Chapter 7 — Don’t Take My Master Away

“Lingjue! I’m your elder!”

His internal organs felt as though they were being crushed, leaving him unable to breathe. Mystic Truth Daoist’s face had turned the color of liver, his eyes bulging with rage, yet he still coughed up a mouthful of blood from his heart.

Xiao Ji remained expressionless. Even the contempt in his downward gaze was unmistakable.

“The cultivation world respects strength. And you…”

A cold scoff escaped his lips.

“Shut up!”

Before Xiao Ji could finish, Mystic Truth Daoist seemed to have been struck where it hurt most. He immediately flew into a rage.

He reached into the air with his right hand.

A horsetail whisk appeared with a sharp whoosh, and he charged forward without regard for anything else, engaging Xiao Ji’s sword light in battle.

Yet among the seven great paths of cultivation, sword cultivators were the most domineering.

Mystic Truth Daoist was merely a spell cultivator—and one who had repeatedly failed to break through to ascension over the years.

Against Xiao Ji, he had absolutely no ability to resist.

In less than two incense sticks of time, under the terrified gazes of his trembling Daoist attendants, he was knocked from the sky and slammed into the ground.

Boom!

Dust billowed everywhere.

Mystic Truth Daoist’s face was covered in blood, and he could barely breathe.

Meanwhile, throughout the entire confrontation, Xiao Ji had relied on nothing but a single sword.

He hadn’t even moved his body.

His hair wasn’t disheveled in the slightest.

The outcome was obvious.

Mystic Truth Daoist breathed heavily like a broken bellows.

His chest rose and fell.

His voice was filled with sorrow and complicated emotions.

“Your cultivation has actually reached this level…”

“Why haven’t you ascended?”

The sound of shoes scraping against gravel approached.

Xiao Ji stopped in front of him and looked down calmly.

“This is the last time.”

That calm, composed gaze seemed ordinary at first.

But upon closer inspection, it carried an unmistakable warning.

It was just like Xiao Ji himself.

Normally, no matter whom he faced, he possessed the detached bearing of an immortal.

He fit every mortal’s imagination of what an immortal should look like.

But the moment anything involved his demonic disciple—

the domineering soul of a sword cultivator was exposed completely.

“A cultivator should have all six roots cleansed…”

Mystic Truth Daoist stared at Xiao Ji’s eyes, which were burdened with so much karma and desire.

His expression slowly changed.

Then—

“Hahahahahahahaha!”

He burst into laughter.

The defeated confusion in his eyes was instantly replaced by endless mockery.

“Xiao Ji!”

“You truly think you don’t want to ascend?”

“It’s the Heavenly Dao that won’t let you ascend!”

“You’re bound by obsession because of that calamity star!”

“He is your tribulation…”

“Your tribulation!!”

“No matter how extraordinary your talent is, no matter if you’re hailed as the number one person beneath the Heavenly Dao…”

“You’ll end up just like this old man!”

“Forever…”

“Forever unable to reach that land of ultimate bliss!”

He looked almost insane.

Xiao Ji took one step backward.

Displeasure flashed through his eyes.

Then he flicked his sleeve and left.

Mystic Truth Daoist continued laughing for a while.

Then came a long silence.

No one knew how much time had passed.

The Daoist attendants thought he was dead.

Trembling, they approached to dig him out.

The moment their young hands touched his withered, ancient-tree-like skin—

The old man, whose breathing was barely perceptible, opened his eyes.

The attendants hurriedly retreated and knelt on the ground.

“Daoist Master, will you be entering seclusion?”

Whether through life-extending pills or sinister methods, mortal cultivators who failed to ascend could live for roughly five thousand years at most.

Mystic Truth Daoist had just turned five thousand.

In other words—

if he did not ascend soon, his lifespan was about to end.

Xiao Ji’s arrival had severely damaged his vitality.

The lifespan he had left was only enough for one final attempt at breaking through to ascension.

And he had to enter seclusion immediately.

Not a second could be wasted.

For a cultivator who had spent years unable to ascend, this opportunity was priceless.

So priceless that any worldly grudge could be abandoned without hesitation.

“No need.”

Mystic Truth Daoist remained silent for a while.

Then one withered hand gripped the edge of the crater, and he slowly dragged himself out.

“Prepare the altar.”

“This old man wants to perform a divination.”

Under the sunlight, his cloudy eyes flickered thoughtfully.

Clearly, Xiao Ji had gone after the wrong person.

The one who had harmed Yu Jin wasn’t him.

“Who could it be?”

Mystic Truth Daoist murmured while wiping blood from his beard.

After a moment, he shook his head.

“Whoever it is…”

“They’ll be useful.”

Now that Xiao Ji had his eyes on him, it would be difficult for him to make any moves.

But the person secretly harming Yu Jin—

could be used to his advantage.

“My old bones have no hope of ascending.”

“Then I’ll do one last thing for the sect.”

“Demon…”

He recalled Yu Jin’s figure and snorted coldly.

With a wave of his hand, he restored the ruined Mystic Hall.

Then, with his hands clasped behind his back, he walked inside.

“The greatest genius our Tianyi Dao Sect has encountered in tens of thousands of years…”

“Yet he fell because of a demon!”

“What an incorrigible fool.”

“Fine.”

“Since you, Xiao Ji, can’t bear to do it…”

“Then let this old man clean up your sect for you.”

Moonlit Night

Half of Yu Jin’s face was buried in the blanket.

His soft hair was scattered across the pillow as he slept soundly.

Moonlight illuminated the figure sitting beside him.

Xiao Ji was thinking about Mystic Truth Daoist’s mad words from earlier that day.

His expression was difficult to read.

After a long while, Yu Jin rolled over again.

This time, half his face—including the bridge of his straight nose—was pressed into the bedding.

“Mmm…”

“Master…”

Only then did Xiao Ji lower his eyes to look at him.

Yu Jin’s face was already exquisitely delicate.

With half of it buried in the blanket, it looked even smaller, almost palm-sized.

Perhaps he was too warm in his sleep.

His skin was flushed white, and his delicate brows were slightly furrowed.

His sleeping posture was completely undisciplined.

Xiao Ji frowned.

He leaned down and repositioned Yu Jin properly.

Then he pulled the blanket away from his nose and mouth.

Half-asleep, Yu Jin opened his eyes.

His slender hand instinctively reached for Master’s hand.

Xiao Ji merely glanced at him.

He avoided Yu Jin’s hand and instead placed his palm over the boy’s eyes.

“Continue sleeping.”

Yu Jin unconsciously hummed.

His eyelashes trembled beneath Xiao Ji’s palm, brushing against it and creating the faintest ticklish sensation.

A short while later, Xiao Ji removed his hand.

Yu Jin had already fallen completely back into a peaceful sleep.

Only then did Xiao Ji stand.

He had arrived with the moonlight.

And left cloaked in it.

Yet less than fifteen minutes after he left—

the person who had been sleeping so comfortably on his master’s bed suddenly became feverish.

Yu Jin kicked off the blanket and seemed to be lying over a blazing fire.

He propped himself up against the bed, gasping for breath.

His features twisted in pain.

His hand unconsciously pressed against his chest.

“Master…”

“Jin’er’s heart hurts so much…”

“It’s so hot…”

“It feels like something is burning…”

“Save Jin’er, Master…”

His eyes remained tightly shut.

It was as though he were trapped in a nightmare.

And somewhere no one could see—

the skin over his chest became increasingly red.

It seemed as though a great fire was burning inside his body, making his skin almost translucent.

Inside his empty dantian, where the demonic root had grown, gray-white smoke began to emerge.

It was thick and sticky, like spider silk.

Little by little.

Bit by bit.

Until it began to grow wildly.

“Ah!”

Yu Jin cried out in pain.

His body arched violently on the bed.

A vague black shadow slowly floated out of his chest.

First came a beast-like vertical pupil.

Then a distorted, screaming ghost face emerged.

The ghost face detached itself from Yu Jin’s body and disappeared into the thick darkness.

It followed the scent of living creatures and flew away.

Nearby spirit beasts that had been sleeping huddled together suddenly opened their eyes uneasily.

They cried out one after another, cautiously surveying their surroundings.

Suddenly—

a skeletal hand tore through the empty night sky.

The spirit beast didn’t even have time to let out its final scream.

It was dragged into the abyss.

After a long while—

only a pool of blood remained on the ground.

“Not enough…”

“Not enough!”

“How can these low-level creatures possibly satisfy me?”

“Damn you, Xiao Ji!”

“I spent three hundred years cultivating this power…”

“And you destroyed it in an instant!”

In a place no one could see or hear, a rough, genderless voice shrieked furiously.

The black shadow flew back toward the immortal residence.

Its form was slightly clearer than before.

“Three hundred years ago, it was you.”

“Three hundred years later, it’s still you…”

“Xiao Ji…”

“Xiao Ji!”

The shadow twisted into madness.

Its shrill voice made Yu Jin frown in his sleep.

Again and again, in the midst of his pain, he called for his master.

“Master…”

“Master…”

“Save Jin’er…”

Although his moans were faint, they still caught the black shadow’s attention.

It suddenly became eerily calm.

Then a sound like grinding saw blades rang through the air.

“It’s fine.”

“I still have you…”

“You’ll help me.”

“Good boy.”

As it spoke—

it entered Yu Jin’s chest.

Yu Jin let out an even more painful moan.

The Next Day

Xiao Ji arrived somewhat later than usual for disciple instruction.

Yu Jin and Lin Chun were sitting opposite each other.

Their attitudes couldn’t have been more incompatible.

One had his chin raised, making it obvious he looked down on the other.

The other kept hesitating, clearly wanting to start a conversation but having no idea how.

They tortured each other like this for two whole hours.

Finally—

Xiao Ji arrived.

Yu Jin immediately stood from his cushion and hurried toward him.

“Master!”

Xiao Ji’s brows were tightly furrowed when he arrived.

His expression was unusually serious.

Yu Jin immediately stopped.

He was quick to read the situation and asked:

“Master, is something troubling you?”

It wasn’t exactly a personal worry.

Earlier that morning, disciples from Spirit Beast Peak had reported something strange.

As usual, they had gone to feed the spirit beasts.

Instead, they discovered that all thirty-six Heavenly-grade spirit beasts had died.

Only bloodstains and feathers remained.

Elder Huiming hurried over.

Seeing the precious beasts he had painstakingly raised reduced to such a state, he immediately covered his face and wept.

Then he demanded that the Martial Sect Master deliver justice.

After arriving and investigating, the Martial Sect Master couldn’t find anything wrong.

It was as though everyone knew a murder had occurred—

but there wasn’t a single clue to solve it.

The culprit had simply vanished into thin air.

It was deeply bizarre.

With no other option, they had sought Xiao Ji’s help.

Xiao Ji had been intercepted on his way to teach his disciples.

The moment he arrived, the grief-stricken Elder Huiming nearly threw himself into Xiao Ji’s arms.

Only Xiao Ji’s warning glance had allowed him to dodge in time.

Fifteen minutes later, Xiao Ji wiped the remaining blood from his hand and stood.

His gaze was icy.

“Demonic cultivator.”

The demonic aura remaining in the blood was extremely faint.

Ordinary people couldn’t detect it.

Only a great cultivator like Xiao Ji, who was already approaching ascension, could discern it.

The fact that the number-one sect in the cultivation world, Tianyi Dao Sect, had been infiltrated by a demonic cultivator—

this was completely different from the ambiguous rumors surrounding Yu Jin.

This was a genuine demon.

Everyone present was shaken.

“From the traces left behind, this demonic cultivator is still quite weak.”

“Otherwise, it wouldn’t have limited itself to eating spirit beasts.”

Xiao Ji continued:

“But don’t underestimate it.”

“If it has developed the desire to devour living creatures, then it is using them to strengthen itself.”

“To prevent the situation from escalating, we must make preparations in advance.”

“Senior Brother is right.”

The Martial Sect Master nodded and immediately ordered a thorough investigation.

At that very moment, Yu Jin was asking about Xiao Ji’s worries.

But Xiao Ji didn’t answer.

He merely glanced at both disciples.

His gaze moved away from Yu Jin and settled on Lin Chun.

“Is your sword flying still unstable?”

“Reporting to Master, after I returned yesterday, I practiced for quite some time. My sword flying has become much more controlled.”

Lin Chun bowed respectfully.

His progress over the past few days had been astonishing.

He was beginning to look like a proper cultivator.

Yu Jin, however, pursed his lips beside him.

“He’s just pretending.”

Lin Chun was waiting for Master to ask him more questions.

He was ready to dramatically describe how he had spent three hours the previous night sitting under a lamp and talking to his wooden sword.

But Xiao Ji merely hummed.

Then he turned to Yu Jin.

“How is your hand?”

Lin Chun froze.

Why does it feel like Master only asked me that out of courtesy?

Yu Jin, meanwhile, happily held out his hand.

He placed it right in front of Master’s eyes.

His entire body leaned forward, almost crawling into Master’s arms.

Master didn’t stop him.

He took one of Yu Jin’s hands and examined it with a slight frown.

Just as he raised his eyes to say something—

Yu Jin seemed to know what he was about to ask and immediately shook his head.

“It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt.”

“Your ointment worked, Master.”

“It doesn’t hurt at all.”

As he spoke, a faint pink blush spread across his cheeks.

He looked almost blissful.

Master merely hummed.

“…”

Lin Chun stared at them.

For some reason, that hum sounded different from the one he had received earlier.

It seemed much more human.

And hadn’t the two of them been fighting terribly just yesterday?

How had they already made up?

Lin Chun felt dizzy.

The relationship between Master and Senior Brother…

It seems like it doesn’t need anyone else interfering at all.

Since Yu Jin’s hands were injured, he couldn’t copy books anymore.

Xiao Ji ordered him to memorize scriptures in the library instead.

He would come check his progress at sunset.

Perhaps afraid that Yu Jin would become stubborn again, Xiao Ji even stayed beside him for a while.

He brought several old books and quietly read them.

Yu Jin memorized his scriptures while secretly stealing glances at him.

After several attempts, he finally saw what Master was reading.

A General History of the Cultivation World.

Xiao Ji had noticed countless times that Yu Jin’s mind was wandering.

Finally, he couldn’t indulge him anymore.

He clicked his tongue heavily and gave him a warning look.

“Focus.”

“Okay, focus, focus.”

Yu Jin shuddered.

He muttered it several times and desperately concentrated on the Dao scripture.

Xiao Ji snorted.

He turned another page.

The page described the history of demonic purges throughout the cultivation world over hundreds of thousands of years.

There had been countless small-scale demon-suppression campaigns.

Only about five had been major campaigns.

Each time, all the major sects of the cultivation world had joined forces.

The righteous path had united to conduct a complete purge.

According to the official history, every time the result had been:

“All demons exterminated.”

Yet several thousand years later—

new demons would appear again.

It was almost as though some immortal, undying force were driving them from behind the scenes.

Xiao Ji’s eyes flickered.

He remembered the remnant soul of the Demon Lord he had slain beneath the Heaven-Seizing Sword three hundred years ago.

It had been a completely justified victory.

The 3,876 demons of Qianyuan City had all died beneath his sword.

The final one had been the Demon Lord’s remnant soul hiding inside the statue of the Pure-Heaven Dao Lord.

He had brought his sword down.

The defeated remnant had been reduced to ashes.

And amid the shattered fragments of the divine statue—

he had seen…

“Master?”

Yu Jin was calling him.

He rested his chin on his hand, his lips moving as though he were saying something.

A clean, innocent little face streaked with tears from three hundred years ago suddenly overlapped with the mature, beautiful face before him.

Xiao Ji lost himself in thought.

Yu Jin called again.

“Master?”

“Master?”

This was the first time Yu Jin had ever seen Xiao Ji distracted.

He assumed Master had somehow sent his soul elsewhere to deal with something.

Staring at his master’s clean, sharp profile, Yu Jin himself didn’t know why.

He simply felt an impulse.

Slowly—

he leaned closer.

“You intend to do what?”

Before his lips could touch Master’s face, Xiao Ji’s cold question came from a distance so close that it made Yu Jin’s heart jump.

“Mm…”

Yu Jin’s entire face instantly turned red.

His heart pounded wildly.

He lowered his head, fingers tangling together helplessly.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the title on Master’s book.

In desperation, he came up with an excuse.

“I…”

“I wanted to see what Master was reading.”

“Hmph.”

Xiao Ji sounded as though he had caught a mischievous child making excuses.

Completely unimpressed, he snapped the book shut.

“You have five hours left.”

“If you can’t recite it by sunset…”

“You won’t sleep tonight.”

“Mm-hmm…”

Yu Jin nodded stupidly.

Then—

“Ah?”

He finally understood what Master meant.

His fox-like eyes widened.

“Master!”

He hurriedly stood up and tried to grab Xiao Ji’s arm, hoping to persuade him to reconsider.

But Xiao Ji had already left.

Yu Jin could only give up.

He took several deep breaths.

Then picked up the book and began memorizing.

“A cultivator must remember…”

“Do not harbor greed. Do not become attached to what you desire.”

“Do not become angry, resentful, or jealous.”

“Do not be foolish, ignorant, or unable to distinguish right from wrong…”

He paused.

Then muttered irritably as he flipped the page.

“What a stupid book…”

“It keeps scolding me.”

Once he truly concentrated on memorizing, the day passed quickly.

By sunset, Yu Jin had finally memorized everything.

He put down the book.

The spot beside him where Master had been sitting was empty.

For no reason at all, an intense sense of loneliness welled up inside him.

It felt as though the world had changed completely.

As though time itself had shifted.

As though—

he had been abandoned.

“Not like that.”

“Raise it.”

“Swing your sword!”

“Do you have no strength?”

Sounds of clashing sword blades came from the lake beneath the pavilion.

Yu Jin followed the sound with his eyes.

And froze.

The setting sun dyed the sky a soft rose.

The evening clouds stretched like ribbons.

Master held the Heaven-Seizing Sword as he instructed Lin Chun in swordsmanship.

Lin Chun was simply too clumsy.

His movements were constantly incorrect.

So Master had no choice but to personally correct him.

His body moved alongside the boy’s immature steps.

It was almost as though an ancient pine were desperately shielding a young sapling from the wind and rain.

Their shadows stretched across the ground.

Then intertwined.

Far too intimate.

Yu Jin’s heart instantly felt as though it had been soaked in water.

It wrinkled with bitterness.

A sour ache rose within his chest and gathered in his throat.

His chest heaved.

Under the weight of his grievance, an overwhelming fury suddenly erupted.

Lin Chun’s innocent face distorted again and again in his eyes.

Every glance.

Every movement.

Everything seemed to be mocking him.

“Damn bastard!”

Yu Jin clenched his palm and suddenly stood.

He was about to rush outside.

But before he could take another step—

Master’s voice appeared in his mind.

“Then you need to be obedient.”

Yu Jin withdrew his foot.

He lowered his head, hiding the resentment in his eyes.

Then whispered to himself:

“No.”

“No…”

“Master likes obedient children.”

“I have to be obedient.”

When the lesson ended, Xiao Ji listened as Yu Jin obediently recited a passage of scripture.

He nodded in satisfaction.

But then he noticed that his usually spirited disciple seemed somewhat wilted.

Like a peach blossom that had withered.

He didn’t think too much of it.

He simply assumed Yu Jin was tired.

So he waved his hand.

“Go back and rest.”

“Yes, Master.”

Yu Jin answered dejectedly and left.

That night, just after Yu Jin fell asleep—

a black shadow flashed beside his bed.

A skeletal hand brushed across his chest.

Yu Jin immediately frowned in his sleep.

Cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

His hand reached helplessly through the air.

Tears slipped from his tightly closed eyes.

He seemed to be dreaming of something deeply painful.

“Don’t…”

“Don’t take my Master away.”

“Master…”

“Master…”

“Don’t look at Junior Brother.”

“Look at me…”

“Look at Jin’er…”

“Ugh…”