Feng Rugao quickly carried him away, vanishing from sight in an instant, leaving only a group of disciples whispering amongst themselves.
“Did you see Lord Changming clearly just now? He seems almost impossible to approach.”
“He feels so cold and distant.”
“Did he take Lin-shidi with him?”
“He came out because of Lin-shidi. I heard he even left seclusion previously on Lin-shidi’s account…”
The murmurs swirled below. Sheng Rufei noticed something and glanced at Su Lian, who simply gave a faint smile in reply, saying nothing.
The secret realm training had ended. Aside from a few injured disciples, nearly all were present, and the elders soon arrived to announce the results.
“The results of this training are as follows: task completion rates across the teams are nearly zero, with only a handful of disciples completing their objectives.”
“Due to unforeseen incidents that caused the secret realm to end early, evaluation will not consider task completion. Instead, we will base it on the number of jade fragments collected. The top three collectors will receive corresponding spirit stone rewards.”
“The bottom fifteen are deemed unqualified.”
The elder read the top three names: Sheng Rufei, Su Lian, and Mu Wanqing.
Mu Wanqing and Sheng Rufei had been on the same team. As for the bottom ten, many were disciples from Medicine Peak; there were few from the Sword Pavilion.
Lin Shijin’s name was not called, so he ranked somewhere in the middle.
“One more matter,” the elder continued. “During the training, some disciples outside our Fuguang Sect infiltrated. Su Lian, this involves you. You will accompany us to the Shenxing Hall.”
Su Lian responded with a simple nod, unsurprised, and left with the elders. As he passed Sheng Rufei, he caught the latter’s scrutinising gaze and paused for a brief moment.
*
Lin Shijin’s dizziness lingered until evening. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a familiar side hall of Changming Hall… a place he often frequented.
A dull ache lingered in his head as he slowly pieced together the memory of fainting. He remembered emerging from the secret realm, nearly collapsing, only to see Feng Rugao.
Feng Rugao had returned.
Following his gaze, Lin Shijin glimpsed the familiar edge of a Daoist robe. Feng Rugao sat a short distance away, incense curling in the hall. Noticing him looking, Feng Rugao slowly set aside the book he had been reading.
Lin Shijin felt slightly uneasy. His eyes fell on the patterned brocade covering the soft couch. It was exactly the same as last time. He was in Feng Rugao’s hall again; it was clear Feng Rugao had brought him back.
“Shizun… when did you return?”
He attempted to rise from the couch, intending to return to his own hall. As he shifted, he silently felt a change in Feng Rugao’s aura.
It had grown colder.
A shiver ran down his spine. The events in the secret realm were still unresolved in his mind, and he did not know why Feng Rugao was now angry.
Could it be because he had failed his mission?
If so, it made sense. His cultivation was low, his sword practice had stagnated, and he had failed. Feng Rugao’s anger would be justified.
“Shizun… this disciple knows his mistake.”
Lin Shijin knelt instinctively, unable to think of any other response. He also felt regret over the failed mission. If Feng Rugao demanded that he refine his bones again, he would have no grounds to refuse.
“How have I taught you, day after day?”
Feng Rugao’s deep voice reverberated. He said nothing further, simply gazing down at him, his expression cold and unyielding.
How had Feng Rugao taught him before?
Lin Shijin could not recall every word. He tried to interpret Feng Rugao’s meaning, assuming the anger stemmed from his failure. He was slow-witted, always falling short, and now he had let down his shizun.
“Disciple knows his mistake… Shizun has always instructed me to cultivate diligently…” Lin Shijin began. He had stopped being late or careless and practised swordsmanship properly with Sheng Rufei. Perhaps Feng Rugao was displeased with his lack of progress.
“Disciple knows his mistake… I have not applied myself enough. My diligence cannot compensate for my deficiencies. In the future, I will strive harder… and will not disappoint Shizun.”
He spoke slowly, almost word by word, keeping his head lowered, unwilling to meet Feng Rugao’s icy gaze.
His efforts were barely adequate. Following Sheng Rufei had made him slightly more diligent than the average disciple, but in Feng Rugao’s eyes, it was insufficient.
Process mattered little; results were all that counted. Despite practising daily, his swordsmanship had improved only marginally.
For a while, Sheng Rufei did not respond. Memories of the secret realm swirled in Lin Shijin’s mind, leaving him flustered. He had been spoiled and lazy by habit, and in the secret realm, he had acted coquettishly toward Sheng Rufei countless times. Thinking about it now made him blush.
He did not know how to face Sheng Rufei, and the strange events in Yixiu City only added to his confusion. His mind was a jumble.
After some silence, a movement caught his attention. He raised his head, and a water mirror appeared before him.
The mirror looked down upon him, and soon a scene emerged. Embarrassment flooded his face as he recognised it.
The mirror reflected his actions in the secret realm.
Possessing rabbit demon blood, his instincts had influenced his behaviour. Afraid of pain, he had clung to Sheng Rufei, refused to let go, and even sought to seduce him to avoid suffering.
Lin Shijin blushed deeply, ashamed even to look. He pressed his fingertips against the dark floor, silent as a chicken.
“Is this how I have always taught you?”
He pressed his lips together. The dark floor beneath his fingers, like Feng Rugao himself, seemed unfathomable.
He remained silent. Feng Rugao’s voice deepened.
“Raise your head.”
Lin Shijin complied, eyes guilty and ashamed. If Sheng Rufei had seen this, it might be bearable. But Feng Rugao had. He would undoubtedly judge him as both lazy and scheming.
“Shizun, this disciple knows his mistake.”
Feng Rugao’s voice was icy. “Where did you go wrong?”
“This disciple… should not have troubled Shixiong. It was my fault,” Lin Shijin admitted, his voice dropping. Anticipating further punishment, he felt dejected. “I was afraid of pain and clung to Shixiong, hoping he would indulge me.”
“This disciple knows his mistake.”
He repeated the phrase again and again, daring not speak otherwise.
He watched Feng Rugao. The aura around him pressed down like an invisible weight, pinning Lin Shijin to the floor. He hated it, yet dared not resist.
“Since you know your mistake, correct it in the future,” Feng Rugao said after a pause, seemingly restraining himself. “Feng Qing.”
Hearing the name, Lin Shijin’s embarrassment deepened. He had forgotten that Feng Qing watched over Feng Rugao’s hall daily, always ready at a moment’s notice.
She must have seen his actions in the water mirror.
Feng Qing answered softly, then vanished and reappeared, placing a black box on the table.
Lin Shijin’s unease grew. He murmured another apology.
“Shizun, this disciple knows his mistake.”
“Could you… not punish me?”
He met Feng Rugao’s gaze, voice faltering. His heart thumped like a drum. Feng Qing opened the box, revealing a silver lock.
It was exquisitely carved, with copper rings and intricate incantations. The words Changming were inscribed.
“Your mind is unsettled; you must not dabble in love. This lock is made from thousand-year-old cold jade. It will restrain you until you learn self-control. Until then, it must not leave your side.”
The cold words rang in Lin Shijin’s ears. A snap seemed to echo in his mind. He instinctively resisted, stepping back.
“Shizun, I have never touched love. I care for Shixiong only as a fellow disciple. I have never harboured improper thoughts.”
“Shizun, this disciple knows his mistake… I am willing to copy the sect rules.”
He had no choice. Feng Rugao never yielded. Any objection might have consequences beyond simply being locked.
“Could I… not wear this?”
“Shizun, this disciple knows his mistake and will not trouble Shixiong again.”
Kneeling on the floor, fingertips whitening against the floorboards, head bowed, he felt utterly dejected.
“Feng Qing—” he glanced at him. He looked at him with mild sympathy, but averted his gaze, denying his request.
The man in the main seat lowered his eyes slightly, half his face hidden in shadow, ignoring Lin Shijin entirely.
A shadow fell before Lin Shijin. Feng Rugao himself held the silver lock. Lin Shijin remained kneeling, instinctively recoiling as those cold, pale, slender hands reached toward him.
The man’s hand paused for a moment, his eyes growing colder. An invisible pressure radiated through the hall, and Lin Shijin felt as if his very soul were being torn apart.
His face went pale. This was the first time he had ever seen Feng Rugao like this. He was directly suppressing him with his cultivation.
He knelt frozen, a hollow emptiness in his chest. When the man’s fingertips brushed against his chin, a chill ran along his neck.
Feng Rugao personally fastened the silver lock around his neck.
The lock was neither heavy nor tight, yet it felt suffocating, as if the entire Changming Hall pressed down on him, making it difficult to breathe.
He remained on his knees for a long while. The moment the lock was secured, he felt Feng Rugao’s aura soften ever so slightly.
“Shizun… is there anything else? If not… this disciple will take his leave.”
Lin Shijin waited in silence, receiving no reply. He staggered to his feet, sensing Feng Rugao’s gaze fixed unwaveringly on him. He endured it until reaching the hall entrance. Once outside Changming Hall, he could no longer resist and reached up for the silver lock.
He tugged, but the lock would not budge. His neck stung slightly from the strain, but the lock remained unyielding.
Frustration welled in his chest. He tugged at it again and again, finally tucking it inside his clothes and continuing on his way, determined to find some way to unlock it once he returned.
Even knowing that Feng Rugao had said it could not be removed, he could not help trying.
Before reaching his destination, he spotted a familiar figure at the gate of his courtyard.
Sheng Rufei also saw him and turned around.
Lin Shijin was in low spirits and had no desire for company. He reached the gate, feigning normalcy. “Shixiong… when did you arrive?”
As he drew closer, he noticed something cradled in Sheng Rufei’s arms. Sheng Rufei’s expression was neutral, almost cold, as he extended the object toward him, his voice slightly hesitant.
“These are the spirit stones I collected today. I rarely use them myself.”
Sheng Rufei was not a man of many words. He had earned the most jade fragments, ranking first, and had received a generous portion of spirit stones from the elders. Knowing Lin Shijin would have many expenses, he had brought them.
Lin Shijin was slightly taken aback. Looking more closely, he noticed Sheng Rufei’s arms were heavy with the stones, far more than he had expected.
The silver lock around his neck pressed against his thoughts, a constant, silent reminder of Feng Rugao’s warning: he was not to become entangled with Sheng Rufei.
“No need… Shixiong can keep them.”
His refusal was not due to Feng Rugao. Even if there were no complications, he could not accept so many spirit stones without reason. Moreover, Sheng Rufei had earned them through effort.
“If there’s nothing else, Shixiong should return early.”
Lin Shijin’s neck still felt uncomfortable. He wanted a moment alone to breathe. Saying this, he turned and entered the courtyard.
Sheng Rufei remained behind. He held the spirit stones lightly in his fingertips, watching Lin Shijin’s retreating figure. His fingers stiffened slightly before he slowly lowered his hands, letting the stones rest safely in his palms.
Notice from PurpleLy (the translator) 16 Feb 2026:
Tomorrow’s Chinese New Year, thus chapter updates for all ongoing translations will resume on 19 Feb. 恭喜发财 (Gong Xi Fa Cai) and 新年快乐 (Xin Nian Kuai Le) to those celebrating🧧 Thanks for reading!
