Chu Yue’s face was pushed to the side. He lowered his eyes, the shadowy look in them stark and raw. His tongue slowly passed over his lips.
When he turned back, he adjusted into a more obedient posture, kneeling on one knee beneath the throne. He looked up at Li Lanxiu. “If I win first place in the sect tournament, would that count as good performance in your eyes, Young Master?”
Li Lanxiu leaned back against the cushioned couch, his long legs loosely crossed. “Of course it would.”
Chu Yue stared at him without blinking. He moved a step forward on his knees, nearly touching the tip of Li Lanxiu’s suspended boot. “Then would I be your only one?”
Li Lanxiu propped up his chin with one hand, gazing at him with a thoughtful look. The suspended tip of his boot was a spotless white. He shifted it slightly, letting it slide casually between Chu Yue’s knees. With the slow motion of his foot, the toe of the boot moved up and down against Chu Yue’s dark robe, brushing against something as if by accident…
Chu Yue’s back suddenly tensed. He moved one hand behind him and clenched it into a fist, forcing down the urge that surged up.
“That depends on whether you behave,” Li Lanxiu replied vaguely.
Chu Yue’s breath was uneven. He edged forward on his knees, and the boot tip pressed right against something delicate and unspeakable. “I’ll do whatever you say, Young Master.”
A flicker of mischief flashed through Li Lanxiu’s eyes. He rocked his foot slightly, the boot pressing down then pulling away. He asked with a soft laugh, “Just how obedient can you be?”
“Young Master—”
Chu Yue suddenly stopped. He looked up at him, eyes dark and unfathomable. His Adam’s apple bobbed visibly as he spoke, voice rough and low. “Don’t do this.”
Li Lanxiu tilted his head, watching his expression with amusement. “Hm? Don’t do what?”
Chu Yue took a deep breath, trying to stay composed. He said quietly, “Don’t treat me like this.”
Li Lanxiu once again pressed down lightly, then withdrew, his voice dropping to a gentle, seductive murmur. “Have I not treated you well?”
Caught off guard, Chu Yue bent forward sharply, head lowered, breathing quick and heavy as he struggled to hide the reaction in his body he could no longer suppress.
Li Lanxiu looked down at the top of his head and retracted the foot that had been toying with him. His tone turned cold. “Sit up straight.”
Chu Yue braced one hand on the floor, fist clenched so tightly that the veins on the back of his hand and wrist bulged with tension. A sheen of sweat appeared at his temple. What he was suppressing wasn’t just his body’s response—it was something else.
“You just said you’d obey me,” Li Lanxiu said with a soft snort, toying with him with effortless ease. “Do you still want to be my only one?”
A storm surged in Chu Yue’s eyes. His clenched fist slowly loosened. He straightened up bit by bit, gaze dark and fathomless as it fixed on Li Lanxiu.
Li Lanxiu took in the obvious outline beneath the folds of his dark robe, the shape impossible to miss. Chin lifting slightly, he let out a light laugh. “Lift your robe. Let me see.”
This time, Chu Yue didn’t hesitate. He raised one corner of his robe with one hand, his gaze growing even darker. What was revealed as the fabric lifted was unexpected.
Li Lanxiu was delighted. He broke into laughter, shoulders shaking as he slumped into the brocade couch, eyes narrowed to glistening crescents. Pointing at Chu Yue with a single finger, he chuckled, “Good boy! So obedient!”
He had only meant to test whether Chu Yue would really follow orders—gone along with it on a whim. He hadn’t expected him to actually obey to this extent.
To have complete control over the so-called Heaven’s Chosen One—was there anything more exhilarating?
Pleased, he sat up and took Chu Yue’s face in both hands, asking magnanimously, “What do you want as a reward?”
Chu Yue’s eyes slid from his cold mask to the pale, delicate curve of his neck. Under the flickering lamplight, his skin had the soft glow of polished amber, smooth and luminous.
Just below the chin, at the tenderest spot, there was a small red mark, like a smear of rouge that hadn’t fully faded.
Chu Yue stared straight at that scarlet patch, Adam’s apple bobbing subtly—then lifted his gaze with a harmless smile. “I only want to be your one and only, Young Master.”
Li Lanxiu avoided the subject. He pinched Chu Yue’s nose bridge and gave him a once-over. “Go find a place to handle yourself. The people from Cloudwater Hall are still waiting for you.”
Chu Yue lowered his eyes slightly. He stood and nodded. “Understood, Young Master.”
Beneath the moonlight, the waterside pavilion lay quiet. The steward from Cloudwater Hall had waited in the courtyard for quite some time.
Elder Shen had instructed them to keep an eye on Chu Yue, so he could focus on cultivation without distraction. But Elder Shen had also said that if Chu Yue truly wished to leave Cloudwater Hall, they shouldn’t force him to stay.
The steward turned a blind eye. As long as Chu Yue didn’t leave through the main gate, he pretended not to see him.
Chu Yue stepped into the courtyard, dressed in an ink-black robe with a dark blade slung at his waist. His aura was cold and austere. He cast a glance at the steward and strode toward the hall.
The steward followed and said, “Chu-shidi, Elder Shen assigned a few shixiong skilled in bladework to practice with you. You should get to know them.”
Chu Yue halted and glanced at the men in the waterside pavilion. “No need.”
“Are you looking down on us, Chu-shidi?” one of the shixiong spoke up. He stepped out from the pavilion, carrying a blade that gleamed with cold light.
“What are you saying? Chu-shidi, I’m willing to practice with you. I’ll share everything I know, holding nothing back!”
Several of them walked out of the pavilion and gathered around Chu Yue.
The steward tried to pat Chu Yue on the shoulder but missed. He laughed awkwardly and rubbed his hands. “These shixiong are all in the Golden Core stage, same as you. They’re all sword cultivators too, and more experienced. You’ll have plenty of chances to spar in the future.”
Chu Yue looked them over, shook his head and still said, “No need.”
The shixiong exchanged glances. None of them looked pleased.
One of the shixiong spoke with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “We know you’re impressive, Chu-shidi, but you’re still young. We’ve been training in sword techniques for decades. In this area, we can still offer you some guidance.”
“Best not to, really. I don’t want to spar with you. You’ve got the Immaculate Spiritual Physique—if I take off an arm or a leg with one strike, how am I supposed to explain that to Elder Shen?”
“Exactly. If it weren’t for Elder Shen’s orders, none of us would’ve agreed to spar with you.”
The steward gave a strained smile as he explained, “Please don’t take offense, Chu-shidi. You’re young and incredibly gifted, but you really should train with your shixiong more.”
Chu Yue glanced over them again, walked to the open space in the courtyard and gave a small nod to one of the shixiong. “Alright.”
The group laughed in unison. He had chosen the oldest of them, the one whose sword technique was the most refined.
That shixiong drew his sword, but made no move to strike first, twirling the weapon in his hand. “Chu-shidi, after you.”
Chu Yue clasped his hilt behind his back, then let go and slid his hand down to the scabbard. He drew his blade and flicked it casually.
The scabbard lightly tapped the shixiong’s shoulder. That shixiong had been burning with anger upon seeing Chu Yue draw but not unsheathe his blade. The tap surprised him.
His knees gave out at once. He collapsed to the ground, unable to stop himself. His kneecaps smashed into the stone tiles, which cracked instantly. Sweat poured down his face.
The shixiong forced himself to look up. His gaze met Chu Yue’s indifferent eyes, and his heart trembled.
What terrifying power—how could someone so effortlessly render him defenseless?
The other shixiong stared in shock. They looked at one another. Chu Yue’s strike had been fast, but not impossibly fast. What had truly overwhelmed that shixiong wasn’t speed—it was strength. Fierce, overwhelming, crushing strength.
None of them knew the power came from the true-intent jade slips in the black jiao lord’s cavern. They only felt a chill spread through their bodies and silently thanked the stars that they hadn’t been the one chosen.
Chu Yue neatly re-sheathed his blade and walked past the steward. “No need,” he said.
With that, he headed straight for his room, leaving behind a group of shixiong and shidi wearing complicated expressions.
The kneeling shixiong collapsed facedown, his face pale as he muttered, “That kind of talent… that kind of strength…”
The steward looked at the cracked stone tiles and let out a sigh. “I thought you all would be evenly matched. Didn’t expect you to go down in a single move.”
“If I had that kind of talent and that kind of strength, would I be the one kneeling?” the shixiong said with a bitter laugh, cradling his face.
Chu Yue paused at the doorway, then walked on.
The cultivation market under the Four Seas Commerce Guild bustled with cultivators coming and going. It was loud and lively, a scene of prosperity.
Li Lanxiu had received a message from the market master. There was a buyer interested in the five-hundred-year-old yao core in his hand. The buyer had been seeking a core from a high-grade yao for years and was set to arrive today to collect it. The market master invited him over to see if the buyer suited him.
As soon as he stepped into the main hall, the market master greeted him with a beaming smile. “Young Master Li, the buyer hasn’t arrived yet. It’s crowded and noisy here. Why don’t you wait in a private room?”
Li Lanxiu swept his eyes over the spacious hall and asked casually, “Got any Hundred-Flower Brew?”
“We do. It’s reserved specially for you, Young Master Li.” The market master nodded. “Shall I send it to your room?”
Li Lanxiu raised a brow and walked forward. “No need. Have him meet me at the gambling den.”
Back when Gu Zhengxing was alive, he had been a rising star of the world’s foremost Dao sect. He lived up to his name: righteous, firm, a gentleman of unwavering moral standards. He probably never set foot in places like this.
Now that he was dead and a ghost king—half mad, half lucid—he had even less of a chance to.
The market master led him only a short way before the din of the cultivation market grew louder.
Dice clattered wildly inside a cup. Spirit stones smacked crisply against tabletops. Voices shouted “big” or “small,” mixed with cheers and groans, loud enough to make one’s head throb.
The center of the hall was filled with gambling tables. Cultivators crowded around, eyes locked on the dealer’s hand as the dice cup swayed.
“Open!”
With a shout, the dealer flipped the cup. Three dice tumbled out onto the table.
Shrieks of despair tangled with wild laughter. Faces twisted in the firelight, contorted by either joy or fury.
On the other side of the hall were tables for spirit stone betting, spirit beast fights and magical artifact auctions—each more thrilling than the last.
Every table was packed with people. The place pulsed with noise and energy.
The innkeeper smiled and asked, “Which game would Young Master Li like to play?”
Li Lanxiu grabbed a cultivator by the collar and yanked him away from the gambling table. The cultivator had just opened his mouth to curse when he froze at the sight of the ghost mask on Li Lanxiu’s face.
“Scram.” Li Lanxiu spat out a single word. He sat down in front of the dice game table and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his hands.
That cultivator had been sitting between two brightly-dressed beauties, arm in arm, thoroughly enjoying himself.
In a place as chaotic as a gambling den, there was naturally also a brothel.
The two women turned pale with fright. They jumped up to run, but Li Lanxiu took out spirit stones from his storage pouch. He held one in each hand. “You place the bets. If you lose, it’s on me. If you win, it’s yours.”
Was there really such a good deal in the world?
The two women immediately sat back down.
The innkeeper waited in the guild hall of the cultivation market for a long time before the buyer of the yao core finally arrived. The young man had a slender, upright figure. He wore a black gauze veil over his hat, hiding his face. Under the blazing sun, he held a strange red umbrella.
The innkeeper hadn’t even noticed when the man approached. He only heard a clear, proper voice behind him ask, “Where is the five-hundred-year yao core?”
A chill ran down the innkeeper’s spine as he turned around. “You received the guild’s message?”
Gu Zhengxing said nothing. He took out the Four Seas Commerce Guild’s token from his ghost-faced ring.
The innkeeper glanced at it and nodded. He smiled and said, “The yao core is with Young Master Li. He wants to see if the buyer is to his liking before he decides whether to sell.”
There were thousands upon thousands of young masters surnamed Li in this world.
Gu Zhengxing said softly, “That’s reasonable.”
Anyone capable of killing a five-hundred-year-old yao would surely be a powerful cultivator in the human realm. Wanting to see who took the yao core, to make sure it didn’t fall into evil hands, was only natural.
The shopkeeper raised a hand to lead him. “Come with me. Young Master Li has been waiting for some time.”
Gu Zhengxing heard the sharp clatter of dice. He frowned and suddenly stopped. “A gambling hall?”
“Yes, Young Master Li is inside waiting for you,” said the shopkeeper.
Gu Zhengxing lifted a hand to press down the veil hat over his head. He said calmly, “Keep going.”
His spiritual sense picked up on several cultivators of decent cultivation within the gambling hall. After stepping inside, he swiftly glanced over them one by one.
They were all cultivators lost in indulgence and debauchery, with dissolute looks on their faces—none of them seemed like the person he was looking for.
The shopkeeper pointed toward the liveliest gambling table ahead. “The one in red is Young Master Li.”
Ahead sat a single man in red. He sat alone at the table. One long leg rested half-bent against the table edge. He draped his arm lazily over his knee, his posture relaxed and rakish.
His loose robe gaped slightly, revealing a pale, slender neck. Peacock feathers threaded through his black hair shimmered faintly under the light.
He wore a ghastly, ghost-like mask and idly toyed with several high-grade spirit stones. It was rare to see high-grade spirit stones in a gambling den. Many cultivators stared at them longingly.
A lovely young woman pouted miserably and said in a sweet voice, “Young Master, I’ve got terrible luck. Aren’t you an immortal? Use some magic to help me win a round!”
That Young Master Li chuckled and reached out a hand to her. “Come, give me your hand.”
The young woman placed her hand in his. With his other hand, he pushed the mask aside from his chin, revealing only his jaw and lips. The sharp corners of his mouth curled slightly, carrying a hint of frivolous mockery.
He lowered his head and casually blew a breath over the girl’s hand. “Go on. It’s done.”
Gu Zhengxing took half a step back. He frowned slightly, clearly disgusted by everything around him.
Comments
Post a Comment