At the sound of those words, Xue Laohu's grip loosened, and his cup slipped from his fingers, shattering against the floor. The sharp sound echoed through the room, but his glare remained locked on Ye Hu. His jaw tightened, the veins in his hand flexing as he clenched his fists.
"I take full responsibility for everything that has happened to you." Ye Hu's voice was steady, but the weight of his words pressed heavily against the space between them. He brought Xue Tuzi's delicate hand close to his chest, his thumb brushing lightly over his skin before lifting it to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles. His eyes brimmed with sorrow. "You didn't have a good master to protect you."
Xue Laohu's patience snapped. His palm slammed against the table with a sharp crack. "Are you slandering me?" His voice was thick with anger, his eyes blazing as they bore into Ye Hu.
Ye Hu's lips curled with disdain. "I don't know how you can call yourself a Grandmaster and allow a demon to tag along." He scoffed, his fingers tightening around Xue Tuzi's wrist, as if to keep him from slipping away.
Across the table, Li Zhameng bristled at the insult, his brows knitting in frustration, but before he could speak, Xue Laohu lifted a hand, silently warning him to hold his tongue.
"Gege…" Xue Tuzi's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but Ye Hu pressed forward.
"Not only that," he continued, his voice laced with barely restrained fury, "but that demon has planted a Gu into Xiao Tuzi's heart, forcing him to—" He halted abruptly, the words bitter on his tongue. His grip on Xue Tuzi trembled slightly before he forced himself to say it. "Forcing him to dual cultivate."
Xue Tuzi sucked in a sharp breath, his entire body stiffening. His chest tightened with shame, his eyes widening as a deep flush of humiliation spread across his face. Xue Laohu opened his mouth, but for once, no words came. His entire goal had been for Xue Tuzi and Shudu to fornicate, but now, under Ye Hu's scrutiny, he could not admit to it. He could not let them know.
Ye Hu turned to Xue Tuzi, his gaze softening, filled with something dangerously close to pity. "You don't have to hide it… I know." He exhaled slowly before his expression hardened once more, he turned back to Xue Laohu, jabbing a finger toward him. "And you—you're a so-called Grandmaster and didn't even notice?"
Xue Laohu's breath hitched, his spine went rigid. He had no retort. Li Zhameng swallowed, his gaze darting between his Shizun, Xue Tuzi, and Ye Hu, his lips pressed into a thin line.
"Please, Gege, don't blame Shizun for my poor decisions." Xue Tuzi's voice was desperate, pleading.
Ye Hu's expression softened further as he reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of Xue Tuzi's cheek before cupping it gently. "Xiao Tuzi, you've suffered enough." His voice was quiet, full of unspoken promises. "Please… allow me to protect you."
Xue Laohu felt his stomach churn. He knew how much Xue Tuzi cared for Ye Hu, how deep their bond ran—but at the same time, he could not allow him to leave. If Xue Tuzi left, he would never have his happily ever after with Shudu, and Xue Laohu himself would cease to exist.
"A-Tuzi…" His voice wavered slightly as he reached out, as if he could stop him with just his words alone.
Xue Tuzi clutched his head, overwhelmed, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The weight of Ye Hu's offer, the conflicting emotions that tore his heart, were too much to bear.
Ye Hu reached out, pulling him into his single arm, his embrace steady, warm. "Please consider my proposition," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Xue Tuzi's forehead before stepping back. With one last glance, he turned and departed.
Silence stretched in the room, thick and suffocating.
"A-Tuzi…" Xue Laohu finally spoke, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. "Do you really intend to leave?" His gaze was cast downward, his expression unreadable, but the sadness in his eyes was undeniable.
Li Zhameng, unable to hold his tongue any longer, leaned forward. "A-Tuzi, please don't leave. What about Xiao Jiao? You can't possibly leave him behind!" His voice was urgent, laced with worry.
Xue Tuzi's fingers curled into the fabric of his robes, his heart clenching painfully. "…He can come with me," he said at last, but the hesitation in his voice was clear. His eyes welled up, threatening to spill over.
"So you do intend to leave." Xue Laohu's voice was sharp this time, laced with something close to betrayal. His eyes burned into Xue Tuzi, but his disciple could not even meet his gaze.
"Have I really failed you as a master?" Xue Laohu's fists trembled at his sides, his emotions raw, his voice tight with barely concealed hurt. "If you wish to leave, then go."
The words were cold, but Xue Laohu didn't mean them. It was a desperate gamble—reverse psychology, a test of Xue Tuzi's heart. He prayed that Xue Tuzi would hesitate, and stay. But instead, Xue Tuzi shot up from the table, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. Tears streaked his face as he turned on his heel and fled, his robes fluttering behind him.
Xue Laohu stood frozen, his throat dry, his pulse roaring in his ears.
Li Zhameng watched him carefully before lowering his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "…Shizun."
But Xue Laohu said nothing. His hand remained curled into a tight fist, his nails digging into his palm.
He had never expected him to actually leave.
"Shizun…" Li Zhameng's voice was quiet but firm, his brows drawn together in worry. "Why would you tell A-Tuzi to leave?"
Xue Laohu let out a heavy breath, dragging a hand across his face. He hadn't actually thought Xue Tuzi would listen. He had expected hesitation, some resistance—at the very least, a moment of doubt. Instead, Xue Tuzi had bolted like his heart had already made the decision long before the words had left his own lips.
Li Zhameng lowered his gaze, his fingers curling into his robes as if something was pressing heavily on his chest. "That man…" His voice carried an unease that he couldn't quite put into words. "I don't like him."
Xue Laohu let out a dry chuckle, though it lacked amusement, it seemed Li Zhameng was just as unsettled by him as Xue Laohu was and he couldn't quite pinpoint why. Was it because Ye Hu was interfering with Xue Tuzi and Shudu's love affair? Because he had the audacity to call him a hypocrite? Or was it something deeper, something darker? His mind flashed back to the way Ye Hu had looked at Jiao Jiao—cold, empty, as if the child were nothing more than a meaningless obstacle. Xue Laohu's fists clenched at the memory. It must have been that.
Meanwhile, in the village, Shudu walked hand in hand with Jiao Jiao, the child's tiny fingers curled around his own. But despite the warm grip of Shudu's hand, Jiao Jiao' still miss his Xue Tuzi's touch.
Shudu slowed his steps and turned to face the child, crouching down to his level. He placed his hands firmly on Jiao Jiao's small shoulders, his expression unreadable. "Listen," he said, voice low and measured. "He doesn't love you anymore. He chose that bastard."
The words cut through the air like a blade.
"Master!" Xiao Zongzi gasped, eyes widening in horror just as Jiao Jiao's face crumpled. A hiccup broke from his lips before he burst into wailing sobs, tears streaming down his plump cheeks as his tiny hands clutched at Shudu's robes.
Onlookers turned at the commotion, their expressions twisting in shock and disbelief. Murmurs spread through the crowd like wildfire.
"What kind of cruel father says such things to a child?"
"Poor thing, abandoned by his mother at such a young age…"
Their words only fed the spectacle. Women covered their mouths, horrified yet transfixed by the sight of the strikingly handsome father and his devastated son.
Shudu remained unbothered. He merely sighed, shifting his weight as if scolding a child into reality was no different from disciplining a disobedient disciple. "It's better to tell him now," he said, sparing Xiao Zongzi a glance before looking back at his son, "so he won't get his hopes up."
But Jiao Jiao did not stop crying. He did not understand. He did not want to understand.
The whispers among the villagers turned softer, shifting into admiration despite their initial judgment.
"I wouldn't mind being a stepmother to a child with such a handsome father…"
"Look at that face… so striking, so masculine."
Their eyes flickered over Shudu, unable to help themselves. His broad, muscular frame was barely concealed by his loose, half-buttoned shirt, the warm sunlight accentuating the sharp contours of his chest and collarbones. His tanned skin was decorated with ink—poisonous and nefarious creatures writhing in black across his powerful arm. His long, jet-black braid, thick and glossy, cascaded down his back, swaying as he moved. He was untamed, lethal, yet devastatingly alluring.
And Jiao Jiao—despite his distress—was a perfect reflection of him. The same delicate yet defined features, the same long lashes and striking gaze. But where Shudu's eyes were sharp and predatory, Jiao Jiao's burned a fiery red, set against the porcelain fairness of his skin. His mother must have been a beauty as well, they mused, though their sympathy for the child remained.
Shudu exhaled and lifted Jiao Jiao into his arms, settling him against his chest. The child squirmed, kicking and thrashing, but Shudu held firm, his grip unyielding. "Enough crying," he muttered, voice edged with warning. Jiao Jiao's sobs softened into pitiful hiccups, though his eyes remained puffy, his lips trembling with the effort of holding back more tears.
Shudu sighed, loosening his hold just slightly. "Do you want to go with him?" His voice had softened, tinged with something close to sadness. Jiao Jiao hesitated, then slowly nodded, his small hands clutching at Shudu's shirt. His lips were pouted tightly into a deep frown, his chest still heaving.
"Then cut it out, and I'll take you," Shudu scolded.
At that, Jiao Jiao finally stilled, nestling himself into Shudu's chest. His tiny nose twitched, seeking warmth, comfort. He was used to Xue Tuzi's soft, smooth skin, the scent of peach blossoms and something soothing. But he was too hungry to be picky.
His small mouth opened, and before Shudu could react, Jiao Jiao latched onto his chest—his tiny teeth sinking into his nipple as he suckled.
Shudu jolted.
The village women gasped before dissolving into barely restrained giggles, their faces flushing at the sight of the struggling young father.
Shudu's expression darkened in disbelief, his grip on Jiao Jiao tightening. "You little—" He swallowed his frustration, feeling the sharp sting of tiny teeth against his skin.
The women watched in amusement, their admiration only deepening.
A ruthless man, a cold-hearted warrior—and yet, here he was, helpless against his own child.