Heart's Blood 09

The evening mist hung heavy as the Grand Sect Tournament drew to a close.

Li Lingchen had successfully entered the Inner Sect. He had absorbed the majority of the attention and glory of the competition; everyone was discussing him, his origins, and his talent. Even when Inner Sect disciples later challenged for the positions of true-lineage disciples, it failed to stir much interest.

The Inner Sect resided on Qiushi Peak. Unlike the austere architecture of the Outer Sect, the Inner Sect was filled with structures of marvelous and unique designs. Because the number of Inner Sect disciples was small, each could build their own hut or dwelling wherever they pleased. Moreover, those who entered the Inner Sect usually came from prominent families, and aside from a few ascetic monks, they never compromised on their creature comforts. Every piece of decor and furnishing within was exquisite and dazzling.

Li Lingchen had no money, so he chose a spot near the water to build his dwelling, the style of which was much the same as the one he had occupied in the Outer Sect.

The Inner Sect did not have the fixed daily curriculum of the Outer Sect; disciples were free to choose the lectures that interested them. The daring could also head to other spiritual peaks to observe various cultivators from a distance. Although there was no formal master-disciple arrangement, according to sect rules, all of Jiuchen was considered a place of learning. Even if one were to stop the Sect Leader on the road to ask for guidance, the Sect Leader would not take offense.

Over the next few months, Li Lingchen came into contact with many powerful cultivators he had never dared to imagine meeting before, and he found himself with quite a few peers he could converse with. Yet, he was not happy. He realized that Leng Fangxie had not appeared even once.

Had his master grown tired of him? But his master had sent a swordsmith to deliver a sword to him.

Jiang Jianyu had been impatient to make the trip. A renowned swordsmith, personally deigning to go to Qiushi Peak to deliver a blade? Do not joke. She did not even hold the masters of individual peaks in high regard, let alone a novice disciple who had just entered the path.

The one she sent to deliver the sword was a Fire Elemental, a creature of volatile temper who looked down upon Li Lingchen. When Li Lingchen took the sword, his hair was nearly singed by the flames. Far from offering an apology, the Fire Elemental used the raging fire to gesture a sign of contempt.

His peers laughed at his rare moment of disheveled embarrassment, then consoled him: "Senior Jiang was given a troublesome task by the Dao Integration Hall and has to be away for several months. She’s in a foul mood; the swordsmiths near her have all been beaten black and blue. It wasn’t targeted specifically at you."

Not targeted?

Why did Li Lingchen feel that the Fire Elemental had come to find him specifically to vent its frustration?

But that was merely a small interlude. Once the moment of annoyance passed, Li Lingchen returned to worrying about Leng Fangxie.

Though it sounded strange for a disciple of such low cultivation to worry about a high-and-mighty Nascent Soul Dao Lord, he felt in his bones that something had happened to his master.

The sword his master had forged for him was excellent—it felt like an extension of his own hand, a blade that had been his by nature. Yet, Li Lingchen had no heart to touch it.

After failing to see Leng Fangxie, he tried to contact him via his jade pendant. Previously, he could occasionally receive a word or two in response, but lately, there was total silence. Added to the fact that Leng Fangxie had not been seen since returning to Sword Peak after the tournament, and there was no news of him within the sect, the worry in Li Lingchen’s heart grew increasingly heavy.

He recalled the chilling scene he had witnessed during the tournament. At the time, he had buried that sense of foreboding deep in his heart, but the more he thought about it now, the more wrong it felt.

After tossing and turning all night, Li Lingchen resolved to go to Sword Peak to pay his respects to Leng Fangxie. Even if he encountered the Holy Venerable Fuheng and was rebuked, he would simply offer a respectful apology. Surely a power of such heaven-shaking magnitude would not trouble himself with a mere disciple.

However, when he reached the foot of Sword Peak, before he could take a single step, he was blocked by a small attendant who appeared out of nowhere. No matter how he questioned the child, the attendant would reveal nothing, saying only: "Entry is forbidden." This happened several times. As Li Lingchen’s movements grew more desperate, he attempted to force his way in on the final occasion, only to be struck by the attendant until he coughed up blood.

As Li Lingchen lay on the ground, he dimly caught sight of a bird the size of a palm flying toward him. The high-and-mighty attendant suddenly changed color, bowing his head so low it nearly touched the ground. The bird tilted its head to look at him, its gaze cold and filled with a human-like intelligence.

Had his master sensed him?

Suddenly, the bird’s eyes turned crimson! Li Lingchen was struck with terror, his head spinning in a dizzying haze.

When he woke again, he was no longer at Sword Peak; above him were the familiar black wooden beams. Li Lingchen turned his head and saw the greenery on the window lattice and the pond outside.

He tried to rise, but a sharp pain surged through his chest. Unable to support himself, he fell back onto the bed, only to see a cultivator in dark robes standing by the bedside.

"Junior Brother Li, you caused quite a stir at Sword Peak."

Li Lingchen had met this man when he was still a frail mortal; at the time, Leng Fangxie had called him "Senior Brother." Having lived in Jiuchen for so long, he knew what "Senior Brother" signified, and he scrambled to rise again.

The Senior Brother waved a hand, signaling him not to move. "Your injuries have not yet healed; it is best not to move carelessly. Otherwise, the apothecary I summoned will start huffing and puffing at me again."

Li Lingchen nodded in acknowledgment.

The Senior Brother asked, "You went to Sword Peak several times, ending up like this—you wish to see our Junior Brother?"

Li Lingchen nodded again.

"Junior Brother is currently in seclusion with the Holy Venerable at the Flowing Cloud Flying Palace. He has been away from the sect for too long, and the Holy Venerable was unable to oversee his cultivation. Now that he has finally returned, the master and disciple surely have much to discuss." The Senior Brother comforted him, "I know you are worried about him, but Junior Brother values you highly. Once he advances his cultivation and emerges from seclusion, he will surely come to find you. What you must do now is focus on your own cultivation."

"..." Li Lingchen remained silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.

The Senior Brother departed.

Far from feeling relieved, Li Lingchen grew even more anxious, gripped by an inexplicable sense of dread.

The Flowing Cloud Flying Palace...

It was said to be a spiritual artifact placed by the Holy Venerable at the summit of Sword Peak, possessing the ability to cultivate and refine spiritual essence. The Holy Venerable rarely appeared in the world, spending his days in the Flying Palace and only emerging for matters of great importance.

His master was the Holy Venerable’s disciple; cultivating in seclusion with him was not only logical but also a great opportunity for his master. He should not be worried. Could the Holy Venerable possibly harm his master?

All of Jiuchen knew how deeply the Holy Venerable cherished his master. Before his master reached the Nascent Soul stage, the Holy Venerable treated him almost like a precious treasure held in his palm, protecting him with the utmost care. For the sake of his master, the Holy Venerable had done many things he had never done before.

His master’s robes were woven by the Holy Venerable from clouds and mist.

His master’s residence was refined by the Holy Venerable himself.

His master’s sword—the Holy Venerable had ascended to the Ganges and descended to the depths of the netherworld, refining it for nearly a century in the Flowing Cloud Flying Palace, just to produce such a breathtakingly exquisite spiritual blade.

The devotion the Holy Venerable showed his master was something he could likely never hope to rival.

Yet...

It was precisely because of this that Li Lingchen felt such concern.

Li Lingchen closed his eyes, contemplating the evidence: the way Leng Fangxie would stop mid-sentence whenever he mentioned Fuheng, the Holy Venerable’s inexplicable hostility toward him, the various crises and obstacles he had faced, the ominous scene he alone had witnessed during the tournament, the attitude of the attendant at Sword Peak, and that bird with the crimson eyes that had suddenly appeared...

It was said that the Holy Venerable’s external avatar was the rare Jialie Great Roc.

Added to the gasping breaths he had overheard in the middle of the night and the ambiguous marks on his master’s body, all the clues combined to form a blasphemous, horrifying thought in Li Lingchen’s mind.

The way the Holy Venerable treated his master did not look like a master and disciple; it looked like lovers—

As this thought emerged, Li Lingchen’s heart felt as if it were being crushed by an invisible force. His chest felt impossibly tight, and an indescribable panic seeped through him.

Gradually, he calmed down, replaced by a strange, settling sense of resignation.

His thought, while sounding bizarre at first, was not entirely baseless. If even he, a disciple who had not yet formally entered the path, could harbor such filthy thoughts toward Leng Fangxie after seeing him only a few times, how could the Holy Venerable Fuheng, who lived day and night with him and witnessed his every pitiful and endearing gesture, avoid such feelings? Did the Holy Venerable not possess human passions? He did not practice the path of heartlessness.

An incestuous relationship between master and disciple, among cultivators of the Holy Venerable’s level, did not seem like such an impossibility.

That night in his dreams, Li Lingchen saw Leng Fangxie again. He was still reclining on the couch, revealing a sliver of his jade-like neck, which was covered in a scattering of shocking, star-like marks.

Unlike before, this time there were not only the two of them in the dream.

A third person in white robes sat beside Leng Fangxie, a faint smile on his lips.

He heard Li Lingchen approach, turned his head to look, and stared at him for a moment. His smile did not reach his eyes; there was only cold, icy contempt.

Li Lingchen was frozen in place by that gaze. He watched as the man turned back, whispering, "Fangxie."

The jade-like figure reclining on the couch ignored him, but the man did not seem discouraged. His smile deepened, his eyes turning as soft as water, as if looking at a treasure held in his palm.

"Fangxie." He called out again, low and soft, his tone tinged with a slight urgency, revealing a sense of suppressed desire.

Li Lingchen watched helplessly as the man reached out, wrapping an arm around the jade figure’s shoulders, pulling Leng Fangxie into his embrace with a look of absolute possession. He leaned in, pressing his thin, cold lips against that provocative stretch of neck.

It was not hard to imagine how he would leave burning brands upon it.

He cast a sidelong glance at Li Lingchen.

A look of pure disdain.

Li Lingchen woke up with a start.