Don't Pick Up Disciples Randomly by the Roadside - Chapter 12

The fleshy worm crawled up Shen Chunyi’s wrist, across her face, and finally burrowed into Hong Yun’s inner eye corner! Hong Yun had never witnessed such a scene before. Instantly terrified out of her wits, she thrashed wildly, making it difficult even for Shen Chunyi to hold her down. Her screams were heart-wrenching, but the room had been soundproofed with a silencing spell Shen Chunyi cast earlier—no sound could possibly escape.

Shen Chunyi held her down while sighing helplessly, “Is it really that painful? It shouldn’t be, right? Are you just scared out of your mind?”

Hong Yun was on the verge of vomiting her soul in fear, let alone answering him. Struggling to break free from Shen Chunyi’s grip, she twisted her head violently, trying to shake off the worm. Yet, the gu worm clung to her face like a barbed hook, not budging an inch. In her desperate struggle, the worm completely burrowed into her skull. Hong Yun immediately went limp, collapsing to the floor like a puddle of mud.

This gu worm was something Shen Chunyi had crafted for fun while learning from his shiniang. Back then, he had encountered a type of long black threadworm that could burrow into a mantis’s abdomen, take over its consciousness, control its limbs, and command it to seek water before willingly drowning itself. Later, he wondered: if he could find a similar threadworm to refine into a gu, nourishing it day and night with his own spiritual blood, could he achieve a similar effect—making the host obey only his commands?

He eventually succeeded in creating it, but his shiniang scolded him for its cruelty, so it had never been put to use. However, raising this worm had cost Shen Chunyi too much spiritual blood—the blood it could spit out in clear water was equivalent to half a living person’s. Discarding it would have been a waste, so Shen Chunyi crafted a hollow snakeskin bracelet to store it and carried it with him.

Later, Shen Chunyi gradually discovered that this mind-controlling gu worm was quite useful for interrogation. After use, it could crawl out of the host’s skull on its own, ready for reuse—a model of frugality. Most importantly, the worm was as fine as a hair strand, causing no harm to the host. At worst, the host might need to rest in bed for a few days. Truly an ingenious tool.

Half an incense stick later, Hong Yun climbed up from the floor. Her eyes were dull and unmoving, like fish eyes, as she stood silently to the side, expressionless.

“Alright,” Shen Chunyi knew it had taken effect. He clapped his hands to draw her attention and asked, “Now, my first question: Do you know me?”

Hong Yun shook her head.

Shen Chunyi gritted his teeth and rephrased the question, “Have you seen me before?”

Hong Yun paused, then nodded.

Shen Chunyi hesitated slightly, unable to recall when he might have met her.

Time was limited, so Shen Chunyi quickly asked the third question, “Has Jiaoyun Pavilion had any strange visitors recently?”

Hong Yun shook her head and replied mechanically, “None.”

Those controlled by the gu worm could not lie to Shen Chunyi. He found it odd but pressed on with the fourth question, “Do you know someone named Shi Yun?”

This time, for some reason, Hong Yun paused for a long while before answering, “No.”

The gu worm was under Shen Chunyi’s control, and even the most iron-willed person could not lie under its influence. Yet, knowing or not knowing should be straightforward—why did she need to think about it?

Shen Chunyi couldn’t quite figure it out. After pondering for a while, he continued to ask, “The lotus by the rockery downstairs—has it been a single plant since it first sprouted?”

This time, Hongyun answered quickly, “No. That lotus was born as a twin lotus.”

This matched Shen Chunyi’s guess almost perfectly. He was absolutely certain that Xuan Shuangxu’s memory couldn’t be wrong. Aside from the twin lotus, how could two lotuses in the world grow exactly the same, with even half their features identical?

In the rockery pond they had just seen, the flower leaned to one side, not because it was wilting, but likely because another twin lotus had originally grown on the other side.

Shen Chunyi continued, “Did someone later pluck one of the flowers?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know the person who plucked it?”

“I do.”

This was strange. Since Hongyun didn’t know Shi Yun but knew the person who plucked the flower, it meant Shi Yun and the flower-plucker couldn’t be the same person. Could it be that the undying lotus in the Zhao residence had nothing to do with Shi Yun after all? It seemed he couldn’t rely solely on someone’s unusual behavior and ignore logic when thinking about the problem.

Shen Chunyi asked again, “What is this person’s name?”

Hongyun replied, “Xiao Hui.”

“Why did she pluck it?”

“It looked pretty.”

The name Xiao Hui seemed to carry a deep sense of sorrow, making one feel as though her parents hadn’t been particularly willing to bring her into this world. Perhaps the family had fallen into decline, or perhaps they had entrusted their hopes to the wrong person. In any case, something unspeakable must have happened for them to give their child such a regretful name.

Shen Chunyi had no intention of prying into others’ privacy, and since he couldn’t get any more information, he clapped his hands to call out the gu worm.

If the gu worm stayed too long inside the host’s skull, it could damage their sanity, so Shen Chunyi didn’t dare ask any more questions. After a while, a speck of red emerged from Hongyun’s ear, followed by a red thread that twisted a few times before slowly burrowing into Shen Chunyi’s snakeskin bracelet.

A little later, Hongyun slowly regained consciousness.

As soon as she saw Shen Chunyi, she let out a scream and stumbled backward, pressing herself against the wall and shrinking inward, not even bothering to pick up the shawls that had fallen all over the floor.

Shen Chunyi rubbed his nose, feeling quite guilty, and smiled, “Are you alright, miss?”

Hongyun didn’t know whether to nod or shake her head, so she did both while continuing to shrink back. Seeing how frightened she was, Shen Chunyi felt truly embarrassed. He bent down to pick up the shawls for her and prepared to take out some money to apologize. “If you’re alright, miss, please go back now. Just think of this as a little hobby of mine.”

The Jiaoyun Pavilion had seen plenty of guests with strange hobbies over the years, and Hongyun thought she had grown accustomed to it after working there for so long. But she never expected a guest who liked insects—that was just too horrifying!

As soon as Shen Chunyi allowed her to leave, Hongyun immediately stood up, didn’t even take her things, and stumbled toward the door, not caring about anything else.

Was it really that scary?

Shen Chunyi was filled with self-doubt. He had worked hard to refine the insect to look like a red thread, trying to make it appear as cute as possible, precisely because he was afraid its size would frighten others.

However, Hongyun’s answers were just too strange, with too many suspicious points that didn’t add up. Shen Chunyi sat there thinking for a long time. Although he had some guesses, he lacked evidence and didn’t dare draw any conclusions.

After pondering for a long time without reaching any conclusion, he simply tossed his outer robe aside and climbed into bed, deciding to sleep first and figure things out later. The crimson bedding was soft and silky, and as soon as he lay down, he sank into its plush comfort—truly delightful.

He slept until dusk, only waking when someone knocked on the door. Shen Chunyi stirred groggily, slipped on his boots, and shuffled over to open it. Peering out, he saw Xuanshuang Xu standing there with a food box. Noticing Shen Chunyi, Xuanshuang Xu smiled faintly and said, “Master, you just woke up?”

His tone carried a hint of amusement, but the warmth was noticeably absent.

“Mhm.” Shen Chunyi rubbed his temples to clear his head a bit. “I took a nap in the afternoon.”

Xuanshuang Xu didn’t respond. Instead, his gaze drifted past Shen Chunyi, settling on the shawl lying on the floor behind him.

“The lady at the front desk said you brought someone up here.”

He then glanced at the faint traces of rouge on Shen Chunyi’s hand.

“Ah.” Shen Chunyi finally noticed Hongyun’s shawl by the bedside. She must have been too frightened to come back for it, he thought, feeling a wave of helplessness. “I asked her a few things, but she didn’t have much to say. It was hardly worth asking.”

Xuanshuang Xu stepped past Shen Chunyi, placed the food box on the table, and opened it. His expression remained neutral, revealing neither joy nor anger. “Didn’t I say I’d handle the questioning?”

Shen Chunyi thought to himself that if Xuanshuang Xu had been the one asking, the girl would have been scared out of her wits and wouldn’t have said a word. Outwardly, however, he maintained a serious demeanor. “Most of the girls at Jiaoyun Tower were born and raised here. They can’t handle aggressive interrogation.”

Xuanshuang Xu dragged the small table over to the bedside, gesturing for Shen Chunyi to sit on the bed and eat. His tone was cool as he remarked, “Master is quite the gentleman, always so considerate of delicate flowers.”

The comment didn’t sound like a compliment—more like thinly veiled sarcasm. Shen Chunyi pretended not to notice and obediently climbed onto the bed, picking up a spoon to scoop some porridge.

The porridge was exquisitely prepared—shrimp and fish finely diced, greens minced into tiny pieces, and a few drops of sesame oil added for aroma. It looked quite appetizing. Shen Chunyi bit the spoon and praised, “This bowl is still the best. Tastier than all the dishes in this inn combined.”

The young man stared at Shen Chunyi, picked up the cup of tea Shen Chunyi had poured earlier—now completely cold—and replied with a faint, mocking smile, “How does Master know how I conduct my interrogations?”

Shen Chunyi paused, spoon in hand, and inwardly sighed. He really didn’t want to answer that question, so he deflected instead. “Then how do you conduct your interrogations?”

Xuanshuang Xu took a slow sip of tea. Before he could speak, Shen Chunyi reminded him, “There might be something in the tea.”

Instead of spitting it out, Xuanshuang Xu let out a leisurely sigh, fixed his gaze on Shen Chunyi, swallowed the tea with a deliberate roll of his throat, and then drawled in an ambiguous tone, “Master thinks something like this would affect me?”

Of course it wouldn’t! The art of seduction, perfected to its peak, belonged to fox spirits.

Xuanshuang Xu was his first disciple—a fox spirit who had mastered such arts to an almost supernatural degree.

As for the crude aphrodisiacs found in brothels and pleasure houses, they were nothing but laughable attempts in his presence—utterly insignificant and unworthy of mention.

Shen Chunyi didn’t know what to say and remained silent.

Seeing his silence, Xuanshuang Xu offered a slightly softer smile, as if genuinely inquiring. “Does Master want to know?”

Shen Chunyi replied cautiously, “Know what?”

He said slowly, “Know how I interrogate others.”

Shen Chunyi instinctively felt that he shouldn’t answer this question by following the young man’s lead—he should confidently reply that he didn’t want to.

But as soon as this thought surfaced, a distorted, thunderous warning suddenly exploded in his mind, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

Do not defy him, do not defy him, do not defy him!

Shaken by the voice, Shen Chunyi gritted his teeth, took a low, ragged breath, and said, “I do.”

He didn’t know how Xuan Shuangxu would show him, but a vague idea seemed to form in his mind. As soon as it emerged, he noticed a faint, eerie flash of reddish-gold in those dark, shadowy eyes.

Then, very slowly, Shen Chunyi remembered one thing:

Don’t look into his eyes.

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