Chapter Seventy-Six

Every time the offspring gu had its bouts, Chú Róng's qi and blood were depleted a little more. Over so many years, through countless bouts of illness, the qi and blood within his body had been nearly exhausted entirely by the offspring gu.

While clearing the toxins, Yún Sōng simultaneously worked to replenish Chú Róng's qi and blood. The amount of medicine added increased day by day, and with it the smell grew heavier and heavier, more and more pungent by the day — so strong it even suppressed the orchid fragrance drifting through the palace, until even Chú Róng's clothes carried a trace of that medicinal smell.

But the results were evident immediately. Chú Róng could clearly feel his body growing lighter and lighter. The heaviness that had always pervaded his limbs had vanished entirely.

Colour returned visibly to his complexion, coming back day by day. The lips that had always been so pale gradually filled with vitality, their colour deepening into a vivid rose-red. The way they parted and closed was an enticement in itself.

Ning Yuan could not look without the darkness rising in his eyes. He could not stop himself from leaning toward him, lips pressing over those rose-red lips of his: "Róng'er."

The man's devastatingly handsome face grew larger and larger before Chú Róng's eyes. His thick lashes quivered once, like the wings of a butterfly. He lowered his gaze slightly — yet did not move, did not pull away. He let the familiar, overwhelming presence of the man envelop him entirely.

Within the palace built like crystal, the rich, quiet fragrance of orchids spread through the air, drifting and floating amid the smell of medicine, stirring the heart and beguiling the soul.

—

Two months passed by in a drift. On the final day of the detoxification, Yún Sōng arrived punctually at Wangxian Peak to deliver the medicine.

"Immortal Venerable." Yún Sōng bowed respectfully, making his request: "The young master's medicine has arrived."

Mist and water-vapour hung all about the palace. The droplets flung off the cliff face by the waterfall drifted like clouds and fog.

The palace doors were shut tight. Inside, a slender-framed young man was pressed with his back against the windowsill, trapped between solid and broad chest and the window frame.

His slender neck was arched upward. Ink-dark lotus-petal hair fell loose in the air around him. Between the strands, a large, powerfully-knuckled hand cradled the back of his head, controlling the tilt of it.

His rose-red lips were parted open, enduring the man's advances. At the corners of his lips — unable to close — glistening, transparent threads of saliva trickled down.

Hearing Yún Sōng's voice from outside the hall, his crow-feather lashes gave a tremor. His jade-white fingers, clutching the man's lapel, pulled with all their strength.

"S-someone's there." Chú Róng struggled with difficulty to turn his head away, evading Ning Yuan's lips and tongue. His eyes were veiled in a haze of moisture, light rippling across them.

Ning Yuan seemed not to hear. His long arm tightened around the slender waist, locking Chú Róng firmly against himself. He lowered his head, pressed a kiss to Chú Róng's eyes, then chased the swollen lips and covered them again.

Yún Sōng waited the length of one incense stick. Hearing no response from inside the hall, he made his request once more.

After another quarter-hour, a low and rough voice of assent came from within: "Come in."

Yún Sōng carried the medicine and walked carefully into the palace, keeping Ning Yuan's warning in mind, his head lowered, eyes fixed forward.

"This is the last bowl." Yún Sōng set the medicine down with great propriety, and dutifully reported the status of the detoxification: "Once it is taken, the poison in the young master's body will be entirely cleared. However, as all medicine has some toxicity, the young master will need to recuperate for two days before he can be considered fully recovered."

"Understood." Ning Yuan gave a slight nod. His tall frame stood at the window, holding the limp, drained person in his arms, and committed Yún Sōng's instructions carefully to memory.

Yún Sōng kept his head low, preparing to withdraw from the palace.

"Wait a moment." A voice of warm, sweet beauty suddenly rang out — its tone carrying a hint of breathlessness, as though it bore a hook, pulling unbearably at the heart.

Yún Sōng's ears prickled and, without meaning to, he raised his head to look at the one who had spoken.

The young man of extraordinary beauty extracted himself from the Immortal Venerable's embrace, clasped his hands together and bowed sincerely toward Yún Sōng. His jade cheeks were tinged with a blush of red, the glistening light in his eyes shimmering and shifting, the flush at the corners of his eyes appearing as though alive — as though it could ensnare the very soul: "Thank you, Elder Yún Sōng."

If not for Yún Sōng, the poison would not have been cleared so quickly. Regardless of whether Yún Sōng had acted on Ning Yuan's orders, this was a word of thanks he owed.

Yún Sōng's eyes went blank on the spot. He had not taken in much of what Chú Róng said at all.

"Yún Sōng." Two words, cold as ice, struck Yún Sōng's ears. Ning Yuan extended his arms and drew Chú Róng back into his embrace. His face was cold and still, and the aura around him was enough to make one's heart clench and flesh crawl.

Yún Sōng came back to himself. Cold sweat broke out on his brow. He waved his hand repeatedly and found an excuse to take his leave: "I dare not accept such thanks — it is only my duty to save lives, and the young master need not thank me. There is still business at the Medicine House. I will take my leave first."

Chú Róng thought nothing more of it. Once Yún Sōng had left the palace, he turned his gaze to the medicine on the table. The liquid was a pitch black, like overturned ink. Wisps of steam drifted above it, and the thick, awful smell made an unrelenting assault on the lower limits of Chú Róng's sense of smell.

Chú Róng drew a deep breath, gently pushed Ning Yuan away, walked to the table at a measured pace, picked up the medicine bowl, held his breath, and drank it down in one go.

The nose-piercing smell of medicine spread through his mouth. As the last mouthful of medicine was swallowed, a candied fruit arrived at his lips. Chú Róng's brows creased with discomfort, and he quickly parted his lips to take it.

"Rest for two days, and then I'll teach you how to draw qi into your body." Ning Yuan passed him another candied fruit and gently rubbed Chú Róng's slender shoulder and back, helping him settle his breath.

Forcing down the medicinal taste in his mouth, Chú Róng smoothed out his brow: "I know how."

Back at Qingyang Heavenly Sect, Yunzhi had taught him the incantation for drawing qi. Chú Róng had a good memory — he still remembered every word clearly.

"It's different. Each sect in the cultivation world has its own cultivation method, and the approaches to practice vary greatly across the Hundred Immortal Sects." Since Chú Róng would be staying at Qīngxū Sect from now on, he ought naturally to use Qīngxū Sect's method.

This was something Chú Róng had not known — it had not been described in detail in the original novel either. But thinking it over carefully, it made perfect sense.

"Then what is Qīngxū Sect's incantation for drawing qi?" Chú Róng tilted his fair face up and asked with curiosity.

Ning Yuan recited the incantation word by word. Chú Róng compared it to what he remembered inside his mind, and indeed found it completely unlike what Yunzhi had taught him.

Qīngxū Sect's cultivation method was clearly superior to Qingyang Heavenly Sect's. No wonder Qīngxū Sect stood as the foremost among all sects — its strength was unrivalled, and no one could shake it.

When the child gu attacked, it consumed some of Chu Rong's vital energy and blood. Over the years, as Chu Rong had fallen ill countless times, his vital energy and blood had been nearly drained by the child gu.

While neutralizing the poison, Yun Song also replenished Chu Rong's vital energy and blood, adding more and more medicinal ingredients each day. The medicine grew stronger in flavor, its smell more unpleasant by the day, suppressing even the orchid fragrance that lingered in the palace. Even the folds of Chu Rong's robes became tainted with the scent of herbs.

But the effects were immediate. Chu Rong could clearly feel his body growing lighter, the previous heaviness in his limbs vanishing completely.

His complexion became visibly rosier, and his usually pale lips gradually flushed with color, turning a vivid red that seemed to beckon with every parting and closing.

Ning Yuan watched him with darkening eyes, unable to resist leaning in closer, drawn to those crimson lips. "Rongrong."

The man's handsome, almost divine face grew larger before Chu Rong's eyes. His thick, dark lashes fluttered like a butterfly's wings as he slightly lowered his gaze. He remained motionless, neither avoiding nor retreating, allowing the familiar, intense, invading aura to envelop him completely.

Inside the crystal-palace, the rich, delicate fragrance of orchids drifted through the air, mingling with the scent of medicine, stirring the heart and senses.

-

Two months passed peacefully. On the final day of the detoxification, Yun Song arrived at Wangxian Peak with the medicine as scheduled.

"Immortal Venerable," Yun Song bowed respectfully. "Young Master's medicine has arrived."

The area around the palace was thick with drifting mist, and droplets cascading from the peak's cliffs were like clouds and fog.

The palace doors were tightly shut. Inside, a long-limbed man leaned back against the windowsill, trapped between a solid, broad chest and the window frame.

His slender neck was arched back, his jet-black, lotus-like hair spilling into the air. Amidst the strands, a large hand with long, powerful fingers cradled the back of his head, controlling him gently.

His crimson lips were parted, yielding to the man's invasion, and thin, transparent strands of saliva trickled from the corners of his mouth, unable to close completely.

Hearing Yun Song's voice outside, his lashes, dark as crow feathers, trembled. His jade-white fingers, clutching the other man's robes, tugged with effort.

"There's... someone," Chu Rong said with difficulty, turning his head away to evade Ning Yuan's lips and tongue. His eyes were misty, shimmering with light.

Ning Yuan acted as if he hadn't heard. His long arm tightened around Chu Rong's slender waist, holding him firmly in his embrace. He lowered his head to kiss Chu Rong's eyes, then chased after his swollen lips and pressed down again.

Yun Song waited for the time it takes an incense stick to burn. Receiving no response from inside the palace, he spoke up again to announce his presence.

Another half-quarter of an hour passed before a hoarse voice finally answered from within the hall: "Enter."

Yun Song carried the medicine and entered the palace step by step, keeping his head lowered and his eyes averted, mindful of Ning Yuan's warning not to look around carelessly.

"This is the last bowl of medicine," Yun Song said respectfully as he set the medicine down, dutifully reporting on the detoxification progress. "After taking this, the poison inside Young Master will be completely eliminated. However, as medicine has its own toxicity, Young Master will need to rest for two more days before being considered fully recovered."

"Alright," Ning Yuan acknowledged with a slight nod. His tall frame stood by the window, holding the exhausted man in his arms as he carefully noted Yun Song's instructions.

Yun Song bowed his head and prepared to withdraw from the palace.

"Wait a moment." A melodious, captivating voice suddenly spoke, its tone carrying a hint of breathlessness, as if it bore a small hook that tugged at the listener's heart.

Yun Song's ears tingled. Unable to resist, he raised his head to look at the speaker.

The extraordinarily beautiful man had just broken free from the Immortal Venerable's embrace. He clasped his hands and bowed sincerely to Yun Song. His jade-like cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue, his eyes shimmered with liquid light, and the red at the corners of his eyes seemed alive, as if ready to steal one's soul away. "Thank you, Elder Yun."

If not for Yun Song, his poison would not have been cured so quickly. Regardless of whether Yun Song acted under Ning Yuan's orders, he still deserved this thanks.

Yun Song's eyes went wide and fixed in place. He barely heard a word Chu Rong said.

"Yun Song." Two words, cold as ice, sounded in Yun Song's ear. Ning Yuan stretched out his arm and pulled Chu Rong back into his embrace. His expression was icy, his aura terrifying and unsettling.

Yun Song snapped out of it, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He waved his hands repeatedly, finding an excuse to take his leave. "You flatter me, you flatter me. Saving people is my duty. Young Master, please do not thank me. There are matters to attend to at the alchemy hut. I will take my leave now."

Chu Rong thought nothing of it. After Yun Song left the palace, he turned his gaze to the medicine on the table. The liquid was pitch black, like spilled ink. Wisps of steam rose from its surface, and the strong, unpleasant smell continuously assaulted Chu Rong's senses, pushing them to their limit.

Chu Rong took a deep breath, gently pushed Ning Yuan aside, and slowly walked to the table. He picked up the bowl, held his breath, and downed its contents in one go.

The intensely pungent medicinal flavor spread through his mouth. Just as he swallowed the last drop, a candied fruit was brought to his lips. Frowning slightly from the discomfort, Chu Rong quickly opened his mouth and ate the preserved fruit.

"Rest for two days. I will teach you how to guide qi into your body." Ning Yuan offered him another candied fruit, gently stroking Chu Rong's thin back and shoulders to help him settle his breath.

Barely suppressing the medicinal taste in his mouth, Chu Rong relaxed his brow. "I know how."

In Qingyang Tianzong, Yun Zhi had taught him the techniques for guiding qi. Chu Rong had a good memory and still remembered them clearly.

"It's different. In the cultivation world, each sect has its own core methods. The practices of the Hundred Immortal Schools vary endlessly." Since Chu Rong would be staying in Qingxu Sect, it was only natural that he should use Qingxu Sect's methods.

This was something Chu Rong hadn't known. The original text hadn't gone into such detail either, though it made sense upon reflection.

"Then what is the qi-guiding method of Qingxu Sect?" Chu Rong tilted his fair face slightly and asked curiously.

Ning Yuan recited the method word by word. Chu Rong compared it in his mind and indeed found it completely different from what Yun Zhi had taught him.

Qingxu Sect's core method was clearly superior to that of Qingyang Tianzong. No wonder Qingxu Sect was the number one immortal sect, with unmatched strength that no one could shake.

The Qingxu Sect's method was also not long. Chu Rong memorized it completely after hearing it just once.

"No need to rush." Ning Yuan reached out his large hand and took hold of Chu Rong's jade-colored fingertips, leading him to sit down at the writing desk. He wrapped his arms around him from behind, leaned close to his ear, and said, "Before you start cultivating, first memorize a few important acupoints."

Chu Rong's previous qi-guiding had been more of a spur-of-the-moment thing. He hadn't realized that recognizing acupoints was necessary before starting cultivation.

He lowered his long lashes and watched intently as Ning Yuan spread out a sheet of rice paper, took up a brush, and drew a complete and accurate diagram of the human body's acupoints.

"Dantian, Bǎihuì acupoint…" Ning Yuan marked the acupoints as he spoke. "These acupoints are crucial. If the guided qi travels through even a single wrong acupoint, it could cause the body to explode."

The consequences were that severe?

Chu Rong was secretly alarmed. He listened even more attentively, following the points Ning Yuan circled and memorizing each acupoint carefully.

-

During the two days of rest, Chu Rong did not remain idle. He combined the acupoint diagram with the method Ning Yuan had taught him, working to integrate them thoroughly.

At noon on the third day, when the yang energy was strongest,

Chu Rong sat on the edge of the jade couch. The layered, gossamer hem of his robes cascaded to the floor like petals of an epiphyllum.

Ning Yuan set up a restriction on Wangxian Peak, forbidding anyone from approaching. He leaned over and embraced the person on the couch. "Don't worry. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."

The man's tone was cool and deep, without obvious emotional inflection, yet it brought a profound sense of security. Chu Rong's eyes flickered slightly. His jade-like cheek rested against the man's broad chest, his heart stirred involuntarily.

"I know what to do," Chu Rong said, raising a hand to gently push Ning Yuan away, signaling the man to let go of him.

Ning Yuan tightened his arms around him, holding him even closer. "If you feel anything wrong, stop immediately. Don't push through."

Failure once meant they could try a second time, a third time… Ning Yuan's greatest fear was seeing Chu Rong get hurt.

"Alright," Chu Rong nodded slightly and pushed against Ning Yuan again.

Only then did Ning Yuan release him. He set up a protective barrier around Chu Rong and retreated outside the palace to stand guard.

Alone in the vast palace, Chu Rong gathered his thoughts. He sat cross-legged on the jade couch, palms facing upward on his knees.

Once cultivation began, there was no turning back. But Chu Rong did not regret his decision. He calmed his mind and spirit, his thick lashes falling to cast a row of shadows beneath his eyes, and silently recited the method for guiding qi into his body.

As he recited the method line by line, the spiritual energy within the palace seemed drawn by an invisible force. Strand by strand, it drifted toward him, entering his body.

By the time he finished reciting the method once, all the spiritual energy in the palace had gathered around him, forming streams of white, smoky mist.

Inside Chu Rong's body, in his previously empty dantian, wisps of spiritual energy began to flow in. Wisp by wisp, the dantian gradually filled, warming his body.

Chu Rong's limbs relaxed slightly. A flushed, crimson blush bloomed on his delicately carved jade cheeks.

But then, the warmth within his body receded like the ebbing tide. A sharp, agonizing pain, sudden and unexpected, swept over him.

Chu Rong's flushed face turned deathly pale in an instant. His supple body trembled uncontrollably, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, dampening the hair at his temples.

It hurt.

Even more painful than a child gu attack.

Chu Rong felt as if he had become a piece of iron, constantly being hammered and tempered. The waves of torment nearly swallowed him whole.

He clenched his fingers, his nails digging deep into his palms. His chest rose and fell with difficulty. His entire body was drenched in sweat, his robes soaked as if pulled from water.

At the same time, outside the palace, the clear sky abruptly turned dark.

Massive swaths of dark, ominous clouds gathered from all directions over Wangxian Peak, casting a shadow over the entire Qingxu Sect.

"Wh-wh-what is this?" Disciples within the sect looked up in astonishment, their gazes fixed on the direction where the dark clouds were converging.

Inside the main hall, Jin Tuo and the others, who had been discussing sect affairs, also noticed the anomaly in the sky. They hurriedly stepped outside to look. One glance and their eyes went wide, their eyeballs nearly popping out of their sockets.

Everyone present had been cultivating for centuries. How could they not recognize the sight before them?

"These are tribulation clouds!" Jin Tuo's face flushed red. His breathing was rapid and heavy, his expression barely concealing his excitement. "Someone on Wangxian Peak is undergoing a tribulation! So many tribulation clouds… the talent this requires is absolutely terrifying! I've only ever seen such a sight when the Immortal Venerable underwent his tribulation!"

The elders exchanged glances, their hearts racing with excitement as well. Was Qingxu Sect about to produce another unparalleled genius, one rivaling the Immortal Venerable himself?

Wait!

Second Elder suddenly realized something, and the smile on his face froze. "Isn't the only person on Wangxian Peak the Immortal Venerable?"

Had the Immortal Venerable, who had only reached the Great Vehicle stage a few months ago, broken through to the next level already?

Second Elder knew Ning Yuan's talent was unmatched, but the higher the stage, the harder the breakthrough. Was the Immortal Venerable's cultivation advancing a little too… quickly?

Jin Tuo and the others reacted belatedly, also sensing that something was amiss.

"What if," Yun Song swallowed nervously, speaking hesitantly into the heavy silence, "just what if, the person attracting these tribulation clouds isn't the Immortal Venerable?"

As everyone knew, the higher a cultivator's talent, the more tribulation clouds they would summon during their tribulation. Aside from Ning Yuan, who else in the Three Realms could produce such clouds that blotted out the sky?

"Nonsense. Apart from the Immortal Venerable, who else on Wangxian Peak could possibly… No! Wait!" Jin Tuo gasped sharply, his face a mask of utter disbelief. "Y-Y-You don't mean… Young Master Chu?!"

Author's Note:

Happy New Year, everyone!