Yue Wu Huan was bewildered. He didn't understand what distressed his master. Was it perhaps the fallen phoenix kite that had given him a nightmare? The master he knew was mostly composed, but sheltered and naive at times, revealing a child-like disposition—enough to cry over a nightmare?
Song Qing Shi held onto his robe tightly, refusing to let go, burying his face in Yue Wu Huan's chest to wipe away his tears.
Caught between wanting to comfort him and chuckling at his reaction, Yue Wu Huan was at a loss for words. After contemplating for a moment, he took out his purple bamboo flute and blew a few cheerful notes.
The melodious sound brought Song Qing Shi back to his senses. He looked up at the flute in Yue Wu Huan's hands, slowly released his grip, and laid down, resting his head on Yue Wu Huan's lap, listening to the music.
Yue Wu Huan noticed, perhaps due to the evening light, that Song Qing Shi's normally clear eyes held an unsettling expression of pain—as if the beautiful crystal had been darkened by a thick shadow—making him feel uneasy.
Turning to his side, Song Qing Shi gently closed his eyes and said with a smile, "I'd like to hear a happy tune."
Setting aside his concerns for the moment, Yue Wu Huan played a soft and tender foreign melody. He didn't know its name or origin; it was a piece his mother had taught him as a child. The music was said to depict a happy home and joyful memories. He loved this tune; it made him think of melting snow and blooming flowers.
The music washed away all his worries, all his sadness.
The flute music ceased...
Slowly opening his eyes, the shadow that had haunted Song Qingshi's gaze had disappeared, returning to its former state.
Yue Wuhuan thought he must have been mistaken.
"I've never had a nightmare before, how embarrassing," Song Qingshi attempted to regain his dignity, explaining haphazardly, "I dreamed that something I truly cherished was lost and could not be found, no matter how much I searched. The feeling was akin to repeatedly failing in lab experiments with white mice, and not knowing why. It was deeply upsetting..."
Yue Wuhuan couldn't fathom the connection between Song Qingshi's failed mouse experiments and his interests. But he knew Song was unconventional and obsessed with medicine. Each failure struck him hard; he would slump over his desk, too distressed to eat dessert for a long while after documenting these disappointments.
"The numerous failures with the mouse experiments must be devastating," Yue Wuhuan tried to empathize, comforting, "If it were me, I'd probably cry."
Song Qingshi got up, rubbing his red eyes and said bashfully, "You're exaggerating; you wouldn't cry..."
Yue Wuhuan joked, "If my Lord wishes to see me cry, I can always use some chemicals to induce tears."
Song Qingshi chuckled, "I don't want to see you cry."
Yue Wuhuan asked, "Then what do you want to see?"
Suddenly, Song Qingshi leaned closer and studied Yue Wuhuan's face. After a moment, he whispered, "I want to see you at your most beautiful."
Yue Wuhuan was taken aback, touching his own face, clearly puzzled.
"On the path of cultivation, one's body improves along with their spiritual progress," Song Qingshi explained after a brief pause, "You're only at the Foundation Stage now. I look forward to seeing you at the Core Formation Stage, Nascent Soul Stage... or even higher. You'll surely become the most beautiful person in the universe."
The Lord has actually learned to make jokes, but sadly, he's quite bad at it—far too exaggerated.
Yue Wuhuan didn't dampen his enthusiasm for joking and played along, laughing a few times.
Song Qingshi also laughed. Suddenly, he stood up, leaned in, and kissed Yue Wuhuan. The kiss was passionate and a bit explorative, their tongues barely touching before he pulled away.
Yue Wuhuan was dumbfounded by the kiss.
"You once said that as long as I like it, I could kiss you every day," Song Qingshi licked his lips and asserted, "A promise is a promise! Cheaters are puppies!"
Yue Wuhuan tried to object, "My Lord, this isn't right. Didn't you say you wouldn't act rashly anymore?"
Song Qingshi tilted his head, thought for a moment, and logically countered, "I'm sober now, so it's not a rash act."
Yue Wuhuan sighed in resignation, "Why are you doing this?"
Song Qingshi closed the gap, countering, "I like it very much; don't you?"
Yue Wuhuan was left speechless, unable to lie that he didn't like it. Because he did—he enjoyed the irresistible sensation, wishing it would never end.
He thought about stepping back.
Song Qingshi kissed him again, his moist breath softly unlocking a hidden chamber in his heart. The subtle scent of medicinal herbs permeated between their lips, as if purifying all impurities. Despite the innocent clumsiness of the act, Yue Wuhuan found himself willingly disarmed, unable to resist such transcendent beauty. He quickly descended into the forbidden realm of his emotions.
"You like it," Song Qingshi breathed, pulling slightly away from his lips before meeting them once more, "I know you do."
"Qingshi, I can't," Yue Wuhuan uttered, lost in confusion.
"You said it was a game, so why be so anxious?" Song Qingshi questioned.
How could a foot that has crossed the line so easily retract its step?
Yue Wuhuan found himself hypnotically staring at Song Qingshi's pale pink lips, feeling his rationality being incessantly challenged to the point of collapse. He thought about fleeing, only to realize that both he and Song Qingshi were ensnared in this complex web from which there was no escape. They were pushed to the cliff's edge, teetering precariously with nowhere to retreat.
Even the most calculating person cannot strategize their own heart.
It seemed the Lord knew little of anything beyond kissing, nor did Yue Wuhuan understand those messy matters of intimacy.
The Path of Emotionlessness felt no difference.
If it was just a simple kiss, could he perhaps allow it?
Dizzied by the kiss, Yue Wuhuan's thoughts went awry. Tentatively, he asked, "My Lord, could we limit it to just kissing?"
"If Wuhuan likes it, then there's no problem!" Song Qingshi exclaimed, visibly delighted.
Yue Wuhuan felt a wave of relief wash over him. He bowed his head and began to savor the delectable pleasure he'd been craving day and night. His tousled hair curled around his fingertips, refusing to depart. His white robes were slightly disheveled, revealing a graceful neck reminiscent of a swan, its Adam's apple quivering with each breath. He was grateful that he'd ingested a potion to control his desires earlier, allowing him to enjoy this intense pleasure without disgrace. Such a potion might become a staple in his life.
Deep into the night, their whispers and breaths entwined for what felt like an eternity before finally ceasing.
Yue Wuhuan noticed that Song Qingshi had been tightly gripping his hand all along with no intention of letting go. Lying down at the edge of the bed, he extended his Blood King Vine to gently poke Song Qingshi's foot before coiling around it. Smiling, he asked, "My Lord, will there be a bedtime story tonight?"
"I forgot," Song Qingshi realized the oversight after a long pause, "Let's just talk."
"What would you like to talk about?" Yue Wuhuan inquired, curious.
Song Qingshi pointed at the Blood King Vine around his foot, "I want to know how you obtained it."
He had asked several times before, but each time, Yue Wu Huan had deflected the question, claiming he had acquired it by accident, unwilling to discuss the difficulties involved. Although he had hesitated to press the matter, today he was resolved to get the truth out of Yue Wu Huan.
Cornered and seeing no way out, Yue Wu Huan finally spoke the truth, "I obtained it at the Summit of Immortality."
"The Summit of Immortality?" Song Qing Shi sifted through his memory of ancient texts and quickly understood, "You mean the Flame Mountain in the Eastern Continent? I recall it's an Infernal Wasteland with not a single blade of grass or a bird in sight. Even the spiritual veins are invisible... The fire there is perilous, said to be capable of incinerating even souls. Did you go there to obtain Huo Ling Zhi?"
The only valuable thing in such a dreadful place would be Huo Ling Zhi.
Huo Ling Zhi is the primary ingredient for making Fen Xin Dan. It grows slowly and is rare in this world. It's also extremely beneficial for cultivators with fire or metal spiritual roots, making it a treasure of heaven and earth that provokes fierce competition whenever it appears.
Yue Wu Huan must have obtained news of the appearance of Huo Ling Zhi, perhaps wanting to refine Fen Xin Dan to strengthen his heart meridians.
"I failed," Yue Wu Huan seemed a bit helpless. Being only a Foundation Establishment cultivator, even if he relied on swordsmanship, poison talismans, and arrays, the odds of besting Golden Core and even Nascent Soul cultivators were slim. "I concealed my identity and infiltrated a group vying for the treasure. After laying traps and inciting internal strife among them, I did manage to obtain the Huo Ling Zhi, but then new treasure-seekers from the Sect of Desolation appeared. I couldn't retreat, they blocked my way, and asked me to hand over the Huo Ling Zhi, promising me a way out."
Song Qing Shi frowned slightly, asking, "Those from the Sect of Desolation are all ruthless. Would they really keep their word?"
"I knew they were lying. They would kill me after obtaining the Huo Ling Zhi, so the manner of my death didn't really matter," Yue Wu Huan couldn't help but smile, "I played them for fools and then tossed the Huo Ling Zhi into the flame sea of the Summit of Immortality. Master, their infuriated expressions were quite entertaining."
The invaluable Huo Ling Zhi was instantly consumed and destroyed by the ferocious flames.
The cultivators from the Sect of Desolation were so enraged that they wanted to rip Yue Wu Huan's soul out and torture it.
"Seeing that the situation was dire, I jumped into the Summit of Immortality myself," Yue Wu Huan chuckled.
His unexpected move disrupted all rhythms and plans.
Even in their fury, none of the cultivators dared to approach the deadly zone where both body and soul could be incinerated.
"The Summit of Immortality has peculiar air currents that can suck in flying objects, making sword flight impossible. Initially prepared to die, I was fortuitously swept up by the wind and blown into a crevice in the rock," Yue Wu Huan reminisced with a bitter smile. "There was no way out, and my fire-resistant robe and talismans were at their limits. I thought I would die, but then I found the soul of the Blood King Vine. I took the risk and fused with it, using the vine to climb out."
After listening, Song Qing Shi pondered, "Luck?"
"Perhaps," Yue Wu Huan considered, "ever since I obtained the Blood King Vine, my luck has normalized. That suffocating feeling of being oppressed by fate is gone." The only exception was perhaps during the confrontation with An Long, where destiny seemed to intervene once more.
Song Qing Shi smiled, "That's a rather perilous opportunity."
"It's all in the past now," Yue Wu Huan chuckled.
Song Qing Shi took the Blood King Vine and started playing with it in the palm of his hand.
Was it truly a stroke of luck?