The Valley of Medicine sparked a learning frenzy.
Song Qingshi had three banners custom-made for the academy. The one on the left read: "Study Hard, Make Progress Every Day." On the right: "Success Comes from Persistence; Dedication Creates Miracles." The center one declared: "Compassion and Skill, Saving Lives and Healing the Injured."
Qingluan felt overwhelmed by the relentless stream of study materials. Ten out of the twelve daily hours were spent in reading and solving problems. Even with her staunch loyalty, it was becoming too much. Yet, a single glance at Yue Wuhuan's enigmatic, half-smiling expression convinced her that she could manage. After all, it was better than toiling in a penal institution.
She was so swamped that she had no time to oversee others, leaving the children to self-study.
Rong Ye finally found an opportunity to shine. Whenever the Lord visited the academy to inspect their progress, he would seize the chance to strike up a conversation, aiming to delight the Lord. With his naturally charming appearance, flamboyant style, and knack for telling jokes—both wholesome and bawdy—Rong Ye never failed to elicit hearty laughter, livening up the atmosphere.
Song Qingshi didn't quite catch the humor but smiled nonetheless, not wanting to feel out of place.
He didn't mind the jovial study environment or the cheerful disposition of the students. What he didn't appreciate was Rong Ye's fragrant sachet, filled with a strong scent of deer grass. Although not harmful, its potent aroma could stir emotions. With so many youthful students around, such scents could lead to premature romantic feelings, which would ultimately distract from their studies.
Come to think of it, there seemed to be a peculiar medicinal scent emanating from Yue Wuhuan as well.
Since his injuries from the poisonous insects had healed, why would he still need medication?
Song Qingshi sank into contemplation.
Seeing him lost in thought, Rong Ye boldly tugged at his sleeve and whispered, "My Lord, there are some problems I don't understand. Could you explain them to me? Like how you explain things to Elder Yue Wuhuan in your chambers?"
"No," Song Qingshi thought about the intellectual gap between Yue Wuhuan and Rong Ye, and tactfully advised, "What he understands, you do not."
Rong Ye grinned sweetly, "Lack of experience aside, what he knows, I can learn."
He had heard plenty of racy jokes in his youth and knew various tricks to please men, lacking only in practical experience. His agile body and unabashed nature made him confident that whatever techniques Yue Wuhuan used to serve their Lord, he could master. After all, what's the big deal about bedroom affairs?
After pondering for a moment, Song Qingshi decided to give the eager student a chance and handed him a set of advanced math problems, "Try to solve these first. If you encounter difficulties, I'll have Wuhuan explain it to you."
Holding the problem set, Rong Ye was completely stupefied.
Minghong glanced over and exclaimed, "Elder Wuhuan does such difficult problems every night?"
Song Qingshi boasted, "Oh, these are from a while back. The problems he works on now are far more challenging."
Minghong nodded in understanding, "With so many problems, how could he possibly finish them all? No wonder he spends every night in Fuling Palace doing homework."
Song Qingshi encouraged, "Wuhuan is very diligent. You should all strive hard! You'll eventually get it!"
Rong Ye felt disoriented by all of this, and he began to question his own reasoning. Did he have to solve a question set to earn a place in the Master's bed? Could he only serve the Master after performing satisfactorily? Or did he need to study and serve diligently at the same time? This seemed exhausting. Bizarre images filled his mind, making him shake his head quickly to dispel them.
The Master appeared gentle and good-natured, but it seemed very challenging to please him intimately.
Immortal Yue Wu Huan truly had a difficult task.
After some thought, Rong Ye picked up the question set and started to study diligently. He would not give up! If Immortal Yue Wu Huan could do it, then he would too!
Song Qing Shi looked around at the studious atmosphere and felt quite satisfied.
...
Research on the Black Death Butterfly was ongoing, and so were the failures.
Yue Wu Huan lifted his head from a pile of papers and wrinkled his brows. He detected the scent of deer-grass on Song Qing Shi, a fragrance solely intended for slowly arousing male desire and enhancing intimate encounters. This aroma pervaded the Jin Feng Mountain Manor, albeit with more precious ingredients and sophisticated blending techniques.
Who would dare to use such unsavory substances in the sanctity of Medicine King Valley?
Yue Wu Huan held his breath, feeling as if the purity of his inner world was being contaminated. Unbearable. He pondered for a moment and quickly surmised the origin of the fragrance, struggling to control a surge of homicidal thoughts.
Qing Luan had once begged earnestly, saying that Rong Ye was young and innocent, imploring him to show mercy.
He had restrained himself for several days, only to discover that the fellow was even bolder and more audacious than he had thought.
Young?
At his age, boys in the Jin Feng Mountain Manor had already learned to please men, enduring the tortures of a dark hell.
Innocent?
What sort of innocent person would know of such a vulgar fragrance, let alone how to subtly apply it to provoke others?
The more Yue Wu Huan understood, the angrier he became.
Song Qing Shi noticed something off about his aura, "Wu Huan, what's wrong?"
Yue Wu Huan took a moment to regain his composure and smiled, "Master, there's a strange scent on you that's bothering me."
Song Qing Shi took a sniff, suspecting he might have come into contact with some foul-smelling medicinal ingredients. Aware of Yue Wu Huan's sensitivity to smells, he quickly cast a few cleansing spells on himself and went to take a bath.
Yue Wu Huan extended a few tendrils of the Blood King Vine to tidy up the lab equipment, the smile on his lips growing ever so gentle.
If Qing Luan couldn't manage this person, then he would take matters into his own hands.
...
Having finished solving the questions in his room, Rong Ye began to think about his attire. Immortal Yue Wu Huan's golden red brocade robe was stunning: tailored to fit and utterly striking wherever he went. In contrast, Rong Ye had to settle for the plain, loose-fitting blue robe provided by Medicine King Valley. He considered hiring a seamstress to adjust it for him—tightening the waist, widening the belt, and enlarging the neckline to subtly reveal his collarbone, thereby highlighting his superior figure.
He thought about intensifying the scent of deer grass in his sachet, as the courtesans had taught him that this fragrance could arouse men's desires. He had tested it by placing it beside his bed and experienced vivid dreams for two days. Regrettably, he dreamt of He Qing Yun, a simpleton, rather than the Master, which jolted him awake. He planned to prepare another sachet later to tease Ming Hong, a timid soul, and deter him from acting so meekly in front of Qing Luan.
Rong Ye held up the robe in front of the mirror and was startled to see a golden feathered mask appear in the reflection.
Whirling around, he found Yue Wu Huan leaning against the doorway, arms folded, observing him.
Relieved, Rong Ye respectfully bowed his head.
Yue Wu Huan smiled slightly, "Qing Luan mentioned you are skilled with your hands. Do you enjoy mechanical arts?"
Confused by the question, Rong Ye nodded, "Yes."
"Tian Gong Pavilion is currently taking on apprentices. They don't discriminate based on background as long as you're skilled," Yue Wu Huan said considerately. "Medicine King Valley and Tian Gong Pavilion have business relations. I've spoken with the Pavilion Master. You could go there to learn and not waste your talents."
Rong Ye's face paled. While he enjoyed crafting small gadgets, he had no desire to become an artisan. The craftsmen he had encountered in the pleasure houses were poor, uncouth, and unkempt. His peers looked down on them, reluctant to serve them.
Even in the world of cultivation, artisans are still artisans—they do hard labor.
If he ended up there, his good looks would be ruined within a couple of years.
Noticing the smile at the corner of Yue Wu Huan's lips, Rong Ye understood instantly. It seemed that Yue Wu Huan had recognized his ambitious intentions and was planning to nip them in the bud. Although Yue Wu Huan had the Master's favor while he had none, Rong Ye was powerless to retaliate.
He considered attempting to act coy and innocent, but how could a fledgling fox like him fool a thousand-year-old fox spirit?
Frustrated to the point of tears, Rong Ye exclaimed, "By what right do you act so domineeringly? Why bully me?"
Yue Wu Huan turned away, coldly stating, "Medicine King Valley has no place for those with impure motives."
"Impure?" Overwhelmed by despair, Rong Ye retorted, "How pure are you? You're also of mortal origin. You only had the opportunity for rapid advancement because the Master was charmed by your looks!"
Yue Wu Huan turned back to face him, his gaze calm and steady.
Qing Luan had feared his intensity and avoided letting him interact with the apprentices, never revealing any inside information. His always decorous conduct meant that he rarely punished people openly. Had these misconceptions led the young ones to mistakenly view him as a docile lamb?
Rong Ye retorted without a filter, "Having served so many men, what right do you have to find others dirty?"
Yue Wuhuan thought for a moment, then asked softly, "You want to serve men?"
Rong Ye, a little frightened but putting up a brave front, retorted, "What's wrong with serving cultivators? Pleasing them yields not only medicines and magical items but also teachings on immortal techniques! That's far better than being a mere mortal. I want to serve formidable men!"
Yue Wuhuan smiled faintly and took out a pair of gloves made of dual-ice silk, slowly putting them on.
An eerie aroma permeated the air. Rong Ye suddenly felt dizzy, his body devoid of strength. Struggling to lift his head, he found Yue Wuhuan's face blurring before his eyes. Immediately after, he felt his hair violently grabbed, pulling him directly in front of Yue Wuhuan.
His raven-black hair was a mess, and his attractive, peach-blossom eyes were filled with fear.
Yue Wuhuan lifted his face, examined him briefly, and then spoke in a voice that seemed to emanate from hell itself, "I'll teach you how to serve men."
Rong Ye finally realized he'd provoked something he shouldn't have. He wanted to flee but found himself immobilized.
His clothes were ripped open, and he felt a burning sensation on his back as if something was being branded into him.
He lost control of his body; his mind sunk into oblivion.
When he woke again, he found his limbs bound by chains and suspended in the air, completely naked. A multitude of greedy eyes were watching him, followed by disgusting hands that ravished his body. He wanted to scream, to keep them away, but the words that escaped his lips were indecent.
He never knew such acts could be so painful.
There was no pity, no gentleness, only horrifying manipulation.
Despite his desperate struggles and pleas, all he received were laughter and even harsher treatment.
The torment in the darkness seemed endless.
He endured the most humiliating and disgusting acts imaginable.
At last, he woke up, sobbing uncontrollably.
The air was faintly scented; there were no terrifying men, no nauseating events.
Rong Ye discovered that he was clean, the pain had disappeared, and the revolting feelings had slowly faded. His clothes were soaked in cold sweat, clinging to his body. He looked up in terror to find himself in a chilly dungeon. The scent of blood lingered in the air, although no terrifying torture instruments were visible. Yue Wuhuan was sitting at a table, reading a book quietly under the candlelight. Next to him was a copper incense burner with a burnt-out stick of incense. The eerie fragrance had emanated from there, with two more unlit sticks beside it.
Seeing him awake, Yue Wuhuan reached out and picked up the second stick of incense from the table.
Though Rong Ye didn't understand what the incense was, he sensed that the horrifying illusions originated from it. No longer able to put on a brave front, he fell to his knees, begging profusely, "Immortal Master Wu Huan, I was wrong. I shouldn't have spoken ill of you!"
Yue Wu Huan looked at him for a moment, then shook his head without a trace of mercy.
"No! I was truly wrong!" Rong Ye cried out in despair.
The second stick of incense was lit, and the eerie fragrance filled the air once more—deeper, more potent.
Rong Ye again plummeted into a hell of ceaseless agony, subjected to various forms of torture, without an end to the suffering.
Each time he thought he'd reached the apex of pain, a greater pain was always waiting.
When he finally awoke from the nightmare, he was on the verge of a mental breakdown, sitting dully on the floor, struggling to remember if he was human or beast. After what felt like an eternity, the realization that his body was unharmed brought him immense relief, slowly restoring his human sensibilities and the ability to speak.
Rong Ye lifted his head and despairingly saw Yue Wu Huan picking up the third stick of incense.
He would lose his sanity in hell before dying.
"Spare me, spare me..." Rong Ye finally understood the demon's murderous intent. He crawled backward, but tendrils of Blood King Vines formed an inescapable cage, binding him. He realized too late the severity of his foolish acts and the terrifying person he had offended. Just as the fateful incense stick was about to be lit, a flash of inspiration struck him. He screamed, "I swear never to harbor any intentions towards the Sovereign again!"
Finally, the incense stick destined to send him to hell was paused.
Yue Wu Huan looked at him quietly and asked again, "Do you still want to serve men?"
"No! No more!" Rong Ye, reminded of the terrifying nightmares, screamed and curled up in the darkness, pleading continually, "I was wrong. I no longer wish to serve men!"
Yue Wu Huan held the incense stick, lightly rubbing his temple, glancing at the door as if hesitating.
Life and death hung in the balance.
Rong Ye stayed curled in the darkness, crying for a long time.
He finally remembered seeing courtesans beaten until they were bruised and battered, the young attendants carried out on broken mats, and the black eye of his own mother. He had only remembered the grandeur, the sumptuous feasts, the jewelry, and the beautiful people who bought their freedom. Yet he had forgotten many horrifying things, many tragic endings.
How could he have been so foolish?
Rong Ye wailed uncontrollably, repeating over and over, "I was wrong, I truly was wrong."
Yue Wu Huan finally made a decision.
The Blood King Vines loosened, and the door to the torture chamber swung open.
Qing Luan was already standing at the door, crying uncontrollably.
Seeing this vulnerable figure, Rong Ye felt as if he'd found safe harbor. Sobbing, he said, "Sister Qing Luan..."
Qing Luan descended the steps to stand in front of Yue Wu Huan and bowed deeply, "Thank you."
She knew the severity of the taboo Rong Ye had violated with his foolish act. She tried everything, even using the Sovereign's potential displeasure as a pretext, to get Rong Ye an opportunity at Tian Gong Ge (the Skywork Pavilion). But then she heard his recklessly defiant words. Nearly despairing, she watched as Rong Ye, unconscious, was dragged into the dungeon by tendrils of Blood King Vines. Her heart felt like it was about to stop from fear.
Yue Wu Huan had a psychological condition that rendered him incapable of feeling other people's pain or understanding mercy.
Those who had previously entered the dungeon had either died or gone mad, without exception...
Knowing what awaited Rong Ye, Qing Luan couldn't bear to watch.
She blocked Yue Wu Huan's path and begged earnestly—pleading, kneeling, and crying.
Yue Wu Huan asked her, puzzled, "Why do you plead?"
With tear-filled eyes, Qing Luan said, "Rong Ye is not that bad..."
Yue Wu Huan responded, "He made a mistake."
Qing Luan persisted, "Mistakes can be corrected."
Yue Wu Huan pondered for a long, long time without replying.
In the end, he used the Blood King Vines to escort Qing Luan out of the dungeon, sealing the door behind her.
Desperate, Qing Luan banged on the door, her cries of heartbreak mixing with the faint wails and pleas coming from inside.
Yue Wu Huan had spared Rong Ye, neither destroying his life nor his sanity, nor using the truly horrifying punishments at his disposal.
Filled with newfound elation, Qing Luan held Rong Ye tightly, offering constant comfort.
"Considering your years of loyalty," Yue Wu Huan stood up, walking past them, and said coldly, "there won't be a next time."