Chapter Eighty One

Chú Róng turned around. The rosy light fell across the side of his face, making him look impossibly, breathtakingly beautiful: "Thank you. You've looked after this orchid very well."

The flowers were even more vibrant than when he had left. A faint orchid fragrance drifted through the air — a testament to Yunzhi's care.

Yunzhi's eyes went red in an instant. He looked at Chú Róng in a daze, like someone who hadn't quite come back to his senses, his lips murmuring: "I— am I dreaming?"

Senior Brother Cen had been as good as his word, and had truly brought the Young Master back. From now on, he would be able to see the Young Master every day and stay by his side.

Yunzhi trembled with excitement, unable to hold himself back. He stepped forward twice, walking toward the person by the window: "This was all— all something I should have done. I cleaned every day and kept waiting for the Young Master to come……"

Before he could finish, a gust of wind charged with spiritual energy struck the ground at his feet, splitting a narrow, deep crack in the surface.

Ning Yuan's tall frame moved slightly forward, one arm extended to block Chú Róng's figure. The gaze he directed down at Yunzhi was cold without a shred of warmth.

Yunzhi's face drained of color all at once. Only then did he notice there was a man beside Chú Róng — the same man who, two months ago, had taken the Young Master away.

Chú Róng raised a hand and pressed it lightly against Ning Yuan's solid arm. He took out the dragon breath he had brought along, floated it on a current of spiritual energy, and passed it to Yunzhi across the distance: "I came this time to keep my promise. You helped me before — this strand of dragon breath is my way of repaying that debt. In the future, if you ever find yourself in difficulty, you need only tell me, and I will do everything I can to help."

The powerful spiritual energy contained within the dragon breath should be enough to help Yunzhi successfully draw qi into his body.

Yunzhi had saved him and spared him from humiliation. He would help Yunzhi open the door to cultivation and set him on a path of his own. From that point on, their debts to each other would be settled — neither would owe the other anything more.

Ning Yuan glanced sideways, his gaze landing briefly on the jade-white fingers resting on his arm. His throat gave a quiet roll.

Dragon breath?

Lián Cí had not let word of the Dragon Vein Ancient Land spread. Not many disciples in the sect knew the details — but Yunzhi, serving Cen Yan in the inner gate, had heard a thing or two, and knew well enough how precious dragon breath was — so precious it was utterly beyond his reach for a lifetime.

And yet now, the Young Master was giving it to him?

"No, no, no." Yunzhi was overcome with awe and unease, shaking his head and waving his hands, backing away: "The Young Master saved me — I was happy to use what little strength I had to be of service. The Young Master has already given me more than enough. Something as rare and precious as dragon breath — giving it to me would be casting pearls before swine. It should rightfully stay with the Young Master."

Yunzhi knew his own limitations. His aptitude was slow and dull. He had originally come to Qingyang just to earn his keep and have enough to eat. As for whether he could ever cultivate — he had long since given up hope on that.

Even if the Young Master kept this dragon breath as a toy or a decoration, it would still be better used on him than given away to Yunzhi.

"If I'm giving it to you, then you deserve it." Chú Róng directed the dragon breath to drift toward Yunzhi's hand: "Don't worry. I've placed a restriction seal on this strand of dragon breath. No one other than you will be able to use it."

The tiny point of light that was a single strand of dragon breath cast its glow across the back of his hand. A cool, refreshing sensation spread through his palm. His whole body felt comforted and at ease.

Yunzhi bowed his head and looked at the dragon breath beside his hand, momentarily unable to speak.

With another old matter settled, Chú Róng withdrew his hand and pointed toward the neatly arranged bookshelf: "There is a hidden compartment behind the bookshelf. Please pass word to Cen Yan — as for what to do with the things inside, I trust he'll know how to handle it."

Having recovered his memories, Chú Róng also recalled his past intention in hiding those items — he had been waiting only for the right moment to return them all.

This was also one of the reasons Chú Róng had come to Qingyang. His grievances had already been cleared. It was time for those stolen goods to be returned to their rightful owners.

As for who those owners were — Cen Yan would surely know.

There's a hidden compartment behind the bookshelf?

Yunzhi was dumbfounded. He had cleaned the room every single day and had never known.

"Yes." Whatever the Young Master instructed, Yunzhi would not disobey. He bowed in acknowledgment, not asking any further questions.

Chú Róng gave a small nod. His black hair drifted across his collar. He thanked Yunzhi once more, spread his arms gently, lifted the orchid pot from the windowsill, and walked outside.

Yunzhi came back to himself, quickly pocketed the dragon breath, and hurried after: "Young Master — where are you going?"

Hadn't the Young Master come back to the sect? Wasn't he staying and never leaving again — so why was he leaving after just a few words?

Yunzhi had barely taken two steps when another gust of wind struck the ground at his feet. Ning Yuan, following behind Chú Róng, swept a deep, flat gaze over him.

Yunzhi's scalp prickled. His steps halted abruptly. He stopped where he was, completely unable to move.

Ning Yuan turned his eyes away and reached out to take the orchid pot from Chú Róng's hands.

Chú Róng glanced up at him, let go, and allowed the man to carry the orchid pot away.

At that very moment, the injured Lián Cí and the others had also made their way to Wùsōng Residence. Seeing Chú Róng walking straight toward them, their faces went rigid. The muscles across their bodies tensed with wariness.

But Chú Róng didn't deign to give them so much as a proper glance. He walked straight past them: "I will take the evil energy with me. Do as you see fit."

What?

Lián Cí and the others froze where they stood. Their eyes filled with confusion, as though checking whether they had heard correctly: "You're going to take the evil energy?"

The evil energy couldn't be destroyed — so what did Chú Róng want with it?

Could it be that Chú Róng was planning to use it to take revenge on Qingyang?

It was understandable that Lián Cí would think this. Qingyang and Chú Róng had accumulated quite a deep store of grudges. Not a moment ago, Chú Róng had just inflicted serious injuries on all of them. He couldn't believe Chú Róng was acting out of kindness.

Lián Cí's heart sank into a chill. Chú Róng was Nascent Soul. Killing them would be as easy as lifting a hand. And now he was going to use the evil energy to torment them too — did he really have to go to such lengths to wipe them out completely?

"You can't." Cen Yan said, stopping him with a pale face. The blood soaking from his arm had drenched half his body, a horrifying sight: "The evil energy is dangerous. You have no reason to do this for the sect. Wait a little longer — I will definitely find a way to resolve it……"

"Be quiet." Chú Róng turned his head sideways and looked at Cen Yan with cold indifference. The revulsion in his eyes was utterly undisguised.

For Qingyang? He could only marvel that Cen Yan could even say something like that.

If he simply let the evil energy be, it wouldn't endanger the three realms.

If he hadn't made his promise to the Heavenly Dao to suppress the evil energy, he wouldn't have cared one bit whether the people of Qingyang lived or died.

Cen Yan was struck directly by Chú Róng's gaze. For the first time, he understood with absolute clarity how much Chú Róng despised him and his sect.

Well.

Cen Yan curved his lips into a wretched smile. His face was drained to white. The last trace of light in the depths of his eyes slowly went out. They had treated Chú Róng so badly in the past — had driven him to the edge of death more than once. How could Chú Róng possibly still like Qingyang, or like…… him?

Cen Yan pressed a hand over his chest, which had gone numb with pain. He tugged at the corner of his mouth, wanting to say something. His lips moved open and closed, but no words came out.

The smile at the corner of his lips quickly froze on his face. His eyes slowly reddened. It was all his own fault to blame — every bitter fruit was exactly what he deserved.

Chú Róng paid no further attention to Cen Yan laughing and crying at the same time. He walked out of Wùsōng Residence and went to the site of the sealed evil energy. He shattered the spiritual tool sealing the evil energy and released the two streams of evil energy contained within Qingyang.

Freed from their confinement, the two streams of evil energy surged out at once — like billowing black fog, sweeping toward Qingyang.

Chú Róng leaped into the air and intercepted the evil energy from the right side. Ning Yuan's tall frame flickered, teleporting into the air in an instant — one hand still holding the orchid pot, the other intercepting the evil energy from the left.

Together, the two of them forcibly merged the two streams of evil energy into one and sealed them together.

To prevent the evil energy from escaping, Chú Róng placed layer after layer of restriction seals on the mass of evil energy, making absolutely sure the seal was complete without so much as a single thread leaking out. Then he leaped back onto the Spirit Canal waiting above in the sky.

* * *

By the time Hè Míng and the others came back to their senses, the massive spirit vessel had already shot away into the distance.

The evil energy that had given the sect no peace — it was simply…… gone? And Chú Róng had made no use of the evil energy to take revenge on them at all.

Lián Cí and Hè Míng stared at each other in a daze, unable quite to believe it — the evil energy that had plagued Qingyang for so long and robbed them of their sleep and appetite had truly vanished without a trace.

And just moments ago, he had……

Thinking of his groundless suspicions of Chú Róng, Lián Cí's face burned as though he had been slapped twice. A deep shame flooded through him.

His eye caught Yunzhi out of the corner of his vision, standing motionless and staring blankly at the sky. Lián Cí gave a quiet cough, swallowed down the embarrassment in his chest, and asked in an uneven voice: "What did Chú Róng come to Wùsōng Residence for?"

Yunzhi didn't move, as though he heard nothing at all.

The Young Master had left again.

The Young Master had left him behind again.

"Yunzhi!" Lián Cí raised his voice sharply: "This one is speaking to you — why don't you answer?"

Yunzhi still didn't move, but his mouth shifted, and he finally managed to open it: "The Young Master asked me to pass word to Senior Brother Cen that there is a hidden compartment behind the bookshelf, with something inside. He said for Senior Brother Cen to handle it himself."

For Chú Róng to come in person and leave specific instructions — whatever was in that hidden compartment had to be no ordinary thing.

Lián Cí looked toward Cen Yan with a silent, pressing look.

Cen Yan withdrew his gaze and walked into Wùsōng Residence, clutching his arm.

Chú Róng's room — the door was still standing open. Cen Yan walked step by step to the bookshelf, pressed one hand against it, and pushed it aside, revealing the hidden compartment behind it, packed full to the brim.

When Cen Yan saw what was inside the hidden compartment, his eyes slowly opened wider and wider.

* * *

On the Spirit Canal.

Within the palace.

Once the Spirit Canal had flown out of Qingyang's territory, Chú Róng took out a superior-grade spiritual tool and sealed the evil energy inside it. He turned to look at the man beside him, one brow raised, his luminous eyes carrying a note of teasing: "There's still time to regret it now."

Tiānyá was unimaginably far away — desolate, uninhabited, entirely devoid of life. To go there now might mean not returning for a hundred years.

"No regrets." Ning Yuan set the orchid pot on the writing desk, stepped forward to draw closer to Chú Róng. Both hands settled on his waist, spreading into an embrace around him. He leaned in and pecked a kiss to his beguiling eyes. "You, on the other hand — it's too late to regret now."

From the first moment he had laid eyes on Chú Róng, Chú Róng had been able to belong to no one but him alone. In this life, and every life to come — they would share the same quilt in life and the same grave in death, never to be free of each other.

Chú Róng could easily read the meaning beneath the man's words. His butterfly-wing lashes trembled lightly. He curved his red lips. A smile spread from the corners of his eyes to the edges of his lips — richly and brilliantly beautiful, heart-stopping to behold.

Chú Róng rose onto his toes. His slender arms wrapped around the man's neck. The layers of his gauze robe rippled downward like water. His flushed, rosy lips found the man's lips and brushed them lightly, like a dragonfly skimming the surface of water: "Then I have no regrets either."

The orchid fragrance floated up softly, making Ning Yuan's heart itch almost beyond endurance. His deep, still eyes suddenly went dark. As the person in his arms pulled back from that feather-light brush, just about to retreat — he spread a large hand, cradled the back of Chú Róng's head in his palm, and pressed down again, heavy and urgent.

A vivid crimson flush quickly rose to Chú Róng's jade-white cheeks. Yet he made no move to stop the man's claiming. The smile in his eyes only deepened. He tilted his head back and parted his teeth willingly.

……

Outside the palace.

The Spirit Canal flew straight toward Tiānyá. The rosy light of the sky spread in all directions across the spirit vessel, glowing and brilliant.