Under the quilt, Master’s face remained as cool and handsome as ever. But a distinct hand with well-defined knuckles slapped him straight across the face.
Slap!
Duansxue Peak was utterly silent, buried under a night of heavy snow. From the warm little hut emerged a crisp sound.
Lu Yun Ting knelt astride Xun Ji, dumbly cradling his cheek. This was the first time Master had hit him.
It didn’t hurt much, but though it landed on his face, it felt like a sting right in his heart.
Xun Ji sneaked a glance. He seemed to have smacked the sense out of him, but desperate times called for extreme measures. After last night, it was clear Lu Yun Ting harbored some resentment. His attitude was no longer as deferential as before, yet in action, he diligently worked to restore his lifespan, showing no signs of awakening or fleeing.
“Lu Yun Ting, look clearly—who am I!” His voice was stern. “I am not your little Junior Sister Su Yanran, nor your friend Liu Xun from the mortal world, nor some Silver Little Snake demon.”
“Since last night, you’ve seemed unable to recognize reality, disrespectful to your elders, acting recklessly! As for my lifespan, I have my own ways to handle it. No need for a junior like you to meddle! The dual cultivation method is forbidden from now on!”
Xun Ji flipped them over, pinning him beneath. But this motion caused them to connect even deeper, and Xun Ji clearly felt Lu Yun Ting involuntarily spasm once.
Xun Ji inwardly collapsed. What kind of posture is this for a master scolding his disciple?! But withdrawing now would seem even stranger!
Pretending not to notice, he steeled himself and finished, “Your master was negligent in disciplining you before, but from now on, if you disobey again or act on your own, you will be severely punished!”
Lu Yun Ting felt the pulsing within him belonging to another person, his gaze filled with the marks they had left on each other last night.
“How severely?” he asked softly. “Will Master hit me again?”
“Of course.” Xun Ji was extremely serious. “Not only hit you, but scold you, torment you, imprison you, make your life a living hell!”
So hurry up and flee down the mountain! Protagonist, do you even realize you’ve been messing around without even leaving the newbie village?!
“I understand.” Lu Yun Ting bent his legs, slowly rubbing upward bit by bit, his back against the bed as he shifted up and down.
“Master staying still like this must be tormenting this disciple…” Hot breath poured into his ear, Lu Yun Ting’s voice oddly pleased. “This disciple knows his mistake. Master, give me a quick end, alright?”
Xun Ji, rubbed to the point of discomfort: “…?”
“Master smells so good…” That slap must have flipped some switch. Lu Yun Ting’s actions grew increasingly bold. Wet kisses spread from his ear to Xun Ji’s neck, chin, and finally paused tentatively at the flushed lips.
Cold Fragrance wafted faintly, all too familiar. He should have realized it long ago—why had it taken him until now?
The slapped cheek tingled, and Lu Yun Ting’s heart itched along with it.
His master, proud and lofty, pure and unsullied, who had always disdained him—had dressed as a woman for him, acted spoiled toward him, pretended to be a good-for-nothing to stay by his side, offered his body to relieve him. Even got angry and hit him for using a technique that harmed his own body…
Why?
A thought he had never dared to entertain bubbled up uncontrollably.
Why did Xiao Mei and Xiao Cui help Xiao Shuai without asking for anything in return? The answer was obvious, wasn’t it?
—All for love.
Xun Ji: “…” Oh no, the protagonist really got smacked silly. Babbling nonsense and now grinning like an idiot.
In the strange atmosphere, a golden rune suddenly flew into the hut.
Xun Ji smacked Lu Yun Ting hard. “Look! It’s the Sect Leader’s Transmission Talisman from Pingxu Peak!”
Xun Ji had never felt Yulan Zhenren so useful. Sending a Transmission Talisman that Lu Yun Ting cherished most at the perfect moment—this task-obsessed brain would drop everything to handle it, finally freeing him from this awkward situation!
Lu Yun Ting casually sent out a sword qi, spinning the rune around before it pitifully drifted to the ground and stilled.
“Master is angry and punishing this disciple—how can external matters disturb us?” Lu Yun Ting’s voice was somewhat breathless, but his movements grew larger, forcing Xun Ji to exert force to match.
The bamboo couch rocked lightly, echoing with Lu Yun Ting’s sticky sounds in the sealed snowy hut.
“This disciple is of Duansxue Peak, so Duansxue Peak matters come first. Master, torment this disciple until you’re satisfied today, alright?”
…Yulan Zhenren, you useless trash.
Yulan Zhenren glanced up at the sky. It was dusk, with colorful clouds filling Pingxu Peak—a beautiful sight.
“The Transmission Talisman sent this morning—you only received it now, Yun Ting?” he asked, puzzled.
“Reporting to Sect Leader, this disciple was occupied with Duansxue Peak matters and overlooked it momentarily.” Lu Yun Ting bowed, his voice somewhat hoarse.
“Why is your throat hoarse?” Yulan Zhenren asked with concern. “Sect matters are important, but don’t wear yourself out.”
Hadn’t he worn himself out? Xun Ji sneered inwardly. After the Forget Worry Curse failed, this little bastard was transformed, trying every trick played or unplayed. Last night he at least focused on the Dual Cultivation Secret Technique; today it was pure dual cultivation—the kind that felt good but didn’t increase cultivation at all.
By the time Xun Ji realized he didn’t need to indulge him, it was too late. The little bastard massaged him, helped him dress, then hypocritically turned the tables: “Has Master vented his anger?”
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