The Possessive Beauty Desires Me in Vain - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Encounter

The Xingzhou Sect was once the preeminent power in the cultivation world, situated atop the Samuel Mountain Range.

The area was sparsely populated but rich in spiritual essence and natural resources—a true blessed land and celestial grotto.

The Samuel Mountains in mid-winter resembled a vast, silent scroll of ink-wash painting.

The boundless, desolate sky, the layers of silver-bright snow-capped ridges, and the wheeling twilight birds—all dissolved into a singular expanse of white.

Only the eaves of the pavilions jutting from the cliffside added touches of ink to this bleached world.

The heavy snow had buried the winding mountain paths. Gone were the scenes of cultivators bowing to one another; only a profound loneliness remained.

Treading through the snow, Chen Hexuan had just entered the mountain gate’s protective barrier when the heavy, muffled thuds of the evening drum rang out. One strike followed another, shattering the tranquility of the surrounding miles.

The evening drum and the morning bell were relics of antiquity, said to have been established a millennium ago at the sect’s founding. They seemed elderly and tottering—like two steady, taciturn elders silently observing and guarding the Xingzhou Sect.

As the final resonance of the bell faded, a bustle of noise broke out—the disciples were being dismissed from their evening lessons.

Those walking on foot were in the Qi Refining stage; those soaring on flying swords were at Foundation Establishment; and those riding spiritual pets were of the Golden Core stage.

For a moment, robes fluttered between the peaks. The white robes of the Xingzhou Sect drifted like clouds and mist, visible in glimpses.

While Chen Hexuan surveyed the surroundings, his presence had already been noticed.

A cluster of two or three youths on flying swords glided through the clouds, savoring the thrill of the cold wind, when one looked down and noticed a lone figure walking slowly past the gate.

“Look, who is that?” the youth asked his companions.

Seeing Chen Hexuan walking on the snow, another replied, “Just someone at the Qi Refining stage who hasn’t even reached Foundation Establishment. What’s so special about that?”

The third youth, however, noticed something different. He squinted and said, “It’s different. Look at those in the Qi Refining stage—they leave footprints in the snow. But look where he walks; there isn’t a single mark.”

The youth who first spoke asked curiously, “Could that be what the elders mentioned—’Light-Gliding Traversal,’ which only those at the Nascent Soul stage or above can achieve?”

Chen Hexuan averted his gaze. Flickers of memory surfaced, reminding him of his own spirited youth.

He used to fly straight with a few close friends after the morning bell or evening drum. They weren’t competing for height or speed, but rather racing to see who could reach the dining hall first to grab food.

He had always flown steadily, rarely bumping into others, though he often saw the others crashing through sword formations and crowds.

Back then, they had no worries; their heads were filled only with complex spells and what they would eat that day.

At the thought, a bitter smile tugged at the corner of Chen Hexuan’s mouth.

Guided by muscle memory, Chen Hexuan arrived before a towering pavilion that pierced the clouds.

Wreaths of mist encircled the structure, revealing only a glimpse of a high-upturned eave where the clouds thinned.

A young attendant guarding the tower yawned. Seeing Chen Hexuan approach, he asked sleepily, “Who are you, and what is your business?”

“Disciple Chen Hexuan, here to visit the Sect Master.” Chen Hexuan immediately presented his waist token.

Seeing the words “First White” engraved on the token, the attendant snapped awake. He immediately bowed with cupped hands. “Greetings, Big Senior Brother.”

Chen Hexuan stopped him and smiled. “No need for such formality, Junior Brother. Please lead me to the Sect Master.”

The attendant brought Chen Hexuan to a pavilion and sat him down. As he reached for the tea set to brew tea, Chen Hexuan intervened.

Chen Hexuan smiled and said, “Let me brew it. I used to brew tea for the Master; it has been a long time since he tasted my tea.”

The attendant stopped and went to a set of tall doors, knocking softly.

A lingering voice immediately drifted from within: “What is it?”

The attendant said, “Sect Master, Big Senior Brother has arrived.”

After a long pause, a deep sigh echoed from inside.

Chen Hexuan set down the tea tools and stood up just as the doors opened. “Master arrives at the perfect time; the tea is just ready.”

The newcomer was a tall, middle-aged man dressed in simple silver robes. He had regular features and eyes that sparkled with spirit. The slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes gave him a look of great kindness and warmth. However, his hair was entirely white, and a white beard reached down to his chest.

“Hexuan,” Pu Xuefeng stepped forward and clapped Chen Hexuan firmly on the shoulder. “It has been a long time. I have missed your tea dearly.”

Chen Hexuan said guiltily, “It is this disciple’s fault. I should have come to see Master sooner.”

“You silly boy,” Pu Xuefeng pressed down firmly on Chen Hexuan’s shoulder. “There is no ‘fault’ in this. Just seeing you again makes me happy enough.”

Both men sighed inwardly, instinctively avoiding a certain topic.

Master and disciple sat opposite each other at the small table.

Chen Hexuan picked up the teapot and poured a cup for Pu Xuefeng. “Master, try it. How is the flavor?”

Pu Xuefeng took a sip, and the fragrance filled his mouth. “Better than before. Your skill has improved.”

Chen Hexuan poured a cup for himself, taking a small sip. “Master, you’re just humoring me. The taste is ordinary; I haven’t brewed tea in years.”

Pu Xuefeng frowned. “You don’t believe me? When have I ever lied?”

Mist drifted over the tea table.

Pu Xuefeng set his cup down, looking troubled. He asked hesitantly, “These past years… how have you fared?”

Chen Hexuan’s expression grew desolate. The veins on the hand gripping his teacup bulged. A self-mocking smile touched his face as he said slowly, “I was… alright.”

Pu Xuefeng said indignantly, “Did that brat Qi Yu bully you? If you say the word, I will personally storm the Demon Realm and drag him back for you to punish as you see fit.”

“No. He only sealed my spiritual meridians and forbade me from using power,” Chen Hexuan glossed over the subject.

In truth, it was far more than that. Seven years—over two thousand five hundred days and nights—had been seared into Chen Hexuan’s soul. He knew deep down he was no longer the same person.

Chen Hexuan’s face clouded with worry, and he asked urgently, “How is Master’s health? Have the injuries from before healed?”

Pu Xuefeng also leaned into the change of subject, his voice booming again: “No matter, no matter! My cultivation hasn’t dropped; in fact, it has progressed.”

Chen Hexuan could see the smooth flow of spiritual energy within Pu Xuefeng. His meridians were even more powerful than they had been seven years ago. Realizing his Master was not only fine but had made a breakthrough, joy finally touched Chen Hexuan’s face.

Pu Xuefeng continued, “Now that you’re back, you’ll stay, won’t you?”

Caught off guard, Chen Hexuan felt his mind grow cluttered and restless. He hadn’t decided how to answer. Should he stay at Xingzhou to help his Master manage the sect, or choose another path?

Seeing Chen Hexuan’s conflicted expression, Pu Xuefeng comforted him: “If you haven’t decided, take your time. This old body of mine can still sit in this seat for a few more years.”

Then, Pu Xuefeng’s tone turned heavy. “I received a letter from your Junior Brother Mingxu a few days ago. He said you often fall into dreams—what is that about?”

Chen Hexuan froze, then gave a bitter smile. “How could he tell you about that? It’s nothing major, just a small issue.”

Pu Xuefeng looked at him with a gaze of kind scrutiny and sighed. “How can it not be a major issue? A cultivator of your level has no need for sleep; cultivation alone sustains the body’s functions.”

“Falling into dreams during cultivation means you can’t even practice normally right now. To hide such a thing from me…” Pu Xuefeng stroked his beard with frustrated affection.

Chen Hexuan wore a helpless look and laughed. “Truly, nothing escapes Master’s eyes.”

“I saw it the moment I laid eyes on you,” Pu Xuefeng said sternly. “Spiritual energy in disarray, blocked meridians, cracks in your Nascent Soul, and damage to your internal organs… is this not serious?”

“You are currently my only remaining personal disciple. How can I feel at ease leaving the Xingzhou Sect to you?” Pu Xuefeng couldn’t help but sigh deeply.

Before Chen Hexuan could speak, Pu Xuefeng interrupted him: “Enough. Once I unseal the Nine Pools of Fortune, you will go into seclusion there to recover for a while.”

He gave Chen Hexuan a long look. “As for your dreams, I will search the ancient records. If that fails, I’ll go bother the other old geezers.”

“Thank you, Master. I…” Chen Hexuan’s voice trembled with genuine joy and emotion.

“No need for thanks,” Pu Xuefeng stood up and squeezed his shoulder. “Just don’t make excuses when I ask you to help manage the sect later.”

“By the way, where is your sword? Why aren’t you carrying it?” Pu Xuefeng looked at his waist, where his sword usually hung. “I remember telling you: the sword is the man, and the man is the sword. If the sword is lost, the man is lost.”

Chen Hexuan frowned. “That sword became… dirty. I decided to replace it. I’ve already commissioned someone to forge a new one.”

“If it’s dirty, wipe it!” Pu Xuefeng felt his blood pressure rise. “The sword you chose yourself is the one most attuned to you in this world, and you want to replace it… Honestly, did you come here today just to provoke me?”

Chen Hexuan lowered his head, pressing his hand to his brow. He said despondently, “Master, do you know whose blood is on it?”

Before Pu Xuefeng could answer, he continued, “It’s Qi Yu’s blood. No matter how much I wipe it, I can’t get it clean.”

“I used that sword… to kill him.”

“He is dead?” Pu Xuefeng’s face suddenly went blank.

“I killed him with my own hands,” Chen Hexuan said, trying his best to keep his voice cold and controlled.

“Hexuan, you are kind-hearted. None of this is your fault; Qi Yu got what he deserved.” A complex emotion flashed across Pu Xuefeng’s face before his voice turned lamenting. “Actually, it is all my fault. If I hadn’t insisted on bringing him here all those years ago, it wouldn’t have ended like this.”

“I saw him as a pitiable creature and brought him back. But I truly never imagined it would come to this…”

“It didn’t just hurt the Xingzhou Sect; it ruined you.”

Pu Xuefeng’s voice gradually became muffled in the whistling north wind.

…

The plot thickens! Pu Xuefeng’s reaction to Qi Yu’s death is quite… interesting. “Complex” might be an understatement.