Absurd!

Completely absurd!

Chu Hanjin, the epitome of purity in the Far Mountain Sect, known for being the most righteous among the Six Great Sects, was having these obscene dreams every night!

His delicate eyes were dazed as he stared at the empty room in front of him.

But the sensations were so vivid, so real—the warmth of skin against skin, the sweat trickling down his spine, the softness and tingling that enveloped him as he was held to the extreme…

The low, husky gasps, restrained but gradually becoming more indulgent, were all his own voice!

…

The hot spring water was warm, clinging to his skin.

Chu Hanjin flexed his fingers, feeling his stiff joints. He could confirm without a doubt that this was indeed his body.

But why?

Why was this happening?

He stood up from the water, his damp black hair sticking to his jade-like pale skin, accentuating his chiseled jawline. Pulling on his inner robe, he walked to the bronze mirror and gazed down at his fair, handsome reflection. For the first time, he felt unfamiliar with himself.

—“Someone wants to kill you.”

The words echoed in Chu Hanjin’s mind, and the warmth in his body turned into a cold sweat.

Three knocks sounded at the door.

In the inner chamber, Mu Lianchun’s expression was grave, lost in thought. Chu Hanjin adjusted his composure and asked, “Senior brother, have you found Xue Wuya?”

Mu Lianchun shook his head. “No, we haven’t.” After glancing around, he added, “Xue Wuya is likely already dead.”

The Celestial Burial Pit, a place filled with immense evil and malevolent energy, was never approached by the disciples of Far Mountain Sect unless reinforced with sealing talismans. There had been cases where even fifth-stage cultivators, lured by the treasures within, tried to summon vengeful spirits to cultivate their own malevolent energy, only to be torn to pieces.

However, Xue Wuya was the most outstanding disciple of Rongku Sect in recent years. His unexplained death here would be difficult to justify. And if this incident caused a rift with Rongku Sect, what then?

Chu Hanjin said, “There’s something else. The Celestial Burial Pit has a protective barrier. If Xue Wuya entered, it should’ve triggered an alarm. The fact that it didn’t means he wasn’t breaking in but was given the method to bypass the barrier.”

Mu Lianchun’s frown deepened. “This is troublesome.”

The one who urged Xue Wuya to go to the Celestial Burial Pit was indeed a disciple of Far Mountain Sect. Normally, if someone tried to breach the barrier, they would be stopped. However, this person intentionally provided Xue Wuya with the means to bypass it, clearly intending for him to die.

Sure enough, in the Bright Hall, when Xing Jiangxin learned the details, he could barely contain his anger. “Sect Master Mu, I had initially thought this was just a drunken mistake by some youths. But your disciples from Far Mountain Sect planned everything perfectly, exploiting Xue Wuya’s pure nature to lure him into the Celestial Burial Pit to be devoured by ghosts! Aren’t your disciples too wicked?”

The hall erupted in chaos!

For a sect of righteousness, accusations of “wickedness and treachery” were the most damaging, especially in front of the representatives of the Six Great Sects. Mu Lianchun quickly responded, “Sect Master Xing, I’ve already identified the person who instigated the bet, and they’ll be dealt with according to your wishes. But this incident was an accident and has nothing to do with the other disciples of Far Mountain Sect. Why make sweeping accusations?”

“Sweeping accusations? Then why, when the bet was clearly wrong, did no one step forward to stop it?” Xing Jiangxin’s voice was firm and unforgiving.

Mu Lianchun was left speechless.

Xue Wuya had dominated both the Autumn Banquet and the Spring Banquet, always coming in first. Far Mountain Sect’s disciples grew jealous, wanting to see just how capable he really was.

So, even though they knew he was walking into death, they did nothing to stop it.

Chu Hanjin stood and bowed respectfully. “I’m not trying to dig up past grievances, but our disciples have also died at Rongku Sect before. At that time, the Six Sects worked together to find the true culprit without casting blame on each other. Sect Master Xing, the most pressing matter now is to find Xue Wuya as soon as possible, whether alive or dead.”

As Chu Hanjin spoke, Xing Jiangxin’s expression softened.

For good reason—Chu Hanjin’s father had died in the service of the Six Sects.

No longer confrontational, Xing Jiangxin said, “Lord Yue Zhao is right. Xue Wuya—whether alive or dead, we need to find him, even if he’s just a corpse. But simply returning with a robe won’t satisfy me.”

With that, he picked up his tea cup, no longer pressing the issue.

“In that case,” spoke one of the two leaders of the Yin-Yang Sect, Lord Fu Yin, tapping his fan. Ten years ago, he had been a man of unparalleled beauty, but due to cultivating alongside Lord Bao Yang, his features had taken on a more feminine aspect, with delicate, graceful movements.

—In short, he had become somewhat effeminate.

He said, “Let’s convene another Six Sect assembly and make a second trip to the Celestial Burial Pit to recover the disciple of the Xue family.”

Yin-Yang Sect had always maintained a close relationship with Far Mountain Sect and was now trying to smooth things over. The meeting ended hastily.

As Chu Hanjin left the discussion hall, his mind felt heavy. He took a winding path back toward the Moonlight Palace.

As he passed the night banquet area, it was still filled with music and dance. The matter of Xue Wuya had yet to be revealed, so those from the lower sects were unaware. Several cultivators were gathered at a riverside pavilion, drinking and enjoying themselves.

“I’m from the northern foothills of Yinshi. I don’t have much talent, but I can sing a song from my homeland for you all,” said one cultivator. He began singing in a low voice, his melody soaring like an eagle in flight, evoking a sense of vastness.

“I’m from the northern frontier and can perform the Hu Xuan dance.” A young female cultivator gracefully moved her limbs, her fingers nimble and beautiful.

“These are sweets from my hometown…”

Under the dark eaves, a figure stood with a sword on his back, his face obscured by shadow, clearly watching with interest.

Yue Lin hadn’t said a word, but the female cultivator with the loud voice turned to him and asked, “Where are you from? What can you do?”

Yue Lin smiled. “I can’t do anything.”

“Come on! That’s no fun,” the cultivator shook his head. “We’ve all performed. If you’re serious about making friends, you should at least say something. Who would believe you can’t do anything?”

The surrounding cultivators egged him on. “Come on, brother! At least say a few words!”

Yue Lin seemed persuaded. He plucked a leaf from a nearby branch, placed it to his lips, and blew a soft tune. The clear, crisp melody rang out like birds singing among the leaves, pleasant and sweet.

Not far away, Chu Hanjin paused.

He stopped in his tracks.

Yue Lin was playing a southern tune called “Mixed Flowers Among Trees.” It was widely known in Jiangnan, with both the elderly and young children able to hum it. If a child couldn’t sleep at night, a mother would cradle them under the moonlit water town, singing this soft melody, blending with the sound of flowing water.

Before the song was finished, someone called out, “Lord Yue Zhao.”

The melody stopped, and Yue Lin, holding the leaf between his fingers, looked over at Chu Hanjin from afar.

Chu Hanjin wasn’t fond of socializing, but since he was called out, he gave a slight nod.

The lively female cultivator asked, “Lord Yue Zhao, did he play the tune well?”

Chu Hanjin replied, “It was good.”

The female cultivator laughed, “I heard that Lord Yue Zhao is from Jiangnan and only came to the Banks of Nine Rivers ten years ago when the Far Mountain Sect moved its palace. This southern tune must have resonated with you, right?”

Chu Hanjin: “It did.”

“Would Lord Yue Zhao like to join us?”

Chu Hanjin: “No.”

Before leaving, he shot Yue Lin a glance.

His intent was to express surprise that Yue Lin could play such a tune, but Yue Lin adjusted his sleeves and shamelessly followed beside him.

“…”

In the dark night, Chu Hanjin’s cold black eyes glanced at him, slightly turning.

Yue Lin chuckled. “You’re looking at me like that again.”

Chu Hanjin pressed out a breath. “Do you need something?”

Yue Lin replied, “Do I need a reason to talk to you?”

Chu Hanjin said, “No.”

Then, with indifference, he added, “But you’re an exception.”

“…” Yue Lin raised his brows and said, “Why such prejudice against me? Fine, I do have something to say.”

Chu Hanjin’s ice-cold eyes turned to him.

Yue Lin walked toward a secluded corner of the banquet, beckoning him. “Lord Yue Zhao, come over here.”

He stopped behind a wall covered in roses, withered vines entwining the surface. Inside, the overgrown wild grass obscured most of the view, creating an untamed wasteland of shadows swaying ominously in the wind.

Just as Chu Hanjin was about to ask, “Why did you bring me here?” Yue Lin placed a finger to his lips and whispered, “Shh.”

A faint breeze carried muffled sounds, soft and intermittent.

Then, several faint human voices, whispering low.

In the darkness, Yue Lin turned to Chu Hanjin, gesturing with his eyes: “Do you hear that?”

Chu Hanjin stood still, lowering his gaze. He only heard the faint sounds, rising and mingling, accompanied by soft, pained moans.

Chu Hanjin’s expression grew cold as he turned toward Yue Lin.

Logically, he wouldn’t know what this was. But suddenly, as if struck by a flash of realization, his mind raced. He grabbed Yue Lin’s wrist, his gaze sharp and furious, as if he wanted to tear him apart, glaring icily at him.

He ground out between clenched teeth, “Shameless!”

Yue Lin, unfazed, casually pried open Chu Hanjin’s jade-like fingers, picked up a rock from the ground, and, under Chu Hanjin’s shocked gaze, hurled it toward the source of the sounds.

Thud!

A flurry of activity erupted from within.

Chu Hanjin: “……..”

Soon after, someone scrambled to flee.

Yue Lin grabbed Chu Hanjin’s wrist and pushed him deeper into the shadows of the rose bush, the petals brushing against them. The sudden rush of floral fragrance filled the air, dreamlike and dizzying, as the shadows and the moonlight swayed.

Chu Hanjin was about to push him away when a low voice whispered in his ear, “Do you want people to know you were spying on others… engaging in such activities?”

The meaning behind his words was all too clear.

Chu Hanjin’s fingers tightened, nearly crushing the petals in his grip. Yet he was pinned firmly against the wall, warm breath brushing against his lashes, carrying a hint of chaos and temptation.

His breathing grew heavier as he stared into the pair of eyes just inches away.

Yue Lin’s pupils weren’t pure black. They resembled the vertical slits of a reptile’s golden eyes, damp and pale, with a chilling air about them.

Yue Lin’s voice was laced with amusement. “Now this is what shamelessness looks like.”

Not far away, a figure dressed in proper robes hurriedly ran out.

The person glanced around, as if searching for the one who had thrown the rock.

—Yue Lin pressed Chu Hanjin even closer.

His lips brushed against Chu Hanjin’s ear, almost kissing the pristine white earlobe.

Another figure soon followed.

Even in the dim light, Chu Hanjin could immediately recognize the two figures—one wore the robes of Far Mountain Dao, the other the robes of Mofa Sect. The Far Mountain Sect disciple had three stripes embroidered on his collar, indicating a high rank.

Far Mountain Sect strictly forbade any such improper behavior within the Sect Palace.

Yet they dared to violate this rule so brazenly.

Once the two figures had left, Chu Hanjin grabbed Yue Lin by the collar and shoved him, pushing him back two or three steps.

His expression was cold and composed, his skin pale, his demeanor impeccable. “Why should I have to hide?”

Even if he had stumbled upon improper behavior, it was they who should feel ashamed, not him. Yet Yue Lin had pinned him to the wall, leaving him feeling disoriented, as though he were the one guilty of something.

Yue Lin smiled. “Lord Yue Zhao indeed has nothing to hide,” he said. “After all, Lord Yue Zhao has never engaged in such acts at Far Mountain Sect.”

“…”

The sarcastic tone in his voice was unmistakable.

Chu Hanjin glared at him.

Yue Lin, seemingly unconcerned, met his gaze with complete indifference.

The same oppressive feeling reminded Chu Hanjin of the man from his recent nightmares.