The Immortal Lord of the Path of Ruthlessness Bends for Me - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Let Go, Ling Shu.

“Rebellious disciple.”

Zhuang Jinfu quickly regained her composure. She reached out and checked the copies of the Tao Te Ching. Not a single pass was finished. The first few pages were neat, but the later ones were a chaotic mess; there was no way they’d be ready for submission tomorrow.

She set them down and returned to her own desk to resume reviewing documents—reports on celestial phenomena, grain yields, river hydrology, and forest fire statistics. She had to analyze these alongside formations to predict natural disasters. If there was an emergency, she would depart immediately.

During times of peace, her life was relatively quiet.

Ling Shu woke up near dinner time. She looked up and saw Zhuang Jinfu already back, working at the eastern desk.

Ling Shu looked down and immediately saw her “vivid” illustration. With the subject of the drawing sitting right across from her, Ling Shu slammed the book shut with a loud thwack. She was frantically thinking of where to hide it when she noticed the copied papers on the desk were neatly stacked.

Ugh, who organized this?! It couldn’t have been Zhuang Jinfu, could it? She didn’t see it… did she?

Ling Shu tried to sneak the book into her sleeve and tiptoed toward the exit. Just as her hand reached for the door, a stern voice froze her in place.

“Stop.”

“W-what is it, Master?” Ling Shu turned back nervously.

A strand of icy spiritual power slithered into her sleeve, dragging the hidden book out. It floated in the air, encased in a layer of frost until the entire thing was frozen solid.

The book hovered before her like a piece of evidence. The ice sealed the pages, locking away her unspeakable secrets.

Ling Shu’s face burned. It had been Zhuang Jinfu who organized her papers.

“Do not let this happen again,” the Immortal said. Her words were cold, yet they carried a strange weight of leniency.

Ling Shu bit her lip, standing under Zhuang Jinfu’s emotionless gaze. The woman didn’t need to look angry to be intimidating; Ling Shu felt as though she were being judged from a great height—judged for her base, unworthy desires. Everywhere Zhuang Jinfu went, it was cold. For the first time, Ling Shu wished she weren’t so frigid.

Ling Shu stood there for a long time, silent. Zhuang Jinfu, having spoken her piece, went back to her writing as if nothing had happened.

Is that it? We’re just turning the page? Zhuang Jinfu offered no reaction, no lecture—it was as if Ling Shu’s feelings were completely insignificant to her.

Ling Shu couldn’t take the indifference. She needed an answer—acceptance or rejection, it didn’t matter, but she needed a sign. Her voice trembled as she asked, “You saw it all? You know?”

“Yes.” Zhuang Jinfu didn’t look up.

She didn’t even look up… Ling Shu felt like she was breaking. “Do you find me disgusting? Zhuang Jinfu!”

Zhuang Jinfu stopped her brush. She closed the document she was working on, placed it to the right, and picked up a new one from the left. “How do you expect me to react?”

Ling Shu’s heart was scorched with anxiety. “Are you going to kick me off the mountain?”

Zhuang Jinfu finally raised her eyes. “I never said that.”

To know she had impure thoughts and yet keep her here? To keep someone who coveted her right by her side? What was this? A display of her own magnanimity?

Ling Shu didn’t want her charity. She wanted a clean break—life or death, but not this dull knife carving away at her heart.

“Don’t you realize that this is a form of indulgence?” Ling Shu’s grip on the door tightened. The madness she usually suppressed resurfaced. She lunged to grab the frozen book, but the moment her fingertips touched it, the ice shattered, and the book turned into a flurry of confetti, falling before her like heartless snow.

Zhuang Jinfu sat there with the aura of a general over a battle map. She looked at Ling Shu and asked, “Then what should I do?”

She paused. “Throw you into the snow to kneel for three days and three nights?”

“Fine,” Ling Shu challenged, closing the distance. “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

“Stop being hysterical.” Zhuang Jinfu stood up to leave. As she tried to pass, Ling Shu grabbed her wrist. Zhuang Jinfu tried to shake her off but couldn’t. Her voice turned lethal. “Let go.”

Ling Shu’s eyes were bloodshot, brimming with repressed emotion. “What do you think I am? Crazy? I’m not. I know exactly what I’m doing. I know my thoughts are shameful. You found out, you know—so why don’t you cast me out?”

Zhuang Jinfu held up the hand Ling Shu was gripping tightly. “If you aren’t crazy, then what is this? And what was that drawing? Let go, Ling Shu.”

Ling Shu felt a sudden, violent impulse to pull the woman into an embrace, to kiss her, to break her. she fought to suppress it, but the urge fought back. She wouldn’t let go.

Ling Shu gripped her tighter, her eyes like a hawk’s. Zhuang Jinfu took an instinctive step back, but Ling Shu kept advancing. Disliking the feeling of being cornered, Zhuang Jinfu stood her ground and released a burst of spiritual power. Her wide sleeve whipped through the air, and Ling Shu was thrown to the floor.

Zhuang Jinfu left her with one final command: “Go outside the Qingxi Palace. Kneel in the snow for three days and three nights.”

“Why won’t you just get rid of me!” Ling Shu screamed at her retreating back.

There was no answer.

Outside, the midwinter cold was brutal. Ling Shu knelt in the courtyard, and within moments, a layer of snow had accumulated on her shoulders.

At dinner time, Auntie Hai came looking for them. She found the study empty of people but full of the scent of conflict. When she heard Ling Shu was kneeling outside, she hurried out with an umbrella.

“Did you make the Immortal angry?” Auntie Hai asked with a kind, puzzled smile. “She hasn’t been angry in a hundred years. How did you manage it?”

“Are you here to laugh at me?” Ling Shu snapped.

Auntie Hai knelt beside her, holding the umbrella high. “No, no. Even the Immortal makes mistakes. Tell me what happened, and I’ll go scold her for you!”

Ling Shu saw the snow landing on Auntie Hai’s shoulders and eyelashes. She pushed the umbrella back toward the older woman. “She’s not wrong. It’s my fault.”

“Even so, she shouldn’t make a child kneel in this weather! It’ll ruin your health!”

“Don’t blame her, Auntie Hai,” Ling Shu insisted stubbornly. “I provoked her. She doesn’t want to deal with me. Soon enough, I’ll be kicked off the mountain to be a wild fox again.”

Auntie Hai sighed and, seeing she couldn’t move the girl, left the umbrella behind. “I’ll go find her…”

“Don’t find her!” Ling Shu shouted. Auntie Hai fretted, but eventually waddled off toward the outer path.

An hour passed. Auntie Hai didn’t return, but a woman in regal purple robes approached. It was Wang Lifu.

“You dog,” Ling Shu spat the moment she saw her. “What are you doing here?”

Wang Lifu let out a short laugh, circling her like a predator. “Poor little dog,” she mocked.

“What did you say!!”

“I said you’re a poor little dog. I came specifically to see you look this pathetic. You’re going to be kicked out, and once you’re off the mountain, you’re a dead woman. Good. Death suits you.”

Ling Shu fumed. “I honestly don’t know what my mother saw in you. She must have been blind.”

“Yes, she was,” Wang Lifu said with a self-deprecating smirk. “Choosing me was the biggest mistake of her life.”

“Get lost, you dog!” Ling Shu yelled.

“Fine, I’m going.” Wang Lifu turned and walked away into the snow without an umbrella.

Only then did Ling Shu notice that the snow had stopped falling on her. She looked up; a pale purple umbrella was hovering above her head, sustained by a spiritual barrier that blocked the wind and cold.

“Take your umbrella and go!” Ling Shu screamed at the lonely figure disappearing into the white.

Wang Lifu didn’t turn back, only waved a hand. “Keep it. I’m pitying you.”

Ling Shu tried to snatch the umbrella to throw it away, but it was held by a level of spiritual power she couldn’t match. No matter how she pulled or where she moved, the umbrella followed her, maintaining its protection. She hated it. It felt like a mockery.

Night fell. The sky was pitch black. Ling Shu’s body heat was failing against the hours of kneeling. Her lips turned purple, and her hands went numb.

Suddenly, a tall figure came running toward the palace. It was Zhao Chi, the sturdy female disciple Ling Shu had met during the “His Majesty” incident.

“Ling Shu! Thank goodness you’re here. Li Chang is missing!”

“What happened?” Ling Shu asked, her heart sinking.

“She heard you were injured because of us and felt guilty. She went to the mountains to gather medicinal herbs for you early this morning and hasn’t come back. You’re the strongest among us—what do we do?”

“How did she know I was injured?” Ling Shu asked sharply.

“I don’t know! Wait, are you actually hurt?”

Ling Shu forced herself up. “Which mountain? Take me there.”

“Bitian Mountain,” Zhao Chi said as they ran.

“Is she stupid?” Ling Shu hissed. “Bitian Mountain is a training ground for senior cultivators. It’s full of chaotic formations. You can’t go there without a Master!”

The entrance to Bitian Mountain looked like any other forest, but the moment they stepped onto a clearing, the ground glowed. Ling Shu jumped back. She had read about the Ziwu Formation the most lethal array, designed to trap and drain the blood of demons until they were nothing but mummified husks.

Luckily, she had only stepped on a Spirit Gathering array.

“Li Chang! Li Chang, where are you?” they shouted. Zhao Chi had somehow fallen behind.

Ling Shu turned to look for her, terrified her friend might have wandered into a killing array.

Suddenly, a flash of silver light crossed her vision. A sharp blade pierced through her abdomen.

Ling Shu’s eyes widened in disbelief as she coughed up blood. “You… you lied to me…”

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