiritual lashes were enough to cost a cultivator more than half their life. Twenty lashes would leave Nán Xíngyě half dead — to say nothing of the Cliff of Contemplation, where ice never thawed year-round and the bitter cold cut to the bone. Even a cultivator could barely endure it.

"What?" Ning Yuan lowered his gaze and looked at the Second Elder with icy eyes: "Do you have an objection?"

The Second Elder did not dare to defy Ning Yuan. He closed his mouth and moved to take Nán Xíngyě away from Wangxian Peak. But Nán Xíngyě pushed his hand aside, bent one knee, and knelt before Ning Yuan on one knee: "Whether the Immortal Venerable wishes to punish or kill me — I will not resist in the slightest. I only ask that the Immortal Venerable release Chú Róng, and allow this disciple to take him away."

Take… take who away?

The Second Elder's eyes went wide and he drew a sharp breath. Now he understood why the Immortal Venerable intended to punish Nán Xíngyě — was the Immortal Venerable's business something a mere disciple like Nán Xíngyě had any right to meddle in?

"Have you lost your mind?" The Second Elder dropped his voice and rebuked him sharply: "Stop talking nonsense! Quickly apologize to the Immortal Venerable!"

If the Immortal Venerable were to truly lose his temper, no one could protect him… Before the Second Elder could finish the thought, the Nán Xíngyě standing before him suddenly had his neck jerked backward by some invisible yet overpowering force, seized by the throat and hoisted into midair.

Ning Yuan raised a hand. The lines of his face were severe, his expression dark. Killing intent and fury showed without any concealment, and even the surrounding air seemed to congeal: "Considering your abilities, I had intended to spare your life — but since you're so determined to court death, I'll grant you the mercy."

But as for taking that person away — not a chance.

In Chú Róng's life, even in death — even if his bones crumbled to ash — he would not permit a second person to lay a hand on him!

"Immortal Venerable — please show mercy!" The Second Elder knew Ning Yuan's character too well. Knowing the man's ways, he believed — truly believed — that he would kill Nán Xíngyě.

The Second Elder hurriedly dropped to his knees and pleaded in desperate earnest: "Xíngyě is young and rash — he did not intentionally offend the Immortal Venerable. Please, in consideration of the bonds within our sect, spare him just this once!"

Ning Yuan seemed not to hear. His five fingers closed tighter and tighter. Nán Xíngyě's face instantly contorted in agony, his complexion swelling a deep purple.

The Second Elder watched with a heart that seized at every moment.

Just as Nán Xíngyě seemed on the verge of losing consciousness, unable to draw another breath, Ning Yuan opened his fingers and let go: "There will not be a next time. He is mine. From now on, put away the thoughts you should not be having. If there is a next time — you die."

As he spoke the words "he is mine," his voice bit down on each syllable heavily, carrying a possessiveness that was utterly undisguised.

"Thank you for the Immortal Venerable's mercy!" The Second Elder let out a long breath of relief. He pushed off the ground with his tiptoes, leapt up, caught the falling Nán Xíngyě, and helped him away.

Before long, both figures had disappeared from Wangxian Peak. Ning Yuan picked up the plate of candied fruits and turned back into the palace.

The palace was sealed with a restriction. Chú Róng had no awareness of what had taken place outside. He stood at the table, head tilted back as he drank down the remaining half-bowl of medicine.

His robe of shark-silk gauze shimmered with flowing light, as thin as the wings of a cicada. As he moved, the layers of his sleeves cascaded downward like the petals of an epiphyllum in bloom. The tasseled cord at his waist cinched the taut, slender line of his figure, making the arc of his waist appear even more fine and narrow.

The thick medicinal taste spread across his lips and tongue, triggering a spasm deep in his abdomen and sending waves of nausea rising through him. Chú Róng's expression shifted slightly. He quickly put the candied fruit in his hand into his mouth.

Haah——

Back from the dead.

Chú Róng's lashes trembled faintly. He extended a hand to set down the jade bowl, when a broad, steady palm reached in from behind, took the bowl from him, and set it on the table.

Chú Róng turned his head. Ning Yuan had appeared behind him at some point, one hand still holding the plate of candied fruits. The depths of his eyes were dark, as though veiled by a layer of shadow — making it impossible to read the emotion within.

The jade-pale fingertips inside Chú Róng's sleeve curled. A faint, inexplicable tension rose within his heart.

"Still feeling very unwell?" Ning Yuan set down the candied fruits, bent a long finger, leaned in slightly, and brushed away the trace of medicine at the corner of Chú Róng's lips. The shadow in his eyes had vanished entirely — as though a moment before had been only Chú Róng's imagination.

Chú Róng didn't think much of it. There was still medicine taste in his mouth, and he didn't much feel like talking. He gave a slight shake of his head; his black hair swayed like ripples across water. When the taste had faded a little, he said quietly: "Not too bad."

After all, to clear the accumulated toxins from his body, no matter how awful the medicine smelled, he had to drink it.

Ning Yuan kept his eyes lowered, his deep gaze moving across Chú Róng's face. Confirming that Chú Róng showed no sign of forcing himself, he recounted what the Second Elder had told him, leaving nothing out.

A faint tremor passed through Chú Róng's pupils, and as his eyes shifted, a thread of light flickered and was gone. Zhù Guānwēi's fate was exactly what he had expected. She was a mortal woman who had played the Hundred Immortal Sects like puppets — did anyone truly think they would let her off lightly?

What he had not expected was that Zhù Guānwēi's manner of death would be identical to what had been written for the original host.

What was this — reaping what you sow, an eye for an eye?

But still — he had at last returned justice to the original host. From this day forward, he could walk openly in this world with nothing to hide.

Chú Róng raised his jade-white fingers, caught the large hand hovering at his lips, and looked directly up at Ning Yuan: "I've already said this before, but I'll say it again — thank you."

As he spoke, the beautifully shaped corners of his thin lips curved upward. The orchid fragrance drifting from his person seeped in everywhere, and like it did with everyone else, it set Ning Yuan's head swimming.

"In that case." Ning Yuan's eyes darkened. His prominent Adam's apple moved. He could not stop himself from opening his muscular arms and pulling Chú Róng's waist in close, pressing him firmly against himself, and leaning down: "Then may I ask for a small reward?"

What reward?

Chú Róng blinked, slightly startled. He wanted to say something — but his lips were sealed shut, and he could not get out a single word.

His glistening eyes widened. All that filled his senses was the man's aggressively invasive presence. The large hand clamped at his waist was as immovable as a wall of copper and iron, leaving him unable to stir.

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Sorry for the long wait~