Chapter 107: The Reverse Scale

Lin Shijin was somewhat reserved around strangers. He stayed behind Sheng Rufei, but Shen Buyu’s gaze fell on him again, his tone lazy.

“Lin-shidi, we haven’t met before. I’m your fourteenth shixiong. I heard Shizun recently took on a new disciple, but I hadn’t returned. Meeting here is fate.”

Shen Buyu extended his hand. Lin Shijin glanced at Sheng Rufei, who gave no reaction, so he briefly returned the gesture.

“Fourteenth shixiong… I’ve long heard of you.” Lin Shijin felt slightly awkward as he spoke, quickly withdrawing his hand.

By now, Buye City was filled with disciples from all over, gathered for Wuxiang Mountain. Along the way, Lin Shijin had seen many. Fuguang disciples were easy to recognise, and even though Sheng Rufei had concealed his long hair, he was still identified.

Whispers drifted through the crowd.

“Is that a Fuguang disciple? The one in the hood, is that Sheng Liuguang?”

“It should be. He’s naturally silver-haired, often hides it. His sword is the famed Yinbing, entirely silver-white…”

They drew plenty of attention. Most of the onlookers were youths of similar age, full of curiosity, especially toward notable figures of each peak. They spoke endlessly of talented disciples.

Lin Shijin noticed many glances cast their way, most directed at Sheng Rufei. Some were curious, some envious, and some carried an emotion he recognised all too well.

—Admiration.

He grumbled inwardly. To admire someone without even meeting them, just on hearsay, was far too frivolous.

Sheng Rufei was his.

He tried to block those gazes, though he was shorter and couldn’t fully shield him.

As the main city, Buye City was far more prosperous than the smaller towns. Even past noon, the streets were bustling. Vermilion pavilions stretched skyward, glazed tiles gleaming like scattered gold, delicate ornaments adorning the structures, carved railings swaying in the breeze. The city seemed endless, never falling into night.

Lin Shijin felt uncomfortable under so many gazes and barely paid attention to the surroundings, nearly colliding with someone before Sheng Rufei pulled him back.

“Sheng-shidi truly is popular,” Su Lian remarked with a hint of amusement, lightly tapping Xue Danggui’s wrist when he noticed the boy beside him glancing back.

Xue Danggui withdrew his gaze and added, “Sheng-shixiong’s name is known throughout the immortal sects. It’s only natural. Just a few days ago, I saw disciples asking about him everywhere.”

As for what they were asking, it was naturally Sheng Rufei’s whereabouts.

“News from a few days ago has likely spread,” Shen Buyu said. “Sheng-shidi broke the Saint Lord’s formation at Jinyue Temple.”

The matter of the sacred artefact had not spread widely. The elders had deliberately suppressed it.

“Teahouses in Buye City have been discussing it these past few days. Many have even begun placing bets on the Wuxiang Mountain trial’s victor. Quite a number have wagered on Sheng-shidi.”

He gave a faint sigh. “In that case, you may find yourselves under greater scrutiny. You’ll likely be targeted during the trial.”

Sheng Rufei remained silent. Lin Shijin, however, wasn’t convinced. If it was only other disciples, there was little to fear. Sheng Rufei had long since surpassed them. What worried him were the unseen dangers beyond that.

“Disciples from all sects have gathered here. We don’t know when Wuxiang Mountain will open, so we can only wait. Keep an eye on your tokens.”

Noticing Lin Shijin’s distraction, Sheng Rufei frowned slightly. Unconcerned with others’ opinions, he grasped the youth’s wrist and pulled him back.

“Watch where you’re going.”

Lin Shijin snapped back to attention, murmured a response, and edged closer, his fingertips brushing Sheng Rufei’s in quiet dependence.

No one noticed the small exchange, though Shen Buyu cast them another glance, thoughtful.

As host, Shen Buyu was characteristically unrestrained. Having collected his shidis, he led them straight to a restaurant. After several years in the mortal world, any notion of fasting had long been abandoned.

“I’ve been here for some time,” he said. “I can tell you about the city.”

The restaurant was bustling. Su Lian and the others had no objections, willing to humour him. Lin Shijin, for his part, found the choice very much to his liking.

They usually travelled on missions. Rarely did they visit such places openly.

Just as they stepped inside, a clear voice rang out behind them.

“Sheng Liuguang—”

Lin Shijin didn’t react at first. What came into view was an exceptionally handsome youth. Not far off, he stood in a Fengyin Zhulan Daoist robe, his eyes tinged red like burning maple, the corners of them brimming with unabashed arrogance.

Fengyin Zhulan. A disciple of Luoxiao.

Born with red eyes… Lin Shijin had heard of him before. The sect leader’s only son, and among the most talented of this generation.

His name seemed to be Mo Yan.

He hadn’t appeared in the original story. There were simply too many who admired Sheng Rufei; only the main love interests had any real plot, the rest were brushed over in passing.

They came to a halt. Mo Yan’s gaze fixed squarely on Sheng Rufei as he got straight to the point. “Sheng Liuguang, will you team up with me?”

It was phrased as a question, yet carried a note of certainty. By now, everyone had heard that the trial would be conducted in pairs. Though the exact arrangement was still unclear, most had already begun forming teams in advance.

Su Lian and the others were clearly in the mood for entertainment, lingering at the side to watch how Sheng Rufei would respond.

“Sheng-shidi, you really are fortunate,” Shen Buyu said under his breath. “That’s the Luoxiao Sect Leader’s only son. They may already have advance information, and his cultivation isn’t low. If you team up with him, it would be a powerful alliance.”

As he spoke, he cast a glance at the youth beside Sheng Rufei. The youth was visibly annoyed, shooting him a quick glare, fingers still gripping a corner of Sheng Rufei’s sleeve.

Lin Shijin said nothing. He knew Sheng Rufei would refuse, yet he was still irritated, a tight knot of resentment sitting in his chest. Inwardly, he had already struck Shen Buyu off his list.

“No need,” Sheng Rufei replied to Shen Buyu.

Mo Yan was hardly deaf; he had clearly heard. That answer was just as much directed at him.

“Why?” Mo Yan had never been refused before. In his eyes, the very act of choosing Sheng Rufei was already a compliment. He had not expected rejection. His gaze shifted to Lin Shijin, noticing how the youth seemed bristling with invisible thorns, and understanding dawned.

“You already have someone in mind?” he asked, sweeping Lin Shijin with a dismissive glance. “He’s too weak. He’ll only hold you back.”

Xue Ning watched as the youth seemed to deflate on the spot, shoulders drooping with a trace of anger. It was the first time he had seen him so prickly, and it struck him as oddly interesting.

He added fuel to the fire. “Sheng-shixiong, Lin-shidi would indeed be a burden. You should think carefully.”

Ordinarily, no one would dare say such a thing aloud. Lin Shijin felt as though something had seized him by the tail. He shot Xue Danggui a sideways glance, sharp enough to chill, his features turning colder, shadows pooling beneath his brows.

For a fleeting instant, Xue Ning felt a prickle of unease, as though something unsettling had fixed its gaze upon him. He quickly dismissed it as illusion. Even if this little waste of space was angry, what could he do?

Besides, the boy’s obvious attachment to Sheng Rufei irritated him. He suppressed the gloom in his heart. In any case, Sheng Rufei would not live long.

A short-lived ghost.

Lin Shijin’s eyes remained locked on Sheng Rufei. His fingers still clutched at him. If Sheng Rufei so much as hesitated, he would turn and leave without a second thought.

“He isn’t weak.”

Sheng Rufei had already sensed the shift in the youth’s mood. His fingertips moved slightly as he gave that single reply to Mo Yan. It was enough to make his stance clear.

Shen Buyu: “…”

Blatant nonsense.

Anyone present could see that Lin Shijin’s cultivation was low.

Chunhe and Mu Wanqing showed no reaction. Su Lian raised a brow slightly. Xue Ning let out a faint, ambiguous scoff.

Mo Yan frowned, casting Lin Shijin another look. Lin Shijin, however, paid him no mind. His earlier anger had dulled, though it had not entirely vanished.

Having been refused so directly, Mo Yan did not press further. The group entered the restaurant. Lin Shijin lingered behind, and while Sheng Rufei and Su Lian went ahead to the counter, Xue Danggui turned back to speak to him.

“Angry?”

Lin Shijin ignored him. For all he knew, this one might as well be Xue Ning in disguise. The tone alone was irritating enough.

“Your cultivation is low, yet you won’t let others say so? Staying by Sheng Rufei’s side will only drag him down.”

Lin Shijin remained silent. He could tolerate others mocking his own weakness, but he could not stand them using it against Sheng Rufei, stirring trouble, trying to drive a wedge between them.

“You’d be better off teaming up with me,” Xue Danggui continued. “Once we enter Wuxiang Mountain, I can protect you. Not like your shixiong, attracting trouble wherever he goes.”

They spoke in low voices, yet those ahead could hear every word.

Sheng Rufei and Su Lian happened to be returning. Catching only the last sentence, they slowed, pausing to hear Lin Shijin’s answer.

Su Lian pressed a hand to his forehead, his temples throbbing faintly. Bringing Xue Ning along had truly been a mistake.

Unaware they were being overheard, Lin Shijin had no patience left. He gave Xue Danggui a slow once-over.

“What’s it to you?” he said quietly, lips tightening, his tone sharp as a barb. “Are we that close?”

“Stop bothering me.”

Everyone: “…”

Lin Fuheng looked faintly surprised. So the boy did have some spine after all. It seemed he had been properly provoked this time, and had even learned to keep his distance.

He reached out and lightly patted the youth’s head, a rare note of approval in the gesture. “Well said.”

“If he bothers you again, tell him to get lost.”

Only after the words left his mouth did Lin Shijin feel a trace of regret. Lost in thought, he ignored the stunned Xue Danggui and followed Shen Buyu and the others into a private room.

They had come to a restaurant, naturally, to eat. Lin Shijin picked a corner seat at random. A heavy gaze settled on him; he didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Before long, Sheng Rufei and Su Lian returned. The faint scent of plum blossoms drifted past as Sheng Rufei took the seat beside him.

A moment later, his fingertips were caught and held. Sheng Rufei’s grip was firm, carrying a quiet reassurance.

The small flare of anger in Lin Shijin’s chest dimmed. In front of Sheng Rufei, the thorns fell away, leaving only something soft and unguarded beneath. Every unspoken feeling passed plainly between them.

It was obvious to anyone watching, especially with Xue Ning as contrast, just how different the youth’s manner was when it came to Sheng Rufei.

Shen Buyu no longer needed to test the waters. The nature of their relationship was clear. What surprised him more was the sheer audacity of his sixteenth shidi.

If he was right, their shizun’s decision to take in this boy had been planned long ago. After all, he was identical to the portrait in Changming Hall. He had not been entirely certain before, but that fleeting cold look earlier, the matching presence, there was no doubt now.

It was the same person.

He had always assumed the one in the portrait would become their future shimu, the person their shizun had loved.

And yet now…

After waiting over a thousand years, his shizun’s beloved had been taken.

The mere thought of his shizun learning the truth sent a chill down his spine.

“Even as a child, Sixteen always struck me as unusual,” Shen Buyu murmured. He recalled how, back when Sheng Rufei had just entered the sect, someone had tried to take his belongings, and he had smashed an entire hall to ruins in response. Now that he was older, he had grown more restrained, yet he had quietly gone and taken his shizun’s person instead.

Who was their shizun?

One of the Three Immortal Lords of the age. No one dared touch his reverse scale.

Shen Buyu let out a quiet breath. “…Now that is something I truly admire.”