Li Lanxiu’s hand holding the fan paused slightly. He studied Chu Yue’s face, the metal fan-tip drifting gently along the bridge of his nose and lips. His voice lowered into a lazy drawl. “You’re that greedy? Hm?”
Chu Yue’s lips parted slightly. The fan lingered at his mouth, like a silent kiss, urging him to consider his answer. His chest rose and fell visibly, his tongue parched. “I don’t know what greed is. I only know your eyes should hold no one but me.”
The moment those words fell, the fan struck down on his palm.
Agonizing pain shot through him. Chu Yue tensed but didn’t move. His hand, streaked with dark red blood, instead lifted upward. “If that will earn me punishment, I accept it willingly.”
Li Lanxiu raised the fan high and turned to face his audience, letting out a quiet sneer. “I’m punishing him for defying his master. With a disobedient slave like this—don’t you all agree he deserves a beating?”
Chu Yue cast a glance in the same direction. He sensed the presence of spiritual energy. Turning back, he said in a low voice, “Young Master, stop playing with me.”
“I’m not playing with you,” Li Lanxiu replied lightly—then followed it with a voice-transmitted whisper, cold as ice: “Bear with it. If you end up like last time, you’ll only disgrace yourself.”
Chu Yue’s hands on his knees clenched too tightly, the knuckles stark white. His clothes were in disarray now, half-naked as he knelt, face smeared with cinnabar in red and white, eyes covered by a hairband—he was a mess, an indecent sight. If the rest of the sect saw him like this...
Who wouldn’t guess at his feelings for Li Lanxiu?
He raised a hand to remove the blindfold—but the fan struck his hand again before he could.
“Don’t move,” Li Lanxiu warned, voice cold.
A pause. Then more gently: “Be good.”
Chu Yue’s heart gave a jolt. He steadily lifted his arm. “Young Master, please punish me.”
Smack— A sharp crack rang out. The cold iron fan struck his palm again, cruel and merciless, yet Li Lanxiu asked softly, “Does it hurt?”
Blood welled from Chu Yue’s palm. He gritted his teeth and gave a small shake of his head.
Li Lanxiu raised the fan again, quietly watching him.
Chu Yue, after a long silence without the next strike, raised his eyes toward him. In the darkness, his other senses sharpened. The cool, fragrant scent was inches away. The sole of Li Lanxiu’s boot, resting on his thigh, was surprisingly gentle.
He hardly used any strength when he was stepping on him. Chu Yue could touch the soft ribbons of silk by his boot with the hand he had on his thigh. If he moved it another inch, he could completely grasp his slender heel.
Li Lanxiu put a little more force into his foot as he stepped on Chu Yue’s thigh. His fan lighted on Chu Yue’s palm as softly as the wings of a butterfly. He continued to softly say, “Does it hurt?”
Chu Yue’s palm was itchy and numb from the stabbing pain. It felt worse than being whipped. But he hoarsely replied, “No.”
Li Lanxiu hit his palm with the fan again, and once he hit him, he asked, “How many times has it been? Did you count?”
“Four times,” Chu Yue replied after a little thought.
Li Lanxiu laughed lightly. “Okay, then I’ll hit you twenty times. There’s no need to count.”
He wasn’t compassionate. In the following minutes, no matter whether his Coldiron Fan landed heavily or feather-lightly on Chu Yue’s palm, every time he hit him, he would gently ask, “Does it hurt?”
It was as if as long as Chu Yue said it hurt, he would immediately stop and tenderly blow air over his palm, showing pity for the hand he had hit until the skin split.
But in fact, he would do no such thing.
Chu Yue knew this clearly, but his gentle words still warmed him until his ears felt hot. His breathing grew faster and faster, and the hairband over his eyes grew damp from the sweat flowing from his forehead. A surging, pathological fire whirled through his body. He did his best to suppress his arousal, but he couldn’t stop his body’s instinctive reaction.
“Does it hurt?” These three words seemed like a reward that Li Lanxiu bestowed him after the pain.
Chu Yue’s irrepressible lust surged. He realized that his body’s clear reaction was being publicly displayed, viewed by an audience, and debated over by the members of the sect.
He didn’t care that his body’s secret reaction was being observed. What he cared about was that Li Lanxiu was the one who had inspired his reaction. This was the secret that he could tell no one. How could he display it in front of everyone, becoming a strange entertainment for other people?
A sense of shame mingled with another subtle feeling, a pleasant sensation that made his tense temples tingle. His body's intense reaction was even more pronounced than the last time in the spiritual spring pool.
Li Lanxiu finished his last strike with the fan. His fingers landed in Chu Yue's palm. His smooth, translucent pink fingernails ran over the red, swollen flesh, leisurely circling the bleeding palm. "Does it hurt?"
Chu Yue gripped his fingers. His voice hoarse, he said, "That's enough…"
Li Lanxiu pulled away his fingers and retreated a few steps. He chuckled softly. "How did you turn into this? Does getting your palm beaten feel so good?"
Chu Yue knelt on his other knee. Without the robes to cover him, a clear curve was exposed. He silently stared in Li Lanxiu's direction. Li Lanxiu sat back in his chair, put the fan on the table, and watched him with his arms crossed.
After a long time, Chu Yue suddenly tore off the hairband and looked in the direction where he had just felt spiritual energy. There was no heart-guarding mirror there, only a high-grade spirit stone on the side table.
Li Lanxiu reached out his hand and calmly said, "Come here."
Chu Yue got up with a complicated feeling, put on his robes, and walked to his side, tying his belt while staring at him.
Li Lanxiu raised his hand. With his other hand, he took out an ointment. "Give me your hand."
Chu Yue paused slightly, licked the corner of his mouth, and placed his battered, bleeding hand in Li Lanxiu's palm.
Li Lanxiu's fingertips gently wiped the bleeding wound on Chu Yue's palm. The skin where the ointment was applied healed immediately. He lowered his eyes, earnest and meticulous. "Are you still bothered now?"
Chu Yue felt Li Lanxiu's warm and delicate fingertips. He softly retorted, "Young Master wants to bestow slave marks upon others, so how can I not be bothered?"
Li Lanxiu released his hand and took out a handkerchief to wipe the ointment from his fingertips. "Don't you have anything else you want to ask?"
Chu Yue withdrew his hand. Only a faint bloodstain remained on his palm. "Are you happy that you toyed with me, Young Master?"
"I’m happy." Li Lanxiu readily agreed. Then he chuckled. "I would be even happier if I used a real heart-guarding mirror."
"Is that so?" Chu Yue tightened his fist, grasping the remaining pain. He feigned calm and asked, "Then why didn't Young Master use the real one?"
Li Lanxiu raised his dark eyes and looked at him. He said nonchalantly, "Because I cherish you. I wouldn't let others see you like that."
Chu Yue nodded slightly, a faint curve appearing at the corner of his mouth. He said indifferently, "So that's how it is."
The next morning.
Ming Changsheng waited outside Li Lanxiu’s room early in the morning. He didn’t need to think too much about the slave seal. Every word he had spoken to Chu Yue had come from the heart. Li Lanxiu had shown him great kindness. If he was willing to let him assist in resisting the Red Sect, that alone was enough.
Li Lanxiu quickly planted the slave seal on the side of his neck. A bright red mark appeared beneath Ming Changsheng’s throat, with the characters “Li Lanxiu” written upon it. From that moment on, he was Li Lanxiu’s contracted slave.
Ming Changsheng had no friends and no one to share the news with. Not long after stepping outside, he saw a figure in dark robes. With a warm smile, he stepped forward and said, “Xiongtai, were you waiting for me?”
Chu Yue glanced at the glaring mark on the side of his neck. After yesterday’s comforting, he knew exactly where he stood in Li Lanxiu’s heart, but he still found that mark an eyesore. “Yes, I was waiting for you.”
Ming Changsheng lowered his head a little awkwardly. “Thank you, Xiongtai. From now on, I’m the young master’s man, just like you. I hope you’ll look after me.”
Chu Yue stared at the slave mark. He raised a hand to touch the side of his own neck and didn’t challenge the words “just like you.” “Xiongtai, cover it with some cloth. Parading it around like this isn’t appropriate.”
Ming Changsheng looked at him in confusion and touched his mark. “I belong to the young master now. If others see this, they’ll know. What’s inappropriate about that?”
“Dreamsaint City is full of gossips. You may have willingly become the young master’s slave, but others don’t know that.” Chu Yue patted his shoulder earnestly and handed him a black cloth he had prepared in advance. “For the young master’s reputation, bear with it.”
Ming Changsheng paused slightly. He took the black cloth from him and looked at him gratefully. “I didn’t think of that. Thank you, Xiongtai.”
Chu Yue smiled calmly. “No need to be so formal. Just cover the mark.”
Ming Changsheng wrapped the black cloth around his neck. After tying it off, he frowned slightly. “If the young master sees it, will he misunderstand? Will he think I’m unwilling or ashamed to be his slave?”
Chu Yue stared at him for a few seconds. Was that what Li Lanxiu had thought at the time? He curved his lips into a clear smile. “Don’t worry. The young master won’t mind.”
***
Li Lanxiu declined City Lord Xu’s company and went alone to a small alley scented with exotic fragrances, recorded in the archives. Disciples of Sevenstar Tower only did business with those in the cultivation world.
The sale of information was the most valuable trade, and naturally, the fewer people who knew, the better.
He wore a mask exuding eerie ghostly energy. His clothes were luxurious, and his figure tall and well-proportioned. In Dreamsaint City, this appearance stood out.
Everyone knew who he was, so before he even reached the end of the alley, he heard an old woman shouting, “Flower cakes! Flower cakes! Fresh flower cakes for sale!”
This old woman dressed plainly, no different from any other elderly woman in the city. Her silver hair was tied back, a basket hung from her arm, and her face was utterly forgettable.
Li Lanxiu took out a spirit stone and handed it to her. “One flower cake.”
The old woman glanced at the spirit stone in his hand, quickly pocketed it and smiled. “What a pity. I just sold out. If it’s convenient, Young Master, could you come to my place for a bit?”
Li Lanxiu nodded and followed her deep into the alley. After several twists and turns, passing a few back doors, the path opened into a refined courtyard filled with pavilions, artificial hills and flowing water, full of charm.
Several disciples in Sevenstar Tower uniforms sat in a pavilion. From afar, Li Lanxiu already heard their conversation.
“This is nonsense! Someone questioned our beauty ranking again. I think they’ve all been intimidated by Jiang Jiusi!”
“Our list is honest and fair. Why should we include someone who hides behind a mask? Just because Jiang Jiusi seems mad and possessed?”
“We absolutely must not include him! Our beauty list is based on reason and evidence. If he always wears a mask, how can he convince anyone?”
“No one’s seen his real face, right? Maybe he’s just putting on a show. We’ve seen plenty of those tricks in the jianghu…”
Li Lanxiu stepped into the courtyard. The disciples froze at the sight of him. One of them reacted quickly and stood up. “Young Master Li, forgive us for not welcoming you properly! Please, take a seat!”
Li Lanxiu walked lightly up the steps and pushed the door open to enter the room without glancing at any of them. “Tell your shixiong in charge to come out. Business is here.”
The room was simply furnished, with a treasure shelf, a bookcase and a few antique chairs.
The disciples whispered to each other using sound transmission. One of them walked to the doorway and gently shook the bronze bell hanging on the frame. “Young Master Li, please wait a moment. Our steward will be here shortly.”
The steward of the Sevenstar Tower branch in Dreamsaint City looked like a middle-aged man. As soon as he saw Li Lanxiu, he burst into loud laughter. “Young Master Li! An honored guest! I’ve been waiting these past few days for you to arrive!”
Li Lanxiu raised an eyebrow and sat in a chair by the table, glancing around at the furnishings in the room.
The steward sat across from him. With a wave of his sleeve, the door closed automatically and a soundproof barrier formed. Smiling, he tapped his own head. “Our information is all up here. No jade slip or paper compares to the human brain.”
Li Lanxiu looked at him and spoke bluntly. “I want to buy information on the Red Sect’s presence in Dreamsaint City. How many spirit stones?”
The steward opened his mouth to speak, then looked at Li Lanxiu’s mask and smiled meaningfully. “Young Master Li, we do have that information. But while we charge others spirit stones, for you, we won’t take a single one.”
Li Lanxiu smiled lightly and answered without hesitation. “You want me to take off the mask.”
“Hahaha! Young Master Li is sharp indeed.” The steward gave a thumbs-up, then withdrew his smile and asked solemnly, “We’ve been waiting for you for this exact reason. Will you take the deal?”
Li Lanxiu lowered his head slightly in thought, then looked up and said, “You’ll have to tell me first whether the Red Sect’s information is even worth it.”
The steward stared at the mask on his face as if it were worth ten thousand spirit stones, then lowered his voice. “I’ll give you one piece first. The Red Sect’s leader—he’s dying. Right now, he’s searching the entire world for a woman with the yin-gathering vixen physique to dual cultivate with and extend his life.”
Li Lanxiu leaned back against the chair and gave a light scoff. “Is that so? And what does that have to do with me?”
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