The Immortal Venerable Used Me and Then Abandoned Me - Chapter 8

Jian Zhu slept until the sun was high in the sky.

When he pushed open his door, the world was bathed in brilliant daylight; the hour for his lectures had long since passed.

He descended the mountain steps, passing through the forest of ancient parasols until he reached the Crane-Greeting Platform. Likely because he had risen so late, Huai Wang was just heading back from his morning cultivation.

The two met head-on, and Jian Zhu offered a greeting. “Immortal Venerable.”

Huai Wang didn’t even look at him, walking straight past as if to leave him behind.

Jian Zhu came to a halt. He pondered for a moment. Last night he had only given Huai Wang a smile; surely a smile didn’t count as overstepping. Or perhaps he had acted too arrogantly when he left yesterday evening, slighting the prestige of the world’s number one Immortal Venerable.

He turned his head and called out again, “Immortal Venerable.”

This time, Huai Wang stopped. “Is something the matter?”

Jian Zhu sauntered back to him. “Why is the Immortal Venerable ignoring people so early in the morning?”

Huai Wang’s gaze swept over. “Do you have no proper business to attend to?”

The implication was that he was too idle. Jian Zhu choked for a second, then played along. “And what counts as ‘proper business’?”

Huai Wang replied, “Were you not searching for someone?”

Jian Zhu blinked, surprised that Huai Wang would proactively bring the matter up. He tucked his hands into his sleeves, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his arm. “Matters of the heart cannot be forced. If he keeps hiding from me, I shall never find him.”

The sun was high, yet the air on Cang Mountain remained thin and biting.

For a moment, Huai Wang didn’t know how to respond.

After a brief, mutual silence, Jian Zhu suddenly asked with a smile, “Does the matter of the talisman arrays count as proper business?”

Huai Wang’s brow furrowed slightly. Jian Zhu continued, “There are bound to be other teleportation arrays within the Lin Yuan Sect. I happen to be skipping class today anyway, so why don’t we go look for them together?”

There was likely no one else in the world who could announce they were skipping class with such blatant honesty.

Huai Wang spared him a glance. “Let’s go.”

________________________________________

The Investigation

The back of Qianyuan Peak was a tangle of vines and branches. The lush canopy blotted out the light, and the air was thick with moisture.

Jian Zhu walked in front, treading through overgrown mud and grass. Before long, he spotted the carcass of that flowery snake, snapped in two, its colors still vivid and resistant to rot.

It seemed the direction was correct.

Huai Wang followed behind, his eyes flicking over the severed snake.

A Nine-Striped Resonant Snake. The more stripes they had, the faster they were; they weren’t of a high grade, but they were notoriously difficult to catch. The cut on the body was clean, precisely severing the “seven-inch” vital spot. The person who struck it was at least at the Spirit Severing stage or higher.

The only people who had entered Qianyuan Peak in the last two days were the batch of disciples for the entrance trial.

Huai Wang’s gaze settled on the slender, upright silhouette ahead.

Soon, the sound of gurgling water echoed through the woods. They found the spot where the array had been located, but in that mountain gully, not a single trace of the talisman array remained.

A one-way transmission, destroyed upon use.

Jian Zhu offered Huai Wang a sincere look. “You have to believe me; I don’t have the capability to teleport into your Cang Mountain barrier on my own.”

Huai Wang gave him a chilly look. “Have you tried?”

Jian Zhu: “…Of course not.”

Huai Wang turned. “Let us search elsewhere.”

Jian Zhu followed, thinking to himself that Huai Wang was playing psychological warfare with him.

From Qianyuan Peak to the front mountain and several side peaks, they searched until the sun began to dip. The setting sun cast long, slanting shadows of trees against the ground. Finally, near the Forbidden Grounds, they found another array.

The area was deserted, the air stagnant, and a creeping chill seeped out from the Forbidden Grounds.

Jian Zhu pulled his lapels closer, instinctively moving a bit nearer to Huai Wang.

With their shoulders nearly touching, Huai Wang moved aside to create space. “How did you do it last time?”

“Just shatter the barrier.”

Huai Wang watched him with an air of “after you.”

Jian Zhu: “?”

Huai Wang: “Aren’t you going to start?”

“…” Jian Zhu suppressed the urge to hit him. Spiritual power gathered in his palm, and with a rumble, he shattered the barrier!

A blinding white light erupted. In the moment before being enveloped, he suddenly reached out and grabbed Huai Wang’s belt. Huai Wang’s robes came loose as he tried to pull away, but his brow twitched, and he allowed the former to yank him into the light.

A heartbeat later.

Thud! A dull sound. Jian Zhu’s back slammed into the cold, hard floor tiles. A heavy body pressed down on top of him, and strands of cool hair fell into his collar, tangling with his own.

Huai Wang quickly propped himself up.

Jian Zhu was dazed from the impact, his hand still clutching Huai Wang’s belt. The man above him had his robes splayed open, his perfectly toned abdomen vanishing into the fabric below, while his strong, muscular arms were braced on either side.

A very familiar perspective.

Clink. The sound of porcelain snapping against a cup jolted him awake.

Two paces away, the Sect Leader was sitting in a chair. He was holding a tea set, but the lid had fallen into the water, splashing a few drops onto his beard.

The Sect Leader was slack-jawed. “What… what are the two of you doing?”

Jian Zhu: “…”

I swear this plot was written by Jiang Chaoyun.

He had only wanted to stop Huai Wang from being a leisurely bystander; he hadn’t expected them to crash straight into the Sect Leader’s bedroom.

Two heartbeats passed. Huai Wang’s gaze fell upon the hand clutching his belt, his eyes bone-chillingly cold. A frosty aura began to permeate the room. “Let go.”

Jian Zhu snapped back to his senses and released his grip with feigned composure. “There was a lag.”

The two rose under the Sect Leader’s complicated gaze. Huai Wang raised his hand to fasten his robes while Jian Zhu lowered his head to smooth out his sleeves.

Setting down his tea cup, the Sect Leader asked in bewilderment, “Immortal Venerable, what exactly is going on?”

The icy chill around Huai Wang hadn’t fully dissipated. “We were sparring.”

The Sect Leader began to ponder the logical connection between “sparring” and “landing in my bedroom.”

Seeing that Huai Wang had no intention of telling the truth, Jian Zhu automatically filled in the blanks for him. “My hand slipped; I accidentally threw a teleportation talisman.”

Master Wei Yi was skeptical: Teleportation talismans aren’t cheap. Just how badly did his hand have to slip? But seeing that Huai Wang remained silent, seemingly consenting to the lie, he didn’t question further.

Huai Wang finished adjusting his clothes and didn’t linger, walking straight out the door. Jian Zhu followed close behind.

When they emerged, the young page outside the door jumped in surprise and bowed to Huai Wang. “Greetings, Immortal Venerable!”

Huai Wang gave a short acknowledgement and took flight back to Cang Mountain, vanishing like a streak of light. Under the page’s curious gaze, Jian Zhu flicked his sleeves and followed at a speed that rivaled Huai Wang’s.

…

Cang Mountain, Crane-Greeting Platform

A white light descended, robes fluttering as Huai Wang landed at the cliff’s edge.

The moment Jian Zhu landed behind him, Huai Wang turned around, the coldness in his eyes sharper than the frost and snow of the mountain. “There will not be a next time.”

“To what is the Immortal Venerable referring?”

“You tell me.”

After two beats of silence, Jian Zhu spoke, “It was a lapse in decorum on my part.”

The sharp aura softened slightly; the matter was dropped for now. Huai Wang turned back toward the courtyard. “I saw the array clearly.”

Jian Zhu gave a soft “oh” and paced after him.

Huai Wang continued, “It is indeed an array under the Yingzhou faction, set by at least a Spirit Severing stage cultivator.”

“What has been happening in Yingzhou lately?”

“The revival of spiritual energy.”

This wasn’t exactly a secret; news would likely spread throughout the Nine Provinces soon, and a swarm of cultivators would follow. Logically, the revival of spiritual energy was a good thing, but there was no joy in Huai Wang’s voice.

Jian Zhu mused, “What are your thoughts on this, Immortal Venerable?”

Huai Wang replied flatly, “I do not know.”

In the middle of their conversation, they reached the courtyard gate. Huai Wang pushed the door open and—SLAM!—shut it right in Jian Zhu’s face. Jian Zhu stared at the closed door, feeling the dust puff against his skin.

After a long moment, Jian Zhu let out a light chuckle and turned to leave.

It wasn’t that Huai Wang didn’t know; he just didn’t trust Jian Zhu enough to tell him.

________________________________________

The Penalty

Having skipped class for a day, Jian Zhu was caught by Hui Yu the very next morning.

Today was a practical combat lesson. Disciples of several realms were gathered together, taught by the three Elders: Hui Yu, Dong Ying, and Gui Ting. While the latter two were instructing on the field, Jian Zhu was hauled to the sidelines by Hui Yu. “You skipped class yesterday without cause. Do you have an explanation!”

Jian Zhu: “I got lost.”

Hui Yu: “…”

Seeing that Hui Yu was about to dig deeper, and not wanting him to investigate the truth, Jian Zhu sighed and proactively admitted fault. “Please punish me as you see fit, Elder.”

His rare cooperation made Hui Yu suspect he was up to some new trick. Their exchange wasn’t hidden from the other disciples, and most people on the field were stealing glances their way.

Hui Yu said sternly, “I shall punish you according to the sect rules. One stroke of the ruler for every half-hour of absence. You skipped four hours yesterday; you shall receive eight strokes.”

Jian Zhu held out his palm. “Yes.”

The disciplinary rulers of the Lin Yuan Sect were forged from thorn-iron. They wouldn’t damage bone or sinew, but they were agonizingly painful when they hit flesh. Hui Yu drew the ruler, stared at Jian Zhu’s palm for a few seconds, then raised his hand and struck—Smack!

The sound echoed across the training grounds, and everyone fell silent. Even the disciples sparring in the center stopped to look over, expressions of pity on their faces.

When the thorn-iron hit the skin, it was a piercing, heart-drilling pain.

Jian Zhu couldn’t hold back a muffled groan at the first strike, his spine shivering slightly. A startling red welt immediately appeared on his palm.

Standing nearby, Jiang Chaoyun flinched in sympathy: the secondhand pain was so strong he already felt like he was hurting.

Jiang Yin was secretly delighted. Seeing Jian Zhu punished made him feel wonderful; who told Jian Zhu to make him unhappy before? He turned to the fellow disciples around him and whispered, “In our sect, the grudge between Jian Zhu and Elder Hui Yu is probably the deepest.”

A disciple who had heard rumors added, “I heard Elder Hui Yu didn’t want him to join the sect in the first place.”

Jiang Yin said, “If there weren’t something wrong with him, why would an Elder go out of his way to trouble a single person?”

His companions nodded, finding some logic in that.

…

After the eight strokes were finished, Hui Yu withdrew his hand. “Commit this to heart. Let there be no next time.”

“Thank you, Elder.” His wide disciple sleeve fell, covering his palm. Jian Zhu’s expression remained unchanged as he turned to return to the ranks.

Jiang Chaoyun ran over. “Does it hurt?”

Jian Zhu looked at him, and Jiang Chaoyun immediately realized he’d asked a stupid question.

“It’s fine, though,” Jian Zhu said. Although Hui Yu was biased against him, he had followed the rules strictly just now and hadn’t used any hidden internal force.

Jiang Chaoyun breathed a sigh of relief. “Why exactly did you skip yesterday? You have no idea—while you were being punished, I think Jiang Yin wanted to set off fireworks in celebration.”

Jian Zhu denied it. “Impossible. Fireworks and crackers are prohibited within the sect.”

“…” Jiang Chaoyun stalled, then leaned in close to whisper, “Anyway, watch out for Jiang Yin. He’s spreading rumors everywhere that your identity is suspicious. A lot of people believe him and are afraid to get close to you. But there are also plenty of people with eyes who had a great first impression of you.”

“Then he’s simply helping me filter the quality of my social circle.”

Jiang Chaoyun was distressed. “Stop giving me these ‘glass half full’ answers!”

As they spoke, someone approached. The young man had a square, honest face and wore his disciple uniform with perfect neatness. He said to Jian Zhu, “Is the wound painful? I have high-quality medicinal salve here. If you need it, please don’t be a stranger.”

Jian Zhu didn’t recognize him. “Thank you, but I have some of my own.”

The young man nodded, offered a few more words of comfort, and turned to leave.

After he was gone, Jiang Chaoyun’s nostrils flared in shock. “How do you know the Sect Leader’s First Senior Disciple?!”

Jian Zhu stepped aside to avoid the air puffing from Jiang Chaoyun’s flared nostrils. “I don’t know him. It’s the first time we’ve met.”

Jiang Chaoyun deflated. “I guess Senior Brother Luo is just a good guy doing some charity work.”

Jian Zhu clapped. “No wonder he’s the Head Disciple. Such magnanimity, such poise.”

Jiang Chaoyun clapped along. “It’s practically a level of grace that belongs in the history books!”

“…”

The day’s lectures came to an end, and Jian Zhu returned to Cang Mountain in the evening.

The weather was wonderful today; the afterglow was a brilliant wash of gold and crimson, making Cang Mountain look like melting gold and shimmering stones.

The welts he had received earlier that day were spread glaringly across his entire palm—vivid red marks oozing tiny beads of blood. He held his palm open to let the air cool it; under the reddish-gold sunset, the injuries looked even more gruesome.

Jian Zhu spent the whole walk focused on his hand, only noticing Huai Wang when he reached the edge of the ancient parasol forest. The latter’s wide sleeves hung at his sides; under the warm light, he seemed a little less unapproachable.

Jian Zhu stopped. “Immortal Venerable?”

Huai Wang’s gaze fell upon him. The thorn-iron ruler was a tool specifically used by the sect for punishing disciples; he recognized the wounds at a single glance.

His eyes moved from the injury to Jian Zhu’s face. “Why did you not explain yourself?”