Chapter 22: Sword Master Feng Rugao

Sheng Rufei said, “I pretended not to know you because if I reminded you, you would have given yourself away.”

“Jun Yewu is extremely vigilant.”

Lin Shijin let out an “oh” so that at least Sheng Rufei didn’t think he was an idiot. In a small voice, he murmured, “I thought you found me troublesome… always getting caught.”

Of course not.

Sheng Rufei’s fingers tightened slowly around his longsword. “I failed to protect you. That is my fault. When we return, I will accept punishment.”

At those words, Lin Shijin remembered the golden seal on his wrist. Only then did he realise he was still clinging to Sheng Rufei. Also, several disciples had already noticed.

“There’s… one more thing…” Lin Shijin tried to speak, but a wave of dizziness crashed over him. His vision darkened, a ringing filled his ears, and Sheng Rufei’s face blurred before him.

Then he fainted.

Sheng Rufei caught him automatically. Touching his forehead, he realised it was scorching hot.

Over on the other side, Jun Yewu had already been bound by the Demon-Binding Curse, the artefact behind the statue had been retrieved, and Su Lian had ordered a few disciples to layer another sealing spell upon Jun Yewu before heading over.

“Sheng-shidi, is he all right?” Su Lian asked, worry and a tinge of trouble on his face.

Their Sword Master doted on this young disciple. If anything happened to him, they would all be held responsible.

Sheng Rufei shook his head. He didn’t yet know the extent of it. “The mission is completed. I’m not sure of Seventeen’s condition. I’ll take him back first.”

“Leave the rest to me,” Su Lian nodded. Inwardly he admired Sheng Rufei, though he couldn’t help feeling some pity for the youth in his arms.

Sheng Rufei was sharp as a blade; the entire ambush had been his design. The patrols across the city, the pretence of martial law, even sending someone to the inn to inquire. All of it had been crafted to lure Jun Yewu into their trap.

He had even used his own shidi as bait.

Jun Yewu had been a scourge for years, countless lives lost to him. His capture would be celebrated throughout all Three Thousand Worlds.

Sheng Rufei’s talent was unquestionable. His temperament, however…

He drew a clear line between sentiment and principle, capable of scheming even against his own shidi. Such a nature… cold-blooded, or deeply loyal? It was difficult to say which was true.

Fortunately, Lin Shijin had been lucky enough to survive Jun Yewu.

Su Lian sighed inwardly but showed nothing on his face. No wonder, he thought, that his own Xue Ning-shidi had fallen into demonic cultivation. Affection for someone like Sheng Rufei was doomed from the start.

He looked again at the youth in Sheng Rufei’s arms and silently added: this one is likely to follow the same fate.

*

At that moment, far away in Fuguang, on Changgao Peak.

In Changming Hall stood a vast water mirror. Feng Rugao stood before it, tall and straight, yet the reflection was not his own. Instead, it showed the two youths in Rakshasa City.

The image rippled; one youth collapsed in the other’s arms. Everything that had happened played out clearly upon the surface.

The air in the hall was ice-cold. Feng Rugao’s expression grew darker and darker until, with a sudden snap, the water mirror shattered into countless threads of dissipating spiritual light.

*

Sheng Rufei took Lin Shijin to an inn, calling for a disciple versed in medicinal arts. The verdict: emotional strain, tension held too long, and lack of rest had caused him to collapse.

Most mortifying of all, despite being a cultivator, he had somehow managed to develop a fever. It was a testament to how poor his constitution was. If Feng Rugao learned of this, he would certainly make him soak in the cold spring daily.

Lin Shijin felt his scalp prickle at the thought. He had woken briefly during the journey, half-conscious, carried in Sheng Rufei’s arms. After drinking the spirit-herb broth, his headache faded, though he still felt overwhelmingly sleepy.

“Shixiong… please don’t tell Shizun,” he murmured, tugging weakly at Sheng Rufei’s sleeve, his little face still pale.

“Please? If he finds out… he’ll make me copy the sect rules.

“I can’t finish copying them.”

And he remembered very clearly. If he couldn’t finish, he would be beaten.

Sheng Rufei let him tug. “Your constitution is weaker than most disciples’. If this continues, it will affect your foundations.”

“I know. I’ll cultivate properly once we’re back. Just… don’t tell Shizun.”

Lin Shijin continued clinging to his sleeve, voice soft, eyes full of quiet hope.

Sheng Rufei said neither yes nor no. His arm was numb from the pulling. Lin Shijin, drifting in and out of sleep, murmured again:

“My wrist… Jun Yewu’s golden seal… he can still find me…

“Sheng Rufei… don’t forget what you promised…”

He was so dazed he accidentally called him by name, imagining Sheng Rufei had agreed, and fell asleep in peace.

Their trip down the mountain had gone surprisingly smoothly, with the unexpected bonus of capturing Jun Yewu. The city lord of Rakshasa City paid them several times over. They remained two more days before returning.

Lin Shijin’s condition still wasn’t good; the golden seal hadn’t faded. He slept poorly and returned listless.

Jing Qiuhong tried speaking to him on the paper boat; he gave a few replies and then drifted off again. This continued until they reached Changgao Peak. Feng Rugao did not summon him… only Sheng Rufei.

This suited him; in his own courtyard, he finally felt safe enough to sleep properly.

*

Upon returning, Sheng Rufei was summoned to the hall.

The moment he stepped inside, a crushing spiritual pressure slammed him to his knees. His longsword struck the floor with a faint clang.

Feng Rugao sat on the main seat, face utterly cold. The usual calm around him had vanished; it was several long moments before Sheng Rufei dared speak.

“You acted quite a part.”

“What did I tell you before you left the mountain?”

Sheng Rufei knelt beneath the oppressive weight, his grip tightening around his sword. “Shizun instructed me to look after my shidi and not allow anything to happen to him.”

“And what did you do?” The hall deepened into shadow, as though Feng Rugao’s figure had merged with the darkness.

“This disciple knows his mistake.”

He had not protected his shidi. His cultivation was inferior to Jun Yewu’s; while he was in meditation, the youth had been taken.

“Where lies your mistake?”

Sheng Rufei straightened, voice steady and cool. “This disciple’s cultivation is shallow; I was negligent of my shidi’s whereabouts, and I failed to heed Shizun’s words.”

Silence fell. Feng Qing, standing by, could only shake his head inwardly.

Not a word of that was correct. He claimed repentance, yet didn’t even recognise his true fault.

His greatest mistake was using his own shidi.

Feng Qing, who had watched Sheng Rufei grow up, understood well that he would never defy Feng Rugao’s orders. Using Lin Shijin as a lure had simply been taking advantage of circumstance.

At seventeen, to possess such calculation. He was born for authority, but not for trust.

The hall remained silent for a long time before Feng Rugao finally spoke, voice like ice.

“Go to the Hall of Cautious Punishment. If you cannot understand, do not return.”

Sheng Rufei bowed his head. Not surprised, not defensive.

“Yes. This disciple withdraws.”

*

The world today stands divided: the Three Thousand Worlds, the immortal sects, and the Demonic and Spirit factions. Among the demonic cultivators, Jun Yewu was among the strongest, yet still below the great powers of the immortal sects.

Foremost among them was Sword Master Feng Rugao—Lord Changming—one of the Three Lords, famed in his youth for his peerless sword light. It was said that when his blade descended, ten thousand miles shone bright.

His cultivation surpassed Jun Yewu’s, and Fuguang Sect which was the first beneath the heavens, was filled with prodigies. For spirits or demons to infiltrate, let alone reach Changgao Peak, was practically impossible.

Lin Shijin felt reassured. His only lingering concern was the golden seal; he would look for Feng Rugao later.

He slept briefly but could not settle. He moved snacks and tea to the couch, took out a piece of paper, and began writing everything that had happened since he transmigrated.

The handwriting was crooked.

First: To avoid being killed, he fled and was picked up by Feng Rugao.

Second: On their descent, Xue Ning attempted something improper towards Sheng Rufei.

Third: While rescuing Sheng Rufei, he himself was captured and inadvertently triggered a soul-bond.

Fourth: In Rakshasa City, he encountered Jun Yewu and was seized again.

He looked at the messy words and added a fifth:

Fifth: Xue Ning escaped and fell into demonic cultivation.

Reading it over, he felt he had been plunged into a battlefield from the very moment he arrived in this world.

Feng Rugao’s voice transmission sounded, summoning him. He flipped the note over and hurried out.

In Changming Hall, the side door remained open. He saluted. Feng Rugao sat by the window and spoke a single word:

“Come.”

Lin Shijin blinked. He couldn’t see clearly in the dimness but still stepped forward. He always felt a little tense around Feng Rugao, stopping two steps away.

The moment he halted, Feng Rugao took hold of his wrist lightly, with control, then drew him a little closer until he stood directly before him.

Lin Shijin felt awkward; the skin on his wrist prickled. Thankfully, Feng Rugao released him quickly.

“What did I tell you before? Have you forgotten the rules?”

Lin Shijin remembered he was supposed to report upon returning and thought it would be fine to come later. “This disciple hasn’t forgotten. I had planned to come tonight.”

He hadn’t expected the summons.

Feng Rugao was silent for a moment. “Are you injured?”

Lin Shijin guessed he already knew. He shook his head. He was sore everywhere, but nothing serious.

“This disciple is uninjured, but Jun Yewu placed a golden seal on my wrist.” He extended his arm; the mark was no longer visible, but he could feel it.

Feng Rugao grasped his wrist again. White light gathered at his fingertips; the golden mark surfaced, then shattered with a sharp crack.

So easily?

“Shizun… is the seal broken?”

A soft “Mm.” Feng Rugao did not release him until Lin Shijin called him again.

Lin Shijin hardly noticed, too relieved. “Thank you, Shizun.”

He rubbed his wrist. It felt as though an invisible shackle had been removed. His heart lightened instantly.

“I heard you had a fever on your return.”

Before his relief had fully blossomed, Feng Rugao continued.

“I have been negligent of your constitution. From tomorrow onward, come here every day. I will refine your bones.”

At the very first sentence, Lin Shijin had felt a sense of foreboding. His eyelids had been twitching nonstop.

When he heard the words “refine your bones,” his mind went blank.

He nearly fainted on the spot.