Mo Zhu stepped closer, his Adam's apple bobbing as his gaze remained fixed on her eyes. In her pupils, he saw his own reflection—the bite marks scattered across his neck. He wasn’t angry at all. In fact, he wanted her to leave even more marks. He would let her bite him anywhere, even if it drew blood, as long as it made her happy.
At this close distance, Yu Zhiling also noticed the marks she had left on him. She had bitten him hard the night before, some wounds even scabbing over.
"Mo… Mo Zhu, step back a little…" Yu Zhiling said.
"Why should I? Aren’t I just a child? Children don’t need to avoid impropriety. Shizun, you could even sleep with me tonight—after all, I’m just a child." His words were sharp, his face expressionless, yet the anger in his voice was unmistakable.
"Shizun, didn’t you say you only see me as a child? Then there’s no harm, is there? Tonight, I’ll stay with you. Since I’m a child, we don’t need to worry about propriety."
As he spoke, he straightened up, undid his belt with one hand, and coldly began removing his outer robe.
Yu Zhiling could no longer hide. "I was wrong!" she blurted out.
Mo Zhu paused, lifting his eyes to look at her. His fingers, long and well-defined, still rested on the loosened belt, as if weighing her words. If she wasn’t sincere, he might actually strip off his clothes.
Yu Zhiling awkwardly scooted further into the bed. "I… I used to see you as a child, but you’ve grown up. Zhongli Yang was right—if you were from an ordinary family, you’d probably be engaged by now…"
Mo Zhu’s expression didn’t change, but his hands slowly refastened his belt.
Yu Zhiling exhaled in relief. So it really was because she kept treating him like a child that he got angry.
Had she hurt his pride?
Well, children in this world matured early. By their teens, they were already sent out to exorcise evil spirits. Mentally, he might be just as mature as she was. If she were constantly treated like a naive child, she’d be annoyed too.
Her mood instantly brightened. Once she identified the problem, she could fix it.
She reached out to him. "Shizun was wrong, okay? You’ve grown up—you’re at the age where you can start a family now."
She blinked, her dark eyes shining like grape seeds, and Mo Zhu found it impossible to stay angry.
Looking at her outstretched hand—still weak from her injuries—he adjusted his robes, knelt beside the bed, and pressed his cheek into her palm.
Yu Zhiling happily stroked his face. His skin was smooth, pleasant to touch.
"Shizun," Mo Zhu murmured, nuzzling her hand. "Don’t treat me like a child anymore. I’m a man now."
He didn’t care how others saw him, but she couldn’t keep thinking of him that way.
Yu Zhiling smiled, indulging her sulking disciple. "Alright, alright. Shizun was wrong. Forgive me, okay?"
She tilted her head, repeating in a coaxing tone, "Hmm? Will you? My good Mo Zhu, my dear Mo Zhu, my sweet Mo Zhu?"
Mo Zhu could never stay mad at her for long. Even when he stormed out earlier, he had still worried about her hunger and asked the Zhongli Family to prepare her a meal.
Between them, forgiveness was never in question. One smile from her, and he’d come running back willingly.
"My good boy, my sweet boy, forgive Shizun, okay? Shizun was wrong, wrong, wrong! Will you forgive me?"
Mo Zhu turned his head to hide a laugh, then clasped her hand and nodded. "Fine."
Yu Zhiling scooted closer, her dark eyes fixed on him.
"You forgive me?"
"Mn."
"You’re not angry anymore?"
"Mn."
"Really, really not angry?"
"Really, really not angry."
"Really, really, really, really not angry?"
"Really, really, really, really not angry."
Only then did Yu Zhiling grin, turning to face him fully. "Was it me who pulled you onto the bed while I was asleep?"
Mo Zhu stiffened, his gaze intense.
Yu Zhiling asked, "I didn’t… do anything else to you, did I?"
Mo Zhu sat on the floor beside the bed, answering softly, "No. Shizun didn’t do anything. I was just tired and rested here for a while. Are you upset?"
Yu Zhiling shook her head. "Not at all."
To Mo Zhu, her smile was like a little flower, capable of dispelling all his gloom.
His eyes darkened, but she didn’t notice, half-burying her face in the quilt as she whispered, "I’m going to sleep now. You can leave once I’m asleep. Rest early tonight."
"Mn," he agreed, tucking the quilt around her. "Sleep well, Shizun. I’ll watch over you."
Assured that her disciple was no longer angry, Yu Zhiling closed her eyes, ready to drift off.
Mo Zhu lowered his lashes, his thoughts in turmoil. The bite marks on his neck and collarbone ached faintly. With his healing abilities, he could have easily mended them—but he didn’t want to.
He hadn’t used spiritual energy to heal, letting the pain keep him awake.
These were marks she had left—
"Mo Zhu!"
Her sudden call snapped him out of his thoughts.
He looked up to see Yu Zhiling peeking out from the quilt again, her brows furrowed as if recalling something serious. Instantly, he tensed.
"Shizun, what’s wrong?"
Yu Zhiling declared gravely, "Big problem!"
Mo Zhu frowned. "Are you feeling unwell?"
"Did you take your medicine today?" she asked earnestly.
Mo Zhu: "…"
Yu Zhiling smacked her forehead. "It’s my fault! You were so busy taking care of me, you must’ve forgotten. Quick, take it now! You can’t skip doses—the sooner you treat it, the sooner you’ll recover."
Mo Zhu: "…"
"Alright," he said. "I’ll take it now."
Only after watching him swallow the medicine did Yu Zhiling relax. "So, after two days of treatment, do you feel any better?"
Mo Zhu: "…Much better."
Satisfied, she burrowed back under the quilt, beaming. "Good. Keep taking it. Goodnight."
He didn’t understand what "goodnight" meant, but since she’d closed her eyes, he assumed it was a wish for his well-being.
Mo Zhu gazed at her for a long moment before smiling silently. When her breathing steadied into sleep, he leaned closer and whispered solemnly, "Goodnight."
Goodnight, Shizun.
Her interruption had completely scattered his earlier thoughts. Despite his usual fastidiousness, he remained seated on the floor, guarding her as she slept.
Outside, the summer rain pattered softly. Though it was late at night, the room was brightly lit with candles. Ever since he learned that Yu Zhiling was afraid of the dark, he had filled her bedchamber with candles that could burn all night.
As long as there was light, she would never be afraid.
Yan Shanqing had packed his belongings early in the morning, preparing to leave.
On the way, he encountered Zhongli Xun, who looked at the group’s packed bags in surprise and asked, "Sect Leader Yan, are you returning to the Yingshan Sect?"
Yan Shanqing replied in a low voice, "Yes."
Zhongli Xun asked blankly, "Does my elder brother know?"
"Yes." Yan Shanqing’s tone was indifferent.
Zhongli Xun didn’t take offense and instead cupped his hands in a respectful salute. "Then I wish you all a safe journey back."
Their early departure, however, left Yu Zhiling in a difficult position. She was rudely awakened by Mo Zhu at dawn.
Still half-asleep, she mumbled, "What’s wrong?"
Mo Zhu knelt on one knee beside the bed, brushing aside the disheveled hair at her temples before lifting her out of the blankets.
"The sect leader and the elders have sent word. We’re setting off for the Yingshan Sect. I’ve already packed your things, Master. Once you change, we’ll leave."
Cradled in his arms, Yu Zhiling rested her cheek against his chest, drowsily nuzzling into him. Her voice was hoarse with sleep. "I’m not awake yet..."
Mo Zhu tested the water temperature before carefully placing her on the soft couch in the bathing chamber. Patiently, he coaxed her, "Would you like to freshen up, Master? You can go back to sleep afterward."
Since her little disciple had already carried her here, she could only yawn lazily and nod. "I’ll manage. You go ahead."
"Alright. Call me if you need anything."
Mo Zhu closed the door behind him.
Yu Zhiling gritted her teeth as she struggled to sit up, then winced again as she washed and changed into fresh robes. By the time she finished, she collapsed onto the couch, utterly drained. Silently, she decided that this habit of hers wasn’t worth keeping—cleansing spells were just as good.
It really—really—really hurt!
Tearfully wiping her eyes, the pained master forced herself to endure and called her obedient little disciple back in.
She nestled comfortably in Mo Zhu’s embrace.
This was much better. Her little disciple smelled nice, carried her as effortlessly as if she weighed nothing, and his body was pleasantly warm.
Their belongings were few—just a single Qiankun bag sufficed.
Mo Zhu carried her to the pocket boat, where Yan Shanqing and the others were already waiting.
Yu Zhiling’s eyes widened. "This pocket boat belongs to the Yingshan Sect?"
If she wasn’t mistaken, though the Yingshan Sect was wealthy, they never spent money on things like this—especially not on something used maybe once a year.
But this pocket boat was practically a luxury cruise ship. Ordinary pocket boats had only one cabin, but this one stood three stories tall, with three rooms on each floor. Even the deck alone was as large as the entire pocket boat she had arrived in.
"I gifted it. What’s the matter? Does Immortal Lord Zhuoyu like it?"
A teasingly smug voice sounded from behind.
Yu Zhiling patted Mo Zhu’s shoulder. "Turn around. Let me see."
Mo Zhu obediently turned.
Zhongli Yang approached, his face as expressionless as ever. When he noticed Yu Zhiling still nestled in Mo Zhu’s arms, he paused, then lifted his gaze to meet Mo Zhu’s eyes.
"Immortal Lord Zhuoyu has certainly taken in an excellent disciple."
Yu Zhiling missed the implication in his words and rolled her eyes. "What, are you jealous?"
Zhongli Yang didn’t answer. Instead, he silently locked eyes with Mo Zhu. Unseen by Yu Zhiling, her usually gentle and obedient little disciple had shed his usual warmth—his expression was cold, devoid of emotion.
Worried that Yu Zhiling might start another argument with Zhongli Yang, Yan Shanqing signaled to Xiang Wuxue—after all, he was the most even-tempered among them.
Understanding the hint, Xiang Wuxue stepped forward to mediate.
"Little Five, it’s time to go. The Yingshan Sect can’t be left unattended."
Yu Zhiling knew better than to delay matters of importance. Reluctantly, she waved at Zhongli Yang. "Thank you for arranging the pocket boat, Master Zhongli. We’ll be on our way now."
Zhongli Yang nodded. "Mm."
Mo Zhu said nothing to him, carrying Yu Zhiling onto the boat first.
The pocket boat was spacious. The largest room on the first floor seemed specially prepared for Yu Zhiling—even the wooden chairs were cushioned with soft brocade, and calming incense burned in the air.
After entering, Mo Zhu first settled Yu Zhiling onto the prepared bed, then opened the three latticed windows before bustling about to tidy the room.
Watching him, Yu Zhiling felt warmth bloom in her chest. When Mo Zhu glanced her way, she mustered the strength to raise her hands and form two little hearts with her fingers.
Mo Zhu chuckled. By now, he understood what it meant—her way of expressing affection.
He walked over and knelt beside the bed. "Master, are you hungry?"
Yu Zhiling shook her head. "No. Have my senior brothers and sisters not boarded yet?"
"No, they’re still outside bidding farewell to Master Zhongli."
"What’s there to say? I thought the Yingshan Sect and the Zhongli Family didn’t get along." She frowned. "My senior brother refuses to tell me why—something about it being embarrassing."
Mo Zhu stayed silent. He had heard a little about it—something involving Immortal Fuchun. Long ago, the previous Master Zhongli and Immortal Fuchun had some kind of falling out. Afterward, the two severed ties, and the two factions became estranged. For centuries, they had avoided each other, and their disciples often clashed.
But if Yan Shanqing didn’t want to tell Yu Zhiling, he likely had his own reasons. Mo Zhu wouldn’t interfere.
Yu Zhiling tilted her head and yawned, murmuring, "Mo Zhu, I’m a little sleepy."
She had woken far too early today. Knowing she was still drowsy, Mo Zhu gently brushed aside the stray hair at her temples.
"Sleep, Master."
Yu Zhiling closed her eyes. By now, she had grown accustomed to Mo Zhu’s closeness and let him smooth her hair without protest.
His touch was tender, as though handling a priceless treasure. After tidying her disheveled locks, he pulled the brocade quilt over her and sat by the bed, watching her drift off.
He likely didn’t realize it himself, but the way he looked at Yu Zhiling was different from how he regarded anyone else—overflowing with tenderness and devotion.
Just as Ning Hengwu pushed open the cabin door, she saw the black-clad youth sitting motionless by the bed, his gaze fixed intently on the sleeping figure. His expression was focused, his eyes soft.
Meanwhile, her carefree little sister slept soundly, utterly defenseless.
Ning Hengwu’s brows instantly furrowed.
Mo Zhu had been lost in thought and hadn’t noticed Ning Hengwu’s approach. By the time he realized, she had already stepped inside.
He stood and bowed respectfully. "Greetings, Second Elder."
Ning Hengwu acknowledged him. "No need for formalities. I came to check on Little Five."
Yu Zhiling hadn’t yet fallen asleep when she heard movement. She quickly opened her eyes and, upon seeing Ning Hengwu, joyfully called out, "Second Senior Sister!"
She adored this senior sister the most—beautiful, carrying a lovely fragrance, and always speaking to her in the gentlest tones.
Ning Hengwu’s thoughts were momentarily diverted by her greeting, leaving no room to dwell on what had just happened. A smile tugged at her lips as she approached Yu Zhiling.
"Little Five, did you rest well last night?"
She sat by the bed and raised her hand slightly. Yu Zhiling immediately understood, offering her wrist for Ning Hengwu to check.
"I slept wonderfully!"
Except for the little quarrel with Mo Zhu before bed.
Ning Hengwu nodded thoughtfully as she examined her pulse.
After a quarter of an hour, she withdrew her hand and placed a bottle of pills by the bedside. "This is the antidote for the Heart-Eating Gu, refined from immortal wood sprouts. Your injuries haven’t fully healed, so the Mustard Seed Boat shouldn’t fly too fast. It’ll take us three days to reach the Yingshan Sect. During this time, Mo Zhu can help you neutralize the Gu—one pill per day for three days."
Yu Zhiling eagerly picked it up. "Thank you, Second Senior Sister!"
She glanced meaningfully at Mo Zhu, and the young man caught her hint, bowing respectfully as well.
"Many thanks, Second Senior Aunt."
Outside, the commotion seemed to have settled. The noise faded, and Ning Hengwu peered through the half-open window before murmuring, "Eldest Senior Brother and the others must be done. It’s time we set off. Little Five, you should rest. Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan have also received word and are on their way to the Yingshan Sect."
Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan?
What were they going to the Yingshan Sect for?
Yu Zhiling’s brows furrowed slightly, but before she could reach any conclusion, Ning Hengwu, not wanting to disturb her further, tucked the blankets around her as the Mustard Seed Boat prepared to depart.
"Your senior sister is staying upstairs. Mo Zhu’s room is next to yours. If you need anything, call for someone—don’t get out of bed on your own."
Yu Zhiling nodded obediently. "Alright."
Ning Hengwu, as usual, ruffled her hair affectionately before leaving.
She didn’t acknowledge Mo Zhu’s farewell as she stepped out. But as she closed the door behind her, her gaze lingered in the room.
Yu Zhiling seemed to be shifting slightly, and Mo Zhu leaned over to lift her, settling her further inward on the bed. He then sat on the edge, meticulously tucking the blankets around her and smoothing the stray strands of hair by her temples.
So tender. So intimate.
So intimate that it made Ning Hengwu uneasy.
She frowned, an inexplicable discomfort settling in her chest.
Closing the door, she nearly bumped into Yan Shanqing and Xiang Wuxue, who had just boarded the Mustard Seed Boat.
Ning Hengwu shook her head at them. "Little Five needs to rest. You can see her after she wakes."
Having spent years together, they knew each other too well. Yan Shanqing and Xiang Wuxue immediately noticed something was off.
Xiang Wuxue asked, "Second Senior Sister, is something wrong with Little Five?"
Ning Hengwu shook her head. "She’s fine."
But then she hesitated, glancing back at the closed cabin door before speaking cautiously, "Mo Zhu is seventeen this year, isn’t he?"
Yan Shanqing nodded. "Yes."
Ning Hengwu pressed on, "Is it really appropriate for him to be taking such close care of Little Five?"
Yan Shanqing and Xiang Wuxue exchanged puzzled glances.
"What’s inappropriate about it? Mo Zhu is Little Five’s disciple," Xiang Wuxue replied, his gentle nature making him less attuned to subtle implications. "He’s just a child, and she’s his master. There’s nothing to worry about."
Yan Shanqing agreed. "Hengwu, don’t overthink it. Little Five relies on Mo Zhu, and the boy does take excellent care of her—attentive in every way. After all the misunderstandings between them in the past, it’s rare that he holds no grudges and still looks after her so devotedly."
Ning Hengwu knew she might be overreacting.
But something just felt… off.
The way Mo Zhu looked at Yu Zhiling didn’t seem like the gaze of a disciple at all.
Yet without concrete evidence, she couldn’t voice her suspicions to Yan Shanqing and Xiang Wuxue. She could only nod. "Alright. Let’s go. Let Little Five rest."
The three of them dispersed to their rooms upstairs, leaving the entire lower deck to Yu Zhiling and Mo Zhu.
The Mustard Seed Boat glided smoothly through the clouds.
Inside the room, Yu Zhiling noticed her little disciple seemed troubled. As a caring master, she always picked up on his moods first. She poked his arm.
"Mo Zhu, what’s on your mind?"
The Mustard Seed Boat’s soundproofing was excellent—she couldn’t hear Ning Hengwu’s conversation outside. But Mo Zhu’s heightened senses caught every word.
"Mo Zhu?"
Mo Zhu smiled softly, coaxing her. "It’s nothing. This disciple was just lost in thought."
Yu Zhiling suggested, "Why don’t you go rest in your room next door? Senior Sister said it’s right beside mine. It’s daytime—I’m not scared."
Mo Zhu didn’t want to rest. He didn’t want to leave her.
"Master, I’m not tired. I’ll stay and watch over you. You should sleep."
But Yu Zhiling’s mind was a whirlwind.
Ning Hengwu had mentioned Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan were heading to the Yingshan Sect. She could guess why—it must be related to the incident in the Southern Capital, given the culprit was a demonic cultivator long hunted across the Central Continent.
And the mention of Yun Zhi…
It brought back the dream she’d had.
The system had said her virtue points had reached a thousand, unlocking the first phase of memories—those belonging to Immortal Lord Zhuoyu.
If the memories were accurate, Yun Zhi must know far more than he’d let on. So why had he shown no reaction the last time they met?
Some answers would have to wait until she saw Yun Zhi again.
Yu Zhiling sighed quietly. She’d only come to earn virtue points by helping Mo Zhu cultivate. She hadn’t expected to get tangled in so many complications.
Doing multiple jobs for the pay of one.
Mo Zhu adjusted her blankets. "Master, sleep now. You didn’t rest well yesterday."
Yu Zhiling nodded. "Then I’ll sleep. If you don’t want to go next door, you can rest here too."
She patted the spacious bed beside her. This was the largest room on the Mustard Seed Boat—the main bed could easily fit five or six people.
Yawning lazily, she murmured, "There’s extra bedding in the Qiankun bag. If you’re tired, just lay it out and sleep here. No need to keep watch over me the whole time. I’m going to sleep now."
To her, this was no different from sharing a room with her disciple, just with separate bedding. Nothing to fuss over.
She drifted off quickly, completely unaware of the impact her words had on Mo Zhu.
For a man and woman to share a bed—even as master and disciple, even with separate covers—was an act of extraordinary intimacy.
Yesterday, when she’d spoken those words in a daze, Mo Zhu had shamelessly seized the opportunity.
But now, she was fully conscious. And she’d just…
Allowed him to sleep on this bed?
Mo Zhu turned his head away, closing his eyes in meditation, desperately trying to calm his restless heart. Yet his mind was flooded with her words from earlier.
He sat for a long time, attempting again and again to settle his thoughts, but the heightened senses of the Flying Serpent allowed him to hear every breath she took, to catch the faint herbal fragrance mingled with her natural scent.
Once more, Ning Hengwu’s words from outside echoed in his mind.
He understood her implication—she wanted the two of them to maintain distance.
Mo Zhu turned to look at the figure sleeping soundly on the bed. This was the renowned Immortal Lord Zhuoyu of the Central Continent, said to be aloof and indifferent, speaking barely a handful of words in a year. When Mo Zhu had interacted with her as a child, he too had believed the rumors.
Powerful. Silent. Cold and solitary.
But now, it seemed that before becoming Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, she had been like this—carefree, unrestrained, able to amuse herself endlessly, her words flowing freely and abundantly.
Mo Zhu quietly leaned closer to her. The nearer he got, the more his heart pounded wildly.
He couldn’t control the fluttering in his chest, nor could he suppress the longing to be close to her.
He drew closer still, until their noses were almost touching. If Yu Zhiling were to open her eyes now, she would see him hovering above her, his usually dark eyes transformed into the vertical pupils of the Flying Serpent, the deep golden patterns within them mesmerizing enough to ensnare anyone who met his gaze.
His eyes trailed downward—from the delicate arch of her brows, to her long lashes resting against her cheeks, the small tip of her nose, and then…
Her full, rosy lips, slightly parted, revealing the faintest glimpse of her teeth.
She had bitten him like this yesterday.
When her teeth had sunk into his skin, he had been overcome with desire. Though it was his first time, instinct had taken over. Young as he was, he wasn’t ignorant—he recognized the reaction of his own body.
Mo Zhu murmured unconsciously, "Shizun…"
A cold voice suddenly cut through the silence.
"Come out."
It was Ning Hengwu.
Mo Zhu jolted awake, realizing—
His lips were barely a finger’s breadth from hers.
She remained oblivious, while he was dazed, lost in the moment.
The voice spoke again, sharper this time. "Come out, Mo Zhu."
He straightened, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
Mo Zhu turned his head, meeting Ning Hengwu’s gaze through the half-open window. Her eyes were icy.
Because Yu Zhiling feared darkness and enclosed spaces, her windows were never fully shut. The first thing Mo Zhu had done upon entering was to leave them slightly ajar.
Now, Ning Hengwu stood in the ship’s corridor, the view into the room perfectly clear.
Mo Zhu pressed his lips together and stepped outside.
Ning Hengwu stood at the bow of the ship, the fierce wind whipping her dark hair and the blue robes fluttering wildly behind her.
Mo Zhu approached silently, stopping behind her.
Without turning, Ning Hengwu cut straight to the point. "What were you doing?"
Mo Zhu didn’t answer. He wasn’t even sure himself.
Ning Hengwu spun around, her face devoid of emotion. "Mo Zhu, what are your intentions toward Xiao Wu?"
Mo Zhu lifted his gaze to meet hers, his hands tightening imperceptibly at his sides, his throat bobbing slightly.
Ning Hengwu suppressed her anger, the image of what she had seen moments ago burned into her mind. Unable to shake her concern for Yu Zhiling, she had come down to check—only to find Mo Zhu hovering over her, his serpentine pupils fixed on her like prey, while her oblivious sister slept soundly.
It had taken all her restraint not to slap him. Anyone else who dared disrespect Yu Zhiling would have been tied up and beaten senseless.
Mo Zhu muttered under his breath, "I… have intentions toward Shizun?"
Ning Hengwu’s sharp eyes caught the slip. Before Mo Zhu could react, she stepped forward and yanked open his collar, exposing the fading bite marks on his collarbone and neck.
"Mo Zhu!" she snapped. "What have you done with Xiao Wu?"
Mo Zhu retreated, pulling his collar back into place. "Nothing. I did this to myself."
Ning Hengwu scoffed. "You’re telling me you bit yourself multiple times?"
Mo Zhu frowned, regretting not erasing the marks sooner. He had kept them, reluctant to let them fade—but now Ning Hengwu had seen them. Would she misunderstand Yu Zhiling?
Ning Hengwu turned away, inhaling deeply to suppress her fury. She pointed at Mo Zhu. "I know you’re handsome, but listen well—remember your place. Don’t use your looks to seduce her. Xiao Wu has lost her memories—she’s naive and trusting right now. If you dare try anything like this again, I won’t let you off lightly."
Mo Zhu blinked, his throat tightening. "Seduce?"
Yu Zhiling had often praised his looks. Could he really… seduce her?
Did she like that?
Ning Hengwu fell silent for a moment before suddenly spitting out, "Ugh!"
Why did he look like her words had just enlightened him?!
Her patience snapped. "Xiao Wu will have her own family one day, her own cultivation partner. Don’t you dare overstep! Mo Zhu, don’t think I haven’t noticed—you’ve developed romantic feelings for her. You’re her disciple! Has she never taught you respect?"
"And your statuses don’t match. She’s an Immortal Lord of the Central Continent, a senior of the Yingshan Sect. Even if she seeks a partner in the future, it could never be an immature brat like you. Can you protect her? Right now, she’s the one protecting you!"
"Mo Zhu, mark my words—if you dare lay a hand on her—"
Ning Hengwu continued her tirade, but Mo Zhu stopped listening.
Romantic feelings.
Cultivation partner.
Ning Hengwu said he had romantic feelings for her.
Ning Hengwu said she would find a partner one day.
Mo Zhu’s clenched fists slowly loosened. The boulder that had been weighing on his chest finally dropped, and the cold wind filled his lungs, bringing a clarity he had never felt before.
Why did he crave her closeness, hating when she treated him like a child?
Why didn’t he recoil from her touch, even yearning for it?
Why had he been aroused yesterday?
Was this how a disciple should behave toward their master?
Ever since she had emerged from seclusion and summoned him back, every step she took had defied his expectations. Her unpredictable thoughts were something he had never encountered before. His defenses against her had crumbled bit by bit. He didn’t want to admit his softening heart, nor that his gaze lingered on her.
What was he struggling with?
The fear of admitting he had fallen for someone who had once hurt him.
The young man had encountered someone whose eyes sparkled only for him, who smiled sweetly at him, who guarded his cultivation daily, prepared meals for him, and cared for him with all her might. Without realizing it, his wariness toward her had long since faded.
Later, when he discovered she was truly the one, that childish resistance in him vanished completely, and he began to pour his affection into her without reservation.
Ning Hengwu, seeing him lost in thought, felt her anger ignite. "Mo Zhu!"
From the upper deck, Xiang Wuxue and Yan Shanqing heard the commotion and leaned over the railing.
"Hengwu, what's wrong?"
"Second Senior Sister, why are you shouting?"
Ignoring them, Ning Hengwu fixed Mo Zhu with a cold stare. "Listen well—she will have her own path—"
"No, she won’t."
Mo Zhu, who had been silent until now, cut her off with icy detachment.
Ning Hengwu paused. "...What?"
His expression remained blank. "No, she won’t."
She would never have a destined partner—unless it was him.
He was never a gentle man to begin with, and what little tenderness he had left was reserved for her alone.
Ning Hengwu, usually unshakable, was now seething. "Mo Zhu, you bastard!"
Without so much as a glance, Mo Zhu turned and strode toward the cabin door.
Ning Hengwu drew the soft sword from her waist, ready to chase him down and strike, but Yan Shanqing sensed the danger and quickly leapt down to restrain her.
"Hengwu, what are you doing?!"
In mere moments, Mo Zhu had already entered the room.
He shut the door behind him, his heart startlingly clear.
How foolish he had been—needing others to help him untangle his own feelings.
A self-mocking smile tugged at his lips as his gaze fell on the figure sleeping soundly on the bed. Yu Zhiling remained undisturbed by the chaos outside, her cheeks flushed warm from the heat.
Mo Zhu watched her for a long time, listening to the pounding of his own heartbeat—growing louder, faster, deafening.
What kind of disciple was he?
How could he ever be content as merely her disciple, watching her find happiness with someone else?
No. He would stand by her side, become the only one worthy of walking beside her. He would hold onto her tightly, refusing to let go—even in death.
At last, he understood.
