Chapter 40: Sharing a Bed – No Rooms Left, Make Do for One Night…

Released on April 6, 2026

Meng Ji wrinkled her face. “…Full.”

Gu Changhuai: “…”

So it wasn’t that she hadn’t absorbed any; she was stuffed full and couldn’t eat more. Even containers needed time to digest when they were full.

However, the next steps still required Meng Xian and Meng Ji, so Gu Changhuai didn’t hide anything from them. He explained that they were going to find where the souls of these bones were trapped and guide them to the afterlife.

Most of the baleful qi in Meng Xian and Meng Ji came from these bones. Though they had no memories, they could point out the direction where the souls of the bones were located.

They nodded in agreement without hesitation. Once the light of the Qiankun Sword faded, the two held hands and voluntarily drew the baleful qi from Zhuangzi Manor into their bodies.

As the baleful qi lessened, the dark, heavy sky gradually cleared until dusk fell in the west. Only then did the sisters fully absorb all the baleful qi.

Rong Ye took out the compass, and Meng Xian and Meng Ji flew into it together. Gu Changhuai was about to ask what to do with the bones in Zhuangzi Manor when Rong Ye produced a palm-sized jade box. The lid opened on its own without wind, and all the bones were continuously drawn into the box.

Gu Changhuai blinked and leaned over to look.

The interior of the jade box was invisible no matter how many bones went in; it only showed a mass of glistening white qi, like a bottomless pit.

“Should we collect the bones from the City Lord’s Mansion too?” he asked.

Rong Ye nodded. “Once the cleanup is finished, they naturally need to be collected.”

Leaving the bones piled up in the Mortal Realm wasn’t a long-term solution. Moreover, they would gather resentment and continue producing baleful qi, making it inconvenient to leave them anywhere. While the Enforcement Hall handled the aftermath, they would gather all the bones together before seeking the location where the souls were trapped. That was the best plan.

Gu Changhuai inwardly clicked his tongue in admiration.

No wonder he was the leader of the righteous path; he considered everything so thoroughly.

However, in Rong Ye’s plan, only one of Meng Xian or Meng Ji would be left as a container for the baleful qi. Otherwise, the Qiankun Sword wouldn’t have been drawn for a killing blow the moment they met Meng Ji. His methods were equally decisive and ruthless, which was understandable.

Gu Changhuai wondered: if his identity were ever exposed one day, would Rong Ye draw his sword against him too?

Well… that seemed inevitable.

He rested his chin on his hand, gazing at Rong Ye’s superior, aloof profile, thinking he should try to delay that revelation. He needed to be more careful when racking up achievements. Truth be told, he wasn’t eager to fight Rong Ye.

…

Not long after.

All the bones in Zhuangzi Manor were collected into the jade box, leaving the once bone-packed manor empty and desolate.

Without the bones forming the walls, the eaves instantly crumbled and let in drafts. The bones that had paved the ground were gone too, revealing deep pits extending underground, as if the entire mountain had been hollowed out. In just a single day, the place was filled with precarious ruins everywhere.

After collecting the bones, Gu Changhuai returned to Ding Tian City with Rong Ye.

They had originally planned to collect the bones from the City Lord’s Mansion, but upon arrival, they found the Enforcement Hall disciples still tallying the corpses. Disciples carried bodies back and forth, their expressions dazed and exhausted, as if their bodies had been hollowed out. Even Hua Mei was too drained to continue and hid on the roof of the City Lord’s Mansion to catch the breeze.

“…” Gu Changhuai said to Rong Ye, “Maybe let them rest for a bit.” Even donkeys on a production team wouldn’t be worked this hard.

These disciples hadn’t transcended yet and couldn’t go without sleep indefinitely.

Rong Ye said softly, “Very well.”

With the order given, Jin Shuang immediately dropped the corpse he was dragging, rallied the others to return to the inn for a night’s rest, and added an extra ring of banners outside the City Lord’s Mansion to keep curious civilians at bay.

Back at the inn, Gu Changhuai followed Rong Ye to check on Pei Tianyi. The man, who had lain unconscious all day, still hadn’t woken, though the seals on his body had been reinforced considerably.

As they emerged, they ran into Kong Huai hurrying over.

Kong Huai looked troubled as he said to Gu Changhuai, “The place is fully booked; no empty rooms left.” Then, with eager anticipation, he added, “How about you bunk with me for the night?”

Just as he spoke, Rong Ye stepped out from a room door. His gaze passed directly over Gu Changhuai’s back and fixed faintly on Kong Huai. His expression was impassive, but his eyes held unfathomable depths with a sudden chill brewing.

“…!” Killing intent!

Kong Huai frowned warily, looking around.

…No external enemies, though. Why did his neck feel so cold?

Not far away, Jin Shuang, who had witnessed it all: “…”

This fool!

Gu Changhuai was about to accept Kong Huai’s enthusiastic invitation.

But suddenly, a hand reached from behind Kong Huai and swiftly covered his mouth.

Jin Shuang muffled him while dragging him upstairs, smiling elegantly as he said regretfully, “Junior Brother Kong still needs to discuss sword techniques with me tonight; afraid we can’t room together.”

…Huh?

Gu Changhuai looked on with deep respect.

Discussing swordplay in the middle of the night—not bad for disciples of the Xinnan Immortal Sect; so diligent!

The lazy Demon Clan could learn a thing or two. Gu Changhuai glanced at Hua Mei, for example. Hua Mei had just yawned and was heading out when he met Gu Changhuai’s gaze. “I’ll sleep in a tree; wanna join me?”

Who wanted to sleep in a tree!

“No thanks,” Gu Changhuai declined. “Not interested in hanging myself from the southeast branch.”

Hua Mei tsked. “You’re getting more delicate by the day. Back then, you squatted in every damn shack.” He shook his head and walked out.

Gu Changhuai huffed discontentedly. What delicate? Why suffer if you could enjoy comfort? A warm bed was the best.

Suddenly, a familiar faint cold fragrance wafted from beside him.

Gu Changhuai turned his head and grabbed the passing Rong Ye. “Immortal Lord, no rooms left—wanna squeeze in for the night?”

“…” Rong Ye raised his eyes and stared at him quietly for a moment.

In that instant their gazes met, the depths of Rong Ye’s eyes were profound and dark, inscrutable without a word. Gu Changhuai assumed he was unwilling and sheepishly withdrew his hand. “Forget it if not; I’ll find someone else.”

As he turned, his wrist was firmly gripped. Looking down, Rong Ye’s palm completely encircled it. At the same time, a voice neither light nor heavy sounded by his ear: “Come here.”

Huh?

Gu Changhuai tilted his head.

Rong Ye had agreed.

…

At that moment.

The dragged-away Kong Huai angrily shook off Jin Shuang’s hand. “What are you doing? I finally had a chance to get close to Junior Brother Gu—who wants to discuss swordplay with you…”

Before he finished, Jin Shuang cut him off: “Shut up. Junior Brother Gu is the Immortal Venerable’s attendant; if there’s nowhere else, he’ll naturally stay with the Immortal Venerable. What’s it got to do with you?”

Kong Huai retorted skeptically, “Bullshit! How could the Immortal Venerable share a room with anyone…” Then his peripheral vision caught it: through an unclosed window, Gu Changhuai and Rong Ye entered the same room, one after the other.

“…Fuck!” Kong Huai’s pupils shook.

Didn’t the Immortal Lord dislike people getting close? He didn’t even let anyone onto Supreme Peak! How could he share a room with someone?

Jin Shuang shook his head in disdain.

No sense at all.

Didn’t he know he’d just saved his own skin?

Inside the inn room.

Gu Changhuai showed no reserve. Behind the screen, he shed his outer robes for nightclothes, loosened his casually pinned-up hair held by a wooden fork, and slipped into the loose white nightclothes. They draped ethereally over him, his long ink-black hair like raven feathers scattering around his body. As he moved, his tall, slender figure seemed even more graceful.

The collar was a bit loose; he adjusted it and lay on the bed. The bed wasn’t large but sufficient for two. He considerately rolled to the inner side and patted the empty space beside him.

With his movement, the wide, silky sleeves bunched at his elbows, revealing a section of smooth, slender forearm. His pale skin glowed faintly in the candlelight.

Gu Changhuai enthusiastically invited Rong Ye: “Come on, Immortal Lord!”

As he spoke, his clear, handsome face bore a smile. His ink-black eyes were clear and gentle, a few strands of hair falling on his shoulders in stark contrast to the white nightclothes. His long lashes drooped slightly, his whole demeanor screaming harmless, innocent, and unguarded—like he could be easily bullied to death.

“…” Rong Ye’s gaze lingered on Gu Changhuai for a moment, his eyes darkening. Ignoring the invitation, he closed his eyes and sat in meditation on the nearby small couch.

To calm his mind.

On the bed beside him, Gu Changhuai propped his chin with interest, his gaze fixed on Rong Ye’s beautiful face with closed eyes. He watched leisurely for a while before saying, “Rare trip to the Mortal Realm—don’t be so rigid. Meditating on a little couch won’t let you rest well.”

He chattered on: “Tomorrow we’re finding where the bone souls are trapped; how’ll you have the energy if you don’t rest properly…”

Of course, he was talking nonsense. Cultivators, once transcended, gained more energy from meditative cycles than sleeping. He just wanted to tease Rong Ye.

“Come on, come on.” Gu Changhuai whined. “They say when in Rome, do as the Romans do. The spiritual energy here’s so turbid; lying down to rest is more comfortable…”

He was still counting on his fingers when Rong Ye suddenly opened his eyes from the couch. Seeing him stir, Gu Changhuai’s voice cut off abruptly.

Rong Ye rose silently and approached the bed’s edge.

Gu Changhuai: “…”

Wait, he was just joking—you took it seriously!

The candle flame flickered. Rong Ye stood at the bed’s edge with hands behind his back, his noble dark-green robes casting a tall, straight shadow that enveloped most of Gu Changhuai. Backlit, his face alternated between light and shadow, his lowered gaze holding a surging, ominous danger that was hard to discern.

Feeling an inexplicable sense of unknown peril, Gu Changhuai obediently shut his mouth and shrank his neck uncomfortably. Teasing was one thing; Rong Ye actually coming over was another.

“…”

After a moment.

A breeze carrying a hint of coolness brushed over, and the bed dipped. Gu Changhuai’s shoulder touched another body—the space beside him filled as Rong Ye lay down.

Gu Changhuai: “…”

First time sharing a bed and covers with someone—and that someone was the usually unapproachable Rong Ye.

But this discomfort lasted only an instant. Soon, Gu Changhuai realized Rong Ye said nothing but didn’t restrict his movements.

Even if he rolled over and half-draped himself on Rong Ye, there were no rebukes or complaints about the fuss. He grew bolder and more reckless, even patting Rong Ye’s hand solemnly. “See? Lying down is more comfortable, right?”

As he spoke, he wriggled around, flipping onto his stomach and propping his head on his arms to gaze at Rong Ye lying beside him.

He noticed Rong Ye’s lashes casting shadows on his lower eyelids. Wow, so long.* Emboldened, Gu Changhuai reached to touch. Rong Ye caught his hand and sighed: “…Time to sleep.”

His tone was as usual, but upon closer listen, it carried a hint of helplessness.

Gu Changhuai couldn’t sleep and rolled again. The inn bed was poor quality; his movements produced creaky old sounds, and his body occasionally bumped Rong Ye’s. Then he got poked by a pearl on Rong Ye’s robe and reached to tug at Rong Ye’s sash.

“…” Rong Ye’s eyes snapped open, gripping Gu Changhuai’s hand mid-tug. “…Don’t fool around.” His voice was somewhat hoarse, as if suppressing some emotion.