After Being Forced Into This Obsessive Love, the Master Is Starting to Get a Little Hooked - Chapter 11

“Well, we thought Master Shi Changting was not coming.”

As soon as Shi Changting entered the great hall, he heard the First Elder’s sarcastic voice. He glanced around casually and noticed that, aside from the Fifth Elder who was obsessed with alchemy, all the other elders were present.

“What are you saying,” the Second Elder chimed in. “It was Master Shi Changting who insisted on enduring thirty lashes to save Bian Menghan. Now that something has happened, how could he possibly stay out of it and remain indifferent?”

“Exactly. It would make our Master Shi Changting seem quite irresponsible.”

Shi Changting frowned. His tone was light and breezy, and he did not even spare them a glance. “The two elders are right. It is my lack of foresight and inability to judge character. I am incompetent.”

The First and Second Elders were stunned. They did not expect him to admit it so quickly. What were they supposed to say now? Shi Changting was not following the script.

Shi Changting then added coldly, “Since that is the case, why do you not, First Elder, lead a team, with the Second Elder assisting, to capture him and bring him back?”

With that single statement, he accepted the blame and assigned them the task. As a figure whose status was second only to the Sect Master, Shi Changting had the authority according to sect rules to assign missions to anyone other than the Sect Master himself.

Shi Changting’s internal monologue: Damn it! I have been acting like a subservient grandson to people lately, and I am sick of it! You dare to provoke me? If you are so capable, why do you not go catch him yourself!

The First Elder was taken aback. “Ah?”

Shi Changting continued his offensive, leaving the other side with no room to fight back. “The First Elder is eloquent, clever, quick-witted, and possesses great foresight and strategy. Going down the mountain this time, you will surely be invincible.”

Shi Changting rattled off every idiom he could recall like a machine gun, fearing that he might not overwhelm the other party.

The First Elder had only intended to use the situation to suppress Shi Changting; he did not actually want to go catch him. The land of the Demon Race. He shuddered violently. He hurriedly looked to Lan Qiao for help. “Sect Master, I actually did not mean…” He did not want to steal Shi Changting’s job.

“Enough.” Lan Qiao’s voice was low as he spoke to interrupt them. “Stop arguing.”

“Changting, since Bian Menghan is your disciple and he has escaped while taking the God-Slaying Sword, it is only right that you personally handle this matter and purge the sect.”

That was exactly what he wanted.

Shi Changting put on a somber expression, his face full of annoyance as if he were truly hurt by the betrayal. “Do not worry, Sect Master. I will head down the mountain today and ensure the sect receives a satisfactory explanation.”

Lan Qiao looked at them one by one with a hint of pressure, then squinted and slowly said, “Good. We will wait for your good news.”

That same night, Shi Changting packed his belongings and headed down the mountain.

However, while everyone in the sect expected him to be headed toward a fierce battle to capture Bian Menghan, he was actually in a town restaurant, eating until his face was covered in grease.

“Waiter, bring two more dishes.”

“I want the restaurant’s signature dishes.”

“Coming right up, sir.”

“And bring two jars of good wine.”

“Right away.”

Shortly after, the waiter saw a figure in white robes, so beautiful that everything around him seemed to dim. He looked like an immortal being, yet he was drinking heavily and eating like a starved ghost, as if he had never had a meal in his life.

Shi Changting had long since achieved Bigu and did not need to eat, but ever since he transmigrated, his mouth had been incredibly bland, and he was craving food intensely. Thus, he had run to the restaurant to indulge.

Capture someone? Capture whom? He had no intention of capturing anyone.

The road is wide, so let us walk our separate ways. Isn’t that better?

After a while, he would simply return to report his mission, claiming that he was incompetent and could not catch him, and suggest they send someone else. By then, Bian Menghan’s strength and influence in the Demon Race would surely have developed to a point where he would not fear anyone they sent.

Simply put, Shi Changting took on this task only to buy Bian Menghan time to develop.

Having made up his mind, Shi Changting began his state-funded vacation. Every day consisted of nothing but eating and sleeping, living a life of early retirement.

This lasted for about a month. Just as Shi Changting felt it was time to return and report back, he was soundly asleep late one night when a frantic, shrill sound suddenly rang out in his mind.

[Alert! Alert! Alert!]

[Danger is approaching! Danger is approaching! Danger is approaching!]

Shi Changting woke up groggily. “Hmm? What roast chicken?”

[To hell with the roast chicken!] The system shouted at the top of its voice. [Host, that plague god of yours is here! If you do not run now, prepare to collect your own corpse!]

Shi Changting snapped awake. What? Bian Menghan is here? Why is he here!

The system was always calm, serious, and concise. He had never seen it so sharp and severe since transmigrating, which showed how serious the situation was.

Shi Changting did not have time to think; he rolled out of bed and ran toward the door. However, when he opened the door, his breath hitched. He froze, his blood seemingly congealing and his heartbeat nearly stopping.

He slammed the door shut. “I must have opened the door the wrong way,” Shi Changting muttered.

He shook his head violently, took a deep breath, and opened the door once again.

Late at night, Bian Menghan stood against the moonlight, covered in blood. The blood dripped from the ends of his hair onto the floor. His expression was that of a demon from the eighteenth level of hell: gloomy, cold, cruel, and bloodthirsty, enough to make one shudder at a single glance.

Shi Changting turned pale. “You, you, you. What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?”

Bian Menghan’s voice was crisp and clear, sounding in Shi Changting’s ear like the whispering of a demon. “I am here to… you.”

Shi Changting felt as if he had been struck by lightning. He staggered back several steps, his body trembling like chaff.

What! What did he say!

I must still be asleep! I must be dreaming! How could this person in front of me be his gentle, big-eyed, adorable disciple!

Something was wrong! Everything was wrong! What is happening!

Shi Changting trembled all over, his legs weak, not knowing if it was from anger or fear. “You bastard! I am your Master!”

Bian Menghan chuckled at this. The blood slid down his pale face, and in the moonlight, it took on an indescribably demonic beauty. In that moment, Shi Changting saw a kind of evil charm in that smile that only existed in novels.

Bian Menghan’s voice was hoarse as he followed up smoothly, “Then, Master, will you not invite me inside to sit?”