Chapter 17: The Treacherous Spy  

After Zhao Yu Ci left, Gong Fu Qu looked at Su Han Sheng with concern.  

“That man holds grudges over the smallest matters. Having suffered a setback today, he will surely seek revenge in the future.”  

Su Han Sheng showed no fear. Instead, he seemed lost in thought as he asked, “Your name is Fu Qu?”  

Gong Fu Qu was taken aback, then smiled. “Indeed. My surname is Gong, and I study under Immortal Master Zhou of Shangyuan Prefecture.”  

Su Han Sheng gave an absentminded “Oh.”  

In his past life, when news of Xu Nan Xian’s death reached him, Su Han Sheng had been unable to accept it. He had pored over the roster of those who perished in the Enlightenment Rite countless times, memorizing every name.  

Shangyuan Prefecture had lost two people—one of them was Gong Fu Qu.  

Just then, footsteps echoed from the staircase, followed by the indistinct voices of Xu Nan Xian and Zhuang Lingxiu.  

“…I can’t believe I fell for your nonsense! You wrecked the Tower Ship, so why drag me down with you to get beaten?!”  

“Bu Bei, I swear I’ll never betray you in this lifetime. Once I recover from my injuries, I’ll definitely help your Xu family flourish—eight children, all bearing your surname. I guarantee you’ll be surrounded by grandchildren by the time you’re a hundred, enjoying the joys of family.”  

“Get lost.”  

Gong Fu Qu was about to ask Su Han Sheng for his name when she saw the young man, who had earlier seemed glued to his chair, suddenly leap down. His plain lotus-patterned robe fluttered like blooming flowers as he dashed over, beaming with excitement.  

“Senior Brother.”  

Xu Nan Xian had barely descended the stairs when Su Han Sheng bumped into his chest. Gritting his teeth, he shot Zhuang Lingxiu a glare and said coldly, “Xiao Xiao, forget about picking and choosing—we’re taking all the Cloud Veils.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu: “…”  

Su Han Sheng looked up and caught sight of the reddened bruise on Xu Nan Xian’s cheek. His brows furrowed.  

“Senior Brother, you’re hurt?”  

Xu Nan Xian’s face bore a bruise, and Zhuang Lingxiu was in worse shape, with a trickle of blood at the corner of his lips. But both were tough—they had suffered worse scrapes during sparring sessions and paid it little mind.  

Xu Nan Xian waved it off. “It’s nothing serious—is that Cloud Veil in your hair? Looks decent.”  

Su Han Sheng, however, kept staring intently at Xu Nan Xian’s injury.  

A withered branch from the Lifebound Tree on his shoulder slowly extended, coiling menacingly around his neck.  

Xu Nan Xian and Zhuang Lingxiu were prominent figures at the Enlightenment Academy, and Gong Fu Qu recognized them at once. Her gaze shifted to Su Han Sheng in surprise.  

Only one person could address Xu Nan Xian as “Senior Brother” with such familiarity—and with the purchase of Cloud Veil to shield from light…  

It could only be the legendary Young Lord Su of the Echoing Warmth Sect, said to be afflicted with the Marrow-Burrowing Poison.  

A complex emotion flickered in Gong Fu Qu’s eyes as she stepped forward and bowed. “Greetings, Senior Brothers.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu, ever the charmer, remembered a beauty like Gong Fu Qu and greeted her warmly. “No need for formalities, Junior Sister Gong. Are you here at Ink Fetus Studio to purchase a Magical Artifact?”  

Gong Fu Qu replied, “I’ve already made most of my selections. Earlier…”  

She was about to mention the incident with Zhao Yu Ci when Su Han Sheng, who had been standing obediently beside Xu Nan Xian, suddenly glanced up at her.  

Gong Fu Qu paused, then smiled. “It’s nothing important. I shall take my leave now.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu bid her farewell with a smile.  

As Gong Fu Qu reached the threshold, her skirt flared like a peony in bloom as she stepped over. Almost involuntarily, she glanced back.  

The young lord was tugging at Senior Brother Xu’s sleeve, eagerly pulling him to see the Cloud Veils he had picked out. Every movement radiated harmless innocence.  

The young lord of the Echoing Warmth Sect was certainly not someone Zhao Yu Ci could trifle with.  

Gong Fu Qu sighed silently and turned away.  

***

Su Han Sheng picked out a pile of Cloud Veils, making Zhuang Lingxiu’s lips twitch in distress. But seeing the young lord finally no longer needing to lug around that tattered umbrella and instead smiling radiantly while tugging on Xu Nan Xian’s sleeve, he instantly felt the Spirit Stones were well spent.

The three hurried from Separate Year by Year back to the academy.

Su Han Sheng, who had just been accused of being “Fuli Clan,” recalled Zhuang Lingxiu mentioning on the Tower Ship yesterday that those people were also Fuli Clan.

“Senior Brother?” Su Han Sheng voiced his confusion. “Are Fuli Clan members also afraid of light?”

Xu Nan Xian responded with a “Hmm?” and asked, “Why do you ask?”

“What’s wrong with the young lord asking?” Zhuang Lingxiu, ever the doting figure, patiently explained. “Thousands of years ago, the Fuli Clan once possessed a Heavenly Dao Artifact.”

The artifact guarded the four directions of Buzhou Mountain, protecting the common people.

But the Fuli Clan’s artifact was inherently an Evil Seed, attempting to destroy the Heaven Reaching Pagoda and annihilate the Three Realms.

The Heavenly Dao, enraged, reduced the Evil Seed to ashes and cast its entire clan into Avici Hell.

The Evil Seed’s lineage was vast, with thousands of branch clans.

In mercy, the Heavenly Dao only cursed the branch clans with light-fearing souls, banishing them to places like the Western Corner, where sunlight rarely reached, forcing them to eke out a wretched existence.

Su Han Sheng gave an “Oh.”

When he had fallen into Avici Hell back then, it was eight thousand zhang underground with no light, so he hadn’t known the Fuli Clan feared light.

While Zhuang Lingxiu was explaining, Xu Nan Xian had already bought a pile of candied fruits and was munching on them with relish.

He stuffed a piece into Su Han Sheng’s mouth and said carelessly, “Why bother with the Fuli Clan? All you need to do these days is behave and not cause trouble—even if you want to, hold it in until after the Enlightenment Rite. Got it?”

Su Han Sheng frowned. “Why?”

Zhuang Lingxiu chuckled.

Was the young lord really planning to cause trouble right after entering the academy?

Xu Nan Xian glared at him, ready to threaten a beating.

But Zhuang Lingxiu stopped him and gently explained, “The Enlightenment Rite requires students to have at least three points to enter the Secret Realm. Even the smallest offense—like cursing someone on the street and getting reported to the Discipline Hall—could dock you half a point, and you’d miss the rite.”

Su Han Sheng widened his eyes in surprise—this was the first time he’d heard Enlightenment Academy required three points.

Xu Nan Xian tugged his little braid. “Remember that?”

Su Han Sheng tentatively probed, “What if I…”

Xu Nan Xian, knowing him too well, sneered. “Don’t even think about it!”

“The young lord hasn’t even finished speaking. Don’t be so harsh.” Zhuang Lingxiu elbowed Xu Nan Xian aside and asked gently, “What were you going to say, young lord?”

Xu Nan Xian always felt Zhuang Lingxiu had ulterior motives toward his junior brother. Before Su Han Sheng could speak, he wrapped an arm around Zhuang Lingxiu’s neck and yanked him aside, grumbling, “He wants to ask if his Lifebound Tree causing trouble would dock him points.”

Zhuang Lingxiu: “…”

Su Han Sheng blinked innocently.

Zhuang Lingxiu coughed. “That… also wouldn’t work. The Discipline Hall is strict—they care about results, not reasons.”

Su Han Sheng deflated completely.

He had originally planned to sneak off to find Zhao Yu Ci the next day while Xu Nan Xian was in class, but after being sternly lectured by both Zhuang Lingxiu and Xu Nan Xian, he reluctantly gave up.

Morning mist hung thick in the air, hinting at an afternoon storm. With nothing else to do, Su Han Sheng recalled the black-robed Nascent Soul’s mention of a “sage.” Donning his pecking needles, he decided to visit the Grand Treasure Pavilion at Enlightenment Academy.

The Echoing Warmth Sect had very few records about the Fuli Clan. Perhaps the First Academy might have some documentation on this race.

The Cloud Veil truly lived up to its name.

At first, Su Han Sheng felt quite uncomfortable without an umbrella, as if walking around naked. After “streaking” for half a day, he finally grew accustomed to the lightweight Cloud Veil.

The Grand Treasure Pavilion wasn’t far from Xu Nan Xian’s residence—just through a maze of artificial rockeries.

Books about the Fuli Clan were housed in a separate pavilion. With his Disciple Seal, Su Han Sheng entered without issue.

Inside the pavilion, shelves upon shelves of scrolls and records filled the space, their yellowed edges exuding an ancient, musty scent.

Checking the dates, Su Han Sheng was surprised to find these were all texts from thousands of years ago, seemingly all related to talismanic incantations and formations.

He randomly selected a few books about the Fuli Clan, only to find the contents utterly incomprehensible—the clan seemed to use a unique script. Unable to read a single character, he borrowed several volumes to ask Xu Nan Xian about later.

As he stepped out with the books, the Lifebound Tree on his shoulder stirred slightly, whispering something in his ear.

“Zhao Yu Ci…”

Originally intending to remain kind-hearted and avoid missing the Enlightenment Rite over a petty insult, Su Han Sheng was about to leave when sharp, angry shouts pierced through the dense foliage.

“…You half-blooded Fuli Evil Seed! The Heavenly Dao’s mercy alone allows your kind to exist in this world. How dare you show no gratitude?”

Su Han Sheng paused mid-step.

Fuli?

Intrigued, he pushed through the thicket for a closer look.

The Enlightenment Academy’s grounds were vast, and this area appeared to be a training field for ordinary disciples. Through the shade, he spotted the arrogant Zhao Yu Ci sneering as he interrogated a young boy.

“How amusing that the Four Brilliance Hall’s steward would reject countless geniuses across the Three Realms, only to take in a Fuli Evil Seed.”

Opposite the crowd stood a black-clad youth whose face was veiled in dark gauze inscribed with talismanic patterns. Only a pair of wolfish, pitch-black eyes were visible, glaring fixedly ahead. His voice was hoarse, as if injured.

“I’ve already explained to Senior Brother—the steward urgently summoned me yesterday, which is why I couldn’t translate this scroll for you in time.”

Zhao Yu Ci scoffed. “You took the Spirit Stones, yet now claim you can’t deliver? Do I look easy to fool?”

The Fuli youth pressed his lips together, fists clenched tightly in his sleeves. “Senior Brother only gave five Spirit Stones… Moreover, this scroll normally takes a month to translate. Two days was impossible—”

Zhao Yu Ci’s face darkened as he waved a hand.

His attendants swiftly moved forward, forcing the Fuli youth to his knees.

Su Han Sheng frowned.

The Fuli boy showed no signs of cultivation. As he was forcibly knelt, a corner of his veil slipped, exposing skin that immediately blistered under the scorching sun as if burned by poison.

Zhao Yu Ci snatched the boy’s storage pouch, dumping its meager contents—low-grade Spirit Stones and tattered belongings—onto the ground. After rummaging, he pulled out a book still fragrant with ink.

On its cover was elegantly written in small regular script: “Exorcism.”

Flipping through it casually, Zhao Yu Ci smirked. “If you can’t translate that one, this will have to do.”

The Fuli Clan youth stiffened and immediately struggled to retrieve it. “Senior Brother Zhao, this is for the steward of Ink Fetus Studio! Mmm—”

Before he could finish, the attendant restraining him punched him in the face, leaving a trail of blood at the corner of his lips.

“Qifu Zhao, my patience is limited,” Zhao Yu Ci said condescendingly. “Just hand over that book, and I’ll let this matter go. Or would you rather take this to the Discipline Hall and argue with me there?”

The youth named Qifu Zhao had half his face marred by hideous scars from sun exposure. At these words, his expression darkened.

Su Han Sheng was taken aback.

Qifu Zhao?

Ah, yes. He remembered this person.

Qifu Zhao, a half-blood of the Fuli Clan and a demonic cultivator, raised by vicious beasts since childhood—his lineage alone encompassed three types of bloodlines despised by Dao cultivators. Naturally, in a world teeming with cultivators, his life was exceptionally harsh.

Stumbling through life until seventeen, it was already a mercy from the Heavenly Dao.

The Enlightenment Academy accepted all without discrimination. The Vice Dean encountered him during a leisurely stroll and, recognizing his spiritual roots, defied pressure to admit Qifu Zhao into the Academy.

With half Fuli blood, Qifu Zhao inherited his clan’s language effortlessly. To repay Vice Dean Zou Chi’s kindness in recognizing his talent, he often translated Fuli Clan books from the Grand Treasure Pavilion into the common script of the Three Realms.

Yet even so, there were students in the Academy who despised the Fuli Clan, frequently subjecting him to humiliation and abuse.

Zhao Yu Ci was one of them.

Tossing a few Spirit Stones at him like alms to a beggar, Zhao Yu Ci demanded Qifu Zhao translate obscure texts for him, often resorting to beatings and curses. Had one lifted the youth’s robes, they would have seen the unhealed, gruesome burns beneath.

Qifu Zhao’s face was as pale as paper. After a long hesitation, he clenched his teeth and said, “Senior Brother, please return the book to me.”

He would rather offend Zhao Yu Ci than the eccentric stewards of Ink Fetus Studio.

Zhao Yu Ci laughed in fury, stepping forward to tear off Qifu Zhao’s veil. He looked down coldly. “Strip him naked and leave him under the scorching sun. Let’s see how long his stubbornness lasts.”

The dense forest blocked most sunlight, but even the dappled rays that fell on Qifu Zhao’s exposed pale face ignited like fire, burning fiercely.

“Ah—!”

No matter how tough Qifu Zhao was, he couldn’t endure such torment. He screamed, trying to cover his face.

Disciples nearby forcibly pinned his arms and ripped off his upper garment, revealing his scar-riddled, sun-scorched body.

Qifu Zhao was engulfed in flames, his agonized shrieks piercing the air like those of a dying beast.

The disciples holding him exchanged uneasy glances.

“Senior Brother Zhao… are we going too far?”

Zhao Yu Ci chuckled eerily. “An Evil Seed of the Fuli Clan, careless enough to forget his light-shielding veil, burned to ashes by the sun—what does that have to do with me?”

He bent down, gripping Qifu Zhao’s hair, his eyes filled with loathing. “It’s the Heavenly Dao that kills you.”

Raised by wolves, Qifu Zhao, in his dying moments, could no longer hide the malice in his lowered eyes. Through the flames, he stared fixedly at Zhao Yu Ci, his gaze brimming with murderous intent.

Su Han Sheng tilted his head, watching.

At the Enlightenment Rite in September, Qifu Zhao stunned everyone with his brilliance. His exceptional talent caught the Sword Sovereign’s eye, who took him in as an Inner Sect Disciple.

But before Su Han Sheng descended into Avici Hell, he’d heard rumors that this brooding youth had turned to demonic cultivation, betraying his master and slaying the Sword Sovereign atop a towering snow-capped peak, stealing the sword sect’s Dao heritage.

Qifu Zhao would later betray his master and annihilate his ancestors, so he certainly wouldn’t die so easily here.

Su Han Sheng heeded his senior brother’s words and refrained from stirring up trouble. Just as he turned to leave, Zhao Yu Ci, who had been standing with his back to him, suddenly whirled around and barked, “Who’s there, sneaking around like a ghost?”

Su Han Sheng paused mid-step and glanced back.

The newly purchased Cloud Veil draped over him like a misty layer of Snow Gauze, making him appear almost like an Immortal.

When Zhao Yu Ci saw him, a vicious grin twisted his face. He immediately released Qifu Zhao and straightened up. “I wondered who it was. Turns out it’s the foul-mouthed idiot from yesterday.”

He had already planned to find a time to retaliate against this person, but to his surprise, the fool had delivered himself right to his doorstep.

His senior brother had warned him not to cause trouble, and Su Han Sheng believed he had shown remarkable restraint by not charging forward to kill the man on sight. Yet, caught off guard by another insult, he forced himself to endure it.

The books said to repay hatred with virtue.

Su Han Sheng steadied himself, biting his knuckle with a bent finger, then curved his eyes into a benevolent smile at Zhao Yu Ci.

—Except the young master had never before attempted to fake a smile at someone he wanted dead. Thus, his curved eyes and stiffly upturned lips inexplicably came off as utterly perfunctory… and mocking.

Seeing him dare to provoke him, Zhao Yu Ci sneered.

“I suspect this brat is a spy from the Fuli Clan, colluding with this disgraceful jinx. Tear off his Cloud Veil!”

With the label of “Fuli Clan spy” slapped on him, even if this escalated to the Discipline Hall, Zhao Yu Ci could claim righteous cause—avoiding accusations of private brawling.

Qifu Zhao was already gasping for breath, barely alive as he lifted his head to glimpse a faint, snow-white figure in the distance.

Su Han Sheng was displeased.

He had already backed down, planning to settle the score after the Enlightenment Rite. Why was this man so relentless, itching for a fight?

The disciples behind Zhao Yu Ci obeyed without question, immediately releasing Qifu Zhao and darting toward Su Han Sheng in an instant. Hands reached out in unison to seize his shoulders.

Su Han Sheng froze, that unreasonable sense of grievance bubbling up inside him again.

It felt as though the entire Three Realms were conspiring against him.

All he wanted was to be a junior brother who didn’t worry Xu Nan Xian—why was it so difficult?

Zhao Yu Ci crossed his arms, waiting for his men to restrain Su Han Sheng and rip off his Cloud Veil.

Ideally, they’d beat the filthy-mouthed dog senseless before unmasking him. That way, even if it turned out he wasn’t a Fuli spy—just a deranged cross-dressing lunatic—Zhao Yu Ci could still justify his actions as “investigating a spy” to evade punishment in the Discipline Hall.

After all, the Fuli Clan was a scourge that everyone had the right to exterminate.

Zhao Yu Ci seemed to already envision Su Han Sheng battered and half-dead—until, abruptly, the five or six disciples who had lunged at him let out agonized shrieks and were sent flying backward.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

They crashed onto the ground in all directions, groaning in pain.

Zhao Yu Ci blinked, momentarily stunned by what had just happened.

The next instant, the vine-like bracelet around Su Han Sheng’s wrist dropped to the soil and took root, transforming in a flash into a Lifebound Tree. Its gnarled branches stretched wildly into the surrounding forest, encircling Su Han Sheng in a protective embrace.

The serpentine tendrils writhed like living creatures, all “staring” intently at Zhao Yu Ci.

Zhao Yu Ci stiffened.

Before he could react, two thick, withered branches lashed through the air with unstoppable force—smacking straight across his face.

The crisp sound of two sharp slaps echoed through the clearing.

The withered branches struck Zhao Yu Ci’s face left and right with brutal force, the blows even extending to his jaw. Two crimson marks twisted into a cross shape on his chin, splitting the skin instantly as gruesome streaks of blood oozed out.  

The suddenness of the attack left everyone present stunned.  

Three breaths later, Zhao Yu Ci was jolted awake by the searing pain surging through his skull. He clutched his face and let out a piercing scream.  

“Ah—!”  

“I already backed down—I even smiled at you!”  

Shrouded by the menacing shadow of the Ghost Vine writhing behind him, Su Han Sheng stood with Cloud Veil fluttering in the wind. His eyes were rimmed with red, as if he had suffered some grave injustice, and his voice was icy as he demanded:  

“…Why did you have to push me into angering my senior brother?”