The Sect Leader Raised a Fox to His Own Detriment - Chapter 4

A-Yin slept until the sun was high in the sky. When he woke up, he realized he was draped in a garment that didn’t belong to him. The fabric was clean and snow-white, delicate and exquisite, with faint, neatly stitched peach blossom patterns embroidered into the material.

“This… Eldest Senior Brother must have put this on me, right?” Clutching the plain white robe in his arms, A-Yin began to smile happily. Even if his Master didn’t dote on him, he still had his Senior Brother!

At the thought of Yue Xichen, the smile on A-Yin’s face gradually faded. He touched his lips, recalling the image of Yue Xichen forcibly feeding him the peach blossom cake.

Master’s fingers… they didn’t taste salty!

He stuck out his tongue and gave his own finger a lick. In A-Yin’s memory, human fingers were supposed to be bitter and salty, but Yue Xichen’s were an exception—they were sweet. “Maybe it was just because of the peach blossom cake,” he murmured to himself.

His big, watery eyes darted around as he plotted. Since he couldn’t resist Yue Xichen and had to eat the cake, he could use a “detour” tactic. He would vomit the cakes back up afterward, just like last night. That way, he wouldn’t offend Yue Xichen, but he could still cultivate properly and one day become a peerless genius like Lin Fengfei.

“But…” A-Yin’s newfound ambition suddenly deflated. “I acted like that toward Master yesterday. Will he be angry and make things difficult for me?”

“What did you say your Master would do?”

Suddenly, Yue Xichen appeared behind him, giving A-Yin a massive fright.

“Ma, Ma, Master…” A-Yin hurriedly cupped his hands to pay his respects.

“Why are you here instead of cultivating at this hour?” Yue Xichen hadn’t intended to blame him, but perhaps because his voice was cold and his expression icy, A-Yin looked like a scolded child. He hunched his shoulders and lowered his head in silence.

Yue Xichen’s thin lips moved as he took a light, silent breath, offering no explanation. “Aren’t you going?”

“Dis—Disciple obeys!” A-Yin turned to run, but Yue Xichen barked another order.

“Stop.”

Freezing in place, A-Yin kept his back to Yue Xichen. He sensed his Master approaching step by step, and his heart skipped a beat. Is Master going to punish me? Just as the thought crossed his mind, the snow-white robe he was clutching was pulled away by Yue Xichen.

“Go.”

…Huh?

A-Yin blinked at Yue Xichen and pointed at the confiscated robe. “Master, that clothing is…”

Yue Xichen said nothing, merely lifting his eyelids. His gaze was like frost. A-Yin immediately shut his mouth, thinking to himself: Master will probably return it to Eldest Senior Brother for me, right?

Only after A-Yin had walked far away did Yue Xichen put the snow-white robe—which actually belonged to himself back on.

After several days of anxiety, A-Yin realized Yue Xichen was treating him exactly as before cold as ice, but not going out of his way to be difficult. He figured that since Yue Xichen was a high-level cultivator, he likely wouldn’t stoop to his level.

During the next few sessions, he stopped resisting and obediently swallowed the peach blossom cakes, only to run to the latrine afterward to find any way possible to vomit them up. Though the process was agonizing, he felt it was worth it to become stronger and stop being looked down upon. So far, Yue Xichen hadn’t noticed a thing.

Today, the Celestial Pond was opened, allowing inner disciples of Lingyun Mountain to absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to boost their cultivation. The pond was located at the summit of the South Peak, and disciples had to fly there on their swords. Among all the inner disciples, A-Yin was the only one who hadn’t mastered sword-flight.

“A-Yin, just fly with me!” Zhan Ning was the first to offer an olive branch. A-Yin didn’t stand on ceremony; every time they went to the pond, he rode on Zhan Ning’s sword.

Lingyun Mountain’s resources were distributed fairly based on merit. Because A-Yin had been at Qi Refining Level 1 for ten years, he used a beginner-level rusty sword. That sword had been snapped during the North-South competition. Though he could have exchanged it for a new one, he insisted on keeping the broken pieces to remind himself of the shame. Regardless, whether the sword was rusty or broken, he couldn’t fly it anyway.

Standing on Zhan Ning’s sword, A-Yin soared into the clouds, feeling like a great swan spreading its wings. Though Zhan Ning’s cultivation wasn’t high, his sword-flight was stable. After flying for a while, A-Yin couldn’t help but spread his arms and close his eyes. The wind whistled past his ears, and the clouds felt close enough to touch.

Just as A-Yin was lost in the blissful sensation, he felt a sharp pain in his ankle, as if hit by a pebble. His leg gave way, his center of gravity shifted, and he suddenly plummeted from the sword.

“Waaaaaaaah!” Below was a bottomless abyss.

“A-Yin!” Zhan Ning’s shout reached his ears, but the voice was more erratic than the wind, sounding miles away. A-Yin knew well that with Zhan Ning’s cultivation, he couldn’t save him.

He had to rely on himself. He made the sword-flight hand signs and tried to mobilize his true qi, but the broken sword at his waist didn’t budge. He plunged downward like a kite with a broken string.

Clutching his head, A-Yin squeezed his eyes shut, his heart full of terror and regret. He was a cultivation disciple; if he died from a fall—dying was one thing, but the embarrassment was another!

Just as the thought occurred, his descent stopped abruptly. He felt as though he had fallen into someone’s embrace. This embrace was warm and sturdy, accompanied by the scent of peach blossoms. It was profoundly soothing.

His tightened features relaxed as he slowly opened his eyes. “Master?!”

The person holding him was none other than Yue Xichen. A-Yin’s heart began to thump wildly; he couldn’t say why he was so nervous. In his memory, this wasn’t the first time Yue Xichen had held him; ten years ago, the man had carried him to Lingyun Mountain in the same “princess carry” style. However, back then he was a child. Now, though his appearance hadn’t changed much, his mind was no longer that of a boy.

Realizing he was a grown man being carried like a bride by his Master, A-Yin’s face turned bright red. “Master, um… I-I’m fine now. Thank you for saving my life.”

A-Yin offered his thanks first, but seeing no reaction from Yue Xichen, he spoke more plainly: “I mean… Master, you can actually put me down now…”

There was still a distance to the Celestial Pond. A-Yin knew Yue Xichen could leave the other disciples behind in the blink of an eye if he wanted to, but the man never did. At this pace, it would take another few minutes!

A-Yin thought he would be set down, but Yue Xichen acted as if he hadn’t heard a word. He continued to hold him for several minutes, carrying him all the way to the summit of the South Peak. Being held horizontally like that, A-Yin suddenly felt small, as if he had returned to a decade ago. From his angle, he could see Yue Xichen’s beautifully defined, sharp jawline.

As if possessed, he reached out his index finger. Before his fingertip could touch that jade-like skin, the sensation of landing arrived. He quickly retracted his hand as Yue Xichen set him down.

“We are here.”

At the summit of South Peak, the Celestial Pond’s waters were hazy and rippling. At the peak, the snow was white and the wind was stronger than below. Standing beside him, Yue Xichen had his hands behind his back, his black hair fluttering, his white robes rivaling the snow.

A-Yin only realized at that moment that the white robe Yue Xichen was wearing had the exact same peach blossom embroidery as the one he had been draped in that day.

Master… Could he have stolen Eldest Senior Brother’s clothes?

Not expecting his Master to have such a childish side, A-Yin couldn’t help but cover his mouth and snicker secretly.