Chapter 71

Thin wisps of water vapor rose upward, while the clear, greenish water flowed with a gentle gurgling sound.

A wave of turquoise water was concealed amid the lush green bamboo forest. The hot spring was surrounded by bluestone, and amid this silent expanse of green, the outline of a figure in white robes came into view.

The mist blurred his vision. Shen Yu was half-squatting at the edge of the stone platform, his long, jet-black eyelashes appearing even denser in the steam.

Seeing Wen Liuhe open his eyes, Shen Yu lifted his eyelids. His gaze quickly slid over Wen Liuhe’s injuries.

Recalling how this man had gritted his teeth in pain, Shen Yu’s lips curved into a lazy arc. He withdrew the hand holding the handkerchief and teased with a smile, “Weren’t you acting all tough as nails back in the main hall? Now you’re finally scared?”

Yet Wen Liuhe suddenly grabbed the hand that Shen Yu was pulling back.

The hand that had just soaked in the spirit spring was still wrapped in dripping water. His hard finger bones clamped tightly onto Shen Yu’s pale wrist.

The young man was in the midst of his growth spurt, with boundless vigor and energy surging inside him. His body temperature was already high to begin with, and the spot where their skin touched immediately ignited a wave of damp, scorching heat.

Shen Yu raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected the other man to still have this much strength left.

Shen Yu had no intention of struggling free. Instead, he wiggled his fingers, let go of the handkerchief, and flicked a few droplets of water from his fingertips straight into Wen Liuhe’s unguarded eyes.

The man reverted to his usual lazy and carefree demeanor, his tone rising slightly at the end. “What’s this? Why are you grabbing your master’s wrist like that?”

The water droplets Shen Yu flicked splashed onto Wen Liuhe’s eyes and face. Wen Liuhe blinked and quickly turned his head away. Upon hearing Shen Yu’s words, he opened his eyes again. His fingers tightened on Shen Yu’s wrist and gave it a shake as he said irritably, “Your injury.”

Earlier, Shen Yu had urgently grabbed for the Dragon Chant Whip, and his palm had scraped across the vivid wound. It had quickly swelled up red. His skin was naturally pale with a lustrous sheen, like a frame of ice and snow draped in a layer of jade.

That wound on his palm looked particularly shocking.

Wen Liuhe recalled the origin of that whip mark, and his eyes darkened involuntarily.

Shen Yu followed his gaze. Only then did he belatedly notice the burning pain in his palm.

Shen Yu curled his fingers and smiled as he instructed the other man, “It’s just a minor wound. Your martial uncle gave you some medicine anyway. Come up here and apply it for your master.”

Wen Liuhe narrowed his eyes and looked at the curve of Shen Yu’s lips. He grumbled, “Hey, I’m the one who’s injured like this, and you’re still making me wait on you?”

Shen Yu shot him a light glance. “Your injury is on your back, not your hands.”

The Washing Spirit Pool had the effect of regenerating flesh and bone, but it was only mildly effective against external wounds like this. Wen Liuhe had only been joking offhand anyway. He soon released Shen Yu’s wrist and rose from the spirit pool.

As the young man stood up, he splashed a wave of warm spring water toward Shen Yu’s feet. The hem of his robe, embroidered with an immortal crane, grew even wetter.

Wen Liuhe sat down at the edge of the stone platform and took the medicine pouch from Shen Yu’s hand. He said nothing as he lowered his head and carefully applied the ointment to Shen Yu’s palm.

A few bamboo leaves drifted onto the surface of the spirit pool, spinning gently with the current. The rustling of leaves intertwined with the gurgling of the hot spring.

Shen Yu’s hand was cradled in Wen Liuhe’s palms, and he could feel the young man’s scorching body heat. He couldn’t help but sigh inwardly that youth truly had its advantages—endless vitality forever brimming within. Immortals might achieve longevity, but it was hard to alter one’s constitution.

Back in his own youth, Shen Yu had been full of vigor and ambition too. Now that he was older, he had grown lazy. Unless absolutely necessary, he rarely even drew his sword anymore.

Shen Yu shifted from squatting to sitting. His jet-black hair cascaded down his back with the motion, the overly long ends trailing into the water like aquatic plants born from the spirit spring.

The hem of his robe was soaked with damp marks too, and the embroidered immortal crane seemed to have flown into the pool, its tail feathers spread out in vivid motion.

Shen Yu simply removed his shoes and socks, baring his feet and stretching them into the warm spirit pool.

The ointment felt cool and refreshing, while the spring water was warm and soothing.

The young man’s hot breath fell on his palm, bringing a faint itch.

Shen Yu watched the bamboo leaves floating on the water’s surface, like tiny boats circling in his mind.

He had no parents. As a child, his master had picked him up from a battlefield trench in Taichu. At age seven, when it came time to choose his path, he had been unwilling to part from his master and naturally entered the sect to cultivate the Emotionless Sword Dao.

At sixteen, he had left Changliu for the first time and met Wei Yinghong at the Sword Trial Assembly. The two became close friends, exchanging letters from time to time.

At two hundred, his master ascended to immortality, and his senior brother Gu Changqing moved from Ask Sword Peak to Changliu Terrace.

During the ascension, endless golden light had plummeted from the heavens to the mortal world.

Ask Sword Peak had always been Taichu’s main pillar of martial strength. The sect specialized in the Emotionless Dao and rarely ventured beyond Changliu. With that sword standing firm behind Changliu, evil spirits could not invade, and demons steered clear. The saying “When Ask Sword is drawn, Taichu endures” came from this very truth.

At that time, his master had gripped his hand, a kind and gratified smile on his face, and personally handed him the peak lord token of Ask Sword Peak.

That burden and solitude had weighed on him for a full century.

No matter the reason, from the moment he chose to cultivate the Emotionless Dao, from the moment he took that token from his master’s hand, Shen Yu was destined to form no deep bonds with most people.

Shen Yu sighed inwardly and lowered his eyes to ask, “So, how did the Medicine Venerable manage to capture you?”

Wen Liuhe finished bandaging his hand, feeling a bit embarrassed deep down.

He could hardly say that it was revenge for those three months of confinement—he had deliberately gone to wreck Shen Yu’s flowers and spirit beasts. But on the way back after retrieving the spirit beast, disaster had struck from the sky, catching him off guard.

The key point was, he still couldn’t beat the guy right now.

Wen Liuhe averted his gaze evasively and sidestepped the main issue. “His medicine field got destroyed somehow. I just happened to be passing by, and he already had a bad impression of me. Who else was he going to grab?”

Shen Yu had Wen Liuhe turn around with his back to him, then lowered his eyes to inspect the wounds.

The shocking whip injuries had been largely mended by the spirit spring. Shen Yu told him to remove his outer robe and took out a bamboo splinter to apply medicine.

Hearing his complaint, a trace of amusement curved Shen Yu’s lips. “You knew he had a bad impression of you, yet you still have some self-awareness about it.”

Wen Liuhe licked his canine tooth. Those few lashes from the Medicine Venerable hadn’t quenched his fiery spirit in the slightest. “Is this my fault?”

Shen Yu held the bamboo splinter in his fingers. Hearing the arrogant tone, he jabbed it right into the wound as a lesson. “He’s your senior. You can say that kind of thing in front of your master, but you’d better pretend otherwise in his presence.”

Wen Liuhe instantly winced in pain, baring his teeth. He paused, about to retort, but then his eyes lit up as realization dawned. “So, Master believes me?”

“Why wouldn’t your master believe you?”

His voice rose slightly at the end, laced with amusement. The words landed on Wen Liuhe’s eardrums like a magnet, drawing in his attention.

After applying the medicine, Shen Yu took out bandages and reached around Wen Liuhe’s waist to wrap them.

His warm fingers brushed against the waist.

Wen Liuhe trembled all over. He felt a jolt like electricity shooting straight to his heart. He hurriedly grabbed the bandage, interrupting Shen Yu’s movements, and said with his back still turned, “Master, I can do it myself.”

Shen Yu eyed his back, puzzled but happy for the break. He handed over the bandage. Never one to be coy, he decided to address the issue head-on. “Do you know why your master confined you for three months?”

Wen Liuhe’s hands tightened as he wrapped the bandage. He kept his eyes lowered and asked impassively, “Why?”

A green bamboo leaf drifted onto Shen Yu’s knee. He picked it up and held it in his palm. “Your master lent you the Evil-Warding Sword back then. Do you remember?”

Wen Liuhe still had his back to Shen Yu. He nodded upon hearing this.

Shen Yu sighed. “As a sword cultivator, you know what a life-bound sword means. It shares a spiritual link with its master, and your master clearly sensed your killing intent through the Evil-Warding Sword. Qi Feibai was at fault first, but not to the point of deserving death.”

Wen Liuhe kept his head lowered, unconvinced deep down. His jaw clenched tight, and he bit back his words to avoid lashing out.

Shen Yu continued pointing out his faults. “There might be other grudges between you two, but he’s your fellow disciple. You both study under Taichu. Just because you dislike him, does that mean you have to kill him? And if you’re outside Taichu and run into other offending cultivators with no one to stop you, are you going to tear them apart alive?”

“Of course, you didn’t actually act. Since you didn’t strike, you weren’t truly in the wrong.”

Shen Yu sighed again and concluded, “The punishment was indeed too harsh on your master’s part.”

The air suddenly fell silent.

Wen Liuhe blinked, frozen in place.

A moment later, the young man turned around, pressing his luck. “Since Master admits the punishment was too harsh, there’s no apology gift?”

Seeing that Wen Liuhe had finished bandaging, Shen Yu withdrew the lonely little flying boat still floating in the Washing Spirit Pool. The hot spring water flowed slowly, bringing a sense of leisure.

Hearing Wen Liuhe’s shameless words, Shen Yu rose gracefully, his tone utterly heartless. “None.”

Wen Liuhe kept scheming as he spoke up. “Won’t that give Master a reputation for going back on his word? For your disciple’s sake, it’d be better to make it up to me.”

Shen Yu was amused by his sharp tongue and brazen attitude—he had no idea who the boy had learned it from. Shen Yu glanced at him lightly and chuckled. “Now that you mention it, your master is rethinking it and suddenly feels fine carrying that reputation.”

Wen Liuhe: “……”

Wen Liuhe tilted his head up. Amid the slowly rising mist and cloudlight, he caught the smile on Shen Yu’s lips. Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat.

It felt strange.

Shen Yu loved to smile and often did so just like this—his lips curving lazily upward, amusement spilling from his eyes, half-hidden beneath those thick, long lashes.

Wen Liuhe had seen him smile like this countless times, but his heart had never pounded this fast before. It beat quickly, hot and restless.

For some reason, Wen Liuhe suddenly thought of that snow fox. One was a stunning white-robed sword immortal from Changliu’s immortal mountains, the other a little demon hiding in the snow peaks.

If a man and a fox ever crossed paths, it would probably be the immortal slaying the beast without mercy.

Shen Yu noticed his gaze and looked over. “What is it?”

Wen Liuhe stared at him and said earnestly, “Master, you should smile less.”

Shen Yu’s smile nearly faltered. Then he heard Wen Liuhe continue, “If you smile like that every day, people might think you’re a reincarnated fox spirit. Watch out—they might catch you.”

“……” Shen Yu lifted his foot and kicked Wen Liuhe straight into the hot spring, heedless of his fresh injuries.

Wen Liuhe hadn’t seen it coming at all. Caught off guard, he choked hard on the hot water and coughed violently several times.

Shen Yu patted his hands elegantly and said, “You should talk less too.”

Wen Liuhe made no comment. He swam to the edge of the pool. His arms, beginning to show the outlines of muscle, rested on the slick stones at the spring’s edge. He looked up, about to speak, when a pile of clothes suddenly dropped onto the grass.

The fabric carried a faint fragrance from its owner, some pieces even landing on Wen Liuhe’s arm.

Clear sunlight filtered to the ground. Jade-green waves rippled in the spirit spring, steam curling around. Shen Yu undressed, leaving only a pair of snow-white undergarments to cover his long legs, and stepped into the hot spring.

His waterfall of jet-black hair draped casually over his shoulders, swaying gently with the water.

Steam swirled around him. Shen Yu slowly sat down, his shoulders emerging above the surface as he leaned his bare back against the uneven stone wall.

The warm spring water gradually relaxed his muscles. Spiritual energy coursed through his limbs. Shen Yu reached out, gathered his scattered hair, exposing the pale line of his spine. He let out a comfortable breath, closed his eyes, and said, “Come over and scrub your master’s back.”

Shen Yu’s nude form flickered in and out of view amid the rippling green waves. Wen Liuhe turned his head and could see the faint blue veins at his neck, the skin glistening with sweat or steam, rising and falling with each breath.

For some reason, Wen Liuhe’s heart raced faster and faster. He snapped irritably, “I’m injured like this, and you still want me to scrub your back?”

Shen Yu knew his temperament well. He brushed back his hair, not even bothering to open his eyes, and laughed. “Even if you were dead, you’d crawl up to scrub your master’s back.”

Wen Liuhe bristled inwardly. He planted his hands on the stone platform and leaped lithely out of the spring water. A quick scan revealed that Shen Yu had somehow taken a bath towel from his storage pouch.

The bath towel was made of soft cotton cords, its surface covered in tiny granules, neatly folded on a large green stone.

Wen Liuhe strongly suspected that Shen Yu had rescued him from the Medicine Venerable simply to avoid losing a servant. After all, on Ask Sword Peak, front and back,

Shen Yu urged him. “Not ready yet?”

“Don’t rush me. I’ve never seen a master who bosses his disciple around like this.”

Wen Liuhe scowled as he picked up the bath towel and moved behind Shen Yu. The stone platform was slightly higher than the spirit pool, so Wen Liuhe knelt on his knees atop it and took hold of the bath towel.

Shen Yushu stretched his muscles, lazily leaning against the stone wall as a trace of laughter overflowed from his throat. “Haven’t you seen it now?”

Wen Liuhe lowered his head. He knelt on the stone platform, towering a full head above the man soaking in the spring water. From this angle, he could take in the entirety of the man at a glance.

In his view, the steam condensed into a droplet at the tips of the hair beside Shen Yushu’s face. That droplet slid down along the pale blue vein bulging at his neck, tracing the smooth lines of his shoulder and neck before passing over the inner side of his collarbone, leaving a winding wet trail.

The round water bead reached the cold white chest muscle, brushing past that fresh red bud emerging from the snowy expanse.

Obstructed by it, the water bead paused for a moment before continuing downward, silkily gliding over the final stretch of pale muscular texture and vanishing into the water.

The ripples gently lapped at his chest, producing a faint sound that snapped Wen Liuhe back to his senses.